"So."
"Shut up."
"We're in detention. Again. Together."
"And it's your fault. Again."
He laughed. "It is not. You threw your notes at me, you bastard."
"You kissed me. And oh, now you're calling me a bastard? Well then."
The voice from across the room interrupted their conversation for the thousandth time. "You're both staying in here five extra minutes for that highly offensive conversation."
"Excuse me, sir, but what in the hell was offensive about that conversation?" Axel challenged.
"Do not use that language with me, Devereux. And if I heard you correctly, both of you were discussing things that should be taken care of outside of school." Saïx glared at him.
"We'd be outside of school right now if you'd let us go."
"I'll have none of your sass, Devereux," was Saïx's reply. "You'll be staying after another five minutes." He looked at Roxas. "And you, Slater, have served your time. You may go."
When he had turned his eyes back to his paperwork, Roxas stood up. He was about to swing his bag over his shoulder and walk out, but Axel took advantage of Saïx's lack of attention and pulled him back toward his desk. Leaning forward, he brushed a kiss against Roxas's cheek, whispered, "See you later," and turned back to his desk.
Roxas rushed out of the room, letting the door slam behind him.