A few references are dotted around in this fic, even some non-Disney ones, so see what you can find. Let's make it into a fun little game. This fiction is mostly inspired the Victorian era.

Characters/Pairings: Axel-X-Roxas, Lexaeus-X-Zexion. Location: London. Time Setting: During Days/Pre-CoM(No major spoilers.)

Rating/Warnings: M/R - Homosexual smut, swearing, violence.

Story Music: Cemeteries of London by Coldplay.

Taboos of Fine Gentlemen.

Part I.

New Boys in Town.

London is lost in black and grey - A boring looking view from the hills. Buildings are crushed together in a mess of a maze, back-to-back and narrow, bricked streets. Clouds of gigantic, black smog clogs the air up, poisoning poor idiotic birds who dares to fly through. The river is little more then a cesspool, human faeces and bile skimming the water's surface. It is downright ghastly, putrid and diabolical.

It is going to be home. For the next few weeks.

"This is the industrial centre of this world?" Axel half-asks, a little stunned and amused. Roxas does not look so convinced either.

"It looks like a slum" the youngest boy says flat-toned. He turns around to look at Zexion and Lexaeus, who are too looking at the city, in a more scientific matter. "You can't be serious. Us, here, for a long-term surveillance mission?"

The Schemer faces him after a moment. "We will be staying in a more nicer, pleasant place then the rest of London" he reassures the lad. "It's just going to be a bit of walk to get there."

With that said, Zexion throws his bag over his shoulder, leaning the way. Lexaeus is at his heels. The Neophytes are trailing far behind.

"About a month here," Axel hisses, "with the two most stuffiest, tight-assed Elders in the Organization."

"I'm sure Xemnas can bet them" Roxas shrugs, not paying too much attention to his friend, looking out across the field towards the city instead. There was something so dark and menacing about it. Yet there is no Heartless infesting it with their Shadows. It has it's own flavour, and it is bitterly delicious.

"I hope it doesn't get too boring" the redhead sighs, kicking stones out of the way of his path. Roxas grins, and nudges the man's arm.

"Maybe we can make up our own fun" he suggests. Axel's eyes brightened a shade, playful fire dancing in his irises. They exchange devious, naughty-schoolboy smirks. Up front, Zexion stays close to Lexaeus, voice low.

"We are here for a mission" he sighs, rubbing his temple. "For the Organization. Not for a holiday. If those two mess up--"

"Calm, Zexion" Lexaeus soothes, his voice rough. "They will behave."

"How do you know?"

"I'll make them."

Zexion laughs softly, amused. "You want to be the man of authority?"

"Unless you wish to deal with the boys--"

"No, no. You're free to do so." Six sighs deeply. He looks down towards his clothing, his black leather cloak. "We will need to blend in, so we'll need to find a place we can get clothes."

"There must be a few good tailors in this city." The Hero pauses for a moment, casing a studious eye over his companions and himself. They all wear the same uniform, but they all bare different body types - Axel is tall, skinny beyond belief, with long arms and legs, and a overall physique of a sturdy scarecrow. Roxas bares an average, healthy figure for a young man of his age but just a touch small in height. Zexion is a small man too, but far more slender, not as strong-looking or bulky, with rounded shoulders and defined hips. Lexaeus himself is a very tall sir indeed; muscular, titan build, long-legged like Axel and broad across the shoulders and chest. All far and few between. "…Although it would cost a small fortune to fit us all with new made-to-measure outfits, it would be more practical then trolling through deportment stores and such for articles that will suit."

"True. That will a problem." Zexion exhales calmly, shifting his hold of his bag. He looks over his shoulder and furrows his brow. "Hurry up, you two."

Thirteen and Eight speed up their pace slightly, only to fall back again. Far, far away from the Elders as physically possible.

- - -

Once they entered the belly of the City, things didn't look so grim anymore. Everything is big, and grand here in London. The twisting, narrow lanes opened up into wide, cobbled avenues, buzzing with gangs of people going about their normal daily routine.

This is not a city of death and depression, but a place of life, many lives; black carriages pulled by rained stallions clip and rattle down the roads, quack doctors stand on boxes and crying out to the pubic claiming miracles; sooty, barefoot children jump between person and person in playful glee, gypsies dancing on corners in colourful costumes for measly copper pennies.

The shop fronts show-off wide windows of goods from books and to sweetmeats and professions like butchering and shoe-smiths, the business names painted in gold leaf atop of the doors. The place smells of dirty bodies and unhygienic habits, rancid and putrid. Somethings of bad meat. Zexion retches a few times, covering his mouth and nose to protect his over-sensitive nose.

Getting through the crowds without bumping into someone is hard, and brushing off beggars every minute is grown frustrating. With the large, tall Lexaeus in lead position of their little troupe, he easily looks over heads and get them away from the underprivileged areas.

In the shadow of the Houses of Parliament and under the height of the large clock tower - over ten-or-fifteen times bigger then the one in Twilight Town Roxas mentally notes - there are cathedrals, and tall, stone houses and even stretches of grass lawn parks with nice, trimmed rose bushes that Marluxia would have been proud to have.

The people around here are obviously far better off; finely dressed men in waistcoats and polished boot, painted-faced ladies with puffed-up skirts and fans to hide behind. The way the dresses enlarged their hips and the corsets cage their waists and bosoms tightly makes Axel cackle.

"Look at them!" he barks, rudely pointing around. "Their arses are as big as houses!" Zexion gives him a sharp elbowing in the ribs. "Ouch!"

"Behave, Number Eight" the Schemer hisses. "Unless you wish to spend the remainder of the trip conveniently travelling around in my Lexicon."

Axel snorted mockingly, treating the threat as hollow. Roxas sees his friend's point but keeps his opinion to himself.

"So what do we do now?" the boy asks. He looks around the street. Some people pretend to pay no attention to them, others who do give them a glace or two look disapproving, putting their big noses in the air. Because of their plain black, practical clothing and immortal, odd appearances the locals must be considering them lower then them and have better luck fitting in with the poor and hunger. Zexion notices this too.

"We will find a good tailor and have jackets made for us" he says grandly. "The right outfits will help us blend into the backdrop."

"You're kidding, right?" Axel scoffs. "Even in the correct gear, we will still look like a lame travelling circus act to everyone."

Zexion narrows his cold eyes at the fire-wielder "I said it will help. I never said it will help a lot--"

"Like your hair for example" Axel continues, not listening to him. "People around here not just let their fringes hang over their face like that."

"Ha!" Zexion rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest at the man. "And you have room to talk? Your spiky tresses make you look like a porcupine!"

"Hey! At least my hair is--"

"That is enough" Lexaeus grumbles. He stands between the bickering boys promptly, casting stoic, unwavering glares to the both of them which quickly shut them up. "We already stand out so well without you two going at it like cat and dog." He relaxes again, taking a breath. Obviously, he will have to be the voice of reason in this group. Nothing initially new for him to act upon. "Now, apart from my stature, Roxas and I are the only ones who have colouring and looks that can fit in with this World. We will have to find a way make you two less conspicuous."

Zexion sighs with a small nod of his head. "You are right, Lexaeus." He places a hand on the man's arm. "We can't chance the colour, but I guess pinning my bangs back for a while will not hurt. Does anyone else have any useful ideas?"

"…What about one of those awesome hats?" Axel smiles, pointing his long, sharp, ill-mannered finger again, this time towards a elderly gentleman wearing a top hat who so happenings to be walking passed them, minding his own business. Startled by the queer young lad grinning devilishly at him, he walks a good three yards around the men. Lexaeus grabs Axel's wrist and makes him put his arm down to his side.

"Will you stop drawing attention to yourself?" he rumbles raspy.

"I was just showing you what type of hat I want" the Flurry says sulkily, expression akin to a pissed-off five-year olds.

"You don't need a hat, Axel."

"Yeah, but maybe I wanna hat."

Lexaeus narrows his brilliant dark eyes at the redhead, before giving a gruff sigh.

"If we have munny to spare and if, if you behave," he makes the latter point quite clear, "maybe we can find a hat shop and buy a cheap piece of headgear for you." He turns back to Zexion. "Maybe one for you too, to conceal your hair colour."

Zexion nods in agreement. "Of course, but first we have to find a haberdashery."

"Does that mean we have to be measured out with tape-measures and stuff?" Roxas asks, sounding like he doesn't like the idea of a stranger touching his body everywhere with a long piece of material. Zexion smirks evilly at his slightly distressed expression.

"Why, Roxas. Do you have a problem of someone invading your personal space?"

"No!" Roxas says confidently, scowling. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

"Oh, nothing. Just a hunch."

- - -

Savile Row in Mayfair has many shops devoted to gentleman bespoke tailoring, and Gieves and Hawkes - located at number one no doubt - is no different, holding quite a few royal warrants to its name. Mister Darling has been working for the company for a number of decades now, ever since his apprenticeship in his adolescent years. He has served many customers, and is considered to be a good professional at this trade. However, despite his great clientele-relation past, he still has a bad feeling over the quartet of men that have just entered the respectable establishment.

They are indeed a oddly-dressed, mismatched bunch, giving the place a look-over as they step inside. The short greyed-haired fellow who wears his curls in the most distasteful manner steps over to the counter. Although his hair is silvery, Mister Darling can see that, under all the tresses, there is a young-looking, handsome face with clear, beautiful eyes and a great, white-toothed smile, which makes Darling come to the conclusion that the poor boy must have suffered a great amount of stress or a grave sickness in his childhood and greyed far too early. The giant, imposing gent of the group - defiantly the most largest brut Mister Darling has ever seen in his long life - stands behind the smaller man silently, acting like his shadow.

"Good day, sir" the young man says in a friendly tone. "We are need of your services today."

Mister Darling arches a brow at him, then looks over his head towards the two scruffy-looking youths running their gloved fingertips over rolls of expensive material hung up on the wall.

"Um. Would you good sirs please reframe from touching anything?"

The well-built brunet gave them a dark, warning look over his shoulder and the boys backed away, hands clasped behind their backs. Satisfied, Darling breathes again and turns his attention back to the small one that is seemingly in-charge.

"My dear man, I do believe you have the wrong place."

The boy arches his thin eyebrows. "Sorry, I don't understand. Doesn't the sign say "Gentleman's Tailors" outside?"

"Young sir, this is a very fashionable, refined company and I believe people of your… financial position will be better off visiting a department store for your clothing."

Darling gulps slightly, seeing the young man's pale lips thin in a distressed manner and starts to think he had be very much mistaken. The boy relaxes and sighs loudly.

"Payment is not a issues, good man" he says coolly. "We are travellers and these clothes are for just that. We just wish to have waistcoats and jackets made for us."

Travellers? Darling smiles. That would explain their strange looks and accents, and the greyed lad talks with the air of a minor lord at the very least. Maybe his has be mistaken.

"Oops!"

The redheaded lad bumps into a mannequin and it topples over, smothering the blond onto the floor. Mister Darling's eyebrows furrow slightly. Then again, he maybe not.

The giant strides over, brushing the skinny one out of the way, stands the dummy back up on its stand and pulls the child up by the scruff of his coat, setting him back onto his feet in one easy move. He mutters something about behaving and punishment to them, voice like boulders crashing together before returning to his rightful pace behind the leader, like a watchful guard.

"Please excuse them" the small man sighs, "they have behavioural, social issues."

The two boys grumble at him.

"Oh, it's not a problem" Mister Darling insists. "No harm done." He puts his hands together, rubbing his palms. "Now, who would like to do first?"

"Roxas will" the man smiles. The blond boy - Roxas: what a strange name. Must be foreign - raises his head.

"Roxas will what?" he says boorishly.

- - -

Axel actually likes his new treads. They are not bad at all. The black jacket fits like a dream, and his green satin waistcoat is very fine, with tidy silver buttons down the front. He thinks he looks rather dashing, not that he is blowing his own or anything of the sort. Why don't the Organization have uniforms like this?

"Falling in love, are we?" Roxas smirks - also clad in similar clothing with a yellow waistcoat is time - watching the man admiring the image in the full-length mirror. Axel scoffs at him.

"Don't be stupid, Rox. I don't have a Heart to feel love with." He winks at him in the mirror. "However I do have good taste." Roxas snorts with amusement.

"Is there anything else that you require, Mister Read?" the tailor asks Zexion.

"No, no. We have everything we came for, thank you."

"Splendid." Mister Darling steps around the counter and presses a few buttons on his cash register and it rings. "Now there is just the matter of payment."

"Certainly." Zexion turns to face Lexaeus, who is busy stuffing their cloaks into bags. "I do believe you have the purse." The Hero nods, and from the front pocket of his overnight bag produces a pouch for currency. He opens it and pulls out a wad of strange paper munny this World uses, counting out the correct amount for the cost of their outfits. Roxas stares at the small fortune, blue eyes big and shining. He nudges Axel to get his attention and he too stares in surprise. What is the big guy doing with all that cash? That's defiantly not fair on them now, is it? The Elders have been holding out on them.

Lexaeus hands Zexion a small share of the paper munny and the boy in turn hands it to the man at the till.

"This should cover the cost." He nods his head at the elderly man before turning to leave. "Good day to you, sir."

"Thank you, gentlemen," Darling smiles at them as they exit the shop, the bell above it ringing, "do visit again." No soon as they enter the street, Axel turns on Five and Six, brow furrowed.

"Where the hell did you get that dosh from?" he hisses, arms crossed over his chest.

"From the Superior" Zexion says. "Obviously."

"Why didn't he give me and Roxas any?" The fire-wielder is positively fuming now, his face hot with anger. "That's not fair at all."

"Maybe it's because," Lexaeus begins, eyes slightly lidded and already tired because of the lad's attitude, "that you are young and don't really understand or appreciate the value of a coin."

"That is not a very fair to say either" Roxas comments.

"Look. We can discuss this later." Zexion is sneaking passed the question very easily, starting to walk down the street. "I would like to got to our temporary residence before afternoon's end…" He struts away, prouder then a peacock. Lexaeus gives the young boys one final glance before sounding a small grunt and follows Zexion down the road.

"Those two are going to push us around all the time we are here, aren't they?" Roxas asks flatly.

"That little twat." Axel kicks another poor stone on the ground. "Why does Lex follow him around and take all his orders? He could snap Zexion into pieces if he wants too." He looks towards the men in front and cups his hands around his mouth, shouting, "I still want my bloody hat!"

- - -

Their shelter is the top flat within a converted four-story city house, where the attic used to be. There is a living area, with a small kitchenette-like space and some battered armchairs and sofa around the open fireplace. There are three doors - the bathroom and two bedrooms. Zexion holds up a key up to Roxas' face and the boy takes it.

"This is the key to the bedroom you and Axel will be sharing" he tells him, pointing to the bedroom door on the right. "Lexaeus and I will be sharing the other room," he points to the one on the left. "And there are others in this building, so please keep the mischief to a minimum."

"Great!" Axel snatches the key and walks over to the door, shoving it hard into the lock. "I need a break for you two." He pushes the door open with a drawn-out rusty groan and looks around the room - dresser, wardrobe, desk window, rug, double bed. "…There is only one bed?"

"Is that a problem?" Zexion asks, shrugging off his jacket and placing it over the back of a dining-table chair. "I thought that you and Roxas would be sharing a bed. It was cheaper like that anyway, and a couple normally sleep together, right?" Axel and Roxas nervously glance at each other, face paling. The Schemer rolls his eyes. "Honestly. It doesn't take a genius to see that you two are somewhat involved. Lexaeus and I don't really mind about that because it's not of our business." He raises his voice for a moment so Lexaeus can hear his from their bedroom. "Do we, Lexaeus?"

"No" Five calls back. The boys doubted that the man knows what he just agreed to but then again, it's Lexaeus and Zexion. Six turns back to face them. "However, please don't fool around in public. This World frowns upon buggery, sodomy and of the like. The dislike is practiced in their major religion."

"Which religion is that?" Roxas asks with an awkwardly-ached brow and tilts head.

Zexion tries to remember. "Umm, the one were they believe in one almighty God who created everything in a week or something. Then He did things like flooded the place and made a virgin give birth to His so-called mortal son. I read their holy book once. Skimmed through it actually."

"That just sounds stupid" Axel scoffs.

"Well, that is how they live. It's against the law in some places so don't do idiotic things and make fool out of yourselves." The Illusionist walks into his bedroom. "Outside these walls we have an image to uphold, but in the flat we are free to act like our type of normal."

"What the-? Wait. What do you mean by "we" Zexion?" Roxas walks over to the Elder's bedroom and looks inside, where Lexaeus is placing their clothes and belongings into the drawers of the dresser and Zexion settling down on the bed. The room is just like the boy's room, just reflected. Right down the one double bed. "…You are sharing a bed too?"

"Of course," Zexion says. He summons his Lexicon and turns to the pages baring a novel he had imprinted into it the evening before. "We normally do."

"I thought you had your own bedrooms in the Castle" Roxas mumbles, a little dumbstruck.

"Yes. We do, but that don't mean we don't sleep together. Didn't you know that we did? I would have thought that someone in a relationship would work it out of their own."

Roxas blinks out the Illusionist, then over to the Earth Element who just gives his a small nod - he agrees with Zexion.

Axel, who had been all the time listening by the doorframe, pulls a twisted expression akin to a sour lemon.

"That is a bit foolish, isn't it? Having two all-male couples in a place that is against all of that?"

"It's not that the Superior knows" Lexaeus points out. "If he did, Gods only know what he may do. Whoever heard of heartless creatures in solid relationships?"

"Hmm. I guess you have a point, big guy." Axel turns on his heel and walks off toward the other bedroom. "I'm going to scrub up for dinner."

Roxas gives the Elders one more glace, although they are not paying any attention to him anymore - Zexion is just reading now, warped in the story and Lexaeus is in the process of getting dressed for dinner, unbuttoning his shirt to put on a clean one. With a quiet sigh, the boy closes the door behind him and joins Axel in the other room. The redhead is laid out on the bed, long arms folded and tucked behind his head. He looks up at the bare ceiling and not at Roxas. The boy tilts his head then shrugs, dragging his bag from the bed to the dresser to unpack.

"…They better not be loud fucker."

That statement catches Roxas completely off-guard and he turns around sharply, a half-grin on his mouth.

"Axel! What are you--"

"Hey, don't get me wrong." The man sits up, looking at his partner. "What a guy does in the privacy of his own bedroom is his own business. I have nothing against that. I just don't want to hear it. The walls are paper-thin in this place. If they are going to do it, I don't really want to imagine what is going on in there thanks to the noise."

"Okay. Axel, that is really disgusting. Just before we go out of dinner as well." The young lad dumps himself at the end of the bed, his smirk big. "Why would you even think that? You have problems."

"I'm a Nobody. We all have problems." Axel too is grinning now, supporting his head on his arm, legs crossed. "I was just thinking about it."

"You're twisted."

"But that is one of the reason why you dig me, baby" Axel laughs. "Oof!" He gets a face full of duck feather stuffed pillow. Roxas laughs at him.

- - -

London's sky turns bloody as the evening draws in. The crowds have thinned out slightly; most of the local have taking refuge in the pubs and tabors to start on another night of drink and smoky company. The gang of Nobodies snaked through the people together. Axel purses his lips.

"Everyone is staring at me like I'm a bloody freak!" he hisses, giving a elderly woman a glare to make her turn away.

"You will get used to it" Lexaeus grumbles. He knows that people are looking him because of his tremendous stature - the children mostly - but living with this dilemma for all his life (and past life) he don't care anymore. From the back of the troupe, Roxas' stomach growls and he presses his hand against his belly as if that would settle it.

"Are we anywhere near the restaurant yet?" he asks with groan. "I'm starving."

"Ten more minutes if we keep this pace," Zexion reassures him. "Fifteen tops. I think after a good hot meal we will--" He pauses in all movement and everyone else almost bump into one another like dominos.

"What's the hold-up?" Axel snaps, trying to see around the Hero's mass. Lexaeus places a hand on the smaller man's shoulder in front of him, concerned.

"Zexion, what is happening? Have you--"

"Shush." The boy places a finger to his lips. "Do you hear that?"

At first, no, they can't. They don't have senses as defined as the Schemer's so the sound is too far away for them. Then the shouting and screaming builds, and the clattering of fast wooden wheels against the cobblestones of the roads. Suddenly, from around the corner at full, terrifying speed comes a runaway, one-horse hansom carriage, heading in their direction. In haste, Lexaeus pushs them all into the doorway of a shop, and they just miss the hansom by a faction of a second, with continues on its madding journey down the road.

Atop of the hansom roof - standing on the roof, not sat in the driver's seat - is a seven-foot tall, pale, beautiful woman, dresses in fine clothing. Her expression is full of murderous glee and her eyes are full of hellfire, long blond hair streaming behind her like a tail of a falling star. Holding the reins in one strong hand, she cracks the whip in the other, flogging the horse like there is no tomorrow. The poor scared animal is trying to escape its abusive diver, all the while just pulling her faster and faster. As the crazed woman and her hansom turn around yet another corner, a crowd of policeman and brave fools race after her, whistles blowing and shouting at her to stop at once.

Once the explosion of madness had passed, leaving frighten people and barking dogs behind, Axel struggles from the huddle and stands in the middle of the road crying out with fury.

"You crazy, goddamn bitch! Learning how to fucking drive!"

"Axel!" Roxas runs out into the road after him and grabs his friend's wrist. "Don't say that. She might hear you and come back."

"Oh, like she can hear anything anyway" Axel sneers. "What the hell was that about anyway? Stupid cow is going to kill herself if she isn't carefully." Roxas highly doubted that. When the hansom came around the corner, it did so with one wheel in the air and it crashed onto the ground again, and she didn't even stumble. Whoever that lady was, she has brilliant balance. He glances down at the ground for a moment. The woman had left a cool breeze behind her, and on the mud and stone is a snail's trail of cold white powder and a coating of thin, glassy ice.

"Snow and frost?"

"Maybe a relative of Vexen" Axel suggests, still pretty enraged about the event but is slowly calming down again. By the door, Lexaeus helps Zexion up from the steps, checking the boy over with gentle hands.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes. I'm fine." Zexion steps away from the man's hold, brushing himself down. His breath is shuddering, skin white with fright but he didn't want to be fussed over right now. "What just happened?"

"I think someone escaped from the insane asylum" Roxas says gruffly, as he and Axel walk back over. "Is everyone unharmed?"

"Luckily." Lexaeus looks up the length of the street and makes a decision. "Maybe we should return to the flat and have dinner there. It will be far more safer, and I do not wish to meet that… charming girl again today or any other day.

- - -

Dinner was far from jolly. They found a butcher on the way back and bought a leg of pork, plus a few vegetables and a loaf of bread from market stalls and they make it back to the flat without meeting the icy lady again or any other madmen. Lexaeus did his best with the food and open fire, and made a quiet nice broth for them. They were compliantly silent, the only noises coming from them being the odd cough and accidental, impolite slurp. The red wine bottle was kept by Zexion's bowl, who topped up his glass ever so often as he drank and drank. Axel and Roxas sometimes exchanged awkward looks between them, wondering if one of them should strike up a conversation. Neither of them did. The only one who seemed to be comfortable was Lexaeus, expression compliantly unreadable although he did give Zexion a glance from time to time.

Finally giving up, Roxas excused himself from the table and started on writing a brief report on today's events in the bedroom. However Roxas is not the best at writing, and how can he write about today at all? What can he put? Hey Superior, we nearly got run over by a crazy snow lady on a carriage while looking for food today. Almost got crushed under-hoof but we are alright. Do me a favour: ask if Vexen has any living relatives in London. Thanks in advance.

He is just about to pack it up for the night when the door moans open and Axel walking, locking this behind him.

"I take it that dinner is finished."

"Zex left the table to get ready for bed shortly after you," the redhead shrugs, taking off his waistcoat and pulling off his boots, carelessly dropping them on the ground. "I helped the big guy clean up the table and then he when to join his master. I got bored playing with the fire so here I am." He walks over to the desk. "What you're doing anyway?"

"Trying to write a report on today" the boy explains. "Are you going to do yours?"

"Nah. I'll do it tomorrow or something" Axel says with a wave of his hand, dumping himself onto the bed. "After today, I just want to relax." He looks over his friend with lidded eyes. "I don't think those two," he nods over to the correct wall, "like us very much."

"What was your first clue, genius?" Roxas mocks, rolling his bright, blue eyes.

"I wish we were paired up with someone else," Axel sighs. "Like Xion. She would get a kick out of this. Too bad Xemnas don't let her out for many missions."

"I don't think Xion would appreciate the fashion for ladies around here" the younger boy chuckles. "They wear corsets made from whalebone. Picture us lacing her up every morning."

"Now that would be entertaining" Axel sniggers. He can just imaging the scene: poor Number Fourteen holding onto the foot of the bed and onto her breath, looking mightily uncomfortable as Thirteen and himself pull the cords on her back as tight as possible, all cursing with the effort, knees in lower back. "It's kind of boring here anyway. Six and Five are just a pair of boring saps."

"Only boring people get bored, Axe" Roxas teases. Axel scoffs. "You have to do something to break your boredom."

In emerald-green irises, something sparks up. Something like excitement, like cheek, naughty schoolboy mischief. He licks his dry lips and smirks, making his expression smouldering.

"Mm. I think I know a good way to do that."

Roxas arches a brow at him, his lips twisting into a sly smirk. "Oh. Really?" He gets out of the chair and walks over slowly, crossing his arm. "And what, pray tell, may that "good way" be?"

"It's something that we can do together" Axel growls playfully. As soon as Roxas is standing right in front of him, he tangles his long nippy fingers into the lad's shirt collar and pulls him down to his height. "Something that we are pretty good at, if I do say so myself."

Roxas chuckles, pressing his lips over his beau's so lightly, teasing him with just a slight touch, warm breath mingling together.

"What about the grumps next door?" he asks. "What about to paper-thin walls and unwanted noises you were complaining about before?"

Axel shrugs. "I sure they are asleep by now." He moves back farther onto the bed, tugging Roxas along with him. "After all that wine they had between them, they should be out like lights." He meshes his lips with Roxas', nibbling. His hand rests on the younger's ass and he gives his buttock a firm squeeze. "Since when did we listen to them anyway."

"I guess you're right," and the boy forces himself onto the man, kissing him hard and straddling his bony hips. His skilled fingers work on opening Axel's shirt. After all, this is what he wants too.

"You don't mess around, do you?" Axel laughs as he pulls away to breath, only to have his mouth consumed again. He talks too much, and this is the only way Roxas can stop him from babbling on. He pushes the shirt off wide shoulders and admires his lover's body for a moment. Axel is pretty good to look at - tall, fit, slender and warm. Very warm. The boy can't help trailing his hands down his chest, and back up again, coaxing moans from the man below him.

"Hmm… Cock-tease." That is all Axel can say in response and that makes Roxas laugh again. He pitches the man's right nipple between his thumb and finger so it goes erect, coaxing another throaty groan. Then the room flips unexpectedly, and Axel pushes the boy onto his back. The man grins and chuckles at the surprised face and big eyes below him.

"You didn't think I was going to let you top, did you?" he purrs, pressing his hands against the boy's flat chest. "After all, it is my idea."

Roxas blinks up at him for a beat, a tiny moment. Then a smile reappears on his lips, lovely eyes lidded. He reaches up with both hands and tangles his fingers into spiky hair, tugging sharply in revenge.

"Honestly," he breaths, licking his lips, looking up through his eyelashes, "I would never think it would happen any other way."

A shiver passed through Axel's frame and he wastes no time now, making a start on the silver fastenings of the boy's waistcoat. Although quite fashionable and cool-looking, the button are so goddamn small and fiddly, even for the Flurry's talented digits who curses bitterly every time the metal slips from his grasp. In the end and after a bit of bickering, Roxas helps him undo the coat and shirt buttons.

"I could have done it by myself" Axel sulks, busy pulling the material off tanned flesh. Roxas rolls his eyes.

"Yeah. You could have. Hours later, when I have fallen alslee- Ah!" Sharp teeth bite his chest and he actually squirms under the burning body. "Axel." Lips press against his own, a slimy tongue worms itself into his mouth, hands fly down to his belt buckle and starts to pick it open. Roxas likes this bit - the moments that get closer and closer to the "big finale", the point they have been waiting for all day. His lips and teeth latch onto Axel's neck, sucking to leave marks, any mark, branding him. He rakes his blunt nail down the man's chest. Axel shivers again, not-so-secretly enjoying the pain.

"Ah! Gods, Roxas. Chill! This is hard enough as it is without you--"

"I thought you said you were good at this?" Roxas drawls, echoing his partner's words to use against him. He is rewarded with a hard bite at his ear for his teasing. He gasps.

"I am. You're just not helping me. Ha! Here we go." Finger hook around the hem and Axel pulls the black uniform pants away with a flourished movement. He admires the body between his arms and legs, drinking in the sight of the young, supple body under him. Damn. That's all he can think. Damn this boys for being so good-looking, and damn him for fucking knowing it. Toned, tanned and bloody beautiful.

"…Pretty thing," his hand curls around his lover's member and gives him a few carefully strokes. "Prettiest little thing I've ever seen."

"Axel." Nails biting into skinny arms, Roxas rolls his hips upward into the touch and the way the man's names just flows in a purr through his lips is just freaking delicious. Beads of fluid form at the head, and Axel eagerly leans down to lick it off. More moaning and more thrusting is his reward. That is how Axel likes Roxas: at his mercy. "Gods, Axel."

The taste akin to sour salt, Axel licks his lips clean.

"Desperate much?" he growls, although he doesn't have much room to talk in his own trousers. The uniform pants are pretty tight to begin with, but now it is becoming quite painful. He shimmies himself out of his pants and throws all articles of clothing onto the floorboards, impatient. He settles himself over Roxas' body again, and blue eyes dances up and down, taking him all in.

"Not bad, Axel. You're not bad not all… You look pretty fine to me."

"Flatterer" the pyromaniac coos. They kiss luxuriously, arms twisting around slender waists. Axel presses his hips down against his lover's, making much wanted contact

"Wait- Wait a moment." Roxas pushes the taller boy gently off him with one hand. "What about lube?"

Axel blinks. "Ah. Right. Damn. Forgot about that." A light bulb brightens behind his eyes. He snaps his fingers. "Hold on." He leans over the side of the bed and fishes a small packet of lubricant from his back trouser pocket. "Ah, ha!" He waves it around in triumph. "Always prepared."

"I didn't know you were a boy scout" Roxas smirks. He settles down against the pillows. "Mm. Then again it might explain a few things." He places his hands on Axel's hips, pulling him back down. "Come on. What are you waiting for? A frigging bus?"

Axel makea a small noise. "Um. You're in a hurry." He rips the packet open and squeezes some of the lubricant onto his fingers. "With a cute little face like yours, people would never think you where so bossy in the bedroom."

"I wouldn't be so bossy if you actually- Oh…" Roxas finally shuts up, trailing into a whimper as two long fingers press into him, pushing in all the way to the knuckle.

"Better, baby?" Axel sooths, wiggling his probing digits to make the boy writhe.

"Yes," Roxas bucks his pelvis up, "much, much better."

Axel chuckles, nuzzling the lad's blushed neck, enjoying his flustered, frustrated expression. It's kind of funny to watch. A complete turn-on… Then again, Axel finds most things to be a turn-on.

In a sharp, fluid movement Axel pulls his hand away and positions himself between long legs. He presses forward before Roxas even gives him the go ahead, slamming in home. Roxas cries out, his muscles clamping around Axel and Gods, it feels so good!

"Mm, Roxas," Eight just starts to thrust, not caring anymore and he closes his eyes, his darling's face always in his mind's eye, like it has been so many times before. "Gods, Roxas." Just the right amount of pain and pleasure.

"Axel! Yes! Yes, Axel!" Roxas' back arches, nerves in spasm, nails stabbing into the skin of the man's back and scalp. He hooks his leg high around a hip, cock oozing already. He never had the better stamina. Never. Axel opens his eyes in time to see Roxas curls his hand around himself and pump fast, his eyes clouded over with lust and passion. "Axel…"

Shivering madly, Axel leans into kiss him again, placing his hand over his to moving in unison, quickly, hurried. It takes no time at all for Roxas to snarl and bite down on Axel's shoulder to stop himself from shrieking as release took over, spilling into their hands. Axel seems to follow instantly, hands clutching on hips to bruising point, vision white then he just collapses.

"…Yeah," he buries his face into the crook of Roxas' neck, nuzzling, bodies touching, "really needed that."

"…Axel?" The man fits his face to look down at his friend's, sweaty and hair plastered to his forehead.

"Yeah? What?"

"…You are kinda smothering me."

"Oh. Sorry." With groans, Axel rolls off and lands on his back on his side of the bed. He winces as the scratches on his skin meets the cool sheets. Roxas rolls onto his side, closing his eyes with a sleepy sigh. A sharp fingers pokes his cheek. He knows Axel in grinning at him. "You are not going to fall asleep now, are you?" he slurs.

"No." Roxas opens one sky blue eyes and smiles weakly. "I just need a little rest, that's all."

"You have no stamina" Eight teases. He stretches out like a cat, wipes his soiled hand clean on the sheets. "You scream too much as well."

"…Do you think they heard us?" the boy asks, looking over to the wall again.

"Nah." Axel shakes his head. "The old guys must be asleep by now. I think we are safe for… a couple of more hours." Roxas' eyes bright by two shades, making Axel chuckle. "Ready for another round already?" He sinks back against the pillows as the boy climbs over him, sitting across his stomach and he places his hands on his hips. The Keyblade Bearer's laugh turns very deep and raspy.

- - -

"Those horrible monsters!"

Zexion is pacing up and down the length of the bedroom, hands shaped into hard fists, tight enough so they are shacking, shuddering. His brow is furrowed and wrinkled with anger, lips twisted into a disgusted scowl. "Why do they do that? Have they no honour? No common decency? They are nothing but children? Nasty little--"

"At least they have stop now" Lexaeus grumbles. The man is calmly reading a hardback he had brought with him on the bed, legs straight out and crossed in front of him, reading glasses balanced in his chiselled nose. "It's late so they must have gone to sleep by now." He glances up from the browned pages, towards the younger Nobody slowing down, now twisting into furious circles, wearing the rug down. "You should be settling down for the night as well."

"I can't sleep now" Zexion hisses at him, pointing at the wall with the next room on the other side. "Not after listening to their X-rated audio play and a few encores, planting unclean images into my head."

"You plant unwanted, unholy images into people's minds for a living" Lexaeus reminds him, voice always the same quiet tone. Zexion scoffs, turning his gaze away from his partner.

"That is not the point. We are hear on a small mission for the Organization, but they are treating it like a bloody holiday. All fun and games. Disrespectful hoodlums." He goes to stand by the window, arms crosses and his presses his forehead against the cool glass. "I wish it was just you and me now. Not them… They are ruining everything."

Lexaeus looks at Zexion for a moment, seeing him two ways: with his back to him, body language tense and enraged, and in the dark reflection, face upset, almost thoughtful and distant. Placing his book and glasses on the bedside table, the Hero walks over to the Schemer at normal pace and places his large, warm hands on the boy's arms, stroking him through the material of his sleeves, up and down his limbs, over his shoulders, a ghost's touch as if he doesn't want to disturb him. Just enough pressure to make some contact. Zexion relaxes under the touch ever so slightly.

"London has a rich history of culture and achievements" he mumbles. "Theatres, operas, museums, galleries, restaurants - many places that you may enjoy visiting. When we have some time to spare, maybe we can see the sites. Live a Londoner's life for awhile. Just you and me." At those last four words, Zexion's eyes spark up. Lexaeus can see them in the window. "Would you like that?"

"…Possibly," Zexion smirks. He leads the hands from his shoulders to his waist, and they move on their accord around his torso, pulling him up against the board chest behind him. "Do you swear it will just be you and me?"

"I promise" Lexaeus buries his face into the crook of his lover's slender neck, "I don't want them messing up our relaxation time together." Zexion chuckles again, eyes fluttering shut and he actually purrs at the wonderful feeling of hot lips nipping at his shin, making his head loll back and sight blur.

"Sorry for being so angry today, dear" he mumbles.

"It's alright" Lexaeus shrugs, voice muffled against silky hair.

"No, it's not. I shouldn't have reacted like that… It's just stress, I guess. First getting paired up with those brats. Then that mad woman who almost ran us down and…" He looks up out of the window, and his eyes widen comically. "Now there are chimneysweeps dance on the roofs…"

"There's what?" Lexaeus looks out and upwards too and indeed, there are men jumping and dancing around the rooftops across the street, waving their sweeping brushes in the air and jumping over each other. Lexaeus reaches forward and opens the window a touch. The sweeps are singing too, altogether in perfect unison.

"Kick your knees up, step in time! Kick your knees up, step in time! Never need a reason! Never need a rhyme! Kick your knees up, step in time!"

The Nobodies just stare at the little musical, shocked. Zexion's left eyes twitches and he carefully loses himself from Lexaeus' grip.

"That's it. I can't take much more of today." Slowly, trying to hold onto his sanity, he walks over to the bed and gets under the covers. "I am going to try and get some sleep. I want to leave this nightmare of today and hopefully everything will be better in the morning." He looks over to Lexaeus, who hasn't moved from his spot by the window and is still watching the late-night dancing. "Are you going to join me?"

"Flap like a birdie!"

"Flap like a birdie, step in time! Flap like a birdie, step in time! Never need a reason! Never need a rhyme! Flap like a birdie, step in time!"

"I think I'm going to watch for awhile" the man mumbles, perching himself on the windowsill, arms crossed over his chest. Zexion creases his brow at him then huffs, taking up all the covers.

"Fine. Please yourself. Just don't be too long. The window is letting the cold in." He could moan all night, but instead he puts his head under his pillow, trying to block out all the singing. Lexaeus rolls his eyes briefly at him, then looks up into the dark again. This city is just full of surprises, isn't it?

"Over the rooftops! Over the rooftops, step in time! Over the rooftops, step in time! Never need a reason! Never need a rhyme... step in time!"