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As always, special thanks to my darling Ansi, for kicking my ass. And to Curly, for doing the same. :3 Warnings: Same as the last two chapters, only without the arson. Summary: AU. Axel/Roxas. He wanted an ending. He got Axel instead. Roxas wasn't entirely sure he liked the run-down castle-like mansion he soon found himself in. The theme of the place seemed to be 'white', but it was really taken to the extreme. It wasn't just that the walls and floor were white, everything was. The curtains, the furniture, the doors, the improbably located seats on the wall in what appeared to be some sort of throne room. And it was all the same blinding shade of white, something that played with your eyes and almost made it look as if the people in the wall-chairs were floating in midair. He wondered if it was meant to be intimidating, and how many people had actually seen this place, and whether or not he was a little bit messed in the head for being utterly unimpressed. The seated people looked down at them with what Roxas assumed was interest--not that he could be sure because every one of them had their hoods up, hiding their faces. It irked him a little, made him feel the slightest bit vulnerable, but he stared up at them coldly anyway and waited for something to happen. "He's just a kid," a voice echoed in the room, sounding more curious than annoyed like Four had been. "You sure you know what you're doing, Eight? He could be a weakness." "Hey, I was a kid when I joined too," Ares grinned in response, staring unnervingly at one of the highest-seated men. "I didn't slow you guys down any, did I?" "That was different," another voice spoke. It was rough and there was a hint of a growl behind every word he spoke. "Both you and Nine had been born in the Underground. You could get by, and knew everything important anyway. What's so special about this little rich boy?" "Well..." the redhead rubbed at the back of his hair, not looking up at anyone. "He's not afraid of me? And he can be pretty nasty. Doesn't bat an eye at anything. Mostly anything. But, you know, anyone'd be a bit shaken up after their house burnt down and father died, right?" "Eight talks too much," a female voice called, laughing. "I say we test the little brat. I think I see some sort of weapon under that coat of his." "Yeah, he's packing some weirdass swords!" Ares grinned. "I was wondering about those things. They kind of hurt when you jumped me, kid." "You grabbed me first," Roxas muttered, speaking for the first time since they'd entered and scowling as he did so. "It's your own fault." "I bet he doesn't even know how to use them!" the girl said mockingly. "Bet he just wanted something to remind him of home when he finally left." "I can use them," Roxas returned as quietly as he could without whispering, but it echoed in the room anyway. There was a stirring of interest in the gathered people, Ares was smirking smugly, and the blond was suddenly nervous. He realized that he actually was going to be tested, and because he'd gone and opened his big mouth he'd probably be fighting someone. He hoped it wasn't the girl. Her voice was grating on his nerves, and he had a feeling that no amount of fighting would make her shut up. She seemed the type to taunt and brag endlessly. "Perhaps a small demonstration of his skills," an accented voice murmured thoughtfully. "He could fight one of us. Just not Twelve. We'll need him to make it through intact." "Oh, Ten, darling, you know I always keep my toys in one piece," the girl cackled. "Leaves me something to play with again later." "Enough!" someone--obviously the leader--snapped, silencing the other members immediately. "A small test sounds like a good idea. Eleven. Try not to hurt him too much." "I'll do my best not to," a deep voice spoke, and a surprisingly slender man jumped down from his seat. He had a scythe in his hand--pink and green, odd colors for such a dangerous weapon--and absolutely towered over Roxas. "Well, boy? I don't think we should be fighting when you're unarmed." Roxas hesitated for hardly a second before he began unzipping his trenchcoat. He felt oddly exposed with it open, like every flaw he had (and a few he didn't have) was out in the open for everyone to see. He shrugged it off his shoulders, earning a whistle from one of the higher people, and Ares reached out to take it from him. "Good luck," the man whispered softly enough that nobody could hear him, and gave Roxas a soft push forward. Roxas schooled his expression, making sure he didn't look as scared as he felt, and stepped forward until he was only a few feet away from Eleven--far enough away that he was sure he was out of range of the scythe, but close enough that he would be able to get a hit in--and fell smoothly into his fighting stance as he pulled out his keyblades. The members stirred again, but he didn't pay enough attention to be able to figure out what they were interested in. He was trained on the man before him, who was standing casually as if he didn't think the small blond boy in front of him was even worth the time to be testing. The confidence assured Roxas that he wouldn't get his ass handed to him, because if he wasn't going to be taken seriously, he wasn't going to mess around. The man seemed to be waiting for a signal of some sort, but Roxas had already decided he wasn't going to make the first move. It was easier for him to get the feel of someone's abilities if they attacked first and he could see the way they moved, see how fast he had to react in order to block and counterattack. He figured Eleven was the same way...but he also figured that he had more patience. Sure enough, it wasn't long before the man jumped forward and swung the long weapon at him, forcing Roxas to dodge and thrust it away at the same time. So, Eleven was fast. But if that was as fast as he could move, Roxas was faster. All the same, he quickly backpedaled a few steps--both to keep the distance in case he was judging wrong, and to make the other continue to underestimate him. "Are you afraid of me, boy?" Eleven asked, chuckling lightly. "I don't suppose I can blame you, really. I've obviously got the advantage here." Roxas opted not to say anything, though he narrowed his eyes in feigned anger and twirled the sword in his right hand like it was a nervous habit. Let Eleven think this was going to be an easy win, that Roxas couldn't control his emotions and would let them force him to do something stupid. He did have a short temper, but he wasn't going to lose something this important. He was too proud of his skills to do that...and, for some reason he didn't particularly want to think about, he felt like he absolutely could not let Ares down. When Eleven jumped forward again, swinging his weapon wide, Roxas took his advantage and leapt forward to meet him. He could feel the other's surprise and knew he had to use it, changing tactics and aiming low in the hopes of at least knocking him off his feet. Only the man was slightly better than expected, and Roxas was bitterly disappointed when he jumped over the weapon and copied Roxas' earlier backpedaling movements. Roxas slowly stood back up and tried not to smirk when he noted how far his enemy had moved away. The two of them stared at each other for a moment, until Roxas realized that Eleven was reconsidering the ease of this farce of a fight. But Roxas couldn't have that and he ran forward, dragging the keyblades against the ground for a distraction, and was gratified to notice that Eleven made an automatic move to cover his ears at the piercing noise. He was almost too late to block, but Roxas wasn't bothered with the man's success, smashing his keyblade into the scythe and spinning to attack again, eyes narrowed in concentration as he continued swinging until the scythe finally went flying and the taller man fell to the floor with a gasp. He pointed one weapon at the man's hooded face and smirked, triumphant. Someone began clapping, and Roxas looked up to see that Ares had thrown his coat over his own shoulder and was grinning ridiculously. Roxas forced himself not to smile. "That is quite enough, Eight," the deep voice of the leader called down, and Roxas looked up to see one of the hooded figures lifting his hands to his hood. The blond's eyes widened as the cloth fell back to reveal a man with absolutely indescribable gray hair and cold hawk-yellow eyes. "Your ability to fight notwithstanding, there is no true way to tell if you would be a good addition to our organization without some manner of...testing. A week with Two should suffice." One of the highest figures jumped from his seat--Roxas blinked in surprise and missed the landing, though he heard the soft thunk of booted feet hitting the tiled floor. When Roxas opened his eyes, another tall figure was before him and he could see the hint of a single yellow eye and a masculine face in the shadows of the hood. Then the man ruffled his hair, chuckling as Roxas batted irritably at his arm, and turned his attention back to the leader. "Do not be a disappointment." Roxas heard the tone of dismissal in the leader's words and wasn't surprised when Ares swept him out of the room, Two following on their heels. Nobody said a word as they walked through the halls--something that made Roxas unaccountably nervous--but the sound of rustling fabric made the blond boy turn to look at Two and nearly stop dead in his tracks. The reason he'd only seen the hint of one eye was immediately obvious--a large eyepatch adorned the right side of his face. But the livid scar on the left cheek stood out unexpectedly, completely overshadowing the attractive shape of his face and his long graying hair, and Roxas couldn't help the brief moment of wide-eyed surprise. "Don't be so nervous, little dude," the man snickered. "They're old wounds. There's hardly anything going on around here that I can't deal with, and you look like you can handle yourself alright." He came to a sudden halt, spinning to face Roxas and bending over to look him right in the eye. "You wanna see something cool?" "Uh...sure," Roxas returned uncertainly, eyes flickering over to a smirking Ares before returning to the man in front of him, whose wide grin put the redhead's to shame. Two flipped up his eyepatch with little fanfare and Roxas almost held back a wince--the Organization's tattoo was drawn in brilliantly colored detail over the man's sealed eyelid, barely concealing another dark scar. "Yeah, I think you'll do alright," Two laughed, straightening up and ruffling Roxas' hair again. "Name's Xigbar." His eyes left Roxas' to leer at Ares suggestively. "I'll leave you two alone for a couple minutes. You know where the room is." He didn't even give them a second glance as he quickly walked off, leaving a rather befuddled Roxas to glance back at Ares for some sort of clarification. "Congratulations! Xigbar likes you," Ares announced cheerfully, making Roxas' eyebrows raise. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted Xigbar to like him, though it was definitely good news when you considered that they were going to be stuck with each other for a week. But something about the older man unnerved him, made him uncertain and twitchy and thankful that the other hadn't been there during the arson. "Look, don't mind the old bastard; you'll get used to him soon enough. And I'm pretty sure he won't molest you in your sleep, though how he could possibly resist you is completely beyond my understanding." "Shut up," Roxas snarled, feeling himself blush. He tried to ignore the way his insides jumped when Ares turned a gentle smile on him, covering it up with his usual scowl. Ares seemed unimpressed by it, reaching out to wrap his arm tightly around Roxas' shoulders and beginning to walk slowly in the direction Xigbar had gone. "Kid, there's a couple things you should probably know about me," he began amiably, keeping his face forward and not even glancing down at the boy attached to his side. "The first is that I almost never shut up--in fact, I'd say Nine's the only one that talks more than me. So, no, I'm not going to shut up. And you can threaten me all you want, but I've already gotten threatened by the best and Xigbar's shot me in the ass once, so it won't do you much good." Roxas smirked, giving the idea some thought and deciding that Xigbar probably would have done that, and he couldn't really blame the man. "And the second thing I probably should have mentioned on the way over here. My name--my real name, not the one I gave myself to use in public--is Axel. Wouldn't want you embarrassing yourself and calling me anything else." "...Axel," Roxas echoed uncertainly. The redhead certainly looked like an Axel--unique, dangerous, and unbearably attractive--but hearing it still caught him by surprise. He'd been calling this man Ares for a week. It wasn't going to be easy to change it in his mind. "Well, it's a lot cooler than Ares." "Aw, c'mon, Roxy," Ar--Axel pouted, stopping again to fall into a ridiculous pose, hands on his hips and feet spread far apart, like a mother scolding her child. "You telling me you didn't get it?" "I got it, and it's tacky." Roxas glared at the towering man dangerously. "And if you ever call me Roxy again, I'm going to shove my keyblade down your throat." "I'd like to see you try," Axel leered, bending over almost double to look Roxas in the eye. "You couldn't even reach." The blond's eyes narrowed to angry slits, and Axel's eyes widened comically as Roxas grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled, bringing his face in closer than it had ever been before. "I could do it right now," Roxas murmured, his voice coming out in almost a purr as he pulled Axel even closer so that their lips were nearly touching. He smirked and held their position, blue eyes boring into green, not even moving when he felt Axel's long-fingered hands clutching his waist. "You fucking tease," Axel whispered, voice harsh in frustration, and Roxas's smirk would have widened if he hadn't suddenly found himself being kissed by Axel, hadn't felt hands running up his sides in a way that made him gasp and tighten his already painful grip. He half expected to be pushed against a wall, for the dangerous man to simply take everything he wanted without giving the boy time to protest, but the embrace was surprisingly gentle. He was pressing forward of his own will, twining the fingers of his free hand in Axel's mane of hair and loosening the grip of his other hand to run it over the other's chest and shoulders, clinging to the man as if his life depended on it. He found himself on his tiptoes when Axel straightened up slightly, and it was vaguely uncomfortable but still amazing, every bit as wonderful as he'd thought it might be in the week of dreaming between their two meetings. But when he felt those hands on his ass, he pulled away in a near panic--this was going too far, too fast--falling back to the flats of his feet and staring determinedly down at the ground as he tried not to shake. After everything else that had happened that night, this intensity was too much for him. He should have known better than to tease Axel, should have known from the first time they'd met that the man wouldn't stop, but he was tired and wanted it and-- "Fuck," Axel gasped, hands on Roxas' face forcing the boy to look up. He closed his eyes to the sight of the man's concern, and heard a sigh as long arms wrapped around him in a gentle hug. "You shouldn't do shit like that, Roxas. I'm not exactly known for my self-control." "Right," Roxas whispered painfully, trying to keep his voice steady and almost failing. "I need some sleep, I think. It's been a really long day." "Yeah, of course," Axel muttered, pushing him away. He stared down at Roxas for a long moment, frowning, before he gently wrapped his arms back around Roxas' thin shoulders and steered him down the hall. The walk was silent again, and Roxas was mentally cursing his inability to follow through the entire way. At the door to what must have been Xigbar's rooms, Axel looked down at him uncertainly before his usual grin spread across his face. He leaned over, leaving a chaste kiss on his lips before murmuring a soft good night and heading off in what was presumably the direction of his own rooms. Roxas pressed his fingers to his lips as he watched the tall man walk away, surprised, and couldn't push back the gentle smile that spread across his face.  Chapter Four
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