Author's Note: Well, it's about time that I posted this thing. The idea has been haunting me for freaking WEEKS. I don't even want to know how many random scenes and ideas I have written down on my little blue post-it notes from this thing. Anyhow. Oh, and writing in Axel's POV is a bit different than Roxas' I found. I'll have to get used to it a bit.

Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts and I never shall. And I'm just going to put this here, because I don't want to have to think of a witty disclaimer for EVERY SINGLE chapter.

Warning: Boy on boy love. Hot stuffs a bit later on. And more hot stuff. It IS set to mature, just so you know.

Summary: All Axel wanted was a job until someone else's dreams became his own. Then that blond kid had to come in. But those eyes… he could have sworn he had seen those before.

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Just Business

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Chapter 1

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"We were mistakes. We were never meant to live."

Two sets of black boots trudged meaninglessly down the sterile and barren hallway, too many shadows haunting the corridors of the castle that should never have been. But it was, as the nobodies were. The empty noises spoke of more destitution; and of the void, which the pair could discern within their still chests.

"That's not true." The silky voice responded to the dull statement, emerald eyes not looking to the wild blond spikes he knew were not but a few short feet from where he walked.

But he couldn't turn away from the lifeless azure that split his soul when the nobody turned to him. If he had a soul, that is. "Then what is the truth?"

A sigh. Long fingers scraped through crimson spikes. Again with the questions. Why did he always ask the questions? "You know I can't answer that."

The blond stilled his steps, the other drawing himself up beside him. "We are nobodies." Eyes were concealed behind a curtain of bangs. He repeated, "We were mistakes." He was simply restating the truths he knew.

"That doesn't mean that we have to stop living." A hand fell to the petit shoulder; the redhead felt it tense beneath his glove before relaxing once more, "We are still alive, Roxas."

A mirthless chuckle bubbled up from the blond, "Who is to say that we are even that?" His hand came to press on his own chest, "We aren't supposed to feel anything." Empty blue rose to meet deceiving green, "I can't feel anything." Green turned savage.

The gloved hand not clasping Roxas' shoulder took a fist-full of blond locks and whipped the young nobody around none too gently, while grasping his wrist in a vice-like grip, wrenching the frail-looking arm behind and up the blond's back.

Roxas cried out in surprise and pain.

"Do you feel this?" Dark words whispered behind a delicate ear.

The blond's throat worked around the gasps of pain before he managed to speak, "Axel, what the hell! You're hurting me!" But the redhead simply responded by wrenching the captive arm further up, receiving a second cry of agony. Axel could feel the muscles strain and stretch – could almost feel the bones longing to bend and break. The blond tried to struggle, but his efforts were in vain.

Axel released Roxas in his own time, each wither of agony from the blond before the release costing the redhead much more than the other could have imagined. Roxas' knees gave way as the grip was removed, firm arms wrapping about him before he fell to the cold tile. His back was pressed up flush to a chilled and empty chest, constricted in arms that were now only meant to comfort.

The redhead's voice was low and softly incredulous, "How can you not feel anything?"

Roxas twisted in his grasp and shoved at the chest he was against, successfully dislodging himself from the contact that was all too frail to begin with; empty and furious eyes locking on dull emerald. He screeched out four simple words that would have hurt someone who had a heart to break, "Get away from me!" Realization dawned on the blond a moment too late, and the words had already been spoken. It was no matter that they could not tear at a heartless being, but neither could deny that there was something between them, no matter how impossible it was made to seem, "Axel, I didn't-"

"We can feel, you just don't allow yourself to." Darkness formed at the redhead's boots, a gloved hand covering Roxas' hollow chest. It was strangely warm, the un-beating and barren cage, "I can feel." The portal opened and took him away, the warmth from the sweet breast still present as the darkness consumed him.

000

Axel woke, as he always did from these dreams, with a chill deeply embedded beneath his lungs. He pressed a hand to the cold and felt a lingering warmth in his hand. His heart thundered in his ears and felt uncomfortable in its pounding against his ribcage. Tears stung his eyes, but not enough to flow.

"Shit," was hissed in the near-dark room, adorned with draping black and red cloth against the otherwise barren walls, his voice constricted from the tears caught in his emerald eyes from an impossible life that he lived within his dream. He scrubbed at his eyes in vain; the sense of never-shed tears still lingering. He was dully glad of the tattoos that stained his cheeks, as compensation for the salt that would never reach them. At least he could feel, unlike his self in his dreams. He was always himself, or rather, another version of him. Colder and desperate for something, but the goal was never singular.

But then there was another. Who was that blond in his dream? Why could he never remember that face when he woke? But those eyes… colder than ice. He didn't even remember the name that was buzzing though his mind for the entirety of the dream. He felt as if he were boiling and freezing at once.

That was when Axel's alarm decided to blare off into his ear – some rock station that he had never bothered to change that seemed to be perpetually stuck on about five songs. Not that his swirling mind caught the music in the morning. Especially after one of those dreams.

Axel looked at the time. 6:00 AM. What ungodly creature invented that ungodly hour? Wait, six in the morning? That could only mean-

The redhead groaned and pulled a hand through his tousled red mane. Fuck it all to Hell. He had work.

Could this day get any better?

000

Apparently it could.

First of all, being an administrative assistant to a consulting company had never really been one of Axel's aspirations. Sure, he liked to talk on the phone and rank up the minutes on his cell phone bill and he did it whenever possible. But that was when he was talking with his bloody friends. At work, he answered the phones and answered the stupidest questions from the clients. And he filed papers. And he drank coffee. At least he got his own hole-in-the-wall office with a door, unlike the poor souls stuck in the cubicles just outside. He was just glad that he could jerk-off behind his desk without anyone noticing.

But this particular day, he was hit by a particularly large and particularly unpleasant bomb.

Axel's day was going rather smoothly until The Boss, The Man (or Dude), Ciddie-Widdie, or Top Asshole – otherwise known as Cid Highwind, Axel's boss and the top executive in the building, decided to unload the tax information for the whole fucking company onto the ever so delighted redhead's desk. Said filing consisted of three boxes – not those flimsy few-inch tall ones; we're talking about free-cute-puppy-take-one-sized boxes – filled to the brim with nicely stacked tax reports and company spending for the past year. Axel could almost see his not-so-snazzy and tired desk sag under the weight.

To Axel's most expected surprise, there was no logical order to the papers. What. So. Ever. Leave it to Ciddie-Widdie to leave papers scattered fucking everywhere and then put them all in one spot and make the underpaid assistant sort it all out. The boxes towered over him as he sat on his not-quite-executive-level-of-comfy-ness rolly chair, the mildly impressed administrative assistant staring blankly at the work.

Damn. So much for looking up porn today.

Well, the boxes were definite eyesores. Good thing Axel had the looks to keep that stuffy office alive, or else these colossuses would have peeled the paint right off the walls, along with the remainder of his ever-so-carefully trimmed eyebrows.

So Axel set to work, juggling the tasks of stuffing papers into chronological order and answering the calls that streamed in. Damn it all, did all of the prank calls get forwarded to him? He really should put in a note at the next meeting about reducing the number of television commercials they put out. Really, do you need to inform people watching a re-run marathon of Dancing with the Stars that they could be getting more customers for their businesses, optimize their commercializing, and manage their spending?

Highly. Doubtful. You. Shitheads.

Not that Axel would ever say that to the Top Asshole's face. His job was already dangling because of his two Monday mornings in the past month when he had run slightly late with a bitch of a hangover. So, Axel didn't risk too much. Which meant no more pranks dealing with bathrooms with Demyx, who had gotten him into this hell of a job in the first place. Some friend he was. So Axel's lack of mischief reduced his rebellion to, 'Hey, I don't feel like un-clicking my pen before I put it back in my desk, and I won't use a coaster on my desk for my coffee. What'cha gonna do about it, punk?'

So Axel organized, keeping his mind occupied by searching for spending frauds. Oh, hey, someone paid for a fancy dinner. And look, a first-class ticket to… Las Vegas? Axel's gaze wandered down that particular page and found another unspecified charge. A smirk crossed his features. Well, someone had had a little fun.

Now, this was the most fun he had had at work since he was hired – that and when he and Demyx had teamed up and together they had managed to clog up every toilet in every woman's restroom on their floor as well as the two floors below theirs. Now, that had been pretty fun. Axel was pretty sure they were still having some moisture and mold problems in the floors.

He continued through the papers. More stupid records of bulk office supplies bought. And then one caught his attention. A three dollar charge for… flavored condoms? That one Axel had to laugh out loud at. So that's why he hadn't been charged for them. And he had assumed that the cute and obviously closeted guy at the grocery store had just given him the slip. Axel crumpled up the paper and stuffed it in his pocket. Hey, it was only three dollars, right? Who had to know? The redhead resolved to put three extra dollars in the bagel money box on his afternoon break.

It took Axel two hours to finish organizing the first box, the documents paper-clipped according to the date and whether it was a tax report or a company spending record. Minus his own record, of course. The redhead was all too thrilled to get that box the hell out of his office. Well, it would have helped if he had been able to actually make it all the way out of his doorway before he hit a most unfortunate brick wall. Scratch that – it was a train going full-fucking-throttle through the hallway. Holding one of those cardboard coffee holders with piping-hot mochas and cappuccinos, just as luck would have it. Axel barely saw a wisp of blond before a wide arc of said hot beverage flew through the air, followed closely by the box of papers that had suffered the brunt of the collision. Needless to say, the box ended up empty and the floor very cluttered by its contents, two bodies, and more coffee than should have ever been possible to cram into those freaking cups. Except… those papers weren't supposed to help sop up the coffee, but they were doing a damn good job. And so was Axel's shirt.

This whole scene was taken in by the redhead, currently recovering from his intimate meeting with the floor. Damn, he was going to have a bruise somewhere that wasn't very attractive.

"Shit." His hands flew to the papers, trying his best to salvage as much as he could from the wicked staining liquid. It was only then that he heard the frantic apologies spewing from the train that had wrecked almost on top of him. Axel didn't even spare a glance at the fucking cause of the disaster, muttering colorful profanity as he scrambled.

A second set of hands set to work beside him, the streaming apologies continuing. That was when Axel decided to acknowledge the other's presence.

"Dude, shut the fuck up and get some paper towels. You want forgiveness? Take it up with The Boss." Now, that was Axel being extremely ticked off, sleep-deprived, and annoyed at all of his hard work gone to waste. He'd be lucky if he didn't have to stay and work overtime for the next fucking week.

The blond stopped moving. But he didn't leave. Smoldering green whipped to glare at the cause of the mess and he saw blue. Blue like… woah, blue. And he froze as well. Rumpled blond spikes, cerulean blue eyes, mouth agape and just staring stupidly.

It was… eerie, the way he just stared, completely frozen like a deer in the headlights. And yet, Axel couldn't help but stare right back at those wide crystal blue eyes.

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He felt a smirk cross his face, "What're you looking at, kid?

Curious blue gave way to smoldering cerulean, "Fuck off, I'm not looking at anything." The redhead's smirk grew. Well, of course he hadn't been looking at anything, because he had been looking at a nothing.

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A chill passed through Axel's chest. And there was those blue eyes again, awestruck and just as he remembered them to- Wait. Remembered? What the fuck? He had never seen this stupid kid before in his life. And that kid was pissing him the fuck off and he was not joking or freaking flirting with him. Damnit.

Axel broke the moment by turning towards a more fucking pissed-off demeanor, disregarding whatever the hell had just passed through his mind, "Paper towels. Now, you little-" he was never able to finish, the blond standing and tearing down the hallway like there was some kind of devil at his ankles.

Thankfully, only a few of the papers were soaked and the rest were just spattered by the spilled coffee. The carpet would be a bitch to clean, but that wasn't his problem. Now all that was left was to… put the papers back in order.

Fuck. It. All. To. Hell.

The blond returned with a fist-full of paper towels, which were taken by a now savage redhead, and all other offers to help were shot down, the redhead not gracing the kid with a second glance.

He gathered the papers into his arms – not caring that they further stained his best white work shirt and his favorite black and red checkered tie – and locked himself in his office, ignoring the continuing apologies still spewing from the blond. Axel didn't emerge from his office until his lunch break, looking both ways for coffee-transporting trains before he dared leave his sanctuary from Hell.

Axel ignored the comments about his stained shirt – "Hey Axel, your mouth is a bit higher up," "Going for the grunge look, huh?" "Dude, what's eating your chest? Looks like some kind of gremlin." And so on.

Demyx joined him, and damn, did that blond get an earful of bitching from Axel, lasting for almost the entirety of their lunch break.

"Why don't you give him some slack, Ax? He's probably new," Demyx reasoned over his caesar salad.

Axel scowled, expression not well-hidden behind his sandwich, "Does it look like I care?"

His friend just rolled his eyes, "Well, what does he look like? Maybe I've seen him before."

"He's a little shrimp with a fucking pouty face. And he has blond hair that looks like it hasn't been combed since yesterday morning." Axel took a swig of his root beer.

Demyx grinned, "You have that in common."

Axel's jaw dropped, "Like you have any right to say anything concerning hair, Dem." A smirk broke out on the handsome face as the blond ducked away from his hair-threatening hand.

"Hey, don't take your inability to style your hair out on me," the blond brandished his plastic salad fork. Said action caught Axel, who burst into laughter.

"What, you going to try and comb my hair with that?" Demyx narrowed his gaze and scowled, which was more of a pout for him, before giving a wicked grin.

"No, but I'd be happy to fork your eyes out for you." The blond's grin widened as Axel jumped back from the utensil. He then dove into his sandwich and pulled out a half-eaten slice of meat. Blue eyes flew open and a wild look crossed Axel's face.

"Bologna," he whispered menacingly, shaking the meat like a Polaroid picture, shoving it into Demyx's face, who cringed. Axel continued, voice getting stronger as he went, "My Bologna has a first name, It's O-S-C-A-R. My bologna has a second name, It's M-A-Y-"

"Oh, God, not the mystery meat from Hell song! Take it away!" Demyx squirmed in his chair, trying his best to shove the offending cold cut away without actually touching said meat. Axel simply continued to grin, but took a big bite out of the bologna, effectively grossing the hell out of his friend. "God, how can you eat that crap, Axel?"

"Easy. You bite and chew." To annunciate that fact, he finished off the slice. "It's really not that fantastic, but watching your reaction makes it all worthwhile."

"I knew there was a reason why I went vegetarian when I was thirteen. It was that stupid hotdog commercial. Fucking bologna." Demyx stabbed his salad with his fork savagely, relishing in the non-meatiness of it.

Axel grinned. He liked fucking bologna. But not the kind that he had just been eating. The redhead crammed his sandwich into his mouth to keep his dirty thoughts to himself and to prevent the corruption of his friend. Though, Demyx had pretty much already been fully corrupted by him.

They finished their lunches with some minor bantering and went back to the office, where Axel continued bitching and complaining to himself in his closed workspace. The two remaining boxes still towered on his desk, just waiting to get tackled.

Axel let out a groan before shoving the next set into his arms.

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End Notes: What do you think so far? It's a bit different than my other fic, no? Leave a review and get brownie points, my darlings!