Chapter Text
His shirt collar was putting up a bigger display of rebellion than Axel himself, but seeing as clothes made the man, his mother wasn't going to have any of it. Not tonight.
Despite Aerith's best efforts to raise a sweet-mannered and arguably stable child, Axel had grown up with an attitude most kindly described as 'colorful'. Where he got it, she really didn't know – his taciturn father (her ill-tempered ex-husband) hadn't been around for enough of his life to set an example, but perhaps the answer lay therein. This night had been inexorably difficult to coordinate, though, and she was determined to have everything go smoothly. Good first impressions, good manners, good food, and good company.
Very good company.
“Mom, no one's even gonna notice my collar,” Axel pointed out, and very poorly resisted rolling his eyes. Thankfully, Aerith was still fussing with it, as it was steadfastly determined not to lie flat.
“Well honey, I'll know.” At last, she seemed to decide it was satisfactory and smoothed his dress shirt with a brush of her hands. Very embarrassing, to a teenager in full public view in front of a nice restaurant. “You will be polite to Zack, won't you?”
“Yeah, of course,” he indulgently reassured her. “Best behavior.”
Aerith had done something right with Axel, at least, because he did mean that. He'd known about his mother's boyfriend since their very first date – naturally, she'd wanted to keep him in the loop regarding any and all men in her life, though Zack Fair was the first since the divorce. He also knew that Zack had kids of his own, and that the main reason he hadn't met the guy yet was because they thought the introductions should be a family affair on both sides.
It'd never seemed the right time, before now. Schedules conflicting, mostly, but also Aerith's deep-seated and not unreasonable worry that Axel wouldn't be... cooperative.
“I'll hold you to that, you know,” Aerith told him, stepping back with a stern look in her kind eyes. It gave Axel a feeling of preemptive sheepishness, because he didn't think he'd be able to resist messing with the New Boyfriend if he didn't like him, but he was still gonna try. “Alright, we're just a little early for our reservation, but we can go in.”
“Can we get appetizers?”
For a second she pondered whether or not that might offend, but she doubted it. It'd be better to rein Axel in with food, anyway. “I don't see the harm in that.”
The restaurant was one of those places that walked the line between classy and warm; the sort where the host offered both wine lists and kid's menus. They gave their name and were brought to their reserved table, which was set for six. Axel snatched his preferred seat right off (view of the kitchen doors, to grab advance warning of food arrivals) but balked at the number of menus.
“How many kids does he have, again?”
“Two boys – oh, thank you,” Aerith smiled at the hostess as she poured them all glasses of water, carefully unfolding the cloth napkin to drape across her lap. “They're a little younger than you, but not by much, I think.”
“So I'd get to play big brother? Pass down my knowledge to impressionable young teenagers?” Axel grinned. He had a terrible habit of looking like some kind of cat on the prowl when he did that, and it virtually always meant he was up to no good.
Aerith’s patented Mom-look was back on him. “I expect you to be the most responsible.”
“That hardly seems fair.”
“I mean it,” she insisted, and then resorted to the most diabolical tactic in her repertoire. “Please, Axel?”
Put in his place, Axel sighed. “I know, Mom...”
“Thank you.” Reassured, Aerith opened her menu. “Now, any thoughts on appetizers?”
Axel followed suit and scanned the first page. Fancy script, limited choices. “All of them?”
“You can have one.”
“Huh... Mozzarella sticks, I guess,” Axel decided, flipping absently through the rest of the menu.
Outside, a car was circling the lot once while Zack attempted to find a parking spot in his... heightened state.
“Be really polite. Not creepy-polite – nice polite. And try to make conversation. No surly-teen stuff,” he rattled off, and directed his latter comment to his younger son.
Twin tufts of blonde hair had been tamed and styled, the two boys dressed in the nicest clothing they owned. Woefully, that meant identical shirts and slacks, because it was a lot easier to buy two pieces of the same thing than hunt down another article that'd fit.
To underscore his individuality, though, Roxas had thrown on a black jacket and effectively rumpled his shirt already by keeping his arms tightly crossed.
“I know how to be actually polite, Dad.”
Ventus, who could be counted on in such a situation a lot more than his thirteen-minutes-younger-brother, was quiet. He was a lot more anxious about meeting Zack's girlfriend than her son, unsure if he should be thinking of her like a mother or not.
No matter what came of their relationship, Aerith would never replace their mother. But, given how terribly they all missed -
Well. It'd be nice, Ven thought, to have a maternal figure in their lives again. He just wasn't sure if it was right to think of his father's new girlfriend that way, before even meeting her.
Zack parked the car, and looked beseechingly over his shoulder. “... She's a really nice person, so promise me you'll give her a chance?”
“This is me giving her a chance,” Roxas muttered. Zack didn't prod for more than that, but did briefly plead with any and all higher powers to make tonight go well.
They went into the restaurant forming a comical conga line of emotions, with Zack radiating nervous exuberance, Ven close by and wrestling with anticipation and apprehension, and Roxas slouching moodily along after.
Their appetizers ordered, Axel had slumped against the table in boredom. When she saw Zack approaching, Aerith put a hand on her son's shoulder and prompted, “Sit up straight.”
“Hn?” Automatically, he obeyed.
Zack lit up when he saw her, and his worries appeared to dissolve instantly. He practically swooped upon Aerith to kiss her cheek in greeting, bringing a glowing smile to her face.
“Don't you look nice,” she praised, one hand sliding down his arm.
“And you always look nice,” Zack beamed, straightening up and turning. “These are my boys, Roxas and Ventus... And you must be Axel!”
Axel didn't appear to have heard him, at first. He was staring at the twins, lips apart in a dumbfounded gape.
“... Huh?”
Roxas stared back, color fluctuating in an alarmingly short span. He'd paled at the first mention of Axel's name, but a blush had started to creep up his neck and into his cheeks.
If anyone noticed that the two of them seemed to have met before, that they even might know each other, it wasn't commented on. Indeed, no one had noticed, and the boys themselves were disinclined to let on about it. They both had to compose themselves, and quickly.
“Yes, he certainly is,” Aerith glanced at Axel, quietly cuing him. “Are you going to say something?”
Over his shock, Axel started to grin, and didn't even sound sarcastic when he said, “Great to meet you.”
“Boys, sit down, check out the menus,” Zack ushered them, and Roxas took the farthest seat from Axel that he could. He refused to look his way if he could help it.
He did not want to be thinking of the thing he was thinking of. It was the worst thing. This was the worst thing.
“Have you guys ordered yet?” Zack questioned, flipping open the menu.
“Just an appetizer – you should get something, too, I'm sure it won't be very long...”
As the only one not wrestling with surprise, Ven was the first one to find his voice. “It's very nice to meet you.”
Privately relieved, Aerith smiled. “It's lovely to meet you, too-... I'm sorry, I'm not so sure who's who yet.”
Axel thought he already had a good grasp on telling the twins apart. He did not say so.
“This one's Ven,” Zack indicated. “Roxas?”
Forcibly reminding himself that his father liked this woman, Roxas mumbled, “Good to meet you.”
“So this is nice, right?” Axel started. “Getting everyone together, giving us all a chance to get to know each other. At long last. Is it cool if I call you Zack?”
Unsure if he was being sarcastic (he sounded genuine enough; Aerith was practiced at telling the difference, but chose not to call attention to it) Zack took a second to recover. “Uh – yes, of course. I don't respond to 'Mr. Fair' anyway.”
“It is nice. I've heard so much about Roxas and Ven, I can hardly believe I'm meeting you,” Aerith regarded the two boys with careful fondness. Roxas wondered how much Zack had filtered in order to say good things about him.
“C'mon, Mom, share info. I don't know anything about these people.” Axel sank back in his chair and lifted his water glass, eyes raking the Fair family.
“Well, the boys just started at Hollow Bastion High School,” Zack volunteered. “You don't go there, right?”
“No, but I have acquaintances there.” Axel counted drunken encounters at parties as 'acquaintanceship'.
“It was one of the ones we considered, but it just wasn't as close as your school, was it honey?” Aerith closed her menu, decision already made and more interested in the conversation at hand. “I've heard Roxas is quite interested in art.”
“Really?” Axel drawled, gaze leveled at Roxas. “I'm something of an artist, myself. What do you do, sing? Paint? Photography?”
Roxas pretended to be completely occupied with his menu. He desperately didn't want to talk about his hobbies now. With Axel.
Ven filled in. “He does photography, yeah.”
“Well, I'd love to see your pictures sometime,” Aerith suggested tentatively.
“So would I,” Axel agreed, a glint in his eye. Roxas's blush deepened, and he loathed that he had to be the one embarrassed over this, not Axel, not the one who'd been -
Inwardly cringing over his son's (pointed, he was sure) silence, Zack nudged Roxas and implored at a whisper, “Don't be rude.”
“I don't want to talk about this,” Roxas muttered.
“Try?” Zack was even quieter.
Strangely, it was Axel who offered him an out. “And what d'you do, Zack? Something physical? You look like you work out – kudos, Mom.”
Zack laughed, good humor back. “I work at ShinRa.”
Aerith was blushing faintly, now, herself. “We met at the company once before your father and I, well... Anyway, we ran into each other again almost a year ago and got to talk properly for the first time.”
Putting pieces together, Axel whistled. “Oh, shit, so one of your bosses is my dad? That's awkward.”
That actually hadn't occurred to Zack even once, since he and Aerith had started dating. General Sephiroth rarely spoke of Aerith, or his son... and as such, it was kind of easy to forget they'd ever been a family. Now, he wondered if that should make him uncomfortable.
Although Aerith would have preferred Axel mind his swearing, she'd learned to pick her battles. Instead, she said, “It won't be that awkward. Not all adults are petty about divorce, like in movies.”
“I wouldn't know how my father is 'bout this stuff,” Axel shrugged. “He wasn't very hands-on. I hope you understand if I get attached kinda quick, there might be some issues at work.”
This time, Zack picked up on the sarcasm. Roxas glowered over the top of the menu, wanting to defend his father almost as much as he wanted to sink into the ground and never be seen again.
Innocently, Axel munched on the mozzarella sticks as they were delivered to the table.
They were able to place their orders with the server, then, in which time the veiled threat of rising tempers cooled. Axel and Roxas had both promised better behavior than this, and they (unknowingly mutually) supposed they should reconsider picking a fight. Roxas chose to show his respect for his father's relationship by pretending Axel wasn't there, again.
Axel chose a different tactic. Friendly, polite. Make an effort, he reminded himself. “So. Ventus. What d'you do?”
“Oh, it's just Ven,” he corrected immediately, “And other than school, I just do some sword training and sparring. For fun,” Ven grinned modestly. “I'm not in competitions or anything yet.”
“Huh,” Axel's eyebrows lifted. “That's actually cool.”
“They're both pretty good at sparring,” Zack boasted proudly.
“So they take after you,” Aerith said, affection and amusement mingling.
“You've only had us do it since we could walk and hold a foam sword at the same time,” Roxas reluctantly contributed, and Zack laughed.
“Yeah... Guilty of that.”
“It's good for them to have something they care about that keeps them active,” Aerith noted approvingly.
“Yeah, but then my best friend became my trainer and Roxas didn't want to do it anymore.”
Lips barely moving, Roxas mouthed the words 'best friend' in invisible quotation marks. Axel bit back his own smart-mouthed commentary about handling swords.
“But you kept up your photography,” Aerith looked to Roxas again, determined to keep him involved. “That's wonderful.”
“Yeah,” he replied grudgingly.
“It's amazing, your boys are so involved in their extracurricular activities.”
Zack's chest puffed up a little in that proud paternal way. “What do you do in your spare time, Axel?”
Axel hesitated. “Uh. Chemistry.”
Aerith tried desperately not to throw him a look.
“Chemistry?” Zack repeated. “Sounds intellectual.”
“I think it's more artistic.”
“Axel, I don't think -” Aerith began, but Roxas's self-imposed distance had been broken by curiosity, and he indulged it without thinking it through.
“What does that mean?”
Lips curled in an impassioned smirk, pleasure for the subject poorly downplayed. “The chemical reactions between the application of fire and anything else,” Axel explained, with a glance at his mother. “Safe applications. With helmets on and whatever.”
Roxas's intrigue fizzled. “So you're a glorified arsonist.”
“No, they only call you an arsonist if there are charges.”
Zack glanced at Aerith, who had gently rest a hand over her face in embarrassment.
“Oh, so you haven't been arrested?” Roxas intoned, unable to keep his overpowering disdain contained anymore.
“Why, want to see me in handcuffs?”
He regretted that immediately. Axel watched the color drain from Roxas's face as he shot up from the table, heard his mother sigh, “Axel, please.”
“Sit back down,” Zack told Roxas sharply, eyebrows still raised. “Axel, do you always talk like that around your mother?”
Axel said nothing.
“I hope you're being quiet because you're thinking of a stellar apology, young man,” Aerith said crossly. Ven was sinking lower and lower in his seat.
Roxas sat again, leaning back in his chair and grumbling, “Can I go wait in the car?”
“No,” Zack heaved a breath. And to think... for a minute there, he'd thought this was going well. “I know this is hard for you guys, but we really need an effort from you, here.”
“Sorry,” Axel mumbled. “I'll rein it in.”
Roxas opted not to speak.
“Roxas,” Aerith tried gently, “you understand that your father makes me very happy, don't you?”
He very much didn't want to respond. If he hadn't known it would hurt her, not Axel, he wouldn't have bothered. “... Yes.”
“And I love Aerith a lot,” Zack looked to Axel.
“I gathered.”
“We're not asking you boys to be friends if you don't want to be...” Aerith started.
“But, for our sake, if you could just give... all of this a chance,” Zack shot a look to each of the teenagers in turn, big blue eyes reminding Axel of a sad puppy. “Get along, at least.”
Axel bit back the number of comments that raced through his head – how well they all could have gotten along, how he'd throw the dog a bone if it really meant that much to him – and nodded shortly. “For my mom's sake, fine.”
With a scowl, Roxas turned his face away from Axel, which made it easier to say, “Fine.”
“Thank you,” Zack relaxed a little, and took Aerith's hand under the table.
Here was the thing.
It'd been months ago, still in the height of summer break. A party that Larxene had gotten wind of, once the word 'unsupervised' had been tossed around. Axel had picked up a pack of beer the way he often did, hanging around the corner store and paying off older men to pick some up on his behalf. The three of them – he, Larxene, and Marluxia – were hanging around on the backyard porch, drinking their way through a six-pack and ignoring the thrum of bass.
Light filtered out through the glass doors, enough to see by, and a gaggle of smokers had formed a circle on the lawn, where they could flick their spent cigarettes into the damp grass. The night was still fairly young, or at least it wasn’t late enough to hear any precious possessions breaking, or party-goers bolting out to return their drinks to Mother Earth. You know, the sort of cliches high school house parties are built on.
“As I have no interest in hanging with you people,” Axel announced, finishing off his first beer, “I'll be taking off to mingle with higher society. Don't interrupt.”
Larxene was wearing his leather jacket. He didn't ask for it back, since he was warm enough without it and she'd threatened him until she could wear it. She snapped her fingers at him, beckoning like he was a servant. “Give me another beer, before you go.”
Of course he'd be taking the rest of the case with him. They were his. Marluxia was sipping his with an expression of distaste (too cheap for his liking) and made no such request.
“You'll be back, love,” he smirked, voice always deep and level and low with self-assurance. Axel kind of hated that about him, among all the other things.
“You're so cute when you're optimistic,” he fired at Marluxia, passing Larxene a beer and trudging his way up the back steps to get into the house.
That was where Roxas was. Abandoned by his best friend, who'd been the one to drag him to the stupid party in the first place, he'd melded into the wall and drank. And drank. Near the bottom of his glass, he'd started to feel a little hazy, blissfully so, and certain options seemed less... out of reach, as a result.
Who cared about Hayner. They'd find each other by the end of the night, probably. All Roxas wanted to do in the meantime was observe the unimpressive crush of people, and let his eyes be drawn to one specific demographic of the attendees.
A hand clasped Roxas's shoulder to keep him against the wall as someone squeezed by.
“Sorry, man...” Axel hardly looked at the guy he'd almost collided with. He was searching for familiar faces. Already irritable with the number of times he'd been brushed or bumped, Roxas tensed.
“Hey, you mind?!” he snapped, all the more irate when he realized he'd been practically pinned to the wall by a total stranger.
“Apologized, didn't I?” Axel stopped long enough to look down at Roxas, and smirked. Bow lips, blonde hair, blazing eyes.
“Shouldn't be pushing in the first place,” Roxas grumbled, and he was getting a look at the guy's face for the first time. Sharp jaw, red mane, dramatic eyes.
Unknowingly, Roxas went a bit pink. Completely knowingly, Axel licked his lips.
“Not pushing. Holding you in position while I sidle by.”
“Who says I want you holding me in any position?” Roxas replied boldly, and Axel interpreted the blush for what it was.
“... Why wouldn't you?”
The flush darkened when he was called on his own implication and Roxas stammered, alcohol slowing the speed of his comeback. Axel drew his hand away, but made special effort to slide it down his arm in the process.
“Name's Axel.” He leaned in a little – partially to keep out of the way of hooting, wild party-goers. Mostly out of interest.
Roxas stiffened slightly, and spoke after a moment of cautious assessment. “... Roxas.”
“Well, Roxas, I'm devastated about intruding on your personal space. I feel like a monster.” Axel lifted the beers. “Should I make it up to you?”
“... You're seriously offering me your beer?” he asked suspiciously.
“Yeah, one was for my friend but I ditched him. I technically have one extra.”
Mistrust told Roxas that that sounded like a planned line, but he supposed the stranger – Axel – couldn't have done much with a sealed can. He put down his emptied glass. “Sure.”
Pivoting around to lean against the wall beside him, Axel gave Roxas another quick scan and pulled out the last two beers. The cardboard case was dropped carelessly, kicked aside. Roxas had an inexplicable urge to cover himself, and a dormant urge to look Axel over the same way, see how he liked it.
“Am I forgiven?”
“I guess. This time.” Roxas cracked open his beer in unison with Axel, surveying it. He took a swig, and almost spat it right back out. “That's disgusting,” he rasped, after he'd made himself swallow.
“That, my friend, is the strongest beer you can get for cheap,” Axel informed him, and took a swig of his own. “It is the foulest substance known to man.”
“Ugh. Never taking gifts from you again.”
Axel started to laugh. Roxas held the beer can back out towards him, declaring, “I'm not finishing that.”
“Fair enough. You hang onto it though, I'm busy with my own.”
“I'm not a cup holder,” Roxas raised an eyebrow.
“How about cup bearer?”
“For your shitty beer?”
“Unless you have wine on-hand,” Axel smirked, taking another drink. “... So...”
Roxas had relented to hold it, but had no idea how to make conversation. “So?”
“What grade are you in?”
Avoiding his eyes, Roxas answered, “Ninth," or he would be, come September, "Why?”
“Huh,” Axel pondered that. “Cute, for a freshman.”
That did not garner a positive reaction. Roxas's eyes narrowed. “How 'bout I show you how cute the bottom of my shoe is?”
“Kinky,” Axel commented, almost a purr, but Roxas was unimpressed.
“I'm walking away now.”
“Whatever,” Axel shrugged. Shame; he thought he'd read the signs right, but it wasn't the first time he'd hit on a straight boy, and it wouldn't be the last. He took his beer back. “Later, blondie.”
Blush igniting his face, Roxas whirled away with his back stiff. Axel was a jerk, that was all.
And they definitely hadn't been flirting.
Here was the other thing.
Marluxia's parents were wealthy people, and considerably more charitable than their spoiled and sadistic son. An opportunity had arisen to foster a young girl, an orphan in her early teens, and they'd taken her into their home. She'd made a friend in her first year of middle school, and that friendship carried over upon their entry into Hollow Bastion High.
Roxas had visited Namine at her home several times, and his interest in photography had him accordingly impressed with the veritable manor in which she lived. It was on the outskirts of the suburbs, conducive to the growing of an immense flower garden, and nature photography was a subject he hadn't yet pursued. She'd given a standing invitation to take some pictures, even if she wasn’t home, but he hadn't felt comfortable enough to do it until recently.
Knowing Namine would be busy with art club until the evening, Roxas had skated straight here from school. As he slipped through the enormous gates, Roxas surveyed the sprawling, floral acreage. He almost didn't know where to start, but where he started wound up being a lot less significant than where he ended up.
The gazebo was secluded, not so easily seen through hedge arrangements and artistic bushes of color. With one possessive hand on the back of Axel's neck, Marluxia had led him right to it.
They wouldn't go inside. His parents were home, and he didn't want them overheard. Even out here, they’d have to be quiet - the property wasn’t so big that all their neighbors were out of earshot. Axel still maintained the pretense that he hadn't come over for sex, but they both knew that wasn't true.
“Why, Marluxia, what a romantic set-up.”
“I know how tenderly you like to be treated.”
Axel was pressed up against a wooden beam, his hands tangling in Marluxia's hair, just to piss him off by mussing it. “I'm swooning.”
Eyes narrow, Marluxia kissed him with enough force to knock his head against the post. With a wince, Axel kissed back just as violently, both determined to draw first blood. He bit at the same time he started working Marluxia's jeans open, was caressed roughly before the kiss was broken to have his throat viciously marked.
Oblivious, Roxas followed the progress of a bumblebee perched on one of the morning glory blossoms, snapping shot after shot. It hadn't taken long to lose interest in just using the flowers as subjects – now he sought insects or the like, switching the lens of his camera.
“What, pain no good when it's yours?” Axel murmured in response to a snarl, hand wrapping around Marluxia's cock.
“I much prefer to see it than feel it,” he breathed, pushing into Axel's hand and sliding hands up his shirt. At the urging, Axel worked his hand over him fast, the contact rough without the slide of proper lubrication – he'd substituted saliva, and it was only barely adequate.
“You just can't take what you dish out.”
Marluxia groaned softly. “We can't all have such broad tastes...”
Wandering towards the rose bushes, Roxas found a large and interesting spider expertly navigating the thorns, his shutter working so fast it barely made a sound. Following its advance along the flowers and up the climbing vines, he wasn't aware of being brought towards the gazebo. Eight legs crept from the stems to white-washed wood, perching on a horizontal rail long enough for Roxas to get a few really good, clear-
There was a strange flurry of color in the corner of his shot. Roxas took his camera away from his face, bemused, getting a proper look.
He saw Axel, turning the tides and forcing Marluxia against the post instead, hand pumping unmistakably and mouthing up his throat. Marluxia was digging his nails into Axel's hips, his ass, wrestling him closer.
“Shit-!”
At the loud hiss, Axel broke away with a startled laugh, seeking the source of the noise. Roxas had backed away so fast that he'd tripped and sprawled on the grass. He knew one had to be Marluixa, but hadn't identified the other, yet; the look he got was too brief. Marluxia tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “What do we have here? A spy?”
“You didn't mention you had voyeurs on your property.” Axel drew back a bit, but his hand was still on Marluxia's cock. His hard-on hadn't flagged at all.
“Wh-what the hell are you doing?!” Roxas, bright red, filtered his mortification as anger. “Get a fucking room, god -!”
“Oh,” Marluxia sneered, leaning into the rail. “It's Namine's little friend.”
Axel pulled away at last (Marluxia hissed in displeasure), starting to grin in stunned hilarity. “Wait. I know you.”
It took Roxas a second to take Axel in, realize he did know him, and what that meant. “... U-uh...”
“You sure you're not spying on purpose?” Axel's eyes flickered down. “With a camera. Wow.”
“I was – the flowers – there was a spider,” Roxas fumbled over his explanation. Sighing in distaste, Marluxia zipped his jeans and adjusted for his discomfort.
“I'm not buying it,” Axel glanced at Marluxia. “You buying it?”
“Oh, ignore him. He's always here taking pictures of something.”
Furiously red, Roxas scrambled back up to power-walk to where he’d dropped his skateboard. He needed to see Namine, and ask if she had some manner of magic ability to make him forget everything he just saw.
“Just don't put anything on the Internet,” Axel called after him. “We're still minors.”
Roxas felt hot up to his ears, and took up an even brisker pace.
He had a definite, solid opinion of Axel. He just counted himself lucky that he probably wouldn't have to see him much, if ever, again.
Still holding hands, Aerith gave Zack's a gentle squeeze and returned his encouraging smile. Difficult though it may be, she hoped the boys would keep to their word. In some sense, they were to be a family. That much was already clear to Ven, too, and he was glad to see the both of them looking happy, even if Axel and Roxas weren't.
And they most definitely weren't. Roxas was still being appraised with narrow eyes, Axel was still being fiercely ignored, and the only certainty they shared was that they would never get along.