:.I Love the Way You Lie.:

I guess we were just fed up at that point.

I mean, I've been frustrated at him before. He's a hassle. An ungrateful brat who doesn't see how well he has it. Impulsive, pessimistic, headstrong... Any normal human would backhand the kid at some point.

But no, not me. There are those- Like him, as obvious as my situation makes it- who will take their frustrations out through violence. But I can't be bothered...Or, at least I had thought so. My heart just wouldn't have been in it, you know? But this doesn't have much to do with the reason behind the fact that the two of us are blade-to-blade, screaming in each other's faces while we fight.
...Actually, scratch that. It has a lot to do with it.

Each day is the same. We go to Memory Skyscraper and eat ice cream, and he talks about how hollow he is. This leads to him complaining about how miserable this makes him, and I can't help it- every single time, I laugh. You can't be made miserable if you don't have a heart, I tell him. Then he gets mad. Due to him not being able to take a joke, I get frustrated. And then we argue. Eventually, he leaves. I'm left there to wonder why, exactly, I still put up with him. I contemplate just ignoring him forever, cutting as many ties as possible that can be cut when you work for the same asshole. I wonder, how is it that we get drawn back to each other, time and time again? And I call myself an idiot, because it's just a fucked up cycle of act and react, and I keep bringing myself to it.

Then I open a portal to his room, slip into the bed quietly, and when he turns over and slips his tiny arms around my waist, I realize why I continue to come back. I always forget in the morning, though. Like an amazing dream that flees the minute you wake up. The cycle repeats, with the seldom thrown in absolutely perfect day where everything is right and both of us are happy.

Again, today started the same, sitting on the stairs of the sky scraper, eating ice cream. But when he mentioned his hollow feeling, I changed tactics. "Roxas, you can't possibly be hollow," I say. "If you were hollow, if you didn't have a heart- mine wouldn't beat, and I would be hollow too. "
He glared at me. His question was sharp; obviously rhetorical: "So, what. You're saying we have hearts? You're saying that we're "special", that what we are is proof that we can feel?"
"That's exactly what I'm saying," I retort firmly. He scoffs.
"Bullshit, Axel.... You know full well that if you died, I wouldn't care. I couldn't care if I wanted. Just because we're doing this... Doesn't mean that I feel anything for you. You're not a miracle. We're not a miracle. We're just two people..." He grabs my gloved hand almost sweetly, threading his fingers with mine, but his voice gives away his ulterior thoughts, "who use each other to fill a void that's never going to be filled any other way. You mean nothing else to me."
Even for Roxas, his reply was harsh. It shocked me. I've never felt anything like it before; this sudden rush, this pang of... pain. Intense enough to stop my breathing for a moment. His words...
... They hurt.
You.... mean that, don't you? My voice is accusing. Sharpened from betrayal. No, I wasn't frustrated. I was dead-set angry. "So what we have is a game to you, huh?!"
Roxas laughs. Hard. It's a harsh, mocking sound, and it cuts at me. "Isn't everything a game to you?! You sound so... cheated. I thought you were the thoughtless assassin! The guy who does the icky work!" Quickly his voice switches to anger. "Of all of us?! You above all else are the least likely to have a heart!" It was as if even the thought of me questioning if I had a heart made his blood boil, as if I didn't deserve to even entertain the idea.
This flashed red into my thinking. "So you're any better? I go on my missions and when I come back, you whine about how I wasn't there- and then you fuck off with that Xion bitch?! Fuck you, you sack of hypocrisy! I'm done with this shit!"

I fell to the side step. My cheek stung. For a fifteen year old, the little prick sure could punch hard. I shot a glare his way, but it never made its mark. I had to follow the slate, cold blade of Oblivion up to meet his gaze.
"Get the hell up." He commanded. At this point, I wasn't about to take any orders from him. Lowering my head, I shifted my hands further apart. They would need the room.
"How about... you get the hell back down?!" A flash of fire and a swipe to his ankles was all that it took to get him to jump away, a surprised sound escaping his lips. I couldn't get onto my feet quick enough, and he descended his blades upon me. I raised my chakrams, successfully holding him off with ease. His own momentum bowed himself over me, but unfortunately it was also working to his advantage. He grinned a terrible grin, shoving his blades down. "I can't. My "heart" is telling me to shove these things up your--" He didn't get to finish the end of his sentence. My kick to his stomach made sure of that. Being a kid, he went flying. His back made a sickening, anticlimactic thud when he hit the ground. He was quick to get up, though, which was fine; so was I. And then we went at it, uninhibited and passionate.
And by went at it, I unfortunately do not mean "screwed like rabbits."
Our weapons swiped, flew, made one and the other bleed. Fire lit up the makeshift arena, only making our attacks that much more deadly. I suppose we had both had enough. As I dodged swipes and caught them, retaliating and defending, I fantasized that we would both drop our weapons and just hold onto each other, never letting go. But this never happened. While picking at this thought almost idly, Roxas kicked me in the stomach and knocked me on my back. My chakrams went flying. I suppose I deserved it, and just as I was about to open my mouth to point this out good-naturedly, I found him over me. The look in those sharp sapphire eyes was haunting. It sent chills down my spine. With a dark glare, he raised Oblivion. I didn't even have a chance to make a sound of panic. White-hot pain flashed in front of my eyes. My body screamed at me; get it out get it out it's in your HEART it's going to make it stop beating oh god you're bleeding make it stop please PLEASE. But more than the physical pain hurt was the pain that came from knowing that he had willingly stabbed me. Without a second debilitating thought. He took on a look that I couldn't read -though that might have been due to my vision going blurry from blood loss-, and as he walked away from the scene, he muttered,

"See, Axel?
I told you we don't have hearts."



Axel's eyes flicked open, gasping for breath as if he had just avoided drowning. His hand felt over his heart, skin sticking to clammy skin as his trembling fingertips searched for the gouging wound that wasn't there. Kicking himself back slightly, free hand strangling the sheets as he propped himself up, he let himself take in the surroundings of the cool, dark room. The evening's silence was haunting at first, but as his ears adjusted, it soothed his heavily-beating heart slightly.
A lump of blanket and mussed, blonde hair stirred. Tiny hands shifted out from underneath the blankets, fingers feeling across Axel's knee before the lump raised its head. Startling, drowsy sapphire met panicked, chartreuse green, and he let out a non-commental hum before propping himself up on the side of his elbow, using the headboard to pull himself into a sitting position. "Axel... You had it again, didn't you?"
Axel in turn glanced away. His unkempt red locks swayed slightly as he did so, his eyes locking on the Mickey Mouse clock hanging above the doorway. 3:18 a.m. He swallowed hard; he needed to stifle his fear. He couldn't let Roxas worry more than he already was. Be strong, firecracker, he told himself. Returning his gaze to Roxas, he grinned, but he could feel it: the fear was still written on his face, and even if it wasn't, his heart had to have been beating loud enough for Roxas to hear. "Yeah. I'm good though. I mean," he brought Roxas's hand to his chest, feeling Roxas's fingertips relax against the place where his heart was, "It's still beating, and it's still there.
Immediately Roxas's eyes hardened slightly, and he sat up taller, pulling Axel into a slightly awkward, though well intended, embrace, stroking his fiery red hair. "I apologize on behalf of dream-me. He needs to be back-handed." Roxas's soft laugh echoed in Axel's ears, filling him with a sense of calm. Axel laughed back almost hesitantly, his shoulders relaxing.
"If I slap your butt, will dream-you feel it and learn his lesson?" the redhead's laugh turned a bit sharper, mischeviously tackling the blonde to the bed.
Roxas yelped with a loud laugh. "Axel! No, you dummy!" His hand pressed against Axel's forehead stubbornly, attempting to shove him away childishly. The redhead retorted in turn by creeping his fingers against Roxas' stomach feverishly. Axel relished in the loud squealy sound the blonde emitted, flailing and kicking helplessly as Axel sat himself upon the blonde's hips. As his struggling became more disorganized, Axel leaned in closer, grinning wildly. Their eyes met, tickling slowing, flailing falling to a small stir, and their lips pressed together warmly, Roxas's arms slipping over Axel's shoulders, Axel's hand resting on the blonde's hip and his free elbow propping above the blonde's head to support him. They held the kiss, pressing smaller ones in between them. Axel hummed with content.
"Hm?" Roxas quipped, eyes flicking open in curiosity.
"I'm just glad." Axel murmured against the other's lips.
"Hm? Why?" the blonde asked, voice softened with affection. Axel grinned cordially.
"That this is the reality, and the dream isn't. Dream-me is whipped like a dog, man."
~

WOAH SO MUCH WORK.
So I figured I'd whip you guys up a quick doodle to sit your akuroku fetish a little (after all, that's what I'm here for right? >;D That's mostly why you guys watch me. ).
This is your doodle.
So yeah! This is my second real attempt at photoshop with a tablet () And I would like to think that it turned out pretty well. :'D I'm actually proud of it like no one's business, even if there are stupid things that're wrong with it- Like the weapons and some face shading and I can't color blood etc etc, but :'33 I dunno. I thought I did a pretty good job. This was definitely motivated by "Love the Way You Lie" By Eminem ft. Rihanna. Except there's no tieing-to-the-bed-and-set-this-house-on-fire business. >n> Um, the lighting is off in areas, there's parts of the background that aren't colored in right, and Oblivion's perspective is incorrect. Overall though, I'm pretty happy with it. This took.. sixteen hours to color? With a tablet and photoshop CS3. Aaaand I guess that's it!

Alternate title: What happened when Axel asked for buttsecks.

Faves and comments are suuuuuper appreciated, sons! :'D Download if you want a super-close view; There's a lot of detail!