fic: kiss off (original) (raw)

Title: Kiss Off
Pairing or Primary Characters: AkuRoku, others
Genre/Rating: Drama/Romance/ Humor/ T
Summary: Roxas is a street rat skateboarding delinquent an inch and a half from juvie. Axel is the guy he lives with on a bargain with the law.
Notes: Somewhat AU next life with heavy FFXII allusions. Click the chapter title for song download.

III. Come Out and Play

As soon as the cigarette was lit, I watched the tiny flame dancing on the tip of my finger. In Rabanastre only a handful of people were lucky enough to still have magic in their blood. It worked out for me that I never had to carry a lighter around.

Xigbar had called me. We had a gig. Three song set as usual. We’d be done by ten and I probably wouldn’t stick around.

Roxas kept his door closed.

“You could get arrested, you know,” was Larxenes’s retort when I mentioned it. She didn’t get it, but then again, I didn’t expect anyone to.

“But he’s not a minor and it’s consensual, right?” Demyx cut in.

“I don’t know if consensual is the word...” I muttered. If Roxas wanted me, he didn’t show it in the usual way, didn’t care one way or another.

(*)

“They’re called Naked Lunch,” Kytes said.

“How can you be sure?” I asked.

“I saw a poster in Lowtown,” he said. “He’s got red hair, right?”

I nodded. For the past week I’d been unable to shake the muffled sound of Axel’s singing voice from the other side of the bathroom door.

Kytes pulled a pamphlet from his back pocket. “There’s a pub in the North End that has live music. Naked Lunch is scheduled for tonight.” He handed it over, thumbnail pressed to the nine o’clock slot. I scanned the whole thing, finally finding a few tiny lines of text crammed at the bottom of the fold:

Naked Lunch managed by Xigbar Fault

Xigbar was a name I recognized. Axel spent most of the day waiting for calls from that guy. I fished a five gil note out of my pocket. “Buy yourself a sea salt ice cream or something,” I praised him.

“Can I come with you to the North End?” he asked, too excited to even care about the munny.

I was pretty sure the place would be strictly eighteen and over, but I shrugged and grunted a mostly affirmative.

We headed to the skate park. Hayner was nowhere to be found. Annoyed, I hoped he wasn’t off picking a fight with Seifer. I stuck to the halfpipe, Kytes eating his ice cream sitting at the edge of the bowl.

“Hey, Roxas!”

Sora ran over, apologetic smile in place. Stung, I realized that without me he had less to worry about. Knowing that I was in the care of someone legit seemed to do it for him.

“Riku went to Radiant Garden to visit his dad today. I thought I’d come find you.” He made a move to hug me, but I weaved out of it, embarrassed and guilty about my plan to sneak into Cid’s to hear Axel sing.

Sora wasn’t a skater, but he borrowed a board from someone and tried to learn some things from me before he had to leave, having promised to pick up a night shift at the grocery store where he worked.

“Be careful, okay?” he warned as a parting. The guilt sprang up again, but I squashed it down. I had to know what Axel’s voice really sounded like.

Kytes reappeared as I walked through South Plaza and tagged along, neither of us sure exactly where Cid’s was. We followed a knot of older kids and found ourselves in the North End, close to Lowtown.

Kytes grabbed me and pulled me into a throng of people queuing up in front of an out of the way place, and as soon as I heard the tuning up strums of a guitar, I knew we were in the right place. We ducked the doorman and slipped into a crowded dark room.

The second I saw Axel step onto the stage a pair of rough hands seized my left shoulder. Kytes was had, too; his solid frame jerked back, wheat blonde hair shifting over his forehead. “This pub’s eighteen and over, kids,” the burly man growled, dragging us back into the narrow hallway. I twisted out of the hold and tried to bolt, but another wall of a man stopped me.

“ID?” he growled.

“Oh... shit,” I said, relieved, pulling my card out of a pocket. Kytes, three years too young, looked dejected but allowed himself to be kicked out. I grinned after him. Brave, stupid kid. Both of us, really.

The first song started up, and I almost recognized the chorus, but this time it was pumping blood through me.

I killed something vapid something in your face with a smile, so won't you stay a while?

I killed something something that wasn’t mine to kill I’m fine, I’ll be fine, I have you by my side

All around me bodies swelled and breathed as one mass, a crowd dizzy on poor lighting and the charming smile Axel slid in between each line, his voice raw and almost sultry where it was usually nasal and mocking. The bassist, a petite girl with short blonde hair that clung to her skull, fell to her knees toward the end, and was almost pulled off the stage.

“This next song,” Axel’s voice cut across the roar of applause so real it cut through my vocal cords, “This next song was written by me.” There was an awed sort of silence, but no one tore their eyes away from him. He laughed. “I know. I don’t write. So I hope this one doesn’t suck.” He swung his guitar around and hit the strings, erupting an electric chord that shook the moving cell of fifty eight back to life.

I didn’t hear the lyrics. I wish I did. I was too busy listening to the sound of his voice. The song was over and Axel walked offstage for a cigarette break, a small flood of fans gathering around him. He glanced up, exhaled a sickening drag, and locked eyes with me.

(*)

I guess there was a reason I felt the need to bump Ashtray up on the setlist. Roxas took off after I saw him. He was allowed to be there, he wasn’t violating his curfew, but I knew and he knew that those were small, very wrong reasons to leave.

His door was closed, as I knew it would be, so I went out to the balcony and smoked.

“I didn’t really get to hear the song you wrote,” he said from the living room, his tone beckoning me back inside. “It was too loud in there.” He was blushing just enough.

I picked up my acoustic from under the kitchen counter, stepped back out into the dull moonlight of the balcony and the smell of my cigarette, strummed.

Kiss that kid goodbye he’s waiting second hand is choking kid’s waiting for me to die

smoke your eyes out your lungs will break your ashtray heart

He was silent for a long moment once I finished. He nodded. “I like it,” he said.