Son of the Moon

Author’s Note: Despite what you may be inclined to think, this story has a plot. It’s now chapter three and things are just starting to get moving.

Thank you LostinThought, the_assassin, and TheVastOrganizationMemberXenjn. Your reviews kept up my pace.

Question for you: do you like the new summary? XD

Enjoy. Pleasant dreams.

Son of the Moon

Chapter three: ‘Crop circles in the carpet’

~*~

‘Where are we?
What the hell is going on?
The dust has only just begun to form
Crop circles in the carpet—
Sinking feeling.’
—Imogen Heap, “Hide and Seek”

~*~

Riku covered his mouth as he gave a wide yawn; he really could have used a sip of Sora’s stupid drink right then, even if it didn’t have caffeine. He glanced at the clock in his home room. He’d gotten up earlier than usual to drive Sora to school, as he promised, only to lean from Sora’s father that Sora got a ride from his mother.

The silver-haired male squinted at Sora, who was decidedly turned away from him. He had his orange mug held protectively in his hands and was nursing his drink as he listened to Roxas animatedly blather on about Axel. As far as Riku knew, Sora didn’t actually care much about the recent turn southward in Roxas and Axel’s friendship. However, by paying attention to the blond, Sora had another reason not to interact with Riku.

When the bell rang to signal the end of homeroom, Sora grabbed his bag and darted out of the room without a glance in Riku’s direction. The silver-haired male sighed and slowly got his stuff and headed for the library; his first period that day was his free. He could finish up the homework he neglected while “nursing” Sora.

The school library was a very large area. There were multiple levels, staircases, an elevator, a computer area, a study area, and a reading area in addition to the dozens of bookshelves dividing the rooms. The library was almost equal in size to the entire gymnasium due to the significant increase in students in the past twenty years.

Riku went up the staircase to a table in the back of the second floor. He had acts to read in Macbeth, trigonometry worksheets, and a quiz to study for in biology. Riku sped through the bio and trig assignments and flung himself onto the huge pages of his English text. Macbeth. Urgh. Riku realized then that he could count only a few lines and verses from Shakespeare’s works that he liked, and most of those examples were sexual or alluded to Greek and Roman mythology.

‘She will not stay the siege of loving terms…Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold.’ Riku believed that alluded to the myth of Danae, whose father locked her in a tower because an oracle prophesized that her son would murder him. Zeus, however, came to Danae as a shower of gold and she had his son. Riku loved being able to connect the dots like this.

And every page of Macbeth, a seemingly endless drabble about anger, madness, and blood, lacked anything to titillate the sex-hyped teenage mind. Riku didn’t normally need sexual innuendo or allusions to mythology to keep his attention, but in the case of something as dreary and long as Macbeth, double-entendres were the only thing that kept his attention. But Riku pressed on—and he really did try. But his reading of a boring text went as such activities do, and somehow he found himself making a valentine card for Sora.

The card was half get well soon and half get that stick out of your ass and talk to me, you freak in sentiment. It was in the shape of a heart and it had a disgustingly happy smiley face.

~*~

With the answer to his problem almost in his grasp, Axel was in a much better mood. So soothed, he didn’t badger or confront Roxas; the redhead was confident. He could wait.

Axel’s indulgence of the blond’s wish for distance didn’t go unnoticed, but as nothing had been spelled out, Roxas wasn’t sure what this meant. When Roxas sped off to do laps around the gym, Axel didn’t try to close the gap between them. And though Axel felt peaceful that day, the sight of his best friend ahead of him felt like more than running laps in a gym.

It felt like Roxas was running away from him, and he was never going to stop.

After gym, Axel watched his best friend dart into the showers; he didn’t see him again before he left for his free period. The redhead tossed this observation into the back of his mind as he walked into the cafeteria. Sora and Kairi were there, but no Roxas, though that was no surprise.

Axel sat in the chair next to Kairi and across from Sora at the table. He checked the table for sticky residue and crumbs, then rested his head on the table, using his arms as a pillow. His eyes were closed, but he instinctively looked in the direction of Kairi’s head when she started talking to him. They had Intro to Film together; they watched something yesterday in class that interested her. It gave her an idea for the school play, if only she could pull it off.

She was alone on her project this time—it as the school’s major theater production this year, and none of the other backstage hands were willing to botch it.

“You know the pulley system over the stage? I could attach something—maybe some costumed mannequins—to the ropes and swing them across at particularly romantic moments. But I can’t do it alone,” Kairi trailed off, sounding quite wistful.

“I can help you out,” Axel said without really thinking. It might take his mind off of Roxas and the lesbian boyfriend.

Kairi was ecstatic, and that in turn made Axel’s mood improve, because people weren’t really ecstatic with him…ever. It made him happy how excitedly she started speaking, and it was because of something he could do. The male redhead’s heart, originally two sizes too small, grew three times its size.

Now, he just needed a ramshackle Santa costume and to change his name to “Mr. Grinch.”

“You know those two six-foot tall, animated witches with the glowing eyes that cackle when you turn them on in your front yard?” she asked.

Because Axel did, in fact, have two six-foot tall, animated witches with glowing eyes that cackled when someone turned them on, all year round. It was his mother’s decision; she thought it gave an “interesting” atmosphere. Axel’s mum’s supposed sanity may give some clue as to why Axel wasn’t “normal.”

“Yeah,” he said nervously. He didn’t like talking about the animated witches; he wasn’t totally sure they needed batteries to work.

“Think we could nab those for the opening night?”

“Sure, but I’d have to ask, first.”

“Please don’t tell her what we’re going to use them for!”

Axel gave her an odd look.

“Kairi, my mum would love to parade them in front of an audience of child-safety-rating clingers and conservative old women with heart problems.”

The female redhead seemed pleasantly surprised. She hugged Axel. Axel, who hadn’t been hugged in a long time by anyone except for his mother, Roxas, and a really touchy-feely male teacher, was startled. It took him a moment to remember the proper response: someone hugs you, you hug back—unless they’re a Commie or Catholic, like his mother taught him.

After a moment or two, Kairi released him and the two redheads continued devising their plans. Axel was getting into it—it sounded like fun.

Kairi trailed off—she was looking towards the entrance to the cafeteria. Axel followed her gaze to see Hayner walking in, alone. This was a surprise because Roxas’ friends didn’t usually see Hayner unless he was with Roxas.

As Hayner passed where they were sitting, Kairi asked him why he wasn’t with Roxas.

Hayner paused and shrugged. He said simply, “He just wanted to be alone.”

The gel-happy blond glared when his gaze fell upon the male redhead.

Axel bristled and got up from his slouch to sit on the table.

“Go fall off a cliff, you lesbian!” he called from his perch.

Hayner scowled, said something under his breath, and stalked off. After Hayner was out of earshot, Sora got Axel’s attention.

“Why do you call him Roxas’ ‘lesbian boyfriend’?” he asked. Kairi leaned in, similarly curious.

With a straight face, Axel deadpanned, “He has a large, metallic purple handbag. I’ve seen it.”

~*~

Though Sora was sitting right next to him in Trig, Riku felt lonely. Sora was still giving him the cold shoulder—he wouldn’t even deign to reply to any of Riku’s texts.

The obscenely happy valentine in Riku’s binder was starting to look useful.

Sora didn’t go up to the board when the Mrs. Barillo wanted answers to the homework questions, which was surprising, because Riku knew the brunet enjoyed proving himself. Alas, that day, Sora kept his bum planted firmly in his seat. Trig wasn’t the same without Sora’s Angle-Side-Side to admire.

The more he thought about how much he enjoyed Sora’s company, the closer he came to realizing that maybe his “liking” Sora was a bit more than just “liking” Sora. Just a little more—just a bit. Just a smidge.

…Okay, maybe a lot more.

He enjoyed being with Sora when he was a smug slice of ‘Wonder Bread,’ hyper, serious, or even when he was pouty. Other than having to deal with vomit, Riku derived satisfaction from nursing Sora, because…even if Sora was flailing and hallucinating, Riku got to touch him when he carried him from couch to toilet and back. He recalled touching Sora’s ankle and back in the pool the other day, and a warm, pleasant sensation spread through his body. Riku had a sore weakness for those big, baby-blue eyes and his lissome smile.

Sora’s smile made Riku smile, even when he was stressed and overworked before midterms or final exams, after he’d nearly crashed his dad’s car after getting his driver’s license, whenever some jackass at school pissed him off and he had to throttle him to maintain his reputation despite the penalties if caught. And though Sora laughed whenever Riku’s brain went on a very sudden vacation and he did something stupid, his best friend didn’t think less of him for it. And because Sora made him smile and didn’t consider him stupid for something as bloody dumbfounding as forgetting best friend’s name or waiting for the stop sign to turn green, Sora made Riku happy, and so was entitled to certain privileges.

Like accidentally forcing Riku to skim his pool for almost two straight hours searching for those god forsaken gloves —god, Riku was going to kill him—and never hearing a moan or complaint from him. Or the privilege of leisurely leaving Riku’s presence unscathed after calling him by the stupid spy name he took when he was seven.

Riku even sometimes experienced a sick, sordid, secret satisfaction when Sora called him ‘Nursery Rhyme.’ But only sometimes—under very specific conditions. Like when he whispered it at night so the syllables brushed softly between his lips like a cloud of powder from a moth’s wings. Or when he hissed it suddenly, then flashed his big, blue eyes and gave him a pleasant smile that curled his lips and reminded Riku of a simple wooden boat on the serene sea. Or when he’d coo coquettishly, if his mood was playful, and his expression made Riku think of crystal chandeliers, velvet seats, and cultured laughter before the rise of the burgundy curtain above the stage.

But Riku coveted Sora’s whispers—a few of them still haunted him, producing a delightful shiver when they floated through his mind. They elicited visions of water droplets on tan skin, the colors of a bonfire on the beach against the dusky sky, and the way the leaves danced in the wind of a cool autumn evening.

Yet the knowledge that he could like it when Sora called him by his childhood spy name made Riku want to curl into a fetal position and die, or beat his head into a wall until unconscious. Whichever was less conspicuous.

~*~

When the last bell rang, Riku got his books and strolled leisurely to his car. It was Friday, but he thought of Axel, poor sod, who had Glee Club. Riku snickered.

The silver-haired male drove to Sora’s house, fished the valentine out of his backpack, and rang the doorbell. He waited a bit, rang it again, then finally heard footsteps.

Wonder Bread wasn’t wonderfully pleased to see him. He silently scowled at Riku from the doorway, covered by a blanket around his shoulders and a pair of thin flannel pants that hugged low on his hips.

Riku tried not to look, and handed him the valentine.

Sora took the card, looked at it, then looked at Riku with an expression that meant something like you-are-an-idiot, but his best friend was already backing out of his driveway.

About an hour after Riku got home, he decided to try calling Sora. Maybe the valentine’s distressingly hopeful face would have softened him by then.

Somewhat surprisingly, Sora answered his cell phone. The conversation, however, was short, and by far the most memorable part of it was an exchange Riku overheard between Sora and Sora’s dad.

“Sora,” he heard the man call, “there’s a half-eaten apple and a root beer on the table.”

“I know,” Sora yelled back. “Isn’t it marvelous?”

~*~

After the nerdy members—minus Axel, who was not nerdy in the least—dispersed, Axel’s mother picked him up from school. The redhead had a driver’s license and he was a decent driver, except for his habit of playing with the gear shift, but his mother was a nut, and she knew her son was a nut, and feared for his life. That, or she still wanted to baby him in this odd, embarrassing, limiting fashion.

Axel’s mother was a fair-skinned woman with dark green eyes and dark brown hair. She was about a foot shorter than Axel, who was pushing six-foot-five. Her son’s height and vibrant hair color was evidently courtesy of his father, who was off dancing with wolves or something. In other words, his mum and dad were divorced, and neither he nor his mum cared as long as the infamous father paid ample child support.

Axel was one of those affectionate sons. He leaned over the gear shift and kissed his mum on the cheek. They conversed, about her work and his school, but when the conversation lapsed, Axel flipped open his phone and called Saix. They weren’t close, but they were friendly enough to randomly call each other out of the blue.

He wound up telling the Saix about the recent events with Roxas and asked for advice. Axel’s mum overheard nothing he hadn’t already told her.

“Dude,” Saix rasped over the phone—apparently Axel caught him mid-work out, “Roxas is like the sort of animal whose trust you can only gain through food. Throw some peanuts at him and see what he does.”

Axel thanked Saix for his advice, then asked his mum to drive to the general store. When they got there, Axel decided that Roxas probably wouldn’t like peanuts, so he bought sugar cubes instead.

~*~

Friday night and the whole of Saturday passed by quietly, smoothly, and peacefully. Roxas and Axel often went to the downtown area on the weekend for smoothies or ice cream and sat on the low stone walls, talking and people watching. Fortunately, this weekly ritual was interrupted on Axel’s end, as well as Roxas’, for Kairi invited Axel over to discuss their plans for the play. Meanwhile, the blond was in the mood to lie around his house reading comic books, rereading Charles Dickens’ novels, and interacting with his pet parakeet, Sasquatch. The parakeet was otherwise affectionately known by Axel as “Jesus’ Technicolor Pants,” for bird was a pretty thing of mainly white and dashes of light greens, yellows, and blues. Thinking about Sasquatch’s second name made Roxas smile.

Sora, meanwhile, was enjoying himself immensely by playing video games, helping his parents cook, and taking the only leash-trained cat of the family’s three felines for walks around his neighborhood. He avoided Riku’s street; he was still feeling a bit vengeful about the miserable effect of Riku’s sucky nursing skills.

And Sora would have been happy to continue this on Sunday, had that stupid valentine’s sappy face made him deign to give Riku the honor of his presence. He even made a valentine to answer Riku’s. He called his best friend.

“So, did my valentine finally work its magic?” Riku asked, sounding smug.

Sora took the high road—which meant acting like his knickers were in a twist.

“I have decided to give you a valentine in return,” he sniffed, and told Riku to meet him at the end of his street.

When the two met up, the brunet was less than cordial.

“What the hell is this?” Sora asked, referring to the valentine card he'd received. Sora looked very unamused. And when Sora was unamused, shit was goin’ down. “Guys don’t do hearts.”

Riku shifted nervously.

“It’s more of a…'get well soon and talk to me' heart than any other kind of heart,” the elder male said meekly.

Sora looked from Riku to the card again, then drew a red bit of paper out of his pocket and presented it to Riku.

“Well, I think this card expresses the entirety of my feelings for you,” he said.

What the silver-haired male had in his hands was the most disgruntled looking heart he’d ever seen. It had the most scathing look Riku had ever known a valentine heart to give.

( Author’s Note: By the way, if anyone wants to SEE those valentines, there’s a link to a picture in my profile. I suggest you look. It’s golden. Seriously, though.)

Riku didn’t know what to make of it—was this heart completely displeased or disgusted by his heart? Or was it momentary displeasure encapsulated within a loving heart?

“Er, right, so, do we have a truce?” Riku asked somewhat tentatively.

Sora snorted.

“Look, can you just forgive me? It was a stupid mistake.”

“Sure, sure,” the brunet said, smiling and waving his hand. “In part, I just wanted to give you a hard time.”

“And the other part?”

“I really felt like shit after the cookie dough.”

As all was forgiven, the two best friends walked into downtown, talking about mundane things, amusing things, and subtly side-stepping questions about the daring exchange of valentines between teenage, male friends. Sora said Riku was brave to give him a valentine, though, and then firmly dropped the subject in favor of others: where to spend their summer vacation. They were halfway through their junior year. Riku was a year older than Sora, but his birthday was either too late or too early in the year to join kindergarten at the same time as others.

Riku, Sora, and Kairi’s families lived on the mainland during the school year and traditionally spent most of summer in vacation houses on the Destiny Islands. That was where Sora and Riku first met—at ages five and six, they were inseparable. There were tears and confused tussles on the sand when the end of summer drew near, but fortunately they wound up living in the same town. Sora’s family moved into a house two streets away from Riku’s. They were best friends ever since, even after the somewhat upsetting installment of Kairi a couple years later. Well, it was upsetting from Riku’s perspective, for in his chaotic child’s mind, he vaguely understood the trend that boys liked girls and eventually boys partnered with girls. Back then, Riku didn’t know why he was jealous and uneasy about Kairi, but his feelings were aroused from a subconscious notion that one day Sora would choose a girl like Kairi over Riku. The silver-haired boy’s fears weren’t unfounded, for anyone could see an innocent, instinctual, rudimentary form of puppy-love between the brunet and the redhead.

Fortunately, it passed. Sort of. On and off, Sora and Kairi would shoot dewy looks at each other over the trunk of the paopu tree, but in between these periods, Sora sidled up to Riku. In an I-still-don’t-know-what-sex-is-but-I-feel-butterflies-when-I’m-close-to-you way.

Gradually, Riku warmed up to Kairi. His insecurities about her diminished somewhat around age eight or nine, which was around the time that Sora started holding his hand when they explored or walked along the beach. Sometimes, Sora would hold Kairi’s hand, too, but Riku was all right because he had this privileged contact more often than she did. Riku still didn’t understand sex at that age and he wouldn’t grasp developed sexuality for a few years, yet holding Sora’s hand evoked warm, fluffy feelings in his body, sensations which tickled his lips and made him smile brilliantly.

Years passed, and after the tumultuous development of first noticing— really noticing—girls had breasts and hips and boys had broad shoulders and muscles, the trio met Roxas and Axel. The two newcomers in town moved in just before freshman year of high school. The five of them bonded rather quickly.

While Riku, Sora, and Kairi usually spent their summers on the Destiny Islands, they were introduced to Twilight Town, to which Roxas and Axel’s families habitually spent the summer months. The families talked, generally liked each other, and soon every school year was spent deciding whether they should next vacation on the Destiny Islands or in Twilight Town.

Sora was leaning towards Twilight Town. While a relatively new place appealed to Riku, he still had missed the Destiny Islands, or perhaps he just feared losing interest in what he considered his childhood home. His best childhood memories were there, and though Riku would be in college in two years, he didn’t want to grow out of the Destiny Islands because that would mean he was growing up. There was still a tender, sentimental part of Riku that sorely wanted time to slow down, just for a while, so he could experience that part of his life once more. It didn’t help that Sora seemed ready to jump and leave that part of their lives behind.

They didn’t know where Kairi wanted to go, yet. And Roxas and Axel, born in a busier life than the sleepy, peaceful tropics, liked the Destiny Islands but weren’t overly keen on them.

Eventually, Riku took the conversation in a different direction.

“My parents want me out of the house next weekend. Can I stay at your house?”

“Yea, sure,” Sora said, nodding with the last of a grape popsickle in his mouth. “Why do they want you out?”

The silver-haired male shrugged.

“I guess my parents think they can’t have sex while I’m around.”

~*~

In the small foyer of Axel’s house, the redhead was excitedly tearing apart several large cardboard boxes. His mum was leaning against a wall, idly sipping tea from a mug as she watched, amused at her only son’s fervor.

She recognized the crazed look in his eyes—it ran in the family. Her son was in love. Or something like it.

Tissue paper, Styrofoam peanuts, an bubble wrap were flying everywhere. A few peanuts landed in Axel’s hair, skewered by the fine points of his fiery spikes. He squealed delightedly in a way that was like Axel and not at all effeminate. He held up one garment after another—cowboy hat, leather boots, tasseled jacket, trousers, belts, gun holsters, and shirts—all in black. He even got a few extra pairs of spurs. Axel pranced around his house like a ninny for the next half hour, modeling his new clothes for his mother, who loved him very much and esteemed her son as her greatest source of amusement in life.

Still euphoric, Axel called up Sora to tell him to come over so he could see his new Cowboy Crap ™.

“Why me?” came Sora’s disinterested voice from the earpiece. “I’m not Roxas.”

“But you’re Sora, so you, like, equal Roxas.”

“Um.”

There was silence for a long, horrifying moment. And that moment was horrifying because Sora suspected, correctly, that Axel was thinking.

“Axel…?” he asked worriedly. “What just crossed your mind…?”

“God, it’s perfect! You and I could—“

“Axel, I’m not going to mess around with you to make Roxas jealous.”

“Do you think it would, though??”

“No. It’d make him pissed.”

“But Sora! Pleeeeeeeease?”

“No.”

“Come on, I can pay—“

Suddenly, Axel heard the sounds of a phone swapping hands. The next voice that came through was Riku’s, and he did not sound even remotely like a pacifist.

“Yo, flaming tree: Sora is not going to touch you, kiss you, fuck you, or act like Roxas for you now, or in this lifetime.”

There was a click; the call ended. Axel sighed and shrugged. He’d find someone else with whom he could show off. He created a mental checklist of his friends that would hang out with him and…ergh. Roxas was avoiding him, so that left Kairi.

Axel paled and drooped. He just remembered that Roxas was his only really good friend.

Meanwhile, Sora was panicking over the homicidal look in Riku’s eyes.

~*~

Roxas was lying on his bed in his room, taking a break from reading Charles Dickens’ Oliver Twist. As much as he loved this book, he wasn’t in the mood to read anymore. He kept thinking about Axel, Axel and himself, and the knowledge of betraying his best friend. He didn’t want to abandon Axel, but he was afraid.

Hide and seek.
Trains and sewing machines—
All those years;
They were here first.

Roxas wasn’t insecure, but he knew he couldn’t withstand a crush of stares of strangers without a friend. He wasn’t yet convinced that, as a person, what he personally liked or didn’t like wasn’t wrong or weird, or that the world with all its majority votes couldn't determine otherwise. Roxas wasn’t ready for judgment; he didn’t have the experience, confidence, or rough scar tissue to suffer patronizing glares, overcritical analyses, and judgment and honestly believe himself when he said, “Know what? I’m fine, I’m not wrong. Fuck you.”

Hide and seek,
Trains and sewing machines.
Oh, you won't catch me around here.
Blood and tears--hearts;
They were here first.

Roxas needed someone who didn’t judge him. That person happened to be Axel. The blond was grateful and depended on Axel to be the one pair of eyes that didn’t give a second thought to his veiled areas of weakness and his embarrassing notions, tender to the touch. The close friendship between Roxas and Axel was forged on safety and the trust that, between the two of them, judgment did not exist; rejection, revulsion, and disgust did not exist. Roxas needed that safety. He was surprised to realize, then, the enormous comfort that Axel’s friendship had for him.

Roxas wasn’t a congealing mass of tears and ‘woe is me’ sentiments. He wasn’t a cutter, and he didn’t have depression.

He was just…human. Human, with human insecurities, and human needs. And at some point in a human’s life, he or she needs someone on their level who makes them feel right.

His thoughts were interrupted when he felt his cell phone vibrating. It was a text message from Kairi.

‘Dude, Axel’s gone dippy. I mean dippier than usual. He ordered a shitload of cowboy stuff online. I think he’s trying to one-up Hayner.’

Roxas, unconcerned, wrote back, ‘He’d need a bigger handbag.’

~*~

So that was chapter three. I was so happy to do a little less “light” writing. Thank you for reading! As always, your reviews are loved.

“Where are we? / What the hell is going on? / The dust has only just begun to form / Crop circles in the carpet— / Sinking feeling.” – “Hide and Seek” by Imogen Heap. Speak for Yourself album.

“Hide and seek. /Trains and sewing machines— / All those years; / They were here first. / Hide and seek, / Trains and sewing machines. / Oh, you won't catch me around here. / Blood and tears (hearts); / They were here first.” – “Hide and Seek” by Imogen Heap. Speak for Yourself album.

“She will not stay the siege of loving terms…Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold.” – Romeo and Juliet, Act 1, scene 1, by William Shakespeare. Lines 220-222.