Kingdom Hearts Fan Fiction ❯ Moped Romance ❯ Track 3: If You Seek Amy ( Chapter 3 )

Title:   Moped Romance [3/12]
Pairing:  Axel/Roxas, background Riku/Sora

Warnings: Boys speaking Italian, language, Roxas being a whore, highly embarrassing moments, high-speed races through Roman traffic, Larxene.
Rating:  R. [this chapter, NC-17]
Beta:  the BetaMistress alovelysilence
A/N:  Inspired by experiences had by a good friend of mine while we were studying abroad in Rome, Italy, in the spring.
Disclaimer:  I don't own Kingdom Hearts, but I do get a kick out of writing for the fandom. I also do not own any of the songs mentioned; they belong to their respective artists and labels. In this chapter, Britney Spears and Jimmy James (“Fashionista”).

Summary: Lost on the back alleys of Rome one night, Axel finds a savior in a young blond on a moped. A love story with subtitles.

In this chapter: Qube, and an offer Axel can't refuse.

 

Cultural notes:

Testaccio - area in Southern Rome, home to one of the cat sanctuaries and the Protestant cemetery

Termini - main bus/taxi/train/metro hub in the center of Rome

Another note: one can actually procure Cheez-its in Rome if you know where to look. Castroni, a truly multicultural grocery near the Vatican, sells them along with other goodies like peanut butter, Jiffy mix, taco shells, and syrup. Qube is also a real club, and you really don't want to go drunk.

 

Track 3 - If You Seek Amy

 

Oh baby baby have you seen Amy tonight?

Is she in the bathroom is she smoking up outside, oh

Oh baby baby does she take a piece of lime

For the drink that I'mma buy her

Do you know just what she likes?

 

Qube, Axel discovered upon Googling it on the school's lab computers, was a) one of the most infamous gay clubs in the Eternal City, b) located in Testaccio, not far from the Pyramide metro stop, and c) not a club one went to drunk; it clearly had a reputation all its own. Demyx and Zexion agreed to tag along to decrease the chances of Axel getting himself killed, and carefully planned out the route once they had the location. They had to catch the red line into Termini, then switch over to the blue line until Pyramide. From there they'd have to catch a taxi to the club.

 

Axel had been texting back and forth with Roxas and had confirmed that the blond would be there later on tonight; he'd already spent several hours getting ready for the night. He'd showered, shaved, and after letting his hair dry out had liberally applied the wax that kept his hair looking its usual spiky self, like a fireburst out of the back of his head.

 

When Xaldin started pounding on the bathroom door Axel skedaddled back to his room and started scavenging for clothes. Xigbar, bastard that he was, was sitting on his bed munching on a box of imported Cheez-its as he watched the scene. Axel ignored him and pulled on black boxer briefs and a pair of dark, slim-fitting jeans; he found his bright green shoes under his bed and went to find a shirt. After going through a few drawers he found what he was looking for: a black short-sleeve v-neck that hugged his torso. Axel pulled it on and examined himself in the mirror. Satisfied, he gave a short nod at his reflection.

 

Demyx burst around the corner and whistled. “Damn, looking good,” he said, grinning and coming up behind Axel to look in the mirror too.

 

“I think so,” Axel grinned crookedly.

 

Demyx looked at him appraisingly. “I'd fuck you.”

 

“You're looking pretty hot yourself,” Axel leered, noticing his very tight jeans, purple shirt and pinstripe vest. “Who are you dressing up for?”

 

Demyx flushed slightly and shoved him over to get a look at himself in the mirror. Axel chuckled and grabbed everything he'd need for the night: cell phone, ID, metro pass, keys, Euros, condoms, lube; Axel felt a thrill of anticipation go through him as he went through his mental list.

 

“Ready?” Demyx called.

 

Axel checked his pockets once again. “Yup.”

 

Xigbar made a cat-like sound as they went towards the door. “Go get `em, stud,” he chuckled.

 

Axel rolled his eyes and snapped, “Fuck you.”

 

“Be a good boy, now.”

 

Demyx pulled Axel out of the room before anything else happened, and they met Zexion at the door. The metro ride wasn't that bad; they managed to get to Pyramide without a problem. Pyramide itself, however, looked kind of seedy now that it was dark. There were groups of Italian teenagers in small groups all over the place, some yelling or making comments at the passersby.

 

Zexion pointed out the taxi lot not too far away, and jogged over to knock on the passenger-side window. The driver accepted them and unlocked the doors. “Dov'è?” he grunted once all three of them were settled in the cab.

 

“Qube,” Axel answered.

 

Zexion turned to give the driver a more detailed address, but the driver put his hand up to silence him. “I have been cab driver for twenty years, I know the disco,” he said proudly, his English heavily accented but luckily understandable. The driver pulled out of the taxi lot and started driving; Axel couldn't keep track of the turns they were making or where they were anymore.

 

“Is a big party tonight, you know, yes?” the cab driver spoke up. “The line will be long.”

 

“Oh,” Axel's brow furrowed. “Really?”

 

“Yes, big party. They will eat you alive,” the driver leered into the rearview mirror, and Axel fought down the urge to retch. Demyx looked fearful, but Axel put up his hands innocently. He had no idea what this would bring.

 

A few minutes later Axel looked ahead and found he could make out the neon lights and bright beams emanating from a large warehouse; large numbers of people had already gathered outside, under a giant neon 3-D cube. Axel swore he could see clumps of glitter forming on the windshield, and could hear the bass pumping from a block away.

 

“Here it is,” the driver announced. “Qube.”

 

Zexion paid the driver and exited promptly, only to be bombarded by shrieks and yells, as well as the music filtering out from the club.

 

Love me, hate me, say what you want about me

But all of the boys and all of the girls are begging to if you seek Amy

Love me, hate me, but can't you see what I see

All of the boys and all of the girls are begging to if you seek Amy

Love me, hate me, la la la

 

It should be said that Axel thought Britney Spears was kind of overrated and annoying. Especially that loud . . . it was criminal, really. It was bad enough having Lady GaGa stuck in his head when he was drunk and didn't really care, but this could almost count as torture. Even if the beat was starting to sink into his brain.

 

Half an hour after Axel, Zexion and Demyx pushed their way into the line leading into the club, they discovered there was not only one but two lines, and the one they'd found themselves in was reserved only for those on The List. One incredibly bitchy bouncer later, they were all the way at the back of the other, less exclusive line. People kept crushing forward to try and maneuver their way closer to the front, and Axel was sure if he leaned back ever so slightly his head would get caught in the bosom of a drag queen directly behind him. The line went horribly slow; it took them almost forty-five minutes to get in from there. Axel was ecstatic when the bouncer finally stamped their wrists and let them in.

 

Qube, he decided about five minutes later, was definitely not a club one went to drunk. Not because the intense strobe lights would give you a headache, or the cost of drinks would have you forking out more cash than you were comfortable with, but because the men you encountered first in the club were more aggressive and immediately would try to pull you off and up to the upper blacklit floors. Unless that was what you were looking for. Axel himself was felt up by no less than three strangers in that five minutes, and felt vaguely violated.

 

The air was a heady mix of sweat, sex, and the artificial scent of the fog machine. The stage and screen walls were lined with go-go dancers, some in cages, and behind screens Axel could make out more private rooms where groups where drinking, preparing for the dance floor again. There was a balcony overlooking the crowd; couples up there were more absorbed in making out than dancing. Axel grinned as he saw one man being fucked over the railing by his partner.

 

“We're going to go get a drink,” Demyx yelled over the thumping bass as he and Zexion walked away. “See you around!”

 

Axel nodded at them and wormed his way into the crowd, looking for Roxas. He found him a few minutes later as he worked his way closer to the stage, where the crowd was denser; Axel caught a flash of his blonde hair in the strobe, and followed it to him. Roxas was dancing away in skintight leather pants that laced up in the front, lace-up boots and a blue tank top . . . with someone else, if the hands on his stomach and the curve of his hip were anything to judge by. Roxas had his head turned towards the other person, and Axel was glad to see a wary look on Roxas' face. And that his hands were firmly grasping the other man's wrists to keep them from moving any farther. The hand on his stomach moved to thread through his hair; in one quick movement the other man tugged Roxas' head to the side to lick his jaw and his other hand cupped his crotch.

 

Axel felt a surge of rage, and saw the same emotion echoed on Roxas' face. He elbowed the other man in the stomach fiercely, and continued dancing as he skulked away. Axel made his way through the crowd to him.

 

“Sei qui!” Roxas' face lit up as Axel moved closer to him. You're here! The once-over the blonde gave him didn't go unnoticed; Axel nodded, grinning back and returning the look. “Vieni, balla con me!” Roxas grabbed his hand and pulled him in. Come on, dance with me! Britney Spears faded into a remix, something Latin with a pulsing beat and Roxas threw his arms over the redhead's shoulders while Axel's hands came to rest on his hips as they moved in time with the song.

 

Axel tugged playfully on the belt loops on the blonde's leather pants, looking down at how they hugged every curve of Roxas' legs and his groin, leaving very little to the imagination. “Gli piace,” he whispered in Roxas' ear, hoping for a suave and sexy I like these without openly saying but I can't wait to see them come off.

 

“Hmm,” Roxas responded thoughtfully. Giving Axel yet another wicked smirk he captured Axel's wrists and moved his hands down to cup his leather-clad ass. “Lo so.” I know. Axel squeezed, and Roxas' body jolted under his hands.

 

Pulling him closer, Axel leaned down and kissed Roxas, slipping his tongue into his mouth. The blonde responded enthusiastically, threading his fingers into the hair at the nape of Axel's neck.

 

After a few songs Roxas moved to dance back to front with Axel, and set his hands to rest on his hips. Bodies crushed them together, and Axel felt Roxas take advantage of the situation and grind back against him. His cock stirred in interest at their proximity and surroundings, and he nibbled on Roxas' ear while the blonde reached up, sighing, to tangle his fingers in Axel's hair. His hand covered Axel's on his hip, and a contented sound escaped his lips to reach Axel's ear.

 

As they danced Axel caught glances of people around them staring, some with open lust and lascivious grins, including the man Roxas had knocked out of the way before Axel had arrived. He felt a swell of pride that while others probably wanted him to, Roxas wasn't showing any signs of leaving him to dance with someone else. Axel caught a glance from Demyx too, who was giving him a bright thumbs-up as he danced with Zexion. He chuckled and bent his head to kiss and nip at the expanse of skin where Roxas' neck met his shoulder.

 

“I know,” Roxas whispered hotly in Axel's ear, “so che vuoi.” I know . . . what you want. He led Axel's hand down to where his leather pants laced up; somehow they were already untied, and Axel's hand met the flesh of the blonde's cock. At the first touch of his fingers Roxas arched in his grasp, and moaned as his fingers wrapped around his burgeoning erection. Axel reached down to cup his balls through the leather with his other hand, silently crowing as Roxas shook with pleasure.

 

After a quick glance around Axel, still entangled with the blond, pushed his way over to one of the thick pillars on the edge of the dance floor. He turned Roxas around and pressed him back against the pillar hard, his hand down the blonde's pants and Roxas' unadulterated moans in his ear as he ground against him.

 

“You want to fuck me?” Roxas purred, nipping the lobe of his ear before licking the shell hotly.

 

“Yes,” Axel responded shakily.

 

All of a sudden Roxas slapped his hands away; as Axel reluctantly removed them from his pants Roxas grabbed his wrist and pulled him in the direction of the stairs. People eyed them appreciatively as they passed, probably because Roxas' pants were still untied and because they knew exactly where they were headed. Roxas led him through a darkened room, picked up a key somewhere, and pulled him into another room before locking it behind him. Axel was on his knees in front of him, jerking the leather pants down before he left the door; Roxas leaned back against it, allowing Axel to continue. The blonde's cock sprang out as it was released, hard and red and dripping; Axel licked his lips and descended, taking him in completely. Roxas moaned brokenly, grasping Axel's hair to hold him there.

 

The flesh of his cock was burning hot against Axel's tongue, and he pulled back to suck on the head while rolling Roxas' balls in one hand. His hips jerked under the sensations of Axel's mouth, so Axel grabbed hold of his hips to keep him steady. Roxas' moans and curses filled the room, and his grip tightened in Axel's hair. Taking him in to the root, Axel reached around his hips and found Roxas' puckered entrance, pressing just inside to hear him moan again. He couldn't help the way his hips bucked, and to keep from choking on his cock Axel pushed him back against the wall with a firm palm to his solar plexus. Roxas groaned loudly as it held him in place, and Axel looked up to meet burning, over-bright eyes. The hand in his hair pulled his head back, off of Roxas' cock; without losing eye contact Axel licked at the head, teasing the slit and drawing a bit of precome from it.

 

The look in Roxas' eyes turned predatory, and he dragged Axel back up to his feet to kiss him fiercely. Axel maneuvered them away from the wall and ended up pushing Roxas back onto the bed right behind them. He stared down at the blonde, panting and harder than he'd ever been, for about two seconds before he tore off his shirt and pounced.

 

Roxas' tank top was gone almost instantly, but the boots and tight-fitting leather took a little longer to peel off. Once they were finally gone and Axel's belt and pants were undone, he patted his pockets looking for something. He found the bottle of lube he carried with him, but the condoms were gone.

 

“Fuck,” he cursed.

 

“Yes,” Roxas purred.

 

“No, my condoms are gone. We need them -“ Axel looked down at his partner, who . . . had a foil-wrapped condom between his teeth. He recognized the brand, too. “You stole them.”

 

Roxas rose, his back arching like a cat's, and brought himself face to face with Axel. He gave the condom to Axel, who took it with his teeth, and trailed a finger down his long and lean body. “I wanted you with me,” he whispered seductively, “no one else tonight.”

 

“You didn't want me fucking anyone else,” Axel said, smirking.

 

“Just me.”

 

“I don't think that'll be a problem,” Axel growled and nearly tore his pants off. By the time he'd thrown his jeans and shoes to the other side of the room Roxas had already made himself comfortable on the bed, his knees bent and spread with two fingers already stretching his entrance.

 

If there was any blood left in other parts of his body, it all rushed to his cock. He slipped the condom on - Roxas watching him the whole time - and slicked himself with the lube before he very nearly leapt onto the bed over his partner. They wrestled a bit, trying to find the right positioning, before Axel pushed Roxas onto his back and repositioned his legs so they were over his shoulders, with the lower half of Roxas' body resting on Axel's thighs as he knelt. Roxas moved up, and Axel shifted, aligning his cock with his entrance.

 

“Va',” Roxas muttered, rolling his hips in minute circles.

 

Axel tilted his hips forward, pushing the head of his cock past the ring of muscle and -

 

Oh God.

 

Roxas hissed and moved his hips forward to meet the thrust, and Axel leaned forward, pressing deeper until Roxas' body was bent almost in half. He had to fight to keep from coming, the body wrapped around him was so tight, and burning with an intensity that probably rivaled a few suns.

 

“Fuck,” Axel said breathlessly.

 

“Yes,” Roxas rasped, arching his back clear off the bed and twisting his hands violently in the sheets.

 

The friction pulling out damn near killed him, but the next was worth it, bringing him deeper as Roxas clenched around him. He was even meeting Axel's thrusts, considering his awkward position, tilting his hips as Axel drove into him. The bed rocked with the force of Axel's thrusts, with the bed frame hitting the wall with a dull thud every time. Roxas was making the most obscene noises, shouting things Axel didn't really understand but took as encouragement to go faster, deeper, harder. Everything lost meaning, save for the hot body surrounding his cock, the even hotter man beneath him, and the fiery coil in the pit of his stomach that threatened to spring as he fucked Roxas into the mattress. He felt himself losing control, and it looked as though Roxas was going through the same thing; his breath was coming in gasps and his eyes had glazed over as he stroked himself and Axel drove them close and closer to completion. Fingers raked desperately down his back, and Axel knew immediately they'd leave marks.

 

Roxas came first, every muscle in his body tensing and clenching around Axel as hot, pearly come painted his and Axel's stomachs. Axel continued to thrust, fucking him down and through the orgasm while holding back his own. Once Roxas slumped back on the bed bonelessly Axel pulled out gently, gingerly moving to sit on the edge of the bed. He pulled the condom off and tossed it in the trash, and was about to bring himself to his own orgasm when he felt arms reaching around his shoulders. Roxas' hand was on his cock before he even knew it, stroking it and thumbing over the head teasingly while he sucked and nipped at a spot on Axel's neck. Under Roxas' expert fingers he came soon after, come coating Roxas' hand, and dropped back on the bed just as bonelessly. Roxas followed, still sucking and kissing his neck. Axel knew it would be a very blatant hickey in the morning.

 

“How come you get t'leave all the marks?” Axel asked him blearily.

 

“What are the words? Bite me,” Roxas said, his voice slightly muffled against Axel's neck. He nipped him again.

 

“Any time,” Axel murmured.

 

“We have to get up,” Roxas nudged him.

 

“Why?” Axel seemed offended by the mere thought.

 

“More will want to use the room.”

 

“Screw them. Stay with me,” Axel said, gathering him with his arm.

 

“Vieni con me,” Roxas countered, laying kisses around his mouth. Come with me.

 

“Dov'è?” Axel asked gamely. Where?

 

“Mia casa,” the blonde answered, kissing him. My house.

 

“Ah. Well, then. Let's go.”

 

They made use of the sink in the corner, and washed the remnants of their orgasms off before getting dressed again and walking back down to the main floor. As they descended the stairs he was met by a few jealous looks, and Axel couldn't help but draw himself up and allow a little bit of a swagger, since he was the one fucking the blonde and going home with him tonight.

 

The thought itself almost got the blood congregating in his cock again.

 

Roxas left briefly to pay for his tab, and Axel was accosted by Demyx and Zexion in his absence. Demyx was wearing a self-satisfied smirk that immediately put Axel on edge; he reached out and pulled the neckline of Axel's shirt aside. “Ah-ha! Ten Euro,” Demyx crowed, turning to Zexion, who reluctantly handed over the bill.

 

“What?” Axel demanded, trying to see what Demyx was looking at.

 

“It's a giant hickey,” Demyx explained for him. “I think we heard you,” he glanced up at the ceiling.

 

“I thought it was simply the bass,” Zexion deadpanned. Demyx sniggered.

 

“Shut up. I'm leaving.”

 

“You are? Do the buses even run this late?” Demyx looked at his watch.

 

“I'm not taking the bus.”

 

“But you can't! Remember what happened - or, I guess you don't,” Demyx bit his lip nervously. “You'll get lost!”

 

“No I won't,” Axel grinned widely.

 

The wheels turned in Demyx's head, and light dawned. “He's taking you home! Nice,” he nodded appreciatively. “Score.”

 

“Do you have enough condoms?” Zexion arched an eyebrow at him.

 

“He stole them, but I think we're all set thanks,” Axel shook his head. “Look, I'll see you guys tomorrow. Maybe. We'll see. I'll call you,” he pointed to Demyx as he started walking away from them.

 

“You better. I want details!”

 

“Fucking girl,” Axel yelled back at him.

 

“Pedo!” Demyx yelled back.

 

Axel shook his head and made his way to the bar as an upbeat Latin dance song started playing. Roxas met him halfway, his hips swaying in time with the beat in a way that vaguely reminded him of belly dancers. Hooded, predatorial eyes captured his and with a knowing smile Roxas pulled him towards the side room by the front of his jeans. They stopped to pick up their jackets, then made their way towards the front door. He nodded to the bouncer, who snorted as Axel was pulled past him.

 

Roxas' moped was towards the back of the building, but it didn't seem far at all when Axel was only paying attention to the sway of the blonde's hips, the slightest of limps, and the perfect way the leather hugged his ass. He got his helmet out of the back of the moped and unlocked the chain before mounting the bike and beckoning to Axel. A thrill shot through Axel; he climbed on the back of the moped and pressed his body tightly against Roxas' back, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist. Roxas revved the engine and they took off.

 

At three in the morning red lights meant nothing. Cars and other bikes were few and far between, leaving Roxas and Axel free reign of the road for the most part. Axel teasingly traced idle patterns over Roxas' leather-clothed crotch before they started going backroads; he stopped before he caused them to get into an accident.

 

Twenty minutes later Roxas slowed to a stop outside a set of large doors; he pulled out an obscenely complicated-looking key and opened up the door, driving them inside. A short tunnel opened up into a small courtyard, where he parked the moped. Axel dismounted and followed Roxas up several flights of stairs; Roxas hadn't said a word since they left the club, and Axel hoped he wasn't having second thoughts.

 

“Tutti ok?” Axel asked tentatively.

 

Roxas stopped and leaned against an unassuming door, gazing at him blithely. He simply smiled and opened the door, beckoning Axel inside. Axel followed him curiously.

 

“Mia casa,” Roxas introduced the tiny apartment. It opened up into a kitchen and eating area, multicolored and mix-matched dinnerware all over the place. It looked pretty cozy, Axel decided, taking in the rest of the area. The kitchen had several doors off of it; each one was decorated with stickers or posters and names. Axel could see the doors from left to right said `Hayner,' accompanied with a poster of a snowboarder; `Pence,' who had numerous photographs; and `Olette,' which was underscored by several pictures of a female singer Axel had seen on billboards around Rome. Then there was what Axel assumed to be the bath (there was a poster of a cat sitting on a toilet with a supposedly snarky saying underneath), and on the far right was `Rox,' and a sign saying `No one ugly allowed.' Axel smirked; of course Roxas would know that song.

 

Roxas closed the door behind him and locked it, then led the way over to his room, motioning briefly to be quiet considering his flat mates.

 

It was dark inside, but after a few seconds of Roxas shuffling around a lamp buzzed to life, the light flickering and casting shadows all around the room. Axel glanced around; it was pretty small, and most of the floor space was taken up by a mattress though he also had two bookcases, a dresser, and a desk. There was a decent-sized poster shrine to Madonna and Britney Spears, along with posters from clubs and concerts he'd been to. A tattered Obama election poster was pinned up near his desk; Axel wondered what street corner he'd stripped it from.

 

The sound of a throat clearing brought Axel's attention back to Roxas instantly; he couldn't help the leer that spread across his face.

 

Roxas was leaning against the wall next to the door, peeling his snug leather motorcycle jacket off. “Sei stanco?” Roxas asked, raising an eyebrow and allowing a quirk in his mouth. Are you tired? Axel shook his head and closed in, trapping Roxas up against the wall. “That's it,” he grinned, wrapping his arms around Axel's neck.

 

Axel leaned in close and kissed him, running his tongue over Roxas' bottom lip and into the hot cavern of his mouth. Roxas tilted his head and slipped his tongue alongside Axel's, tangling his fingers in his long red hair. His body arched against Axel's as the redhead pressed his back to the wall and slipped a thigh between his legs; Roxas moaned into his mouth and Axel shuddered with delight.

 

Roxas pushed them away from the wall and began walking backward towards the mattress. Once his heels met the edge of the mattress he sidestepped and sent Axel sprawling on the thick comforter. Surprised by the turn of events, Axel glanced down to the end of the bed, grinning as Roxas began crawling up his body. He cupped Roxas' cheek as he got closer, and Roxas slipped his hands under Axel's shirt and up his torso, dragging his nails as he went. The redhead shivered as he felt goose bumps spring up in their path

 

“Roxas,” he whispered huskily.

 

Roxas pushed up Axel's shirt and starting kissing and licking a trail up his body; Axel's breath hitched under the onslaught. He pulled the shirt over his head, and Roxas set about exploring the expanse of his chest.

 

“Do you want to . . . ?” Axel asked breathlessly.

 

Roxas looked up, tugging at Axel's nipples with his teeth and fingers.

 

“I don't wanna hurt you if you're sore,” Axel continued.

 

“Non e' una problemma,” Roxas shook his head - It's not a problem - and released Axel's nipple from his oral assault. “No moving,” he ordered with a nip to his chest.

 

“Ok,” Axel acquiesced. He settled with watching as Roxas undressed completely and settled over him, removing Axel's shoes and pants and nipping the newly revealed flesh. Axel grabbed whatever sheets and bedclothes he could when Roxas' hot mouth suddenly engulfed his cock to the root and swallowed around the head; he was about to beg for release when he felt the condom being slipped to the base, and watched as Roxas lined his cock up with his entrance and took him in.

 

Watching Roxas fuck himself on his cock was an entirely different animal, Axel decided. He could do as he pleased, and in Axel's humble opinion it was even hotter than when he danced; his head and eyes rolled back in pleasure as he pushed himself up and down on his knees. Axel met his thrusts, at first holding onto his hips to hold him steady, then his hands roamed up to tease his nipples and earn a series of erotic sounds for his efforts. A previously unnoticed glint of gold around the blonde's neck caught Axel's attention only briefly before a long, low moan brought him back to the present reality of Roxas and the hungry way he peered down at Axel, blue eyes dark and gleaming. He bent his knees and Roxas leaned back against them as he rode him furiously; Axel wrapped his hand around Roxas' cock and began stroking.

 

Roxas' downward thrusts became increasingly erratic, clenching around Axel's cock in such a way that he knew would draw his orgasm from him. “Rox,” he muttered; he could feel his own body preparing for climax. “I'm gonna -“

 

Roxas grabbed his wrists and slammed them down on either side of his head, staring him down, sweaty and panting. “I know,” he said, deadly serious, rolling his hips in circles. “Dammelo.”

 

Give it to me.

 

The guttural moans of their combined climaxes filled the small apartment a moment later, and Roxas' completely satisfied smirk melted Axel's previous apprehension. The blonde moved away from him once he stopped shaking, and once Axel's softening cock slipped from his body Roxas collapsed half on the bed, half sprawled over Axel. He was looking up at him with an expression he couldn't yet identify.

 

After a moment Roxas said quietly, “Tuoi occhi,” your eyes, “they . . . they glow, I think.”

 

“Really? It could just be the light.”

 

Roxas shrugged and shook his head. “Non e' importante.” It's not important.

 

Axel turned on his side to face Roxas and wrapped an arm around his back, just simply looking at him and cataloging every freckle, every smooth plane of wiry muscle. Fully aware and no longer deliciously distracted, Axel once again discovered the thin gold chain draped around the blonde's neck and the charms dangling from it: a small gold chili pepper, a cross inlaid with silver, and a silver band set with a bright blue stone. And beneath that . . . Axel's eyes found a long white scar down the center of Roxas' chest the length of his sternum; Axel frowned. He hadn't noticed it before. “Cos'è successo?” he asked gently, trailing a finger along the scar. What happened?

 

Roxas physically shrunk away from his touch.

 

“Shit,” Axel swore. “Fuck, I'm sorry Roxas. Mi dispiace.”

 

Roxas eyed him warily, turning over onto his chest and stomach to hide the scar from view. Then he buried his face in the pillow.

 

“Vuoi mi partire?” Axel asked uncertainly. Do you want me to leave?

 

Roxas didn't answer, and Axel took that as an affirmative. He reluctantly rolled out of the bed and searched for his jeans.

 

“My heart,” Roxas' voice filtered out from the pillow quietly, “was bad. It is better now.”

The blond looked like he was going to say something else, but he stopped himself before the words left his mouth.

 

“It's ok, we'll talk about something else. Posso stare?” Can I stay?

 

Roxas nodded and pushed over again. Axel took his place beside him on the bed. “You know, we . . . we really don't know anything about each other.”

 

“We don't,” Roxas agreed.

 

“Not anymore. Ok, mi chiamo Axel Sinclaire, ho venti anni. Non parlo Italiano molto bene, ma cerco.” My name is Axel Sinclaire, I'm twenty years old. I don't speak Italian very well, but I try.

 

Roxas smirked. “Di dove' sei?” Where are you from?

 

“Sono di Chicago. In vicino, anyways. E tu?” I'm from Chicago. Or around it . . . you?

 

Roxas shifted, cocking his head. “Mi chiamo Roxas Pietrino, e sono di Genova.”

 

“Really? Non sei di Roma?”

 

The blonde shook his head. “Mia famigia e' Genovese. Ho transferato qui due anni fa.” My family is from Genoa. I moved here two years ago.

 

“Quanti anni hai?” How old are you?

 

“Diciasei anni.” Sixteen.

 

“Wow,” Axel said more to himself. At Roxas' questioning look, Axel continued. “That's kind of young. And it doesn't bother you that I'm four years older?”

 

Roxas stared at him hard, translating in his head. Then he shrugged. “Non troppo male.”

 

“What do you mean, it's not that bad?”

 

Roxas shrugged at him, the lack of concern for the question painted on his face.

 

“Ok,” Axel said, raising an eyebrow at him, earning him another shrug. He decided not to press the issue, but was still curious.

 

“Your Italian is very good, actually,” Roxas commented with a smile, changing the subject. “I understand it well.”

 

“Your English is really good too.”

 

“Practice.”

 

“No amount of practice will make my Italian better,” Axel grinned.

 

“You think too hard, maybe,” Roxas commented. “Easier if you don't.”

 

“Well then I'll never say anything right.”

 

“Then I will say what you mean,” the blonde snickered, “so they don't laugh.”

 

“I hope you're around to translate for me,” Axel said. “I'd like you to stick around.”

 

Roxas cocked his head at him, contemplating before grinning. “Ci vediamo.” We'll see. Then he snuggled into the pillow again. “Dorma.” Sleep.

 

Axel nodded and settled into the bed, falling asleep as exhaustion crept up on him.

 

* * *

 

The dream was one of the more erotic ones Axel had ever had, which was saying something.

 

The dream were a series of situations and positions, all including Roxas; getting the chance to fuck him uninterrupted in that elevator, fucking him on the dance floor at Cube, sucking Roxas off on Cube's stage for everyone to see, then turning on his hands and knees so Roxas could fuck him. Subconsciously he could feel the heat pooling in his gut, and he shivered as the possibilities presented themselves.

 

Axel really would not have said no to having that dream all the time. With a side of lube, thanks.

 

Roxas was licking and playing with his nipples as they thrust their erections together; it was such a tantalizing image it felt real, and he could feel the blonde's hot mouth around the raised flesh. Axel arched into the touch, earning him a sharp pinch to the other nipple. It was only when he felt the sharp teeth around the bud that he finally woke up, hot and startled and aroused.

 

Roxas paused in his sucking, gave him an impish look, and blew on the wet area. Axel shivered again. “Morning,” he said shakily, shifting to try and relieve the pain of the erection trapped in his pants.

 

“Doccia,” Roxas said - shower, moving away from him slowly and pressing a hand over the bulge in his jeans. Then he hopped off the bed, still stark naked and picked up a towel, wrapping it around his hips before walking out the door. Axel furrowed his brow and stared at the retreating back, looking at the spot on his shoulder covered in black lines. How had he not seen that Roxas had a tattoo before?

 

Axel supposed that Roxas meant for him to follow, so he rolled stiffly out of bed and shucked his jeans off, willing his erection down. But the whole idea of Roxas being wet, naked, and entirely willing on the other side of the door was really counterproductive as he mentally cajoled his cock. In a mental “fuck you,” his brain conjured an image of Roxas leaning against the shower wall as the water cascaded over him, panting and fisting his own cock.

 

Well, that was settled.

 

Axel picked up another towel and followed suit, creeping out into the main living area and into the bathroom. He pushed open the door and got an eyeful of a tantalizingly wet Roxas; the bathroom was really just a toilet with a tiny sink and a shower head stuck in the wall at an awkward angle. Roxas was scrubbing his hair with shampoo with his back to him, and as he walked closer he got a better look at the tattoo: is was a highly stylized key, the business end decorated with spikes on a half-circle, shaded on the edges with black and red. Eyes still studying the tattoo, Axel stepped under the lukewarm spray.

 

“Cold water in three minutes,” Roxas said, washing the shampoo out now.

 

Axel washed his hair quickly, racing to get the shampoo out of his hair as he felt the water turn icy. A towel landed on him as he turned off the showerhead, shivering. “Grazie,” Axel said through chattering teeth, his erection completely wilted thanks to the freezing water.

 

“Prego,” Roxas shrugged, wrapping the towel around his waist.

 

Axel toweled his hair dry and followed suit. “What's with the tattoo?”

 

“Hm?” Roxas looked at him confusedly.

 

“Questo,” Axel tapped Roxas' tattooed shoulder. This.

 

“Oh!” Roxas recognized his meaning. He shrugged. “Niente speciale.” Nothing special.

 

“It's a cool-looking key,” Axel commented.

 

Roxas nodded, chuckling. “I wanted something interesting.”

 

“When did you get it?”

 

Roxas laughed a little more. “Americans and their many questions,” he snorted. “L'anno scorso.” Last year.

 

“Am I annoying you?”

 

Roxas shook his head. “Is early in the morning,” he explained, waving it away.

 

Axel looked at his watch. “It's one in the afternoon.”

 

“Tredici?” Roxas blanched. When Axel nodded in response he started speaking in rapid-fire Italian again, but mostly to himself. Then he bolted out the door; confused and a little worried, Axel followed him back to his room. Roxas was throwing clothing around, obviously looking for something to wear. He was hopping around in a pair of tight jeans, still unzippered and barely hanging on to his hips as he pulled on a tight grey shirt and scavenged for his socks.

 

“What's up?” Axel asked, fighting the urge to burst into laughter at the sight.

 

“Lavoro,” the blond answered. “I have work.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Devo andare subito,” Roxas said briskly, finally pulling his outfit together. I have to go right now. He reached up and pulled Axel down to kiss his cheeks. “Ci vediamo,” he said - we'll see each other - and bolted out the door.

 

Axel followed, still only in the towel. The front door to the apartment banged shut just as he entered the kitchen, leaving him almost completely naked where Roxas' flat mates were all gathered around the table eating breakfast and staring at him blankly (or in the case of the kid with the gelled-up dirty blond hair and camo, mutinously).

 

After several minutes of mutual staring Axel slowly backed up into Roxas' room to put some pants on and screw up the courage to ask one of them for directions home.