Author's Note: Happy Halloween y'all! Um, so this year I went through four other fic ideas before I settled on this one and just fucking wrote it. I'm not thrilled, but I hope some of you will enjoy it. It's a little different. Again. ^^;

I don't even know what else to say, lol. *gives hugs instead* ^_^

After over an hour of driving through the countryside on winding roads that sloped gently upward into the mountains, Axel finally caught sight of the sprawling old inn. Pulling the Cadillac up the drive, he studied the building. Certainly not in perfect repair, but not too shabby for a hundred-year-old building. If he remembered correctly, his aunt had said something about it being originally a farmhouse, built circa 1850. Apparently it had been a fairly successful farm, before the First World War. She'd had a lot more to tell him about the history and such, but he hadn't really been listening, so he had no idea how long it had been an inn, only that it was, in his aunt's opinion, the inn which was going to provide the perfect getaway for her dear, overworked nephew.

"By God, it's way out here though," Axel mumbled to himself. "Toto, we're not in Boston anymore. Damn."

Oh well, Axel thought. Worth a look anyway. Turning the engine off, he stepped out of his aunt's car, reaching back in for his favorite hat and dropping the charcoal fedora on his head as he grabbed his suitcase from the back seat. Then, brushing a hand over his gray suit, he headed for the front porch.

His feet had barely touched the front steps when the front door was opened by a plump, elderly lady. "Oh, you're here! Mister Hancock, wasn't it? Welcome to Pocumtuck Mountain Inn."

Lifting his hat politely, Axel smiled, laying on the charm. "Thank you ma'am. Axel Hancock, it's a pleasure."

"And you may call me Mary. Come in, come in, right this way, dear."

Following his guide, Axel found himself lead through a surprisingly large entryway, up a rather grand flight of creaky old stairs, and down a long hall to his room. His hostess was chattering the whole way – talk about his long drive, how he must be ever so tired, where the parlor was and when each meal was typically served, and a list of recreations the inn boasted. Apparently there was a swimming pond, a fishing creek, a small stable with riding horses, a patio that was just right for sitting and "quite warm on a sunny afternoon, even this late in the year," as well as a yard where guests often played croquet, if he was interested. Then Mary was unlocking the room, chattering, "I'm giving you the Apple Orchard room, all our rooms have themes, I think you'll find it quite pleasant."

Glancing around, Axel nodded and agreed politely, thinking that the place was certainly quite homey. Maybe Aunt had a first-rate idea after all, he speculated. The place was far out, but it wasn't as lonely as he'd figured. He didn't know how much he'd require all the amusements, but just the chance to sit around and read, maybe get some thoughts down for that novel… His aunt would kill him if she knew he'd be writing on his vacation, but there was a vast difference between articles with deadlines and writing just for the heck of it.

Mary was pointing out the small bathroom, adding, "I'll let you get settled in then. Dinner at 6:30, the dining room's back to the entryway, left, and then straight on, you can't miss it."

"Thank you kindly ma'am. I look forward to sampling the fare, here." Axel gave her another charming smile and she tittered in a most girlish way for an old dame, then took her leave.

Left to himself, Axel had another glance around. He set his suitcase by the bed and dropped his hat on the quilted coverlet. He strolled over to a window to check out the view of the mountainside, brilliantly painted in autumn reds, oranges, and yellows. "Not half bad," he hummed to himself. After another minute, he turned back to the room and his bags. He had some time before dinner; it was a good chance to unpack and get changed into something more comfortable.

~o~

Directions or no, Axel could have found the dining room by following his nose, come 6:30. He appeared on time, more relaxed now that he'd traded his suit jacket for a blue wool cardigan. And he thoroughly enjoyed the hearty, home-cooked meal. He made a mental note to find Mary after dinner and offer some well-deserved compliments.

Dinner also gave him a chance to meet some of the other guests. There weren't too many – a few couples, one or two with children, one set of honeymooners, a few elderly folks, an "old boy" or two here for the fishing. People to chat with if he felt like chatting, but no one too nosy or obnoxious who was likely to bother him when he wanted to be left alone. Just dandy.

After dinner – and after flustering Mary into more giggles with his praise for the food – Axel decided to have a look around. He walked the property nearest to the inn in a slow circuit, and ended up on the patio before too long. It was getting a little chilly as the sun sank low in the sky, but Axel was warm in his cardigan and found the patio to be the perfect spot for a cigarette. A few of the other guests were nearby on the lawn, playing croquet, but Axel just found himself a nice chair and sat back to smoke and watch the people and the slowly setting sun. It was far more peaceful than even the quietest evening in Boston, and though he'd been here less than two hours, Axel was already certain he was going to be doing something extra nice for his aunt, by way of thanks for the vacation.

Finishing his cigarette, Axel was just deciding between having another, going back in to his room, or maybe pushing his hat forward over his face and dozing off for a bit. Fiddling with his matchbook, he glanced up suddenly when a voice addressed him. "Got a light?"

The speaker was a young man – almost a boy, really – in a polo shirt and slacks, and Axel didn't recognize him as one of the guests at dinner. "Oh, sure. Here." He struck a match and held it for the youth, who bent to light his cigarette from it, then sat down on the chair next to Axel's.

"Thanks," he nodded amiably.

"Sure," Axel answered, extending a hand. "Axel Hancock."

"Roxas Smith." The boy's handshake was brief and firm. Then he settled back in his chair, relaxing. "You just get here today? I haven't seen you before."

"Yeah, today," Axel nodded. "Just a couple hours ago. What about you? Been here long? I don't think I saw you at dinner just now."

The boy lazily blew out a stream of smoke. "Yeah, I don't always come down for dinner. I've been here for a bit, though. How do you like the place?"

Axel felt a gaze and glanced up, catching deep, ocean blue eyes fixed on his face. Looking right into his eyes. The brief contact in that glance made something tense and prickle along the back of his neck, but his voice was easy and relaxed. "Oh, I like it. I wasn't so sure I needed a vacation, you know, but now I'm thinking this might be just what the doctor ordered."

Roxas smiled and chuckled a little at that. "It certainly tends to have that effect on people. Families come here, moms and dads looking like the kids have already made them regret the whole vacation idea before they even arrive, but in no time at all, they never want to leave."

Axel laughed. "Can't blame them! It's just so damned relaxing."

Nodding, Roxas continued to chuckle with him for a moment. Then, taking another drag from his cigarette, Roxas conversationally asked, "So, what is it you do, Axel?"

Again, that quick meeting of eyes. A feeling like a pull. Again. Once could be just his imagination, but this…this made him wonder. And it made him look at Roxas a little more carefully, sharpening his observation of the other young man, tightening his senses to catch…whatever he was sensing from Roxas. "I'm a newspaperman. Reporter for the Boston Globe."

"Oh, you don't say. The Globe, eh?" Axel was used to that slightly-impressed tone when he told people his job. He didn't usually feel this pleased by it, though.

"That's right. So you better not tell me you're a Herald reader," Axel teased, winking.

It wasn't eye contact this time, but now that Axel was watching, he thought he could trace where Roxas' eyes were going. And this time, he was damn near certain the boy was giving him the once-over. Just…slowly. "Oh, no sir. You won't catch me reading that rag." Roxas' tone sounded like it had softened a bit for no apparent reason. Axel let his voice drop a little as well. Not much though…it would only be noticed by someone listening for it.

"Glad to hear it." He took another look at the guy sitting next to him. A closer look. Roxas was slim, with smooth, soft-looking skin that was particularly attractive in the warm light of the setting sun. His blond hair was touched with red-gold highlights, just light the clouds right now, and he had a bit of a baby face. It didn't look like he was shaving yet, though Axel would guess him to be around eighteen. Or he hoped so. Roxas didn't have the air of a younger kid, so maybe he was a little closer to Axel's age than he looked… At least, the reporter was really starting to bank on that. Because the feel this kid was giving him was something else, something he didn't run into often. And the delicate line of his jaw and the shape of his mouth and the hint of clavicles under that polo shirt's collar and the tiny temptation of his ear lobe and a million other things were starting to get under his skin in a pretty big way.

He hadn't been looking for this, not on a vacation way out in the mountains. But if he was right about what he was sensing from Roxas, Axel had an idea his vacation was about to take a turn for the truly delicious. And if it did, he could ask for nothing better than such an isolated setting. Being this secluded from the bustling world made the needed secrecy that much easier.

Dragging on his cigarette again, Axel glanced sideways and noticed Roxas shiver slightly. "Say, aren't you cold?" He began carefully.

"Hmm? Oh yeah," Roxas rubbed his arms briskly for a moment, before the motion slowed. Axel felt his eyes drawn along, following that hand stroking up and down a forearm. "Yeah, it's getting a bit chilly out here now that the sun's going down."

"Shall we go in?" Axel casually suggested, blowing out a last stream of smoke. He stood and dropped his cigarette to the flagstones, stepped on it, and turned to Roxas. "I'm getting a bit cold myself, and here I am all bundled up compared to you."

Roxas stood, also stepping out his finished cigarette. "Lead on, sir," he grinned. As they walked toward the inn, Roxas added, "You know there's a game room. We could look for a poker table to join."

Something was left hanging in the air with that suggestion, and Axel took a stab at where he might be able to direct things. "My poker game's a little rough…I'm more of a gin fella, actually."

Roxas cooperated with that lead quite easily. "Oh, even better. We wouldn't need to go asking for other players."

"Tell you what," Axel ventured, "you ever seen the Apple Orchard room?" He glanced over at Roxas and caught those blue eyes watching him again. Axel grinned. "It's charming. You should come have a look."

For a moment, while Roxas continued to meet his eyes, it felt to Axel like there was an electric charge building in the air. But then Roxas turned to walk ahead, nodding amiably and answering, "Sure thing," and ordinary appearances were back in place. Still, the nonchalant attitude wasn't enough to give Axel doubts. Not anymore. Those blue eyes had felt him out and were now pulling him along. Call it a reporter's instinct. Call it recognition. Axel knew where this was going. Following Roxas inside, he glanced around once, making sure no one was nearby before he let his eyes rake down the young man's body, particularly appreciating Roxas' narrow hips under those khaki slacks. Oh yes, this was going in a good direction.

They fell silent for the rest of the trip up to Axel's room. An odd thing – Axel wasn't usually fond of silence. In a noisy city surrounded by people, it just wasn't something he was used to. With a very few people, he could sit in companionable silence for a while – otherwise, it was awkward. But this silence was neither relaxed nor tense. It was…a silence of waiting. Like they both knew what was happening and agreed to it, so that left nothing more to say.

Axel unlocked the Apple Orchard room and led the way inside. It took him a minute to find the light switch and flick it on to illuminate the dim room. Roxas stood in the room with his hands in his pockets, looking around and nodding. "Very homey," he commented.

"Yeah," Axel agreed, dropping his hat on the bed and walking over to where he left his suitcase. It only took him a minute to fish out his cards, which he'd brought along for a little solitaire, if he felt like it. "So what's your room's theme?"

"Oh, my room's not themed, actually," Roxas answered, reaching a hand out and taking the cards from Axel. Their fingers brushed in the transfer, and Axel stopped breathing for that heartbeat. It was only a moment, and then it was gone, but in that space his insides froze – waiting. Then Roxas was moving away, sitting down at the small table in the room and shuffling the cards, and Axel's skin was left with a tingling feeling from the touch.

He wouldn't push it, though. He didn't care if it took all night before anything happened – the waiting was so deliciously agonizing. His muscles were loose but dreaming of tension, leaving him feeling alive and energized and…very warm. He stepped over to the table, but didn't sit down right away. He just watched Roxas' hands flex and bend the cards as he moved to unbutton his cardigan.

"Oh? I thought Mary said all the rooms were themed," he commented lightly, pulling the heavy wool garment off, one sleeve at a time.

Hands stopped moving cards, and blue eyes looked up at him. Steady. Watching his every motion. Axel folded the garment and laid it on the bed, then joined Roxas sitting at the table, now feeling cooler in his slacks and button-down shirt. "Most of them are," the boy answered in a light, conversational tone. His eyes remained fixed on Axel. Unwavering. "I think mine's the only one. Don't get me wrong; it's nice. I guess they just never got around to picking a theme for it."

How different such innocent words could sound when the speaker wasn't looking somewhere else, but was staring straight at your face. It made Axel feel a little breathless.

Roxas extended his hand holding the deck of cards, offering it back to Axel. "I shuffled. You can deal." Nodding, Axel reached for the cards, and he gladly took advantage of the way Roxas was holding them – the whole deck laying in his upturned palm – to let his fingers brush the other young man's again. Skin on skin. Just for a moment, a half-caress, but it was way more than two disinterested, platonic acquaintances would have done.

Then Axel took his hand back and started slowly dealing. "I play dealer gets eleven and discard, that okay?"

"Sounds good," Roxas answered, eyes a little lower than Axel's face, now. If the reporter wasn't mistaken, those eyes were taking a turn at studying his hands. Axel nearly smirked before he caught himself and arranged his face more neutrally as he picked up his cards.

They played in silence for a while. Axel knocked first, and Roxas tsked, brow furrowing briefly. The next hand, Roxas knocked, and while he took over the deal, Axel stood and strolled over to the little radio on the bureau, fiddling with the knobs until he had found a decent music station. Then he returned to the table, offered Roxas another cigarette, and sat down to a smoke and a few more hands of cards.

Finally, grinning a little smugly, Roxas announced, "Ha! Gin." Axel looked up from his cards with a frown, unhappily studying the melds Roxas was laying down.

"Damn," he commented flatly, counting his losses and keeping a sidelong eye on Roxas, who was watching him with a mischievous glint in his eyes as he took one long, final drag from his cigarette and crushed it out in the ashtray. Aw, hell with it. Axel didn't care much about the game anyway. Aside from handing each other the deck, there weren't enough occasions for accidental touches, and the space between them over the card table was beginning to wear on him.

He tallied up the score quickly, adding figures and concluding easily, "Well, you won. Guess I'm not as much of a gin man as I thought." His cigarette joined Roxas' in the ashtray as the boy laughed at him.

"Gin's all just luck anyway. The cards like me tonight." He winked.

Axel swallowed, muttering under his breath, "No wonder…"

The radio filled the silence between them, Sinatra crooning in his swingin' way.

"Life is a beautiful thing, as long as I hold the string. I'd be a silly so-and-so, if I should ever let it go. I got the world on a string, sittin' on a rainbow, got the string around my finger. What a world, what a life, I'm in love."

Axel set the cards down, eyes flicking up to Roxas with a daring twinkle. Maybe it was about time to try something reckless. "Hey. You know how to fox-trot?" He didn't give the boy a chance to respond with more than raised eyebrows before he reached out and snagged Roxas' wrist.

"Well, yeah, I mean…hey!" Axel had yanked the startled guy to his feet and pulled him quickly against his body, switching his hand around to hold Roxas' and letting his other rest on that narrow hip – quick and smooth, before he had a chance to second-guess himself. Roxas gave him an amused, skeptical look, suddenly so close, suddenly having to angle his head back to meet Axel's eyes. "I only know how to lead, you know."

Axel grinned when Roxas finished his statement by resting his free hand on Axel's shoulder. "Eh, it's the Foxtrot. It's all the same, just backwards, right?" He picked out the song's beat quickly and started stepping.

Awkwardly stumbling to follow, Roxas snorted a laugh. "Easy for you to say. Hey, slow down!"

"Can't. Gotta keep the beat," Axel answered, still moving as Roxas fumbled to figure out left from right. Almost immediately, they were stepping on each other's feet, making Roxas trip and almost go over backwards. Axel caught him with a laugh, tightening his grip around a firm waist as Roxas squeezed his hand suddenly. It was a position Axel enjoyed immensely. "Two left feet, I see," he teased.

"Hey, you wouldn't be any better," Roxas shot back. "You didn't even give me a chance to figure out which foot to use."

Still chuckling, Axel acquiesced. "I know, sorry. Here, this song's slower." Sinatra had finished his little number, and Nat King Cole's mellow voice had taken over the room.

"Unforgettable…that's what you are. Unforgettable…though near or far. Like a song of love that clings to me, how the thought of you does things to me. Never before has someone been more…unforgettable."

"It should be back with the right, then the left, then step right," he offered, giving Roxas a chance to practice a step or two.

"Yeah okay, I got it. Go." Leading into the easier pace, Axel obeyed, starting them into a Slowfox. Roxas kept up this time; after all, the feet could learn to do a fox-trot in three seconds flat. Then it was just a matter of paying a little attention. For Roxas.

For Axel, he could lead in his sleep. His attention was free to wander to the loose grip of Roxas' hand, the feel of his palm – soft and a little warm – and the shape of his body under the polo shirt as they swayed a little across the room. The up and down shifting he could feel around Roxas' hips made him want desperately to hold tighter, pull closer, crush together… And up close like this, he could catch the young man's scent. Hell, he could drown in it, even though it was subtle. A faint, something-citrusy kind of aroma that didn't make him think of fruit at all. It had other undertones to it, and the more Axel inhaled Roxas, the more he thought about skin and warmth and the intimate little crevices of the human body.

Just when those thoughts were starting to make him lightheaded, he found himself looking down, straight into eyes that had lifted to meet his – again – and then they were stopping. Maybe because the song ended. Maybe because they just stopped. Axel really wasn't aware of the radio anymore. He was thinking that if he held on tight, stepped left, and turned a little, Roxas would trip and land right on his Apple Orchard bedspread. He'd have to hold on tight, though. His palms were getting a little slippery with sweat. Must have the radiator up too high…

His voice was low and a little breathy. "Not bad. You can really cut a rug, Roxas."

One eyebrow quirked at him a little, but that mouth was curved in a slight smile, and the answer was just as low and soft. "Oh, you know how it is. Everything in life works better with the right…partner. Cards, dancing…" Making love… Axel felt a shiver run down his spine. "…everything." But blue eyes spoke Axel's thought, even if those lips formed another word instead. And those lips were so close…those lips…

"So Axel," the sudden words snapped him back to the conversation. His spine straightened abruptly from the beginnings of leaning down. He blinked, noticed they were still touching. Noticed Roxas was smiling sweetly. "Care for a nightcap?"

Brain reluctantly stumbling to follow the topic switch, Axel blinked again and nodded. "Um, sure." As long as it doesn't mean we have to go downstairs to get the bottle and glasses.

Roxas released his hand, and Axel took the cue and reluctantly let go. "Well, then, come have a look at the Themeless Room and I'll offer you one."

Oh, Roxas' room? Well then… Axel felt a lot better about the suggestion now. He didn't want to go back to the common rooms, where they might meet other people. He was getting impatient, craving for that moment when they'd cross the line, but as long as it was just the two of them, Axel could wait. They'd slipped up close to the line there for a minute, and then Roxas had pulled away. He was making Axel chase him, and Axel loved it. Chasing was thrilling.

So he turned off the radio and the lights and followed Roxas further down the hall. Passing the last room, the hall took an abrupt turn and suddenly ended about five feet further on in one last door, which Roxas opened without using a key.

"Not locked?" Axel asked, following the boy into a dark room.

"No need," Roxas' nonchalant voice answered from the shadows. "No one knows there's another room down here anyway." He was disappearing deeper into the darkness while Axel waited by the door, trying to let his eyes adjust. "Sorry," Roxas continued, "the lights aren't working at the moment. Just a minute."

A little surprised that Mary was renting out rooms that had electrical problems, Axel caught sight of a spark of light as Roxas struck a match, illuminating his silhouette for a moment before the flame caught, steadied, and grew stronger on the wick of a chimney lamp. Roxas placed the glass chimney over the light, and the shadows receded enough for Axel to see the nearer part of the room clearly enough. Roxas straightened and looked at him. "Come on in." He turned to set the light on a table, then opened a cabinet and began taking out glasses and a bottle. Axel obeyed the invitation, entering the room and closing the door…sliding the deadbolt home. Frankly, the dark had been unexpected, but upon further reflection, it was probably even better this way. The room was in shadows, warm lamplight burnishing the center, while over by the far wall moonlight streamed in from the windows, silvering the furniture, including the bed.

Roxas continued speaking as Axel slowly drew closer. "You have to keep this a secret. Mary is a teetotaler, actually. You won't find alcohol anywhere else in this inn." Uncorking the bottle, he poured each glass in turn. "She was a spitfire Prohibitionist in her youth, apparently." The soft light highlighted a warm smile as Roxas handed Axel a glass. Their fingers brushed again, trembling a little like they were dying from missing that touch.

"You don't say," Axel managed, forcing his voice out in words rather than a moan of desire at that warm brush.

"It's true," Roxas answered, tipping his glass back for a swallow. "I know all her stories." A sly wink.

Axel managed not to cough into his drink. He wondered if there was any way to get Roxas to do that again…and then the taste of the drink gave him pause. "What's this?" He asked, glancing at the clear alcohol. It wasn't quite like any of his usual drinks.

Roxas smiled that secretive smile again. "You can tell? That's good. Actually, this is real Prohibition moonshine." Axel looked up and raised his eyebrows, following Roxas as the boy turned away and slowly crossed the room. "This inn used to be a farm…and during the Prohibition, the farmer who owned the place ran a still. He had a huge moonshine racket going for a while, too." Stopping by the window, Roxas turned back to Axel, leaning against the sill and staring again. His voice dropped a little, making Axel step closer to catch his words, and his eyes were half-lidded. "You know, there's old legends that warn against drinking moonshine in the moonlight. It's supposed to make a man crazy…or bring a curse on him. I forget which it is."

Looking at you in the moonlight is enough to drive me crazy… He swallowed the rest of his drink, moving a little closer. Roxas was painted in blue and silver, beautiful and ethereal and tempting, and Axel wanted to come up with something to say that would move things in the right direction, but all he could think of was, "You don't say…"

Smirking slightly, Roxas didn't answer. He tossed back the rest of his drink and then slowly set the glass down on the sill, fingers caressing over the rim for a moment before those hypnotic eyes deliberately locked with Axel's again. Time slowed down, he would swear it. Roxas moved in slow motion, his hands drifting together in front of his body and…unbuckling his belt.

"You know, Axel…" One arm extended, pulling the belt slowly through the belt loops until it was free, then dropping it to the side. "I'm not some blushing Miss Innocence, waiting for a ring." The silver moonlight in those dark eyes suddenly seemed white-hot. Hands slipped up to the polo shirt, untucking it from khakis slowly. "You don't need to get down on one knee. We can skip straight to the honeymoon. If you want to." Fingers played over a button and zipper, unfastening them so slowly that Axel was sure it would kill him. His voice could barely rasp an answer to the invitation.

"Yes…I want to. Roxas." This is it, this is it… He could feel the line suddenly slipping past, slipping away, forgotten.

That beautiful face was serious; the lovely voice was a burning whisper. "Then what are you waiting for? Come. Here."

His glass hit the floor with a crash, but Axel didn't notice because Roxas was in his arms all at once, crushing close and warm and firm, and their mouths were pressed and tangled together. His hands tore at fabric, pulling to get it out of the way with a desperate urgency that the young man matched, unbuttoning his shirt so impatiently that he probably ripped a few buttons off. He moaned into that willing mouth when he felt hot skin under his hands, and the next moment they had tumbled onto the bed and Roxas was under him, pulling him down and panting, and Axel's heart was racing and his groin was throbbing hard as he tore the last of Roxas' clothing away and released his mouth to bite hungrily down that perfect throat. Then his hands went straight down, pressing for a moment before just wrapping around stiff flesh and pumping hard, making Roxas writhe, making hands tear through his hair and pull.

"Axel…Axel…Axel! Axel…unh!"

He moved down, and down again, tonguing over skin and tasting pure, living pleasure. Then he shifted abruptly, pushing Roxas' legs apart as he knelt between them and pulled spit from his mouth with four fingers of his right hand. Roxas' hands had moved too, fumbling his pants open for him and then shoving them down, enough to be out of the way. Then blunt nails were digging into his back, gripping at the thin fabric of his white undershirt and pulling him down until he was pressed against Roxas, both of them hot and throbbing, both jerking their hips in needy, abortive thrusts. And that was good, good, so very good, but Axel didn't stop there, couldn't, refused to. Groping underneath Roxas with his wet hand, he found the opening he was looking for and promptly drove one finger in.

"Ahhhhhh, yes!" Roxas arched, throwing his head back and moaning, eyes closed and mouth open in ecstasy in the moonlight – ravishing, beautiful, addicting, unbearable. Axel rocked his hips faster, thrusting against Roxas harder, promising more to come as he forced in another finger. The boy was gasping for air in loud breaths, whimpering occasionally. "Haaa…haaa…mmn, ah, Axel…" He broke off with a gasp. Third finger. And Axel was seeing no signs of hesitation. Roxas wasn't begging him to slow down. Wasn't saying it hurt. Every moment, he expected signs of pain, and every time, all he saw was intensifying pleasure. Eager desire. Sweat and skin and the tang of citrus sex.

With a gut-clenching groan of want, Axel pulled back and grabbed one pale, moon-white thigh, pushing it up toward Roxas' chest while rolling the boy over onto his side a bit and shifting to straddle his other leg.

"Ready?" His voice sounded too raw to be his own.

Roxas only gasped, "Hurry."

Then he pushed forward, into tightness, into heat, into Roxas, and he thought for a second he was going to lose it right there. He stopped a moment, holding on, breathing hard and trying to calm down. Roxas was trembling violently, head thrown back, gasping over and over, "Fuck, oh fuck Axel…f-fuck!" He had a death grip on the blankets. He was gorgeous.

Leaning down a little further, Axel touched one of Roxas' fists. It opened, releasing the blankets and turning to him, and he held on and pinned that hand down, watching the boy pull himself together until he could open his eyes again. Then Axel was lost in blue that was almost black in the darkness, and his free hand found pale white-gold softness and brushed through it as he leaned down and pressed deep into Roxas' mouth again.

Not for long, not long at all, but for a moment, he thought he tasted Heaven. Then he couldn't hold it anymore – his restraint evaporated in the heat and he pulled almost-out and drove in again, and again, and Roxas' dark eyes rolled back in his head until there was almost nothing but the moonlit whites, his lips sometimes forming a gasp of fuck or Axel but mostly just working wordlessly as Axel thrust and thrust and thrust and thrust and lost track of everything else and lost his mind in the pleasure, so good it was Hell and he wanted it to go on forever.

The climax hit him harder than he'd known was possible, and he filled Roxas with his seed, listening to the slightly-muffled screams as the boy released too, biting his own hand and spilling on the blankets and on his own sweaty skin. Then his arms and legs gave out on him, and Axel felt hot skin slipping against his own as he collapsed onto Roxas, the world spinning around him and going dark, fast.

Nuzzling contentedly against a heaving chest, he sighed and let the world slip away and be damned. He'd never felt anything so amazing in his life.

He wasn't aware of anything anymore by the time two hands reached up and touched him, cradling his face, and two thumbs pressed slowly below his eyes, caressing his cheeks tenderly. Possessively. Only for a moment in the silent moonlight.

~o~

Sunlight streamed through Apple Orchard curtains, warm and golden, and when Axel opened his eyes to it, he squeezed them closed again right away. It was warm and he didn't want to wake up, so he rolled over and buried his face in a pillow, reaching out with one arm and groping around the bed for…something. He didn't even know what he was expecting to touch, and it took him another minute of empty reaching before it began to sink into his sleepy mind that something was missing and that didn't make sense. His arms thought there should be someone there, someone warm and alive and beautiful…why? Since when did he ever wake up with…

Wait.

Squinting into the morning light, Axel picked his head up and looked around. He was alone in the Apple Orchard room, and all at once he realized he had no idea how he'd gotten here. The memory of the night before rushed over him, and for a minute Axel forgot confusion in favor of memories that gave him a silly grin. But then the memories seemed to be missing something, and he frowned as he tried to remember the rest. How had he gotten back to this room? And, now that he knew why his arms were lonely, where was Roxas?

He sat up, scratching his head, and received another surprising revelation. He was dressed…more or less. He was wearing his shirt and slacks from yesterday, though his clothing was a mess from sleeping in it.

Axel shook his head. It wasn't a…was it? I couldn't have dreamed… It was real! But… He looked around again. He was still in his own room, dressed, and the memories ended somewhere else entirely. There was no way.

So…it had to be. A dream? His stomach sank as rationality sided with the conclusion Axel most definitely didn't want to reach. Then he looked down. His shirt gaped open messily…and several of the buttons were missing. Axel blinked and grabbed at the shirt quickly, examining more closely to make sure. One two three four…missing. And he'd be damned if he'd believe that he was just that fitful of a sleeper. He knew he wasn't. But just to be sure, Axel threw back the quilt and searched the sheets rapidly for the missing buttons. Then the floor. He didn't find a single one.

A relieved smile broke over his face. I knew it. It was real. He was real. I don't know how I got here, but…forget it. I'll go find him. Reading and writing could go to hell. Axel could read and write at home in his free time. The rest of this vacation was going to be spent with a breathtaking blond, and behind as many closed doors as possible.

He changed quickly, whistling and chucking his wrinkled clothes on top of the disordered bed, cheerfully not giving a damn. He dug his shaving kit out of his suitcase and set out his supplies by the sink in the cramped little bathroom. Still whistling happily, he was finishing his shave when he paused and took a second look at his own face in the mirror. Were those dark smudges on his cheeks? He rubbed them, then added some soap and water to his fingers, just to make sure. His skin reddened, but the little dark shadows under each eye remained. Axel frowned and wiped a towel over the mirror, making sure it was clean. It didn't seem to change anything. Hm. Trick of the light then. Never mind it.

When Axel was dressed in his blue suit, he picked up his hat and left his room, locking up and then turning to face the hall. Mary was coming toward him from the far end of the hallway, a bundle of clean towels in her arms.

"Good morning, Mary," Axel tipped his hat politely and smiled.

"Oh, Mister Hancock! Good morning, dear, how did you sleep?" The plump lady approached him, calling softly across the distance so as not to wake any other guests who might be still in their rooms.

Axel smiled quickly, then neatly tucked away the clamoring memories of his near-coma-inducing night of passion. Of course he'd slept well; who wouldn't, after that? "Like the blissful dead, ma'am. The bed is far too comfortable; I didn't want to get out of it!"

Tittering again, the lady finally reached him. Axel had to look down at her – she barely reached his chest when standing next to him. She, for her part, had to look far up in order for Axel to see her smiling expression as she began her flattered answer. "Well that is so good to hear, dear…oh!" Mary's eyes suddenly widened, the smile dropping from her face in a flash.

Axel's eyebrows quirked together in confusion and a little concern, seeing the lady staring at his face with blank shock. "Something the matter, Mary?"

At the question, the lady blinked rapidly and shook her head, looking down a moment so that Axel couldn't see her expression anymore. When she turned her face up again, her smile was back, but muted and strained. "Nothing my dear, nothing. Breakfast is a help-yourself affair, so go on down and help yourself, dear."

Putting the odd moment aside, Axel had a question to ask. "I'm on my way. Say Mary, have you seen one of your guests – a blond guy called Roxas – have you seen if he's up yet? Would he be down at breakfast?"

As he asked, his gaze had lifted to glance up and down the hallway again, looking for the boy he mentioned but not seeing anyone else. So he missed Mary's expression when he mentioned the name – the slight tremble of her lower lip, the paleness creeping over her rosy complexion. The moment when she looked down again and took one long, deep breath.

Her voice was quiet when she answered, and her smile was barely a ghost of its former self. "I shouldn't think you'll see him at breakfast, dear. Now then, I have fresh towels to put out. You need some, don't you? Yes, yes, run along to breakfast then, dear."

He hadn't answered, but Mary bustled onward anyway, unlocking his door with her master key and taking the towels in with her. Axel was left in the empty hall with an odd feeling, wondering what all that had been about. Hm. Funny…

But the old lady's odd behavior wasn't enough to distract Axel from what was foremost in his mind – seeing Roxas. And if Roxas wouldn't be at breakfast, maybe he was sleeping in. Maybe Axel should check on him. Maybe Axel should check on him and miss breakfast too. He grinned slyly as he turned down the hallway, away from the stairs, just one thought in his head.

Roxas.

~o~

"Oh Roxas…" Mary murmured sadly, standing slumped in the Apple Orchard room, "not another one." She was silent a moment, then began to move slowly, placing the fresh towels in the bathroom.

She whispered once more before leaving the room, "When will you have had enough?"

~o~

Turning the corner at the end of the hall, Axel stopped in his tracks with a jolt. He stared blankly for a minute at the end of the short hall in front of him. He rubbed his eyes and glanced back the way he'd come, making sure he was in the right place. He was. But the sight that greeted him didn't change.

There was no door. The end of the hallway was taken up by a very large old wardrobe and some cabinets and shelves. None of it looked movable.

Slowly stepping forward, Axel reached for the furniture in confusion. It was solid to the touch, and when he opened a few drawers and cabinets, he found neatly-folded stacks of clean linen. Towels, like those Mary had just been carrying to his room. And no sign of a door.

Where's Roxas' door?

Confused and a little nervous, Axel turned and paced back down the hallway quickly, wanting to find Mary and ask for an explanation. The hallway was still empty. His door, when he reached it, was locked again. Frowning, Axel unlocked it and stepped in, but Mary wasn't there. The room was empty, looking just as he'd left it, except for two clean towels in the bathroom.

"Mary?" Axel called, then turned back to the hallway and tried again. "Mary?" He thought maybe she'd be just in a neighboring room… But when the little old lady didn't reappear after a minute…two minutes…five minutes – Axel figured he must have missed her somehow. Shaking his head, he finally headed down the hall in the direction of the stairs, figuring to catch up with Mary at breakfast and find out what was going on. And then he wanted to find Roxas.

And really, he'd be happy to skip Mary entirely if he bumped into Roxas first. Maybe the guy would just tell him he'd been moved to another room early this morning. No problem. Axel didn't care what room they ended up in, as long as he could get alone with Roxas again.

~o~

The dining room was crowded, the guests all serving themselves from the sidebar, which was loaded with a fine selection of eggs and ham and sausage and bacon and coffee and biscuits. Axel helped himself to a plate of food, searching the room for either Mary or Roxas, but he didn't see any sign of either. He hung around, though, eating slowly, figuring that sooner or later the hostess would have to appear, busying herself with the food. Or maybe Roxas would show up, unexpectedly. Axel sat on a sofa with a coffee for a good long while, waiting.

The guests filling the room slowly started to drift off to other pursuits. Still watching the room, Axel began to notice one of the few small children in the room – a little boy – because the kid was staring at him. He ignored the boy at first, but eventually gave up and put on a friendly, paternal smile. "Something on my face, Champ?"

The wide-eyed child didn't return the smile or blink at the joke. He just nodded in a slow, curious way. "Yeah," the tiny voice answered, "you should…to get a washcloth and should wipe those spots off." A little finger pointed at Axel's face as the child stumbled over expressing himself.

"Okay, Kid," Axel felt his smile crinkling a little in confusion. What's he talking about? Glancing around again and still seeing no sign of Mary or Roxas, Axel decided maybe it was time to go looking for them anyway. He got up and left the room.

There was a framed mirror in the front hall, and Axel stopped in front of it on his way out to the yard, checking his face for whatever the kid had been pointing at. After a quick glance, however, he was stopping and turning and leaning in, more fully examining his reflection. Those shadows he'd seen when shaving…they were still there, and they couldn't be shadows after all. They were a little darker now, the outlines clearer, beginning to look like faint but distinct marks on each cheek, below each eye. What's this? Axel wondered. Must have got something on my face after all. When a quick rub of his fingers didn't affect anything, Axel turned his steps toward the stairs again, taking them quickly back up to his room. He'd have to get this washed off before he started getting weird looks from other guests, not just kids.

And, most importantly, he'd be embarrassed to find Roxas only to have the guy look at him funny and tell him he needed practice washing his face or something.

Axel put a bar of soap into the task of getting the faint marks off, but all he got for his trouble was red skin which seemed to make the outlines of those marks look even darker and clearer than ever.

"Damn it all!" Axel exclaimed in frustration, throwing the washcloth into the sink. He stared into the mirror, frustration verging on anger darkening his features. "What the hell is going on here?" He muttered at the mirror.

A polite little knock on his door almost seemed timed to answer his question. Axel strode to the door briskly and opened it. To his surprise, his visitor was the missing Mary herself, carrying a tea tray and smiling gently at him.

"Mary!" Axel was a little at a loss and a little relieved at the same time. Maybe now he could get some things straightened out and get on with his day the way he wanted it to go.

"Hello dear," she answered, stepping forward into the room. "I brought tea. Won't you have some?"

Blinking, he hesitated at the suggestion, but habit took over for him and graciously accepted. "Sure Mary, thanks. Uh, but say, since you're here, I wonder if you could…"

"Cream and sugar, dear?" The lady was turned away from him, fixing the tea, not seeming to mind a word he said. Axel paused again.

"Sure…Mary?"

She turned back, smiling softly again, and handed him a teacup. "Have a seat dear. You wouldn't mind a little chat with an old girl like me, would you?"

Well this is all a little…odd. But Axel still had manners. "No, ma'am. Here, have a seat yourself." He quickly picked up his hat from where he'd dropped it on the stuffed chair in his room. Mary nodded and settled herself there, and Axel sat down opposite her on the edge of his bed. He fumbled with his hat a moment, unsure what to do with it, then just tossed it aside on the messy covers.

Mary spoke first. "You know, this inn used to be a farm. I only just converted it to an inn after the war, you see. I'd planned to before that, but with the Depression and then the war, I just never had a chance. This place was empty for quite a few years, sadly. From early Prohibition, it was…yes."

"All right…" Axel ventured, unsure where this was going or why he was suddenly sipping citrusy tea and listening to Mary tell old stories.

"There's a bit of a story to why it ended up empty. You see, it had been a farm since 1850, passed down in a family for generations. But when Prohibition came around, the owner of the farm at the time decided to put his land to a new use, and he ran a still here, quite a big operation."

"Yes," Axel interrupted, "I'd heard about it."

"Had you?" The lady's smile seemed awfully false when she looked at him. Almost too sad to be a smile. "I see. Well, the farmer, he wasn't married. He had farm hands originally, but he let them go one at a time, didn't want too many people around who'd know about the still. By 1922, he was all alone here except for one young boy he kept to help with the chores. An orphan out of Boston…you know, in those days, most adoptions were just farmers picking up free slave labor."

Axel was listening, but there was something off. Something a little different in the way this old lady told this story. It didn't sound right somehow. It didn't sound like a recounting of the building's history. Something in her voice made everything feel just a little too…personal. He set aside his empty tea cup and focused on Mary, who wasn't even pretending to smile anymore. Her wrinkled features were somber and heavy – dark, somehow.

"Well, it's all just hearsay and speculation how things went. Seems like the farmer was quite the man for the bottle himself, and he had a reputation for a deadly temper. I imagine the poor boy he'd adopted had a lot to put up with…right up until the day he died." She paused to sip from her cup, glancing at Axel. "It might never even have come to light. They were so secluded, and the boy was of no account to anyone else. But it happened that the Sheriff had already been keeping his eye on the farm, and just a short while later, the Law showed up to shut his still down. They were searching the house when they walked into one room, all unsuspecting, and there was the boy's body, just lying there on the floor, about a week dead and…" Mary's voice dropped to a whisper, "not a stitch of clothing on him."

Axel felt his skin crawl, suddenly cold. He was listening now. Really listening. His instinct was telling him something was up here. This wasn't just some terrible story. What's the connection?

"The Sheriff's report didn't say much specifically. Just, 'There were miscellaneous depraved and unmentionable injuries on the body.' They couldn't be sure what exactly the cause of death had been – too many choices, apparently. But the boy's head was smashed in and a broken bottle of moonshine lay next to him, so they figured if he hadn't been killed already, that would have done him." Mary set her cup aside. "He was only eighteen. He never knew he had family; his mother had run off and we didn't even know about him for years. But I'd been searching for my nephew…I just didn't find him in time."

Shocked and sympathetic words were just on the tip of Axel's tongue – what a terrible family tragedy! – when Mary looked up at him, straight in his eyes, and finished with four words that made his blood freeze.

"His name was Roxas."

He was standing at the foot of the bed before he fully registered that he'd gotten up. His mind was stuttering, empty and stunned. No. He wanted to laugh it off. Coincidence. A bad joke. But Mary's tone just wasn't something he could laugh at. No. He didn't believe it though. He couldn't.

"I believe you've met my nephew, Mister Hancock."

No. "This is ridiculous. I don't know what you're talking about." He was warm, he was solid, he was breathing, he gasped and panted and moaned! I held him, tasted him, smelled him, he was real!

Mary's eyes lowered and she continued, her voice almost a monotone now. "As I said, this place was empty for a long while after that. I came along after the war, opened this place in '46, and ever since then…well, it seems he chooses those he visits. I don't see him. But once in a while, a man…" Mary paused, biting her lip.

"No." Axel wasn't sure if he was telling Mary she was wrong, or begging her not to say any more. But she didn't stop. Didn't listen to him.

"It's always been a man who comes alone. Then all of a sudden, these markings appear on their skin…and they know of Roxas. Like they've met him. Like you." Wrinkled hands twisted the calico of her dress. "The marks get darker all day, and then the next day…the man is just gone."

"Gone? What…do you…?"

"Disappeared. And never seen again."

Axel felt dizzy, like the room was spinning. For some reason, he'd forgotten that he wasn't believing any of this. "I…I'm out of here. I gotta go…"

Standing suddenly, Mary crossed to him. "Oh, no dear! I'm terribly sorry, but you can't leave. He's chosen you; you don't know what he'll do if he can't have you!"

Eyes wide, Axel just stared at her, and there must have been enough terror in his eyes to convey his question, because Mary continued, reluctantly. "There was just once. The man left. He was gone by nightfall. That night, every man in the inn died. Decapitated, all of them. Many were sleeping beside their wives, who woke in the morning to see it…" She trailed off, looking ill. Axel took a slow step backward, but Mary looked up at him and followed. "So you see, I have too many others to protect!"

A shaky laugh broke from Axel's lips. "Haha! So…so I'm a sacrifice to the ghost? You think I'll stand for that?"

The soft, elderly face had become very grave, almost hard. "I'm afraid you will, dear. I'm truly sorry it has to be you… Usually the men he chooses aren't…well, aren't so young and kind."

"What…?" Axel felt his legs go weak under him, and he sat heavily on the bed again. He was so dizzy… Must be shock. He braced himself with his arms, trying to stabilize the spinning world.

Gentle hands touched his head. "I keep hoping…you see, I think he's searching. If he could find what he's looking for, maybe it would be enough. Maybe this time…"

But Axel didn't hear the rest. The sunny Apple Orchard room was spinning faster and faster, and darkness was rushing in from somewhere, crashing over him and drowning out the frail old voice, numbing all sensation. He didn't feel it when he collapsed onto the bed. He'd already lost consciousness.

Mary collected the two tea cups and the tray, leaving the young man lying sprawled on the bed. "So sorry about the tea, dear," she whispered from the door. "I can't let him lose one again."

~o~

Moonlight streamed in through the open windows, transforming the Apple Orchard room into something ghostly – October-cold, and far too quiet. Aside from the slight drifting rustle of the curtains, there was no sound to be heard. It seemed like the whole mountain was silent, abandoned by every living soul tonight. The cold and the silence flowed into the room, bringing the scent of fallen leaves…and something faintly citrus.

Axel opened his eyes.

He was still for a moment, body frozen while his mind scrambled to make sense of his surroundings. When it did, he moved, but not suddenly. He sat up slowly, shivering once from the cold, and he looked around the room. The moonlight gilded everything in silver, and everything gilded was frozen in place. Like the room was kissed with ice, or like the world was holding its breath. Only the curtains shifted, breathing – the night was alive, and the room was waiting.

Axel rose and caught a flash of movement at the edge of his vision. But when he looked, he only saw the bathroom door open, and what must have been his own motion reflected in a sliver of mirror. Making sure, he drifted closer, watching carefully. He stopped when he caught sight of his face, however. He could see them clearly now, dark and sharp against his ghost-white skin – two little narrow diamonds, like little black tears, one under each eye.

He walked all the way into the bathroom and stared at them, but this time, he didn't make any effort to rub them away.

A soft clink sounded in his room, followed by an even softer sound he couldn't place. Axel turned abruptly and left the bathroom, eyes searching for the source of the sound. There was no one there…but on the table where he had played gin the night before, there was a bottle and a glass that hadn't been there a moment ago. Clear, sparkling liquid rippled in both, still settling after the disturbance of being poured.

Moonshine. Reflecting the moonlight in watery patterns on the wall and ceiling.

"No thanks," Axel breathed into the silence. With a quick turn, he reached his door and grabbed the doorknob. It turned, but the door wouldn't budge. He pushed, then pushed again. It felt like something immovable and solid was blocking the door from the other side. "Oh God…" It was a frightened prayer, without any real hope of escape.

"Axel…"

The sound wasn't so much a voice as it was…a sigh on the wind outside, a breath pushing its way into the room. Axel turned, back against the door, and searched the blue and silver room with darting eyes. Nothing. Just a bottle of moonshine and a glass, sitting there like it was waiting to be drunk. "Let me go," he whispered back to the empty room.

He heard no reply. But there was a sudden feeling of…amusement. Like the silent room was laughing at the idea. Axel suddenly felt like that had been a silly thing to say. Of course he couldn't escape, now. It was too late. He was claimed, and Roxas was already here. Somewhere.

Well, then…maybe I'd better have a drink. Whatever was coming, Axel had a sudden feeling that it wouldn't be quite as terrifying if he wasn't quite as sober.

His legs wobbled as he approached the table, and Axel almost laughed a little self-deprecating laugh when he realized he was scared enough to tremble. "What a way to go, eh? With all the things I've seen in Boston…in the end, a night in the countryside gives me the heebie-jeebies."

Talking to himself gave Axel a false sense of bravado, or maybe he was just going nuts from nerves. He lifted the glass with a shaking hand and raised it in the moonlight. "Here's to you, Roxas. Hope I didn't hurt ya last night." He almost giggled nervously as he tossed the drink back, then lowered the glass, mumbling more seriously, "I'm sorry if I did. I didn't mean to. Honest. I wasn't trying to hurt you. I just…couldn't get enough of you."

A gust of freezing air blew the curtains aside, swirling through the room and startling Axel, making him pull back with a shiver and bump into something. He looked down to see it was the bed, still a mess…but it wasn't right. The quilt wasn't apple orchard print, but something plainer. And the mess of the sheets and blankets suddenly looked different, and there was something in the air…a scent clinging to that tangled fabric. A pungent, human scent…

Axel looked up and tensed in shock, his fingers slipping and dropping the empty glass, which crashed to the floor. The room had changed – it wasn't his room anymore. It looked more like the room of last night, except…except the bed was the only thing in the room that looked the same. Everything else looked decrepit. Covered in dust. Broken down. Fallen over. Cluttered with cobwebs. And the moonlight was dimmer, filtering into the room in thin bars that leaked through the cracks between the boards covering every window.

Legs giving up, Axel landed on the bed. The room had been left the same, just boarded up the way it was and left here, ignored and disused. This was how it looked now. Axel looked down at the bed. This is where we did it. He shuddered briefly. These were the surroundings he'd been unable to see, the ruinous setting for his little tryst with the dead boy.

Without warning, golden light glowed in the darkness, illuminating even more ruin and decay. Then something happened. The half-transparent figure of a young man appeared through the boarded-up door – but not as if he'd walked. He stumbled and immediately fell to the floor, and the next moment, another shadowy and transparent figure followed – a tall, heavy, muscular older man. He walked as if stomping, and the figure on the floor cowered away with every thudding step – but there was no sound. Nothing but pure silence, and the vision in the room, and Axel, holding his breath.

The burly man opened his mouth and appeared to be screaming in rage. He reached the boy and began to kick him, beat him…grab fistfuls of his clothing and rip it off of him. The boy scrambled to get away, and ended up on his stomach, turned a bit so that Axel could see his face.

It was Roxas.

His mouth was open in screams and cries for forgiveness, his face twisted in terror and pain, tears streaming from his eyes. Axel felt like he was being kicked repeatedly in the gut – but no, that was Roxas – and having his heart torn out a piece at a time. And I barely knew him. But the fists didn't stop, no matter what that pretty mouth said, begging and pleading, and Axel wanted to throw up, but he couldn't tear his eyes away as the beast of a man yanked his own pants open, grabbed the boy's backside, and drove his dark, thick erection into Roxas mercilessly.

Blue eyes peeled open impossibly wide in the moonlight, shocked agony replacing the tears, just for a moment. Then the vision was screaming silently again, sobbing and struggling weakly as the brutal man hurt him, raped him…and Axel tried desperately to close his eyes against the sight, but he found he was frozen in place and couldn't. He was being forced to see.

The beating continued, the raping went on and on, until Roxas was a gasping, barely-alive mess on the floor. Fingers that had been clawing the floorboards to get away now only twitched occasionally. The words were gone from those silent lips, all expression lost from those once-clear eyes. The boy was a tortured shell by the time the bastard finished with him. He was white and gilded with gold from the lamp and silver from the moon, and patterned with bruises and painted with blood. And then his attacker rose, standing unsteadily. A large, rough hand reached out for the neck of a glass bottle, water-clear liquid sloshing inside…

…and he spat on the broken boy…

…and he brought the bottle down on that golden head. And again. And again.

The silence in the room seemed to beat with the sound of each impact. But the boy was still after the first blow, and lay there limply as his head was beaten in.

Axel thought he would faint. He felt a scream struggling to get free of his throat, but something was silencing him. The apparition finally dropped the broken, bloody bottle and tottered out of the room. Roxas just lay there.

Whatever had been holding him frozen finally lifted, but Axel wasn't trying to look away now. Tears of pity overflowed his eyes as he looked at Roxas' corpse. And no one around for miles. No one who even knew you were here, no one to hear your screams. And it seemed so futile, now. Thirty years later, what could he do for the boy, even knowing what had happened? Nothing. Nothing, really. No one saved you then, and now it's too late.

"You see what you did to me?" The words were low, the tone deliberate and flat, and Axel jumped. But his ears hadn't tricked him – the voice had come from the floor. The corpse was looking up at him now, eyes clear and head broken, and Roxas was slowly getting up. "Do you understand now, you beast? Are you sorry now?"

"Roxas…" Axel gasped in fear. The apparition looked more solid now – solid and real and just as dead as moments ago, except his eyes were focused on Axel, and his lips were moving and producing words as he stepped closer.

"I hated you but I obeyed you, and this is what you gave back to me. Well, now it's your turn. Hell is waiting."

A pale arm lifted and suddenly there was an ice-cold hand at Axel's throat, gripping tight. Those blue eyes remained intent, unwavering, and Axel realized with terror that the whole thing was nothing but a vengeful ghost's charade – reenacting his own death over and over and finding new men to take revenge on.

Choking, Axel forced his voice to work against the crushing pressure. "Does this make you happy, Roxas? Seducing random men, making them fill in for that bastard, and punishing them for something they didn't do?"

The hand at his throat didn't waver, but the increase in pressure halted where it was. Roxas answered, after a pause, "All are guilty. All have used me without caring. It is the same as him."

His stomach twisted with a pang. Roxas had a point there. Axel hadn't meant anything bad by it – honestly, if Roxas hadn't seemed so willing, he wouldn't even have considered doing what he did. But in truth, had he really planned to continue seeing Roxas after this vacation? Had he been thinking of making the boy a part of his life back in Boston? No. Of course not. Not that he wouldn't have, if it were possible, but it just…wasn't. But he'd taken Roxas anyway, knowing they wouldn't have long together. Knowing it was just a fling. Just a moment of pleasure to enhance his vacation. Selfish. Oh yes, Roxas had a point.

Still… "But it's not him, Roxas! You aren't punishing him! This won't help you!"

Another pause. "He escaped me. But there are others. I'll drag them all down to Hell for what they've done."

No sense arguing with a ghost. It didn't seem like the spirit once known as Roxas was exactly able to think beyond his purpose – revenge. Too bad, Axel thought with a wry twist in his chest. He seemed like a really good guy. It made Axel wonder if maybe, somewhere…the rest of Roxas' spirit was waiting, while his grudge was stuck on planet earth.

It made Axel think something crazy and decide something crazier – but then, it wasn't like he had options with the hand of death literally at his throat.

"Okay, Roxas," Axel answered, then reached out. He grabbed the cold corpse by the back of the neck and pulled him closer, and…he crushed his warm, living mouth against the cold, dead one. The kiss made his skin crawl, but he held there for a firm moment before letting go. "Okay. Fine. You take me down to Hell or wherever you want to go. But Roxas," Axel looked into those eyes and noticed some expression had flickered to life in them again, "when we get there, you have to stay with me. No more coming back for someone else. Stay in Hell with me and punish me all you want. If you promise, then I'll go with you."

Surprise. Blank and wondering surprise showed on the dead boy's face, and Axel thought that maybe, maybe the hand at his throat had loosened a little. "Are you pitying me?" Roxas asked darkly.

"Yeah. Yeah, Roxas, I feel sorry for you! Shouldn't I? Because I think it's pretty damn natural, considering what I just saw." What you suffered through.

"Aren't you afraid?" The ghost's expression hadn't changed. And Axel could only be honest.

"Yeah, a little. Well, maybe more than a little. But…it doesn't look like I've got many options, and I guess…I guess it just doesn't seem that bad, if you're there. At least, the you I met last night. I think it might be worth a lot to get to see that guy again."

The cold hand slipped away from his throat, and the vision in front of Axel…wavered. Roxas lost his solidness for a moment, and when it came back, the corpselike appearance and many of his injuries had faded. The blood was fading away too, until Roxas almost looked the way he had the night before, solid and pale and beautiful, with life and thought in his eyes.

"What about your life?" Roxas asked softly. "What about Boston?"

Feeling something unclench inside him, Axel relaxed a bit, the fear beginning to dissolve. "Isn't all that already lost?" He asked in return.

Roxas wavered again, and this time he didn't come back to his solid form. This time, Axel could see the room through him faintly, if he tried. And Roxas' voice was like whispering leaves in the wind. "If you will come…I will be satisfied. I promise."

Unable to find his voice, Axel just nodded once, staring into blue. And blue stared back, and Roxas nodded too, and then that translucent hand was reaching toward his chest. Axel didn't watch – he kept his eyes on Roxas' – but he felt a cool touch slip past his skin, and then there was a moment that jolted him as a chilly fingertip touched his heart…and stopped it.

A faint brush on his lips – the kiss of a spirit, barely felt. Or felt more somehow…as his body fell away. Pain.

Then there was a pull, a tug, a weightless feeling…and a voice that called to him without words, drawing him into the peaceful dark.

~o~

The person known as Axel Hancock vanished without a trace. His luggage was gone, his car disappeared, his hat was nowhere to be found – but that was because it was lying on a dusty old bed in a boarded-up room which no one ever entered, and before long it was buried under as much dust as everything else in the room.

Mary waited, but years came and went, and vacationers came and went, and some of them were men who arrived alone, but never again after that did she see dark markings appear on any man's face. Axel was the last guest to disappear from Pocumtuck Mountain Inn.

However, they still do say that sometimes, just sometimes in October, you can smell the scent of moonshine in the cold wind at night.

~o~

The End

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Note to readers! Hey guys! If you read this because you're into Axel and Roxas and that's pretty much it, well...thanks! I hope you liked it! :D But if you also wonder if this Kurosora1984 lady has anything else to entertain you, and if you are even a little interested in other guys getting their sexy romance on, check out my current original story on FP! Links in my profile! Thank you, dears! :D