Son of the Moon
folder
Kingdom Hearts › Slash/Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
6
Views:
2,023
Reviews:
12
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Kingdom Hearts › Slash/Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
6
Views:
2,023
Reviews:
12
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Kingdom Hearts or the characters, and I do not receive payment for the use of this material. I do not own lyrics found in this fic, and I do not receive payment for their use.
Never thought I'd let a rumor ruin my moonlight
Note: If lyrics are used in any chapter, I will cite the artist to whom they belong at the end of the chapter.
Author’s Notes: I’ve been juggling writing for this fic, a Labyrinth fic, beta-reading for someone, and working on fan art. At least it’s nice to have a predictable work schedule. My goal is to only work on one chapter of one fic at a time, so I can avoid total confusion.
Thank you TheVastOrganizationMemberXenjn, Anorexic Muffinz, and Kyuubi of KISproductions for your encouraging reviews! I loved them.
Question for you: what is it about that summary that led (some of) you to the “epic fail” expectation for this fic?
Son of the Moon
Chapter two: ‘Never thought I’d let a rumor ruin my moonlight’
~*~
“Breaking my back just to know your name;
Seventeen tracks and I've had it with this game.
I'm breaking my back just to know your name,
But heaven ain't close in a place like this,
Anything goes but don't blink, you might miss!
—The Killers, “Somebody Told Me”
~*~
In the Land of the Dead, Roxas was clacking away at his keyboard in his dark, emo room. He was telling Riku abou Axel’s erratic behavior after seeing him and Hayner together behind the hedges in the back of the school. His speakers were blaring the peppy, hyper tune of “Caramelldansen” from Stepmania. Axel called him a douche for liking this song. While the redhead liked electronica and techno, he preferred the kind that involved the dubious use of gas masks.
WhotheHellisRoxas69: After, he was all pissy and bitchy. He tried to kill me during pe and chased me to my car where he screamed at me and beat on the glass.
Baptismal_Blade: lol That’s what you get
WhotheHellisRoxas69: And he demanded that I drive him home. By the way, he could have killed me. No wonder his mom doesn’t let him drive.
WhotheHellisRoxas69: That’s what I get for what?
Baptismal_Blade: For dating someone else while being best friends w/ a guy who obviously has it for you
WhotheHellisRoxas69: I seriously hope you don’t mean what I think you mean. Has what for me?
Baptismal_Blade: The mega-horn. Wild for you. He wanks to you
WhotheHellisRoxas69: Axel isn’t in band…
Baptismal_Blade: …Roxas, I know you’re friends w/ him, but I KNOW you’re not as dumb as him
WhotheHellisRoxas69: Please tell me you’re not serious. How long has this been going on? How long have you known/suspected this?
Baptismal_Blade: For, like…EVER
WhotheHellisRoxas69: So what the hell do I do?
Baptismal_Blade: How should I know? I have to think about dealing w/ Sora
WhotheHellisRoxas69: Did you find those gloves in the pool yet?
Baptismal_Blade: NO. AND THEY’RE MY MOM’S. SHE’S GONNA KILL ME
WhotheHellisRoxas69: lol Did he find his shirt eventually?
Baptismal_Blade: …
WhotheHellisRoxas69: You kept it, didn’t you?
Baptismal_Blade: Don’t tell him. Please.
Roxas wasn’t sure why, but this news about Axel unsettled him. Not because he was used to thinking that Axel didn’t have feelings because he was a fricking tree—which, as everyone knew, is a plant, and plants can feel pain—but because he was…Axel. Who had the emotional depth and consistency of a part-time heroin-addict and full-time squirrel.
And that squirrel didn’t have the brains to prepare for winter.
~*~
The next day, while pouring over his soggy cereal, Roxas decided that the best course of action was to avoid Axel. Of course. Because avoiding the problem which isn’t yet a problem is the best way to solve the problem—which is currently non-existent. And the problem wasn’t Axel’s sexual feelings towards him, but Roxas’ discomfort with this knowledge. But Roxas wasn’t ready to think of that just then. No, he wasn’t ready to acknowledge that he might ditch a best friend because of his erections. Not like Roxas had any experience with those.
Suddenly, he felt his cell phone vibrate in his pants pocket. He dug it out and flipped it open.
“Hello?” he rasped in his morning voice.
It was Kairi. Who also might have ESP—give or take an ‘N.’
“Roxas, you’re such a eunuch.”
The call ended and Roxas stared groggily at the bright screen, trying to move the gear shift of his brain into Drive, instead of god damn, motherfucking, redheaded REVERSE.
He eventually managed—and he didn’t drive his car backwards up the street, either.
~*~
Roxas arrived in the school parking lot later than usual that morning and made a mad dash from his Deathmobile into homeroom. He was lucky: no redheaded stalkers were waiting for him this day. The blond threw himself down in his usual seat—in the desk next to Sora.
“What’s wrong with you?” Sora asked, twisting his head to peer into his look-a-like’s ominous expression.
“Axel,” he grunted.
“But that’s been going on for years. The medication finally not cutting it for ya?”
Roxas glared at the blue-eyed wonder, who was contentedly sipping his ‘French Vanilla Café: Sugar Free and Naturally Decaffeinated!’ from an orange mug.
“All right, gaybo.”
Sora grinned cheekily at him. “What I always aspired to be: a hobo and a…well, not a gay person, but that just happened.”
“Careful, or Riku might jizz himself,” Roxas said cruelly. He could just see Riku’s usually cool, collected face contort with bruising indignity and rage. And he could see Riku’s face change because Riku sat on the other side of Sora.
Riku gave him a death glare that looked like his face had been pressed for hours in a stinking vat of horse piss and lard.
The homeroom bell rang and the announcements came on over the PA. Roxas glanced at his schedule. This year’s class schedule, which had changed every year for three years because the bloody administration couldn’t make up their minds, rotated by one class every day while still having the same number of classes every day. So, yesterday, Roxas’ last class was gym, which meant that his first class today was gym. Gym with Axel. Roxas wasn’t ready for that.
“Heeeeeeeeey, Sora,” the blond said in his best I’m-totally-not-creepin’ voice.
“I require cash up front,” Sora stated, not looking up from his stupid drink. “No checks or credit cards, thank you.”
“I need you to switch with me for first period.”
“What’s your first period?”
“Gym. You?”
“English. You good at it?”
“I’m all right. No tests or quizzes today?”
“Jah. Now why do you need to swap today?”
“Axel. I’m avoiding him.”
“Roxas, he’s gay. You’re gay,” Sora said pointedly.
“Did everyone know about this before me?!” Roxas hissed, more at Riku than Sora. The silver-haired male just whistled and smirked.
“Well, we didn’t bother to announce it because we thought you…er…weren’t as thick as him.”
“Whatever. So can you switch with me today? Please?”
“Yes, for twenty bucks and the combination to your gym locker.”
So the necessary items and bits of information were exchanged. And life went on, for better or for worse, rather than happily ever after.
~*~
Sora was standing on the pool deck, proudly sporting Roxas’ ugly orange and blue swim trunks. And he was standing next to a wiry, towering redhead in a black and red swim speedo. Sora could feel waves of anger and resentment emanating from Axel’s body. He was presenting a deep scowl to the watery, bathing-suited world around him, with a remarkably deep crease between his eyebrows.
Great.
While the gym teacher hadn’t noticed the difference in “Roxas,” the best friend sure did. And while one could make a convincing case that Axel did not, in fact, have a fully-formed brain, the redhead did recognize an imposter when he saw one. At least in concern to his best friend—not Splenda.
Sora and Axel stood in neighboring lines at the very front. When the instructor blew his whistle, the students lined up at the edge of the pool were supposed to dive in, swim a lap in their respective lanes, exit the pool, and rejoin the end of their line. The gym teacher blew his whistle, but Axel had other ideas. While Sora was about to dive, Axel shoved him sideways into the pool.
It took a depressing twenty seconds of watching bubbles surface before the gym teacher made someone dive in after Sora.
~*~
Riku and Roxas were whispering behind Mr. Simmons’ back. The balding teacher of sixty was a talented instructor who had an evident, infectious passion for his subject, but he couldn’t seem to make Macbeth interesting for the life of him.
“Don’t you think that when Axel notices, he’ll be…well, pissed?” Riku whispered to the blond. “He can get violent, you know. You remember when he first found out about you and Hayner months ago—you remember the comb.”
“Yes, and I still have the scars on my ribcage,” Roxas growled.
“He might take it out on Sora!”
Roxas rolled his eyes.
“Pfft. Oh, he’ll be fine.”
~*~
The next time Wonder Bread and Nursery Rhyme—aka, Sora and Riku—were reunited, it was in the nurse’s office during first lunch. Sora, childhood champion of the wheat, was lying on a cot with a fever, groaning about how he could still taste the pool water, and it tasted like piss. He shivered under a pristine white wool blanket that who knows how many disease-ridden students had touched.
The two school nurses were a middle-aged man named Mr. Levasseur from Canada and a pretty, thirty-something woman who liked the students to call her Nikei. Today, however, Mr. Levasseur was not in, so Riku had the chance to work his handsome, silver-haired, muscled magic—oh god. He smiled at the woman like they shared dark, moist secrets and spoke to her as though every word out of his mouth alluded to dreamy rendezvous on the starlit Paris streets and fantasies shared in underground London. Nikei’s dark skin flushed with a lovely reddish glow.
And this was how Riku smarmed his way into driving poor, sick Sora home, even though he wasn’t his legal guardian.
Riku had to make two trips to his car: one to transport their backpacks and another to carry Sora. Riku could have carried both at once, but his best friend was flailing in a way that would have landed them both on the ground had Riku been balancing anything else.
In Nikei’s defense, she really was a responsible, intelligent, talented, and professionally appropriate woman. However, Riku was a formidable opponent to the social ideal that “psychologically healthy adults are never sexually attracted to sexual beings below the age of eighteen.” Even Mr. Levasseur, an unquestionably heterosexual man, had trouble dealing ‘appropriately’ with Riku.
Riku buckled Sora safely into the passenger seat and put a towel in his lap. While the silver-haired male did, for some reason, have beach towels in his car, he did not have a bucket to catch vomit, and he told Sora as much.
“Just puke into the towel, okay?” he said, sliding into the driver’s seat.
Sora was losing the glazed look in his eyes. Riku felt his best friend’s forehead—his temperature was decreasing, thankfully.
“I’ll drive you to school tomorrow so you won’t have to take the bus. Your car should be safe here for one night.”
Riku backed out of the parking spot and exited the lot. He drove smoothly for the sake of Sora’s stomach, as Sora was still far from optimum health, if his persistent gurgling was any indication. They were almost to Sora’s house when a deer suddenly jumped out into the middle of the road. Riku slammed on the breaks, throwing both he and his passenger forward. Sora tried desperately not to vomit into his towel.
“Stupid dogs, they’re everywhere. Sorry, Sora,” Riku said after the dumb deer trotted away. Wonder Bread leered, trembling, at the silver-haired male.
“Dogs? God damn it, Riku.”
~*~
Riku unlocked the front door and carried Sora into the family room and gently deposited him on the couch. Riku then dashed back to his car to get their backpacks and locked up behind him. Once he was sure no burglar would be prancing in, he went about getting “sick person equipment,” which included blankets, buckets, thermometers, rubber gloves, pain killers, and soup. The blankets, bucket, thermometer, and pain killers went into their proper places on or in Sora, except for the rubber gloves. Those poor gloves thought their destiny was to engulf Riku’s hands when cleaning up vomit, but no—their hopes were crushed as they found themselves placed on the pouty, pathetic patient’s ears. Riku tried to keep from smiling—Sora looked so…
Not cute. Because men, real men, did not use the word “cute.”
So instead of using that emasculating word, Riku let out a strangled coo. His eyes went all misty and his lips quirked up in an odd I’m-not-smiling-because-you’re-cute-I’m-really-not expression. Fortunately, he recovered quickly. He checked the thermometer: the fever was steadily falling.
“You like doing that, don’t you?” Riku asked, eyeing Sora’s head accessories. His best friend only huffed in response and shooed him away to get soup.
For the life of him, Riku couldn’t find any soup in the house; no cans, packets, or other instant-crap. He opted for a stick of raw Tollhouse cookie dough. And while unorthodox, Riku quickly became Sora’s favorite nurse in the world—until he started projectile vomiting an hour later.
In between Sora’s spews, Riku managed to cart his friend into the bathroom. He remained there, rubbing Sora’s back and holding his long bangs out of the way as his emptied his stomach into the toilet bowl.
When Sora had another moment of peace, he launched his anger at Riku.
“Haven’t you been watching the news lately?! E. Coli outbreaks from this crap!” he rasped viciously. Or as viciously as a wet sandwich.
Riku grunted and crossed his arms defensively.
“Yea, I have. And if you already knew about the risk, why the hell did you eat it?”
“Because I can’t smell, so I can’t taste well, and I wasn’t looking because the light is giving me a migraine!” Sora screeched, and vomited again. When the last of the cookie dough was out of his stomach, the brunet slumped onto the tile floor, groaning.
“I’m telling everyone about your secret spy name,” Sora said in a deadened whisper.
“Oh, come on! I was a dumb kid, and you said you wouldn’t tell!!”
“Oh, but I would, Nursery Rhyme,” Sora snickered, grinning maliciously. Riku growled and wiped his friend’s face clean rather roughly with toilet paper.
“If you do, I’ll tell everyone about yours,” Riku countered.
“’Wonder Bread’ is my style; no one would be surprised. And besides,” Sora said, flashing his pretty, baby-blue eyes at his best friend—“I’m Wonder Bread.”
“I could kill you,” Riku growled, carrying Sora into the family room again.
“Then you would get a bad reference and no hospital would hire you again,” the brunet replied brightly.
“This is not a hospital.”
“This is not a democracy!”
“You are not my friend.”
Sora’s fever grew worse until he began flailing about in what Riku presumed was delirium. The silver-haired male’s pride was still smarting though he was somewhat worried, so he stationed himself beside his patient on the couch and glared at the television screen.
Sora began singing the tune of “Rubber Ducky” in a thin, quavering voice.
“Banana hammocks, you’re the one! You make gym class so much fun…”
“You’re off-key, Sora.”
Sora started wailing in distress.
The brunet eventually fell onto the floor, and stayed there. Hours later, when his parents arrived home from work, they found their only son puddling about on the floor like a Magikarp. Or a Muk—they weren’t sure, and neither was Sora.
~*~
Meanwhile, in the Land of the Flamers, Axel was steaming on the sofa in his family room. He couldn’t stop picturing Roxas and Hayner making out with clothing riding up and hands everywhere and euurgh. Hayner was such a lesbian.
“And I just can’t look, it’s killing me
And taking control—
Jealousy, turning saints into the sea;
Swimming through sick lullabies,
Choking on your alibis…”
Axel tugged his ipod earphones out and sauntered over to the computer. The dark screen flared up with light and he began web surfing to take his mind off of Roxas and ‘Euurgh.’ He sifted through emails, spam and otherwise, clicked links, somehow got lost, and wound up glaring at an empty search engine box.
Roxas had been dallying with Hayner for just over four months now—wasn’t he tired of him yet? What outside force would finally convince Roxas of the enormous connotations of Hayner’s handbag?
Axel clicked on another tab on his browser. There, one thing led to another until he found himself staring at an enormous photo gallery of New York City’s famous and beloved Naked Cowboy. Something horrifying clicked with something gullible in the redhead’s brain then. He smirked, went back to that search engine, and started typing. He ordered a bunch of things from a Western clothing site, using his mother’s credit card. Rush delivery.
“Gotcha!” he hissed, snapping his fingers delightedly.
“But it’s just the price I pay,
Destiny is calling me…”
~*~
And there is your chapter two. I apologize for the wait, although I can’t remember how long ago I posted the previous chapter. I was surprised that I didn’t find places to put in more Killers lyrics.
Don’t worry; the Roxas/Hayner is temporary. Very temporary. Roxas is going to leave him in a ditch somewhere. (And you think I’m joking.)
I apologize for the lack of italics and bold. I don't know how or if I can use those w/ AFF's format.
“And I just can’t look, it’s killing me / And taking control—Jealousy, turning saints into the sea; / Swimming through sick lullabies, / Choking on your alibis. / But it’s just the price I pay, / Destiny is calling me” –“Mr. Brightside” by The Killers. Hot Fuss album.
A deep, heartfelt thanks in advance to my reviewers!
Author’s Notes: I’ve been juggling writing for this fic, a Labyrinth fic, beta-reading for someone, and working on fan art. At least it’s nice to have a predictable work schedule. My goal is to only work on one chapter of one fic at a time, so I can avoid total confusion.
Thank you TheVastOrganizationMemberXenjn, Anorexic Muffinz, and Kyuubi of KISproductions for your encouraging reviews! I loved them.
Question for you: what is it about that summary that led (some of) you to the “epic fail” expectation for this fic?
Chapter two: ‘Never thought I’d let a rumor ruin my moonlight’
~*~
“Breaking my back just to know your name;
Seventeen tracks and I've had it with this game.
I'm breaking my back just to know your name,
But heaven ain't close in a place like this,
Anything goes but don't blink, you might miss!
—The Killers, “Somebody Told Me”
~*~
In the Land of the Dead, Roxas was clacking away at his keyboard in his dark, emo room. He was telling Riku abou Axel’s erratic behavior after seeing him and Hayner together behind the hedges in the back of the school. His speakers were blaring the peppy, hyper tune of “Caramelldansen” from Stepmania. Axel called him a douche for liking this song. While the redhead liked electronica and techno, he preferred the kind that involved the dubious use of gas masks.
WhotheHellisRoxas69: After, he was all pissy and bitchy. He tried to kill me during pe and chased me to my car where he screamed at me and beat on the glass.
Baptismal_Blade: lol That’s what you get
WhotheHellisRoxas69: And he demanded that I drive him home. By the way, he could have killed me. No wonder his mom doesn’t let him drive.
WhotheHellisRoxas69: That’s what I get for what?
Baptismal_Blade: For dating someone else while being best friends w/ a guy who obviously has it for you
WhotheHellisRoxas69: I seriously hope you don’t mean what I think you mean. Has what for me?
Baptismal_Blade: The mega-horn. Wild for you. He wanks to you
WhotheHellisRoxas69: Axel isn’t in band…
Baptismal_Blade: …Roxas, I know you’re friends w/ him, but I KNOW you’re not as dumb as him
WhotheHellisRoxas69: Please tell me you’re not serious. How long has this been going on? How long have you known/suspected this?
Baptismal_Blade: For, like…EVER
WhotheHellisRoxas69: So what the hell do I do?
Baptismal_Blade: How should I know? I have to think about dealing w/ Sora
WhotheHellisRoxas69: Did you find those gloves in the pool yet?
Baptismal_Blade: NO. AND THEY’RE MY MOM’S. SHE’S GONNA KILL ME
WhotheHellisRoxas69: lol Did he find his shirt eventually?
Baptismal_Blade: …
WhotheHellisRoxas69: You kept it, didn’t you?
Baptismal_Blade: Don’t tell him. Please.
Roxas wasn’t sure why, but this news about Axel unsettled him. Not because he was used to thinking that Axel didn’t have feelings because he was a fricking tree—which, as everyone knew, is a plant, and plants can feel pain—but because he was…Axel. Who had the emotional depth and consistency of a part-time heroin-addict and full-time squirrel.
And that squirrel didn’t have the brains to prepare for winter.
~*~
The next day, while pouring over his soggy cereal, Roxas decided that the best course of action was to avoid Axel. Of course. Because avoiding the problem which isn’t yet a problem is the best way to solve the problem—which is currently non-existent. And the problem wasn’t Axel’s sexual feelings towards him, but Roxas’ discomfort with this knowledge. But Roxas wasn’t ready to think of that just then. No, he wasn’t ready to acknowledge that he might ditch a best friend because of his erections. Not like Roxas had any experience with those.
Suddenly, he felt his cell phone vibrate in his pants pocket. He dug it out and flipped it open.
“Hello?” he rasped in his morning voice.
It was Kairi. Who also might have ESP—give or take an ‘N.’
“Roxas, you’re such a eunuch.”
The call ended and Roxas stared groggily at the bright screen, trying to move the gear shift of his brain into Drive, instead of god damn, motherfucking, redheaded REVERSE.
He eventually managed—and he didn’t drive his car backwards up the street, either.
~*~
Roxas arrived in the school parking lot later than usual that morning and made a mad dash from his Deathmobile into homeroom. He was lucky: no redheaded stalkers were waiting for him this day. The blond threw himself down in his usual seat—in the desk next to Sora.
“What’s wrong with you?” Sora asked, twisting his head to peer into his look-a-like’s ominous expression.
“Axel,” he grunted.
“But that’s been going on for years. The medication finally not cutting it for ya?”
Roxas glared at the blue-eyed wonder, who was contentedly sipping his ‘French Vanilla Café: Sugar Free and Naturally Decaffeinated!’ from an orange mug.
“All right, gaybo.”
Sora grinned cheekily at him. “What I always aspired to be: a hobo and a…well, not a gay person, but that just happened.”
“Careful, or Riku might jizz himself,” Roxas said cruelly. He could just see Riku’s usually cool, collected face contort with bruising indignity and rage. And he could see Riku’s face change because Riku sat on the other side of Sora.
Riku gave him a death glare that looked like his face had been pressed for hours in a stinking vat of horse piss and lard.
The homeroom bell rang and the announcements came on over the PA. Roxas glanced at his schedule. This year’s class schedule, which had changed every year for three years because the bloody administration couldn’t make up their minds, rotated by one class every day while still having the same number of classes every day. So, yesterday, Roxas’ last class was gym, which meant that his first class today was gym. Gym with Axel. Roxas wasn’t ready for that.
“Heeeeeeeeey, Sora,” the blond said in his best I’m-totally-not-creepin’ voice.
“I require cash up front,” Sora stated, not looking up from his stupid drink. “No checks or credit cards, thank you.”
“I need you to switch with me for first period.”
“What’s your first period?”
“Gym. You?”
“English. You good at it?”
“I’m all right. No tests or quizzes today?”
“Jah. Now why do you need to swap today?”
“Axel. I’m avoiding him.”
“Roxas, he’s gay. You’re gay,” Sora said pointedly.
“Did everyone know about this before me?!” Roxas hissed, more at Riku than Sora. The silver-haired male just whistled and smirked.
“Well, we didn’t bother to announce it because we thought you…er…weren’t as thick as him.”
“Whatever. So can you switch with me today? Please?”
“Yes, for twenty bucks and the combination to your gym locker.”
So the necessary items and bits of information were exchanged. And life went on, for better or for worse, rather than happily ever after.
~*~
Sora was standing on the pool deck, proudly sporting Roxas’ ugly orange and blue swim trunks. And he was standing next to a wiry, towering redhead in a black and red swim speedo. Sora could feel waves of anger and resentment emanating from Axel’s body. He was presenting a deep scowl to the watery, bathing-suited world around him, with a remarkably deep crease between his eyebrows.
Great.
While the gym teacher hadn’t noticed the difference in “Roxas,” the best friend sure did. And while one could make a convincing case that Axel did not, in fact, have a fully-formed brain, the redhead did recognize an imposter when he saw one. At least in concern to his best friend—not Splenda.
Sora and Axel stood in neighboring lines at the very front. When the instructor blew his whistle, the students lined up at the edge of the pool were supposed to dive in, swim a lap in their respective lanes, exit the pool, and rejoin the end of their line. The gym teacher blew his whistle, but Axel had other ideas. While Sora was about to dive, Axel shoved him sideways into the pool.
It took a depressing twenty seconds of watching bubbles surface before the gym teacher made someone dive in after Sora.
~*~
Riku and Roxas were whispering behind Mr. Simmons’ back. The balding teacher of sixty was a talented instructor who had an evident, infectious passion for his subject, but he couldn’t seem to make Macbeth interesting for the life of him.
“Don’t you think that when Axel notices, he’ll be…well, pissed?” Riku whispered to the blond. “He can get violent, you know. You remember when he first found out about you and Hayner months ago—you remember the comb.”
“Yes, and I still have the scars on my ribcage,” Roxas growled.
“He might take it out on Sora!”
Roxas rolled his eyes.
“Pfft. Oh, he’ll be fine.”
~*~
The next time Wonder Bread and Nursery Rhyme—aka, Sora and Riku—were reunited, it was in the nurse’s office during first lunch. Sora, childhood champion of the wheat, was lying on a cot with a fever, groaning about how he could still taste the pool water, and it tasted like piss. He shivered under a pristine white wool blanket that who knows how many disease-ridden students had touched.
The two school nurses were a middle-aged man named Mr. Levasseur from Canada and a pretty, thirty-something woman who liked the students to call her Nikei. Today, however, Mr. Levasseur was not in, so Riku had the chance to work his handsome, silver-haired, muscled magic—oh god. He smiled at the woman like they shared dark, moist secrets and spoke to her as though every word out of his mouth alluded to dreamy rendezvous on the starlit Paris streets and fantasies shared in underground London. Nikei’s dark skin flushed with a lovely reddish glow.
And this was how Riku smarmed his way into driving poor, sick Sora home, even though he wasn’t his legal guardian.
Riku had to make two trips to his car: one to transport their backpacks and another to carry Sora. Riku could have carried both at once, but his best friend was flailing in a way that would have landed them both on the ground had Riku been balancing anything else.
In Nikei’s defense, she really was a responsible, intelligent, talented, and professionally appropriate woman. However, Riku was a formidable opponent to the social ideal that “psychologically healthy adults are never sexually attracted to sexual beings below the age of eighteen.” Even Mr. Levasseur, an unquestionably heterosexual man, had trouble dealing ‘appropriately’ with Riku.
Riku buckled Sora safely into the passenger seat and put a towel in his lap. While the silver-haired male did, for some reason, have beach towels in his car, he did not have a bucket to catch vomit, and he told Sora as much.
“Just puke into the towel, okay?” he said, sliding into the driver’s seat.
Sora was losing the glazed look in his eyes. Riku felt his best friend’s forehead—his temperature was decreasing, thankfully.
“I’ll drive you to school tomorrow so you won’t have to take the bus. Your car should be safe here for one night.”
Riku backed out of the parking spot and exited the lot. He drove smoothly for the sake of Sora’s stomach, as Sora was still far from optimum health, if his persistent gurgling was any indication. They were almost to Sora’s house when a deer suddenly jumped out into the middle of the road. Riku slammed on the breaks, throwing both he and his passenger forward. Sora tried desperately not to vomit into his towel.
“Stupid dogs, they’re everywhere. Sorry, Sora,” Riku said after the dumb deer trotted away. Wonder Bread leered, trembling, at the silver-haired male.
“Dogs? God damn it, Riku.”
~*~
Riku unlocked the front door and carried Sora into the family room and gently deposited him on the couch. Riku then dashed back to his car to get their backpacks and locked up behind him. Once he was sure no burglar would be prancing in, he went about getting “sick person equipment,” which included blankets, buckets, thermometers, rubber gloves, pain killers, and soup. The blankets, bucket, thermometer, and pain killers went into their proper places on or in Sora, except for the rubber gloves. Those poor gloves thought their destiny was to engulf Riku’s hands when cleaning up vomit, but no—their hopes were crushed as they found themselves placed on the pouty, pathetic patient’s ears. Riku tried to keep from smiling—Sora looked so…
Not cute. Because men, real men, did not use the word “cute.”
So instead of using that emasculating word, Riku let out a strangled coo. His eyes went all misty and his lips quirked up in an odd I’m-not-smiling-because-you’re-cute-I’m-really-not expression. Fortunately, he recovered quickly. He checked the thermometer: the fever was steadily falling.
“You like doing that, don’t you?” Riku asked, eyeing Sora’s head accessories. His best friend only huffed in response and shooed him away to get soup.
For the life of him, Riku couldn’t find any soup in the house; no cans, packets, or other instant-crap. He opted for a stick of raw Tollhouse cookie dough. And while unorthodox, Riku quickly became Sora’s favorite nurse in the world—until he started projectile vomiting an hour later.
In between Sora’s spews, Riku managed to cart his friend into the bathroom. He remained there, rubbing Sora’s back and holding his long bangs out of the way as his emptied his stomach into the toilet bowl.
When Sora had another moment of peace, he launched his anger at Riku.
“Haven’t you been watching the news lately?! E. Coli outbreaks from this crap!” he rasped viciously. Or as viciously as a wet sandwich.
Riku grunted and crossed his arms defensively.
“Yea, I have. And if you already knew about the risk, why the hell did you eat it?”
“Because I can’t smell, so I can’t taste well, and I wasn’t looking because the light is giving me a migraine!” Sora screeched, and vomited again. When the last of the cookie dough was out of his stomach, the brunet slumped onto the tile floor, groaning.
“I’m telling everyone about your secret spy name,” Sora said in a deadened whisper.
“Oh, come on! I was a dumb kid, and you said you wouldn’t tell!!”
“Oh, but I would, Nursery Rhyme,” Sora snickered, grinning maliciously. Riku growled and wiped his friend’s face clean rather roughly with toilet paper.
“If you do, I’ll tell everyone about yours,” Riku countered.
“’Wonder Bread’ is my style; no one would be surprised. And besides,” Sora said, flashing his pretty, baby-blue eyes at his best friend—“I’m Wonder Bread.”
“I could kill you,” Riku growled, carrying Sora into the family room again.
“Then you would get a bad reference and no hospital would hire you again,” the brunet replied brightly.
“This is not a hospital.”
“This is not a democracy!”
“You are not my friend.”
Sora’s fever grew worse until he began flailing about in what Riku presumed was delirium. The silver-haired male’s pride was still smarting though he was somewhat worried, so he stationed himself beside his patient on the couch and glared at the television screen.
Sora began singing the tune of “Rubber Ducky” in a thin, quavering voice.
“Banana hammocks, you’re the one! You make gym class so much fun…”
“You’re off-key, Sora.”
Sora started wailing in distress.
The brunet eventually fell onto the floor, and stayed there. Hours later, when his parents arrived home from work, they found their only son puddling about on the floor like a Magikarp. Or a Muk—they weren’t sure, and neither was Sora.
~*~
Meanwhile, in the Land of the Flamers, Axel was steaming on the sofa in his family room. He couldn’t stop picturing Roxas and Hayner making out with clothing riding up and hands everywhere and euurgh. Hayner was such a lesbian.
“And I just can’t look, it’s killing me
And taking control—
Jealousy, turning saints into the sea;
Swimming through sick lullabies,
Choking on your alibis…”
Axel tugged his ipod earphones out and sauntered over to the computer. The dark screen flared up with light and he began web surfing to take his mind off of Roxas and ‘Euurgh.’ He sifted through emails, spam and otherwise, clicked links, somehow got lost, and wound up glaring at an empty search engine box.
Roxas had been dallying with Hayner for just over four months now—wasn’t he tired of him yet? What outside force would finally convince Roxas of the enormous connotations of Hayner’s handbag?
Axel clicked on another tab on his browser. There, one thing led to another until he found himself staring at an enormous photo gallery of New York City’s famous and beloved Naked Cowboy. Something horrifying clicked with something gullible in the redhead’s brain then. He smirked, went back to that search engine, and started typing. He ordered a bunch of things from a Western clothing site, using his mother’s credit card. Rush delivery.
“Gotcha!” he hissed, snapping his fingers delightedly.
“But it’s just the price I pay,
Destiny is calling me…”
~*~
And there is your chapter two. I apologize for the wait, although I can’t remember how long ago I posted the previous chapter. I was surprised that I didn’t find places to put in more Killers lyrics.
Don’t worry; the Roxas/Hayner is temporary. Very temporary. Roxas is going to leave him in a ditch somewhere. (And you think I’m joking.)
I apologize for the lack of italics and bold. I don't know how or if I can use those w/ AFF's format.
“And I just can’t look, it’s killing me / And taking control—Jealousy, turning saints into the sea; / Swimming through sick lullabies, / Choking on your alibis. / But it’s just the price I pay, / Destiny is calling me” –“Mr. Brightside” by The Killers. Hot Fuss album.
A deep, heartfelt thanks in advance to my reviewers!