Chapter Four: Ligaments
Lorde- Buzzcut Season
The amount of energy that Axel had when he demanded that Roxas get the fuck up and smell the ocean was enough to startle the boy to the point of nearly ruining his day. Axel was far too exuberant for this hour, whatever time it might be. There wasn't a point in time that Roxas hated more than the few blurry moments you experience after you wake up when you're trying to force yourself to do the unspeakable: join the living. It felt much like twisting your own arm to a breaking point.
Roxas groaned and pulled the blanket over his head.
"Don't give me that shit you little ankle biter," Axel said, attempting to tear the blanket away from the boy. He had the back of the Jeep wide open, sunlight streaming brightly into the usually dark car. Roxas could tell, even from underneath the ratty blanket, that the clouds and rain had dissipated in lieu of a cold, cloudless sky, pale with the colors of the sunrise.
"Don't call me an ankle biter, you fucking fuck hole," Roxas mumbled from his nest of blanket.
"Come on! Awaken, Sleeping Beauty! This is no time for acts of folly! Pancakes doth call our names!"
"What time is it?" Roxas groaned, daring to peep a squinting eye from behind his soft shield.
"Seven oh four."
"It's seven in the morning?" Roxas asked, burying himself back into the haven of bed, however trashy it was.
"Yes, sunshine, normal people wake up at seven and eat breakfast and brush their teeth and style their hair and all that shit. Now let's go, wee one!"
Axel talked with his hands, Roxas noticed.
"But we don't even have to go to school," he whined.
"I know, and that's more reason to get up early and enjoy the day when it's lacking the oppression of public education. Now let's go!"
With a final tug, Axel effectively ripped the blanket away and left Roxas curling into a ball, feeling naked and at the mercy of the elements.
"You're pathetic," Axel said with a hand on his hip.
"You're a dick."
Axel rolled his eyes and grabbed the despairing teenager by his ankles, pulling him towards the edge of the bumper and effectively giving him no choice but to put his feet on the ground and stand.
"Holy shit your hair," Axel said, pointing and laughing.
"Shut up. God, I fucking hate you," Roxas said, frowning deeply and running his fingers through his feathery blond hair, trying to make it somewhat presentable.
"Is it like that every morning?" Axel asked.
"Yes, asshole, that's what happens when you sleep on your hair. Then again, you wouldn't know, since yours is so disgusting it just stays in that shape."
"Hey, it's not disgusting, it's au naturale," Axel said with flourish of one hand.
"It probably smells like week old dirty dishes."
"It smells phenomenal, come 'ere, give it a wiff."
"Ew, no!"
"It smells like lavender! I shit you not!"
Axel chased Roxas around in the street for a moment, head down, trying to rub his hair on the boy's face or neck or whatever other exposed skin there was.
"Now that you're awake and refreshed on this brisk morning," Axel said after they'd gone back to the Jeep to get their things, "throw on your jacket, put on this beanie to hide that dead cockatiel on your head," a black knit hat was thrown into Roxas' face, seemingly from nowhere, "and let's get some breakfast!"
The duo walked away from the SUV and towards The Strip. Axel slung his arm over Roxas' shoulders and began singing some Eagles song, or something else old white people listen to, leaving Roxas walking with his arms stiff by his side, feeling awkward and disbelieving that a human could possibly be this cheerful this early in the morning.
They walked two blocks back to The Strip, made a left, and walked another short block to a little breakfast joint that Axel swore had the best food that'd ever graced his mouth. The t-shirt shops and henna tattoo parlors and snack shops were all closed, but the color was still enough to leave Roxas breathless with bright eyes. The scores of palm trees blew in the slight yet ever-present breeze that numbed his cheeks, and if Roxas looked behind them he could see the Sky Wheel, an impressively large ferris wheel that could have his stomach churning with acrophobia just looking at it. Apart from feeling a little self-conscious and unsure of what to do with his arms with Axel being so close, he felt uncharacteristically lively, and most importantly, he felt inspired. He felt like the two of them were a sight to see in their leather jackets and studs and torn denim and messy hair. His eyes were bright, his smile was small but undeniably there, and his nose was full of the unmistakeable smell of ocean.
"Olympic Flame Pancake House," Roxas read the green and white sign in front of the fairly dated, but not ancient, building.
"Wait 'til you have their coffee, oh sweet Lord," Axel gushed.
Axel's arm dropped from Roxas' shoulders as he pushed open the door, holding it for Roxas and bowing.
"Asshole," Roxas sneered, pushing Axel away from the door and opening it himself. There was something like a little jolt in his guts at the action, at the awareness that Roxas had just made deliberate playful human contact with the redhead for the first time. It felt like another stitch in the tapestry of their companionship, or some other metaphor that belonged in a bad Lifetime movie.
The diner was surprisingly quiet, considering the amount of people there, and only a gentle murmur of conversation and lightly clinking silverware could be heard. It was seven in the morning, after all, Roxas thought. There may have been three tables open from what he could see, and inhaling deeply, he could feel a light pang in his stomach as the smell of pancakes, syrup, and bacon wafted up his nostrils. He didn't finish his burger last night, and he hadn't eaten at all the day before. He often had a hard time shoving sustenance down his throat when he was anxious, no matter how hungry he thought he was.
"Cid!" Axel proclaimed as he entered the restaurant, interrupting any amount of peace and quiet that may have existed before.
"Hoo doggy," the man named Cid said as he looked up from the host booth, "I haven't seen that ugly face in over a year. Where the hell ya been, boy?"
"Finishing college as fast as I could. I had summer courses up to my eyeballs last summer and couldn't make it out here to see my favorite backwoods piece of shit."
"No shit," Cid replied, the two coming together for a stereotypical man-hug with heavy slaps on the back and everything. "Who's the little tyke?"
Cid looked around Axel to eye Roxas with a grimace that seemed perpetual. Roxas felt his upper lip curl gently, but hopefully not enough to offend. He was trying to work on the chronic bitch face.
"This is Roxas. I picked him up on the side of the road."
Cid chuckled, waiting for the real introduction.
"No, really, he was hitchhiking and I was the unlucky bastard that decided to pick him up."
"Hey," Roxas said, shooting the redhead a look.
"God damn it kid, I ain't even gonna ask," Cid grumbled as he turned and walked to a booth, pulling a chair from a table and sitting down, waiting for the pair to join him. Axel did so quickly while Roxas hesitated behind him. Watching Axel walk to that booth frustrated him on an unreasonable level, and he wondered how long it took the average person to hone in the ability to look so cool and controlled every second of every day. Maybe he was born with it.
Axel saved Roxas from potential social catastrophe by offering him a cigarette as soon as they were seated in the booth, facing each other. He felt that he understood on a deep level, now, the whole appeal around cigarettes.
"So, Roxas," Cid said, turning his entire body towards him, which seemed suspiciously weighted to the boy, "how're you likin' America's Favorite Beach?"
"I dunno yet. We just got here last night," Roxas answered quietly.
"And you didn't drag him into any trouble?" He asked, looking to Axel.
"Ehh, we may or may not have been chased out of Goodwill by an old lady. Nothing crazy."
Cid shook his head and grumbled.
"Don't get the kid arrested and sent home, now."
"I won't, Daddy."
"Now kid," Cid said, ignoring Axel and looking back to Roxas, "I know this is some kind of big ol' adventure for ya an' all, but I'm gonna give ya three pieces of advice. One, don't go to the foam parties. Just... trust me on that one."
"No, I want to hear about your harrowing experiences at the foam parties Cid, please," Axel said, leaning in with his fists pressed against his cheeks.
"Two," Cid continued, ignoring Axel's existence entirely, "Don't get tattooed at some fuckin' tourist trap that sends a tacky ass limousine to come get yer drunk ass from a bar so you can make life-long mistakes involving a dragon on yer ass cheek. What's that fuckin' place called? Dr. Ink?"
"Dr. Ink and Piercings, yeah," Axel said with a nod.
"Three... Never, and I mean never go to Medieval Times... Actually, on that note, just don't go anywhere that smells too much like tourists."
"Get bent, I went there three years ago and I had the fucking time of my life!" Axel interrupted.
"Don't listen to that jackass, listen to me," Cid interrupted, taking a drag from his Marlboro Red.
"I still have my fucking crown! And my purple goblet!" Axel said, practically clambering on top of the table with excitement.
"What is it?" Roxas asked curiously. A waitress came by and placed mugs on the table then, Axel still struggling not to explode as she poured the coffee.
"Okay, here's the jist; you go in, you sit in this arena, they bring you shitty food, an' a bunch of fuckin' fairy boys ride around on their horses and joust each other fer the fair maiden's hand in marriage, an' sword fight with fake ass swords that spark when they clash, an' it turns into some dumb ass story about betrayal an' shit, I can't really remember, I jus' remember it being queer as fuck. Shera fuckin' dragged me to it years ago."
"It's not even like that," Axel exclaimed, looking horribly saddened and offended.
"Oh Christ," Roxas said, looking skeptical. He couldn't imagine such a cheesy dinner-and-a-show type of deal to be quality in any way. He wrapped his hands around his coffee mug and took a small sip. "Oh Christ," he repeated, looking down in awe at the best coffee that had ever graced his tongue.
"Are y'all ready to order?" The waitress came back and asked, placing silverware on the table.
"Yeah, he'll have the french toast with bacon, eggs over easy, and hash-browns, and I'll have more coffee," Axel answered immediately before Roxas could even think.
"You sure you don't want anything to eat, sweetie?" The waitress asked, looking at Axel with concern, probably eyeing his seemingly gangling appearance.
"I'll be fine," Axel said with a nod.
Roxas stared at Axel.
"Who said you could order for me?" Roxas asked.
"Trust me on this."
"What if I don't like french toast?"
"I don't care what you like or don't like, you are going to like this, I promise."
Roxas rolled his eyes. Cid ashed his cigarette in the cheap aluminum ash tray in the center of the table.
As they waited for their food, Cid introduced himself a bit more fully to Roxas, explaining that he was the proprietor of the pancake house, and that it had been in his family for going on forty years now. Before he took over, he was a combat pilot in the U.S. Airforce. He was discharged from his military career four years ago, but didn't explain why. Roxas noticed that his hands shook lightly and unceasingly.
"Well, I'll let you kids eat yer breakfast in peace," Cid said as he stood and replaced the chair he'd been sitting in. "Nice meetin' ya, Roxas."
"Nice meeting you, too," Roxas said, eyeing the massive amount of food that was suddenly placed in front of him.
Axel snorted and pressed his lips together.
"Please tell me you can finish what I don't eat, because I can't fucking eat this much."
"Oh no. You're eating every bite and you're gonna like it."
"I can't do this."
"Do you need instructions?"
"No."
"Do you need me to feed you?"
"Ugh, no."
"Then eat! I'm telling you, you're gonna love it."
Roxas rolled his eyes and looked back down at his plate. There was an oval platter with four giant slices of french toast, a plate on his left with three eggs and four slices of bacon, a plate on his right harboring the biggest pile of hash browns he's ever seen, and a small bowl filled with butter.
He was hungry...
Roxas picked up his fork, took the first bite, and it was over.
"Wow. You weren't fucking around, were you?" Axel asked, resting his head against one fist, looking at Roxas with hooded eyes, lifted eyebrows, and a smirk that Roxas knew meant 'I told you so'.
Every plate was cleaned, including the bowl of butter, and Roxas regretted nothing, though he felt that his blood must be running thicker.
"I think I've found my favorite new restaurant."
Roxas smiled and leaned back in the booth, putting his hands behind his head. Axel had been right about a lot of things thus far, and this was definitely one of them. Another thing, Roxas realized, was that he did feel better about all of this since waking up. Time heals all wounds, or whatever the fuck the saying is.
"Hey we're gonna use your bathroom to brush our teeth and do our hair, okay Cid?" Axel yelled from across the restaurant.
"Fine, whatever, just don't scare away my customers, okay?" Cid hollered back.
Roxas found himself with his back against the cold sand, the pier to his left and the Sky Wheel to his right. He looked up to the redhead sitting next to him, the impressive casual-thrill ride framing Axel's form like a halo. He was staring off into the cold grey ocean with a smooth, calculating expression.
"What're you thinking?" Roxas asked quietly. The waves crashed against the shore, and the sound was somehow both overpowering and soothing. The smell of salt was stronger than ever.
"I was thinking about light. You know, how it refracts, how it creates color."
"Yeah?"
"It's just weird, you know? Light makes the sky blue. It makes the sun set red... Bet you don't know why." Axel smiled.
"Do tell."
"Out of all the colors, red travels the farthest."
"Are you high?"
"For some reason, no."
Roxas huffed a silent laugh and shook his head, looking back to the ocean. He was more at peace in this moment than he had been since... well, he couldn't remember how long it'd been since he'd felt at peace. There had always been a sense of freedom in this place for him, in the infinitive stretch of sand and never-ending expanse of ocean. He was sure that there was a part of him that will always regret never being able to do this with Hayner, Pence, and Olette, but being here with Axel was just as perfect, if not more so. After all, there was no sense of deadline, no thought of having to call Mom to let her know when they would be leaving to come back home, no thought of having to make it back in time to crawl into bed and wake up for school in the morning. He took a deep breath in through the nose and let the indescribably elaborate scent of ocean circulate through him like an intravenous drug.
He dug his fingers in the sand beside him, spread them apart, pushed and pulled the silky soft grains to and fro, when he felt his fingertips graze the warm skin of a hand next to him.
"Sorry," Roxas apologized as quickly as his hand retracted, the hot flush of embarrassment flooding his face.
Axel chuckled. "'S okay."
Roxas brushed the sand off on his pants leg and tucked his hands behind his head where they couldn't potentially humiliate him again.
The waves crashed and rolled and washed away everything they touched.
"Want one?" Axel asked, holding out the soft-pack that was quickly becoming some sort of tether between them, a metaphorical umbilical cord between progenitor and fetus.
"Sure," he responded, like he knew he probably always would. He had the thought that he would never want to tell Axel 'no', but that could be a disastrous way of thinking, and Roxas forced himself to think more like a reasonable human being and less like a Disney princess.
They smoked in silence until Axel's phone rang, breaking the tranquility.
"Well fuck my ass, it's our girl," Axel said, eyes bright. "Hello, darlin'," he said, answering the phone. "You're here? Fuckin' sweet, where are you? … The bus station? You took a bus? … Fuckin' figures... Ugh, don't, I'll pick you up in twenty minutes or something like that, hell I don't know where the bus station is... Okay, stay put, I'll come get you... Bye."
It took them an obnoxious amount of time to find the bus station, and Roxas was sure that they would be driving up to meet a very angry female. Anyone would be angry if they had to wait at a bus station for an hour and a half for their ride to come pick them up. Unreliable convenience store clerk directions were always a crap shoot, after all.
When they did meet her though, Roxas was sure that if a precise counterpart for Axel's soul existed, it was her. There were four things he noticed about her within the first three days of being in her presence. One, she never, ever took off her beanie; it was a more of a plum knit sack that hung off the back of her head. Two, she smelled of clove cigarettes, coffee, and cheap perfume on a constant basis. Three, she had this excellent ability to somehow make the likes of Axel Payne arrive at a loss for words.
Four, she was as blunt and unvarnished as a cantankerous old man.
"You're short," were the first words that escaped her deceivingly delicate mouth. She stood there, smoking a mentholated clove cigarette, in front of one of the benches in front of the Greyhound station, which was permanently peppered with empty snack sized chip bags, drink bottles, and homeless people.
"So are you," Roxas replied.
Every stitch of clothing on her was dark and soft, much like her short black hair. Her expression was withdrawn and mildly acrimonious; Roxas thought that she may have a pretty decent case of chronic bitch face just like him.
"Good morning, beautiful," Axel greeted cheerily, an exaggerated smile stretched across his face like saran wrap.
"Don't fuck with me right now. Do you know how much I hate buses?" She took a long, crackling drag off her cigarette.
"Enough to not even bother to hug your best friend after you haven't seen him in at least sixty years?"
"You are so stupid," Xion said, but Roxas saw her fight a smile as she threw herself into Axel's open arms. The two embraced fiercely in a way that made it hard to tell if they were friends or lovers.
"I missed you so much," Roxas heard her mumble into his jacket.
"I missed you too, baby girl," Axel said with a kiss to the top of her head, not daring to loosen his grip just yet.
Axel turned his head and looked dead at Roxas, and the look in those green eyes had his brain recalibrating everything he'd ever felt about friendship and that mysterious way humans seem to synchronize with each other, a function that Roxas never could get a good grasp on.
This was different because it was easy. The effortlessness had startled the boy ever since he'd looked into that now familiar face just the day before when he'd been standing on the roadside. The fact that he hadn't struggled to give a shit every time the man spoke was still something he was treating warily, like some dangerous animal that may or may not have rabies.
"Well," Axel said as he finally pulled away from the girl, "what next?"
"I've got two duffel bags of belongings, since my car crapped out the day I was going to leave, and I'm willing to assume that neither of you have much of anything to call your own, either... Actually, who exactly is this guy, anyway?" She looked at Roxas with lazy curiosity.
"This is Roxas," Axel responded. "I picked him up on the way. Don't worry, he's harmless."
"No shit," Xion said, throwing he cigarette butt on the ground.
"You never know, I could be a cold-blooded killer," Roxas said, challenging the girl.
"Yeah, and I could be a fucking monk," Xion said with a roll of her eyes.
"You two are either going to get along really well or fucking murder each other," Axel said.
If it had been anyone else in the world, Roxas would have been riled up and ready to spit venom in their eyes, but there was something about this girl that only made him feel as if he were being yanked towards her by some invisible string attached directly to his guts. She didn't anger him; he only wanted to interact with her more.
"Are you always so quick to judge?" Roxas asked, a smirk forming slowly on his face.
"Is that the kind of phase your in at this point in your life, kid?" she asked, her eyes twinkling in a way that made Roxas sure that no one had dared challenge her in a millenia. "Did mommy and daddy judge you? Are you edgy and misunderstood?"
"I'm not the one smoking cloves."
"Ooh," Axel said, looking back and forth between them like he was watching a tennis match, without all of the monotony.
After a moderate, thoughtful pause, Xion spoke with a bright, beautiful smile that Roxas instantly fell in love with.
"I like him," she said, looking up at Axel.
"Me too," Axel responded.
Xion had a list of rental properties for the three of them to attempt to rifle through, unanimously agree on, and sign a lease for hopefully by the end of the day. Roxas wasn't sure what the process was for all of this, but he was certain that they wouldn't be signing a lease for three bed, two bath, ocean front condo in Murrell's Inlet.
At first sight of the third piece of shit house they drove by, Roxas was certain that if Axel were a dog, he would have pissed himself out of excitement.
"This one, this one, this one! Oh Xion please say yes, it's perfect."He was bouncing up and down in the driver's seat of the Jeep, Xion sitting in the passenger seat looking highly unconvinced.
"Let's look at the inside first."
"Call the landlord, right now, call him!"
Roxas looked through the tinted window at a small, fairly dingy, slightly run down house with white wash paint, black shutters (which were most likely fake, considering the windows all had iron bars over them), and a red front door. The paint seemed to be chipping and peeling on every square foot of the exterior. The grass was overgrown and threatening to invade the small front porch, and had almost nearly swallowed the small concrete walkway leading to the front steps.
"Keep your fucking shirt on," Xion said, dialing a number while Axel pulled over to park on the side of the road.
"Yes, may I speak with Mr. Brazel? Hey, my name is Xion Foster, I was calling to request some information on a house for rent on thirteen Twilight Avenue?... Well, yes, we're actually parked in front of it right now... Oh! Shit, that's convenient. Five minutes? Sounds good. We'll be here... Bye."
"Well?" Axel asked, eyes on fire.
"He lives like, literally up the road. He's coming right over to give us a little tour."
"No me gusta," Axel said, curling up his nose.
"If he seems like the nosy type, we'll keep looking."
Axel lit a cigarette and started telling stories about nosy residential advisors from USC. In one story about the RA that burst into his room and almost caught him mostly naked, snorting xanax off of his friend's tits, he explained how he craftily avoided the situation by getting on top of her, hiding the drugs with his hair, and pretending to fuck her in a room full of people. Apparently, the look on the nerdy RA's face was priceless.
Roxas heard a loud car engine pull up behind them, and he turned to see a large man with dreadlocks, sideburns, and ratty tattoos exit an old, faded blue El Camino.
"What the fuck?" Roxas mumbled. He thought landlords were supposed to be the professional, collared shirt types. He was sure he could see holes in the man's wife beater.
Xion and Axel stepped out of the Jeep immediately, while Roxas slid out slowly. He was confused, and hoped that the guy didn't ask him many questions, because there wasn't much Roxas thought he could answer truthfully, and he didn't think he could lie effectively at this point, either.
"Xion," the man said, extending a big, calloused hand towards her.
"Mr. Brazel," she replied as she shook his hand firmly, with a small smile, "it' a pleasure."
"Call me Xaldin for God's sake, I feel old enough as it is."
Roxas thought that if an overflowing glass ash tray had a sound, it would be his voice.
"Hiya, I'm Axel," the redhead said, shaking Xaldin's hand.
"And you are?" the intimidating figure asked, turning to Roxas.
"Roxas," he responded simply.
"Hm. Nice to meet you, Roxas."
"Shall we get this tour underway, or what?" Xion asked, clasping her hands together.
"Yeah, let's go on inside." Xaldin said, and with a scratch of his belly he meandered down the overgrown walkway, the trio following behind.
"It's been a while since anyone cut the grass, I can have our maintenance guy do that immediately with no charge if you decide to sign the lease today. Speaking of which, I'm having a special this month, half off the deposit if you sign within twenty-four hours. I don't do background checks or any of that bullshit, so I won't fuck you or pull any strings."
"I like this guy," Axel whispered to Xion.
"By the way," Xaldin said, stopping at the front door and fussing with a ring of keys, "as long as you don't sneak around and don't fuck with me or my rules, I won't fuck with you. If you don't do anything stupid, I won't have reason to come around. Catch my drift?"
The trio was silent for a moment, until Axel broke it.
"Note taken."
Xaldin grunted and unlocked all three of the locks on the door and stepped inside.
The house was small and old. There was wood panelling on the walls that was most likely original from the seventies, creaking hardwood floors, and dirty windows that probably hadn't been replaced in decades thanks to the iron bars.
"This is the living room, as I'm sure you guessed. That room to the right is the kitchen, as I'm sure you also guessed." The doorway to the kitchen was wide, about six feet across, and Roxas saw a white tiled floor, a sliding glass door, and the edge of a counter top. "Down the hall there's the bedroom and bathroom, you can go look inside if you'd like. Bedroom's got a walk-in closet. Washer and dryer hookups are in the kitchen."
"It smells like ball sweat and bong water in here," Axel grumbled.
"It's fucking perfect," Xion whispered with a smirk. She'd wandered to the sliding glass door in the kitchen that lead to a huge back yard with an in-ground pool, diving board and everything.
"Goddamn it, if those assholes don't stop tagging my fucking pool," Xaldin started before yanking open the glass door and storming outside.
Colorful bursts of graffiti covered the concrete lining of the empty pool. The roman numeral XIII was the biggest piece that dominated the entire floor of the pool. Roxas tilted his head and studied the paint.
"I'll have this painted over tomorrow," Xaldin said, turning to Xion.
"No," Roxas spoke up for the first time since entering the house. "Leave it. It adds an artistic touch to the place, dontcha think?"
Everyone was quiet for a moment. Axel's eyes bore into Roxas with whole-hearted agreement.
"I think you're right, Roxas," Xion responded.
"Alright. I guess if you want Organization Thirteen's tag in your pool, be my guest..."
"That's settles it, then!" Axel proclaimed, rubbing his hands together. "When can we sign the lease?"
"Okay, you have to pick one or the other, no rubbers allowed, and death is not an option."
"Shoot."
"Gary Busey, or the three day old corpse of Mila Kunis."
Axel hummed and leaned back onto his palms from where he sat on the cold floor."That's a good one... Wow, that's a really tough one... You think the rigor mortis would have let up at that point, or...?"
Roxas couldn't decide if he was disgusted or awe-inspired by this game and how good Xion showed herself to be at it immediately. Talking about who you'd rather fuck was supposed to be a fun discussion, but this was just... well, like Axel said, it was a tough one.
"I think full-blown putrefaction sets in after about three to four days, but I could be wrong..." Xion trailed off, chewing her lip in thought.
"Shit... Okay, okay, do I have to look at Gary Busey while he fucks me?"
"Well... I guess you can close your eyes."
"And cover my ears?"
"Sure, why not?"
"Okay, dead Mila Kunis then."
"Ugh, dude..." Xion scoffed and shook her head.
Roxas laughed and buried his face in his hands.
"Honestly, a corpse probably would be better than Gary Busey," he admitted.
"Who knows, what if the guy is a fucking god in bed?" Xion asked.
"Will you be the one to find out?" Axel asked with an eyebrow waggle.
"Actually... You know, I'd probably go for dead Mila Kunis, too."
The trio snorted and tried to get the image out of their heads.
"Okay, your turn Axel," Xion said, taking a drag from her cigarette.
They were surrounded by white candles that smelled like old lady perfume that they'd found at the Dollar General down the street. The power would be turned on sometime tomorrow, so for tonight, it was survival by candlelight and body heat. Axel's faithful air mattress was in the middle of the living room floor where the trio sat and played their games and swapped their stories. Roxas would never tire of listening to the two of them talk.
"Let's see... ahhh...," Axel flicked the ashes from his cigarette onto the floor. Roxas rolled onto one side of the air mattress to give Xion room to lie down next to him.
"I'm gonna start counting if you don't come up with something," Xion said.
"Okay, okay, Gimli from the Lord of the Rings or a donkey."
"Holy shit, Axel..."
"I will not pick for this one," Roxas said, covering his flush of embarrassment with his hands.
"Hey now, I don't make the rules..."
"Gimli, fuck it, I'd rather fuck a dwarf than perform bestiality," Xion said with an eyeroll.
"Same as Xion, I guess," Roxas answered.
"Same, I bet dwarves have thick cocks-"
"What the fuck-"
"Your turn, Roxas!"
Roxas was shaking his head and lighting a cigarette as he made his decision.
"I'm gonna do a normal one."
"Go for it," Axel said, kicking off his shoes.
"Lana Del Rey or Miley Cyrus."
"Lana Del Rey, is that even a question?" Xion answered immediately.
"Miley Cyrus. I bet she's a fucking freak, man," Axel said. "You know, she'd probably let me lick her asshole and everything."
"What if Lana Del Rey wanted you to lick her asshole, too?"
"I'd still pick Miley."
"How?"
"Different strokes, my darling, different strokes."
Axel slithered between Xion and Roxas and laid on his back, putting his arms behind his head.
The three were quiet for a while, simply staring at the shadows on the ceiling and enjoying each other's presence.
"It's getting cold," Xion mumbled, folding her arms across her torso tightly.
"Here," Axel said, sitting up and grabbing his trashed comforter, pulling it across the three of them.
"Better?" He asked.
"Yeah."
"How 'bout you, half pint?"
Roxas turned his head towards Axel's ever-prying, exaggerated features and pulled the blanket towards his chin.
"Yeah, I'm good."
Xion reached out and grabbed a few candles that were in reach, blowing them out and leaving the room cast in the faintest of orange glows.
Axel didn't tear his eyes away from Roxas, and Roxas could have committed multiple homicide right then if only to know what the redhead was thinking in that moment.
They stayed that way for longer than what Roxas would have ever considered comfortable before this phase in his life. Roxas could feel his eyelids grow heavy with the kind of sleepiness that you just know is a prerequisite for the deepest, most restful kind of sleep.
"You can use my arm as a pillow, if you want," Axel just barely whispered.
Roxas could feel the man's warm breath caress his face. His breath smelled like an ashtray, and that was just fine with Roxas. He wouldn't have wanted him to smell any other way.
Roxas slowly shifted and scooted so that his head was resting on Axel's lean bicep.
"Are you having a good time, sport?" Axel whispered.
"Yeah. I'm..." Roxas chuckled silently and shook his head against Axel's arm. "It's stupid."
"What's stupid?"
"Me. I just feel really stupid sometimes, the way I think."
"What are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking I've never felt anything like this before. Like, I've never felt freedom like this before. It's dumb, I know-"
"No, no, it's not dumb. It's fucking brilliant. Don't let anyone make you think that your feelings are invalid, just because they don't feel the same way. It's their loss that they can't feel the way that you do."
Roxas was silent for a moment, letting Axel's words steep in his mind.
"Thank you," he replied after a few moments.
"What for?"
"For picking me up."
Roxas' chest could have opened up and erupted with a swarm of butterflies when Axel leaned his head onto his' and answered, "The fun has just begun, kiddo."