A/N: I just wanna thank all the folks who reviewed, and encourage all those who favorite'd or alert'd to do the same. Four days til I'm gone!

When I got home later that day, I pulled into my parking spot and cut my engine, removing my helmet to find Axel half buried under his Jeep.

Also, they- being Axel and his Jeep- were totally covered in mud.

I decided to keep my judging eyes to myself, because we can't all be good at staying on roads, I guess, and instead of saying anything, I stepped around the puddle of swamp accumulating underneath the back bumper. My helmet dangled from one hand as I shrugged my backpack further up my shoulder and stepped gingerly on to the back porch of the apartment, and through the back door.

The living room of our apartment was cool and dark in comparison to the muggy Florida atmosphere just outside the walls. Strewn over the floor, couches, and tables were cans of Coke and cups that had held more liquor than soda a few nights ago. The place smelled distinctly like vodka.

With a sigh, I dropped my stuff outside my door, stripping my riding jacket off as I moseyed on over to the kitchen and grabbed a jar of Nutella. I briefly considered grabbing a spoon but dismissed the idea almost as soon as it came. My Nutella. My rules. Nom.

I tentatively poked my head back out into the Florida heat and, with another sigh and a groan, stepped out fully and closed the door behind me. I figured Axel needed to tell someone about why it looked like he and his Jeep had narrowly escaped the same fate as countless white people in shitty swamp horror movies.

When I was standing right in front of the Jeep, I realized two things:

1. Axel had managed to get the damn thing buried to the windshield.

2. Somehow, some way, he'd managed to get it unburied… By himself.

3. He was probably going to try and get me to help him clean this monstrosity.

So I meant three things, whatever.

Axel cursed and something clanked underneath the car, but so far as I was concerned, it wasn't my problem. See, Axel was the expert on all things car in our household, because while I, in my bright eyed, bushy tailed youth, had signed the paper for grunt, my soulless ginger roommate had signed on for Motor-T. While this made him infinitesimally smarter than me, it made me endlessly less of a vagina than him.

He swore again and smacked something on the undercarriage of the Jeep. I had, by this time, taken a seat on the curb and was waiting for him to notice my presence. Lucky for me, it didn't take long; another failed attempt at whatever he was doing, and he scooted out from under the Mud Monster (as I had dubbed the poor vehicle), jumping when he caught me staring at him.

"What the f- Demyx, what the hell. How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

He narrowed his eyes at me. They were the only part of his body that was not covered in a thick layer of muck.

"Be all… Sneaky and shit. Fucking Ricky-Recon and shit."

I grinned, spooning some Nutella into my mouth. Nom.

"Ish called being aware of your shurroundingsh," I tried to speak through the chocolatey-hazelnutty goodness, but I was only marginally successful. Still, he rolled his eyes at me and rested his head on the door of his car. I wondered if his head would get stuck, what with all the mud and all. I hoped so.

"So how was your third day of school, Princess?"

It was my turn to glare at him. That nickname was strictly forbidden, as it was from a time long ago that nobody but my family and my jerk of a best friend knew about.

"First, fuck you. You know we don't talk about that. You weren't even supposed to see that video." He guffawed at my indignation. Nothing new. "And second… Well, I didn't almost die today. It was kind of nice."

We both went to the same college, but unlike Axel, I had thought it'd be cool to be a pilot major. I mean, it sounds cool, doesn't it? Go in to a bar, see a cute guy- or girl, if that's your thing- and say, "Hey, baby. I'm a pilot." It'd be like living as Top Gun, but without the gay montage at the end of the movie.

But it turns out Axel probably got the better deal. He was an Aerospace Engineer major, which meant he never had to go up and risk his life for the sake of a grade. He got to stay on the dirt and make airplanes and shit- or, that's the way he explained it to me, anyway.

Whatever. I still have a better pick up line.

"Well it's a good thing you didn't die, 'cause then I'd only have a limited time to use your death to pick up guys." He scratched a chunk of dirt off his face and flicked it at me. "As it stands now, I can say you're my retarded cousin and I look after you sometimes, and cute boys eat that shit up like fat kids eat cake. Or Nutella. Fatty." He grinned.

"Listen, you," I started, screwing the cap back on my delicious chocolate omnom, "I can eat what I want. And I get more cute boys than you anyway, so shut up." It was kind of lame, I know, but I couldn't think of anything else to say while he stood up and brushed off some dried dirt from his hair. His clothes sloshed when he moved.

"Course ya do, Demmykins. Of course ya do."

I walked with him around the apartment complex to the car cleaning station, so we could hose him off before he came inside the apartment. He told me, in between getting sprayed down and (accidentally) getting sprayed in the face, that he had gone off-roading in his Jeep in the morning, and had spent the rest of the day digging himself out of a super sneaky mud patch only to find that the four wheel drive wouldn't stay locked in position. He'd been trying to fix it when I'd gotten home.

When he was finally clean enough to not drip murky brown water, we headed back to our apartment, where he stripped to his boxers on the back porch, leaving the other clothing out to dry.

I'll admit, he's got a nice body. Tall and kind of lanky, but with a lot of lean muscle from four years of running around the desert fixing Humvees and trucks and shit. I'd had a thing for him in high school, but when we enlisted, homosexuality was still something D.I.'s accused their recruits of when they got really pissed off. We went to boot camp together, and we both knew the other was gay, but thanks to the nature of our jobs, nothing ever came of it.

I'm kind of thankful for that now, though. If we'd been together after getting out of the military, things would be pretty different today.

We walked in to the apartment and Axel's, "Aw, fuck" brought me back from the marvels of air conditioning. He was still dripping, holding himself and shivering, goosebumps raised all over his body.

"My clothes are in the washer. Can I borrow some of yours?"

I shrugged, went into my room and tossed him some sweats and a hoodie. He thanked me, but I didn't say anything, instead sitting on the couch and putting on a movie.

It was a relief when he was fully dressed. After months of celibacy, seeing a half naked man, even if it was my best friend, could certainly come to no good.

-.-.

After classes the next day, I was lounging on the couch, browsing episodes of The Office- 'cause that show is fucking awkward- when Axel burst through the backdoor, panting.

"Demyx! Dude!"

I looked up from Netflix, but I sure as hell didn't get up. Usually when Axel was loud and obnoxious like that, he'd tell me sooner rather than later what was on his mind.

"Bro, dude, dudebro¸ I'm not tryin' to be gay, but there's this fucking cute guy in my calculus class. Blonde hair, blue eyes, cute ass- No homo, of course."

Look, I didn't judge. We'd been practically raised in the military; old habits die hard, and as long as you say 'no homo' anywhere in the same breath as something clearly homo, then you wouldn't get kicked out/rank busted/set on fire. It just be like that.

Still, I did poke at him a bit. C'mon, it's Axel.

"No homo?"

"Yeah, bro. No homo."

"So like, on a scale of Halle Berry to Heath Ledger…?"

He made a face as he threw his bag down and hopped over the couch, grabbing my bowl of delicious oatmeal omnom.

"How am I supposed to put him on that scale? Both ends are sexy as fuck."

"Well, one end has a penis. That was kind of the point."

He didn't try to talk as he spooned some of my food into his mouth.

"Well… What's the middle ground lookin' like?"

"… Have you seen that youtube video with Old Greg?"

That got him choking. Sometimes, messing with him was really too much fun.

"Wait, so you have some kind of reverse bell curve of attractiveness on a scale that ranges from female to male? Man, fuck you. That's not fair."

I shrugged, snatching my bowl back.

"You can totally say Heath Ledger if it makes you feel better."

He glared at me, but didn't respond. We sat there in silence for a moment or two- long enough for me to find the episode of The Office I wanted to watch (Scott's Tots, by the way) before he spoke again.

"So he's totally fucking gorgeous. Nnnnn- nnyeah." He almost said No Homo. Almost, but not quite. Demyx: +1.

I feigned indifference, but I won't lie; I was kind of, a little bit jealous. Not quite sure of who, though.

"So what are you gonna do about it?"

He seemed to think it over. "Well, I'm pretty sure he's gay. Maybe I can convince him that boning me is in his best interest." Then he grinned and poked me in the ribs. I jumped. From surprise. 'Cause I'm not ticklish, damn it.

"After all, my dear sweet Demmykins, I am one sexy motherfucker. Like, I'd fuck me. No homo."

I shook my head, but suddenly, I couldn't stop thinking about Front Row Kid- Zexion. Sweet (maybe), young (definitely) Zexion, approached by my crazy haired, tatt'd up roommate. What if he thought Axel was sexy? Shit, I'm not gonna lie- I'd be pissed. That kinda surprised me more than anything else.

"Bro, this kid is probably straight as an arrow. I don't think you have the patience to try and make him switch up his tune."

Axel shook his head and closed his eyes. I got the feeling he was picturing Blonde Haired, Blue Eyed, Cute Assed kid. Probably naked.

"Man, I'd eat a mile of his shit just to see where it came from."

I grimaced. Literally, that has to be one of the most fucking disgusting sayings in the military. I don't know if the Army says it, but we fucking did all the time. Really. Gross.

"Seriously, dude? Ugh."

He laughed at me- my facial expression, I guess, or maybe my squeamishness- and shrugged.

"Fine. I'd drag my dick through a mile of broken glass just to rub it on his leg."

That was supposed to be better?

"Ew, man. A, you totally stole that from Terminal Lance, and B, I don't want to think about your dick on anybody's leg, regardless of what you drag it through to get there. Fucking queermo."

He threw his hands up in defeat and I got my seven daily chuckles at his expense as I went to rinse my bowl out.

-.-.

It was about a week after that, that shit got real.

Like, really real.

I was in the chow hall- uhh, the cafeteria?- whatever, I was walking through a big ol' lunchroom, carrying a tray of what the college passed off as Chinese food, when I saw Zexion.

Now, it wasn't surprising that I saw him; after all, the kid goes to the college, and I'm sure he needs to eat. No, what was surprising was that he was with somebody.

Axel had been talking about that blonde literally every second of the week I'd spent with him. I had actually gotten tired of making gay jokes 'cause it was too easy. But when I saw Zexion, and the kid he was with, I got this hunch. On some Velma type shit, you know? The kid sitting with my Philosophy partner was blonde, blue eyed, and incredibly young looking.

Though that last part had never deterred Axel in the past. Jinkies.

But I got this hunch, right? Even though there had to be thousands of guys on campus, I got the feeling that that particular blonde was in fact the one Axel had a boner for, and he was sitting with the kid that I had a- well, that I thought was cute.

So my spidey senses were tingling. I'll be honest with ya, I was kind of interested in the pair. From what I'd seen, Zexion was a pretty frosty character.

I mean, not to be cocky- but I think I'm pretty fucking friendly and shit. But I hadn't even been able to wrangle a major out of this kid. For all I knew, he could be some Civil Engineering geek. Every time I talked to him, he looked at me like, "Isn't there a flavored window on the short bus with your name on it?" and it kind of discouraged me. A little bit.

Well, a lotta bit.

Okay, so sue me. The first guy I find really attractive without fear of reprisal from on high shoots me down without saying a word, and it discouraged the fuck out of me.

Yet, here he was with this blonde, conversing and shit; he actually looked like he was paying attention. I either got indifference or the flavored windows look.

By this point, I'd chosen a little two seater table by the glass wall and was pretending to not stare at the two while forking fried rice down my gullet faster than good health dictated. The blonde's back was to me, but I got a pretty good view of Zexion. He was engaged- leaning forward, brows furrowed- and because of this, I went unnoticed.

I was kind of giving myself the creeps though. There's collecting enemy intel, and then there's kind of, sort of, stalking. I'm pretty sure what I was doing was the latter.

But then it happened.

Zexion smiled.

And it wasn't this little smirk he does when he's being condescending- I'd seen quite a bit of that- no, it was a genuine, smile, and it crinkled his visible eye up at the corner, and his ears moved back a little bit, and I choked at first.

Then I literally could not do anything besides stare.

Scratch what I said about "cute". This kid was fucking gorgeous.

I suddenly understood Axel's fascination with his little blonde jailbait much better; I would gladly drag my dick through a mile of discarded heroin needles just to put it near Zexion's leg. Goddamn.

As I thought that last bit, he looked up, and caught my eye, and I realized I was staring like there was indeed a flavored window I should have been attending to. He narrowed his eyes and I decided then that it was about time I reevaluated my whole damn game plan.

I'll be damned if I've ever gotten out of a building so fast.

-.-.

The next time I saw him was the week after that life changing smile I witnessed.

He wasn't in class that Friday, and we didn't have class Monday, so by the time Wednesday rolled around, I was pretty hopeful that he wouldn't even remember that he'd caught me drooling all over my table staring at him.

Have I made it clear that my luck doesn't quite work that way?

As soon as I walked in, that hostile body language was back. Arms crossed, chin tucked, glaring at the board like it had said something about his mom. Or written something. You know what I mean.

I dropped my bag on the desk in front of my seat, and plopped down next to him, folding my hands in my lap and waited for him to speak.

And waited.

Aaaand waited.

So I've done some pretty messed up things before in my life. Cheated on a girlfriend in highschool. Shot at people. Leveled a weapon at a kid, once. I got chewed out for that one, even though I couldn't see what was in his hand- and trust me, rocks look a damn sight similar to fucking grenades when you're moving fast- but I swear, that shoulder was the coldest I'd gotten in a long time.

Zexion didn't say a word to me that whole class, 'til the very end. After the prof dismissed us, Zexion slid his glare to me, then back to the copious notes he'd taken, and back. He looked like he wanted to cuss me out.

Shit, why was he so mad?

I mean, yeah, I stared at him. But what the hell? What's so bad about that?

He huffed a breath, opening his bag and sliding his folders and binders in. "I would greatly appreciate it if you would stop… If you would kindly…" he scowled, huffed again. "If you would stop looking at me."

My eyebrows couldn't go any higher. Seriously.

"Are you serious?"

His scowl morphed into a glare. If I hadn't seen it, I wouldn't believe homeboy could smile.

"Of course I'm serious. It makes me uncomfortable." His movements were jerky, face a little flushed. He looked more than uncomfortable- he looked spittin' mad. I suddenly got this thought, and before I could stop it, it came out of my mouth.

"Do you curse?"

He slowed to a stop, staring at me. I couldn't help the, "Oh, shit, I forgot to change my stupidity filter!" look on my face, but it was okay- the expression he was sporting reminded me, anyway.

"Excuse me?"

"Do you curse? Like, swear words?" What's a mistake made once, after all? It only counts if you ask the same dumb ass question three times, when you shouldn't ask it at all.

His glare returned, this time absolutely poisonous. God, this kid had buttons I didn't even know existed.

"Vulgarities are a crutch for the verbally inept and weak minded. So no, I don't use swear words."

For some reason, this struck me as hilarious. I managed to keep my laughter inside, however, I couldn't stop my lips from twitching up into a grin, and this did wonders for the kid's mood. With a frustrated, "Ugh," he stood, roughly pulling the strap of his bag over his shoulder. "Do you have to be so… So absolutely… Agh, infuriating?"

I smiled slyly. "You mean fucking infuriating?" Okay, so what if I was alienating him? He'd calm down eventually. And this was literally too much fun to not do.

With narrowed eyes, he glanced at me once more before storming out of the classroom.

After he left, I leaned back, grinning openly, and wondered how in the hell I was gonna convince this uptight grammar nazi to want me.

The whole thing about "I'd eat a mile of his(her) shit just to see where it came from" is totally true. That shit really does gross me out. Anywho.

Tell your friends! Tell your family! Review anonymously, if you have to!

- ARA