48. Masquerade (Part 1)

Fandom: Kingdom Hearts
Pairing: AkuRoku
-o-
"May I have this dance, milady?"

Turning towards the source of the oft-repeated request, Roxas forced the pretty smile he'd been practicing ever since he and his twin sister first learned they could pass for each other. Right then, Naminé was part of the colourful, swirling mass in front of him in one of his suits, her long hair hidden under a hat, and any remaining chance of being recognized negated by an elaborately beaded mask, dancing and laughing with the love of her life. Meanwhile, Roxas was stuck smiling and nodding and going along whenever anyone asked him to dance, looking all the world like his lovely, technically available sister with a finicky wig he had to check after every dance, thick skirts that made him wish he could dance alone just to feel them swish, and a new corset that he still hadn't gotten used to yet.

It had been a long night and he just wished it could be over.

It wasn't that he was bitter about giving his precious sister a break from what he was going through, what she went through on any other day, and give her some extra time with her raven-haired lover, and some twisted part of him got a sort of sick satisfaction from fooling so many people, and he did enjoy getting dressed up like a proper lady when the opportunity arose. It had just been a very long night, he'd danced with more masked strangers than he could count, his corset and tight shoes were beginning to get uncomfortable, and he really just wanted to go out into the fresh air in the garden and just sit down and enjoy what remained of the night. But, being a proper unmarried lady, he'd need an escort to step outside, and, being a proper unmarried lady, he couldn't just ask. The only good side to be found was that, as Naminé White was beautiful and technically available, he at least wasn't just standing around, bored and lonely, like he would be if he'd gone to the masquerade as himself.

"Milady?"

Silently shaking himself, Roxas took as deep a breath as he could and quickly made sure his smile hadn't slipped, lifting a hand to straighten his feathered mask, as if nervously. "My apologies, sir. My mind was elsewhere." He deliberately forced out a self-conscious laugh. ("Get your head out of the clouds, boy!" he heard his father snap in his head.) "I would be honoured to dance." He wasn't sure how honoured he was supposed to be since he couldn't identify the man, his gold mask covering most of his face except for an oval around his mouth, but wasn't that the "fun" of a masquerade? Not that anyone had any problem knowing who he was supposed to be. The man's voice was vaguely familiar, but... He'd figure it out if it mattered.

"Thank you, milady." The latest suitor bowed before taking Roxas' gloved hand and pulling him away from the fringes and into the dance. Half tuning into the song being played somewhere just out of sight, Roxas allowed a firm yet gentle hand to press against the small of his back and another to grip his hand before being led deeper into the other dancers.

Thoroughly engrossed in keeping up his polite smile and not quite looking at the eyes behind the mask above him, Roxas waited silently for his partner to talk about the weather, his business, or himself as they swept gracefully across the floor, but the man remained equally silent, just staring at him through the narrow slits of his mask. Roxas assumed that was what he was doing, at least; it was hard to tell under the shadows and he didn't care enough to look all that hard. Feeble protests rippled up his legs from the long hours in heels. He suppressed a yawn. He knew his face didn't show it. He somehow wasn't as proud of that as he once would have been.

Past the taller man's arm, he briefly caught sight of Roxas White dancing with Xion. Both of the girls' faces were radiant with joy and love under their masks.  Anyone with eyes could see it. Two lovely youths, both from influential families, neither married. There would be talk. And why not? Roxas even considered it often, keeping Xion away from other men for both her and his sister. Especially lately. He knew his father would be more than willing to let Naminé never marry, supporting her until what time he died, then Roxas was more than happy to take over. Nothing would seem remotely out of place if Naminé visited her brother and sister-in-law often, sometimes staying with them overnight, living with them permanently after her father died. And it wasn't like marrying Xion seemed at all distasteful. He'd known her most of their lives and loved her like a sister. He knew Naminé had thought of the whole thing as well, though she'd never say anything. He sometimes fancied himself falling in love himself and Naminé offering to marry the man as well, true love squared. A fancy was all it was, though. Naminé and Xion had been inseparable since childhood. Roxas had lost all friends who weren't them years ago, through various means, and what hope did he have of sparking a romance with a stranger?

Either way, there would be talk about himself and Xion, dancing so close, smiling so blissfully. He'd talk to Naminé about it tomorrow. Then his father. Then they could make the preparations to formally propose. Yes, he'd save his friend, for her and his sister, before another man set his eyes on the tough ravenette. The thought made his smile a bit more genuine, though it also squeezed his heart with loneliness.

"Lovely evening, isn't it?"

Ah, there's the meaningless banter. Roxas tugged his head out of his daydreams, back into business. "Yes, it certainly is."

"And how lovely you are."

Standard-issue compliment, standard issue response. Roxas ducked his head in a shy manner to hide the fact that those compliments had long-ago stopped making him blush like a proper lady should. Naminé, on the other hand, was very easily flustered, so he had to be as well. "Oh... Well, this dress is nice, I suppose." Which was a lie. It was perfect. It was, in fact, Roxas' favourite to wear; simply white with a shimmer of beading on the bodice and sprinkling over the full skirt and a clutch of feathers tickling his collarbones from the deepest part of the neckline. His favourite part, though was the black satin lining that only showed when he lifted his skirt. A hidden darkness. It always felt ironic and sometimes made him laugh out loud.

The ghost of an amused smile danced along the man's lips. "Yes, it is a nice dress, but I was talking about you. I just saw your face and wanted to cry with joy. You could wear nothing but a potato sack, and I wouldn't be able to look away."

A prickling of heat did run up Roxas' neck then. Most men simply got embarrassed that their compliment had been deflected and changed the subject, and the ones that didn't usually prattled on some cliché crap about comparing him to flowers or angels. The only one he remembered getting at all eloquent had introduced himself as a poet and spent a good five minutes finding increasingly intricate metaphors for Roxas/Naminé's beauty. Sometimes, Roxas had to remind himself that they were talking to the face he put on, not his actual face. Still, the poet had put in effort and Roxas had blushed beet red and grinned like an idiot the entire time they talked.

The hand at his back slid up slightly, and the smile on the man's face solidified. "Too much? My apologies." Tone seeming somehow amused, he leaned over ever so slightly and a couple wisps of very red hair escaped his hat to fall in front of his flame-patterned mask. "It's just been years since I last saw you, and I admit I'm a bit overwhelmed..." Grin growing positively gleeful, he leaned over so his mouth was very close to Roxas' ear, nearly making the blond recoil in surprise, and his voice dropped to a secretive whisper. "Roxas." He immediately pulled away to an appropriate distance, expectantly.

Trying not to trip over his own feet, Roxas felt his breath catch in his chest as his mind spun in a torrent of memories he'd locked away: a shock of very red hair falling into perpetually gleeful, forest-green eyes; wickedly mischievous grin; strong, calloused hands dragging him around on adventure; cocky voice insisting, "I only let you win 'cause I'm being nice;" soft lips against his own; gentle, calloused hands caressing his body under his clothes. All of them so blissful he'd had no choice but to forget them when his best friend disappeared so suddenly.

His breath hissed sharply between his teeth as the hand at his artificially narrowed waist tightened and the grin in front of him twitched higher on one side, so familiarly. "Now, don't tell me you've forgotten about me. 'Cause I might get hurt."

"Axel..." Roxas gasped under his breath despite the excitement bubbling up his spine, erasing his tiredness. The spike of energy made him want to throw his arms around his old friend and kiss him senseless, then punch him in the nose for disappearing, but he couldn't. Not there. He tried to release the other's hand to lift Axel's mask so he could see the face that was somehow fuzzy around the edges in his memory, but the redhead squeezed his hand to stop him.

The grin in front of him softened, but only slightly. "We mustn't do anything untoward, milady," he teased softly, tilting his head to one side, giving Roxas a hint of the glimmering eyes underneath. "Not here, at least."

Giggling, the judging eyes of the crowd mostly forgotten along with their years apart, Roxas drew as close as he dared. "We'll talk after this song. You can take me for a walk in the garden. And you'd better say yes or, dammit, I'll punch you," he whispered back.

"Well, you've twisted my arm. I'll do it." Grinning with an all-too-familiar wild abandon, Axel gripped the blond a little tighter and spun him around a little bit faster, not quite in time with the music anymore. Roxas hardly cared, barely able to restrain giddy laughter. He came back for me!

Hardly caring how much longer the song continued, lost in the rhythm between them, Roxas was nonetheless relieved when the music drew quiet for a moment, and the two of them pulled away to a polite distance. Axel lost no time in bowing and offering his arm. "Walk with me?" Roxas took it with a practiced indifference, as if he was just being polite. No one looked twice as they silently slipped out the glass door and into the silence of the garden.

With a deliberate effort, Roxas kept his hands in their proper positions but couldn't hear any voices around them, so he decided it was safe to talk as they walked deeper into the plants. "How did you even find me?"

Axel grinned, seeming pleased with himself. "I've been listening to happenings and heard that both of the White siblings would be at this dance tonight. To be honest, I found Naminé first." He laughed softly. "I must say, it broke my heart for a second there, seeing what I thought was you and Xion so in love. As soon as they separated for a second, I confronted your sister, and she explained what was going on and pointed you out."

Roxas laughed, the twisted part of him delighted to hear that Axel still cared enough to get upset. "I'm sorry we confused you."

"Nah." Covertly looking around, Axel guided the blond towards the hedge maze. "You two have quite the scam going on. Good to see you haven't grown out of it."

Happy to see the maze, Roxas grinned. "Never. Too much fun." A second later, he wasn't sure why he lied; it was becoming increasingly hard to find events where their father was working and they could slip out unnoticed, so they were talking about giving it up. Why the heck did I just lie?

"Well, you do look damn good."

"Heh. Thanks." As soon as they were hidden behind thick, tall hedges, Roxas let go of the redhead's arm, grabbed his hand, and dragged him deeper into the maze until he figured they were suitably lost. He briefly wondered how many young couples before them had slipped away from other parties for time together, away from unfriendly eyes. He finally stopped at a dead end and whirled around to throw his arms around the taller male and hugged him tightly. "Damn, I've missed you!" Finally, he could let his voice drop to its natural tone.

Laughing, Axel's arms cinched tight around him and lifted him off he ground a few inches. "Me too. You have no idea!" He set the blond back on his feet and touched the fringes of his wig. "May I?"

"As long as you help me make sure it's on right later." Reaching up to his head, Roxas removed the feathered and jewelled comb holding the wig in place and let the other push off it then his mask, tucking the comb into his bodice so he wouldn't lose it.

Smiling warmly, Axel stroked his lips. "There you are."

Blushing, Roxas pushed the redhead's hand away. He suddenly noticed a pink smear on the other's glove and touched his lips, his own glove coming away clean. "Hey! I don't have more makeup hidden on me or anything!"

Grinning as smugly as ever, Axel pulled the blond into his arms and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Good. I haven't been out of my mind missing Naminé." One of his gentle hands teased Roxas' hair, coaxing it up into its usual, unruly spikes.

A relenting sigh slipped past Roxas' now-bare lips and he raised his hands to take off the other's hat, releasing more loose locks of hair. "Ah, I can't stay mad at you, you jerk." Grinning, he gripped the edge of Axel's mask.

Instantly, the man's smile vanished and his hands flew up, and grabbed Roxas' wrists, tight. Startled, Roxas flinched back, staring wide-eyed at the face he couldn't see as his heart leapt and pounded. They froze like that for a second or two, then Axel let go and whirled away, ducking his head. "Sorry."

His heart hiccoughing, Roxas' hands tightened into fists against his skirt. "What's wrong?"

Axel sighed, heavy and hopeless. "You don't want to know."

Scowling, Roxas grabbed the man's arm and tried not to notice the familiar curve of work-hardened muscle under fabric. "Yes I do. That's why I asked."

"Roxas..." The man faced him again and lightly pressed a hand to his cheek. "When I thought I saw you with Xion...'heart-broken' might not have been the right word. I was nearly shattered. I'm pretty sure I scared Naminé half to death when I got her away. When she figured out who I was and explained, it was all I could do not to run over and kiss you stupid right there."

Roxas frowned. "What does that have to do with not taking off your mask?"

Sighing tiredly again, Axel shook his head. "I just want to make sure you know how much I still love you. I've loved you every day since we were separated. You have to believe that I never wanted to leave you, and that I'd never, never hurt you. Not on purpose."

A strip of goosebumps prickled up Roxas' arm and he had to stop himself from pulling away in a fit of nerves. Did he love Axel? Well, at one point, yes, more than anything. After the redhead disappeared, and no one would or could tell him where or why, he'd been torn up for a very long time, Then, about a year later, he realized how much he was torturing himself and locked away every memory, good or bad, into a well he only drew from in times of suffocating loneliness. Did he still love Axel? Yes. But, as he thought of it, bitterness and betrayal and hurt threaded through the elation of their reunion. Can I trust him until he explains? Can I really love him without trusting him? He decided it was safest not to reciprocate Axel's declarations of affection, as much as his heart longed to just forget his years alone and erase the hurt.

Axel finally seemed to pick up on the meaning of his silence and let his hand fall. "I never wanted to leave you. My parents just up and announced that they'd gotten me an apprenticeship with a respected blacksmith out of town..." Blacksmithing. The only thing, or so he had claimed, Axel had to do when not spending time with Roxas. His biggest dream. "...right after I came home after..." He hesitated, hurt plain despite his hidden face. "After the...last time we saw each other." His voice dropped to a nearly inaudible level and his entire body sagged. "They made me pack then sent me off right away.

"I kept telling myself I'd come back as soon as I could so I could talk to you and tell you what happened." A bitter, self-mocking laugh slipped out of him. "After the shock wore off, it was stupid how excited I was. For a year, I kept telling myself I'd find a way to get the money to come back. After that..." He shrugged half-heartedly. "I guess I kind of figured that you would've given up on me. I had to decide to focus entirely on my apprenticeship so I could come back successful and at least a little richer than I was. If I could do that, maybe I could be closer to your level and we could, like, see each other in public or something." Trailing off, he raised a hand to his face as if to move the mask but seemed to change his mind and let his hand return to his side. A moment later, twin trickles of moisture appeared on either side of his soft, downturned mouth.

"The guy who mentored me was the best at his trade, don't doubt that, but he was a notorious drunk when the work week was over and had a hair-trigger temper. As his apprentice, I usually got the worst of it." Hesitating for half a second, he pushed up the sleeve of his left arm. All across his tan skin, old, ugly, angry-looking welts shone softly in the moonlight. The image of Axel, hunched over and shielding himself from red-hot pokers, crossed Roxas' mind, making tears prickle at his eyes. A second later, Roxas briefly recalled Axel's face as it once was before the image morphed into one where the once-handsome (okay, gorgeous) face had become disfigured by the same scars as the ones on his arms. That made him want to cry more, so he hurriedly pushed the image away. As vain as Axel had been, why he was hiding his face had to be bigger that that, right? Muscles in his hand and arm rhythmically clenching and releasing, Axel pushed his sleeve back down and face the ground. "Normally, I'd just have to suck it up and wait for him to tire or pass out. It wasn't easy, but I didn't want to risk getting him pissed off and kicking me out. If I was going o be able to face my parents...and you, I'd have to learn everything I could from that man. Then..."

He broke off and seemed unable to continue, so Roxas touched his arm, terrified. "Please tell me what happened."

Tears dribbling off his chin, Axel violently shook his head. "I've gone over that night in my head again and again, but I can't figure out what pushed him over the edge. He would have killed me if I hadn't fought back. Maybe not on purpose, but he was completely out of his mind." He slowly looked back at Roxas, imploringly. "I only wanted to hold him off, I swear, but he wouldn't stop coming at me. I don't know how long it took, but someone eventually heard the shouting and dragged us off each other. They took him to a doctor to get him patched up and sobered up, and damn if the bastard didn't blame me for the whole thing!" His hands tightened into fists and he turned his face towards the sky, tears continuing to pour. "He said I was trying to kill him to take his money and business, that I'd gotten him drunk and tried to strangle him and thank goodness he managed to hold me off until help arrived. He's a great master blacksmith, and I was just a lowly apprentice from an unknown family; what chance did I have?" Hand flying to his face, he harshly wrenched back his mask. "I was tried for attempted murder and found guilty." His face turned back down to Roxas, eyes hard and challenging.

Throat closing off, Roxas hoarsely gasped and staggered back a step. Only a single scar marred the redhead's face, across his forehead and obliterating half of his left eyebrow, but, under his eyes, twin upside-down teardrops were inked against his cheekbones: the unmistakable brand given to those sentenced to death for some crime. Dizzy with shock, Roxas stumbled another step away. "Oh my gosh..." He scrambled to find words. "How did you get away?"

Defensive anger melted away from Axel's face, leaving behind uncertainty and vulnerability. "I escaped from jail before I was to be hanged. How... How I did doesn't matter." He sighed and looked to the ground again. "It didn't matter anymore if you'd given up on me or even forgotten about me. I had to see you again, just one more time. I couldn't...just leave things so unresolved between us. I've been spending most of the past year laying low and trying to figure out how to see you face-to-face. It's surprisingly easy hide this shit under a good layer of dirt or soot." Shrugging, he gestured vaguely at his face. "This masquerade was the perfect chance to get close to you. Turns out they let anyone with nice clothes, good manners, and a mask in."

Unable to contain himself a second longer, Roxas threw himself against his old lover, knocking the other back a bit. He gripped the redhead as tightly as he could, smelling the half-forgotten yet familiar faint mix of smoke and sweat, feeling the flex of muscles against him, and, somewhere beneath flesh and bone, listening to the steady thump of heartbeat. "Oh, Axel. I'm so sorry. The things you've gone through..." While I was whining and feeling sorry for myself. "I love you."

Strong, trembling arms held him close, and Axel's face nuzzled his hair. "Don't be sorry. I love you, too. Now and forever."

Drawing back as little as he could, Roxas lifted his hands to the man's still-perfect face. Despite their grim meaning, he realized that the tattoos really didn't bother him. Not like he saw criminals all that often. Not wanting to wait a moment longer, he pulled the man down to kiss him, immediately going weak from the rush of emotion. Only a second later, though, he has to release Axel to laugh, sinking down from his toes.

Looking surprised, Axel smiled weakly. "What?"

Roxas forcefully quieted his laugher long enough to speak, tears leaking from his eyes. "You bastard. You grew too tall."

Continuing to look confused for just a second longer, Axel burst out laughing, finally relaxing. "I can fix that." Suddenly, he dropped to the ground, dragging Roxas down with him.

With a loud yelp, Roxas tumbled against the other's chest before laughing again and fixing his skirt around him so he could sit comfortably in Axel's lap, their faces at almost the same level. "Better."

Arms cinching around each other again, their kissed again, mouths eagerly opening and tongues meeting. Deep inside, Roxas felt a knot of tension he didn't know he was carrying unravel and release a muffled moan of relief into Axel's mouth as they pressed desperately against each other. Their hands fervently travelled the other's body, carrying an unpracticed edge that made Roxas shiver in a stirring of long-dormant need.

But then he had to pull back to gasp and pant for breath. "Sorry..." he murmured between gasps, smiling sheepishly. "Damn...corset."

Axel grinned wolfishly and walked his long fingers up the lacing at the blond's back. "We could always do something about that."

"I wish," Roxas laughed breathlessly. "Who's going to...put it back on...? You?"

"I could try." Axel kept grinning but let his hand fall back to Roxas' hip. "I know; if you're at all dishevelled, Naminé's reputation will suffer. Heck, we probably shouldn't stay here much longer because of that anyway."

Sighing, Roxas leaned his head against Axel's shoulder. "Just a few more minutes." Breath short with need, he found Axel's hand and gently tugged off the glove before pushing it up under his skirt to his knee. "Please," he murmured, lifting his head to look back into the forest pools of the other's eyes. "Just... Just a little more."

With tears trickling down his face, Axel nodded and pressed their lips back together, hand pushing its way up to settle high on Roxas' thigh, the calluses on his fingers occasionally catching on the thin pantyhose. Losing the fight against his own tears, Roxas pushed his body into the larger man's, running one hand down Axel's chest and pressing the other against the the back of his head below his scruffy ponytail.

They stayed that way, locked together in desperation, for a while, bodies slowly finding the rhythm, they'd long-since forgotten. Then the burning of Roxas' lungs grew unbearable, and he leaned back to fight for breath between sobs.

Axel's hand stayed on his thigh, but the other lifted to touch the blond's cheek. "We need to stop now. Before I can't."

Knowing he wouldn't be able to stop either if they continued a second longer, Roxas nodded, but still neither of them moved. He didn't want to think a moment beyond "now," but he knew he had no choice. "When are we...going to see each other again?"

Axel sighed and shook his head. "I don't know. I haven't been able to think past just being able to see you again." He hesitated and inhaled deeply. "Maybe... Tomorrow night? Can you find a way to get out?"

"Yes," Roxas replied immediately. He would. No matter what.

Obviously relieved, Axel smiled. "Great. Our usual spot. I'll be waiting. Then we can talk." His voice rich with promise, he finally retreated his hand.

Roxas slowly got to his feet with a smile. "I'll be there." He picked up his wig and mask from where they'd been left on the ground and dusted them off. With the ease of much practice, he pushed his hair back before putting the wig on and holding it on with the comb. As Axel put back on his own glove, hat, and mask, Roxas looked up at him with a small smile. "Is it on straight?"

Looking him over for a second or two, Axel pushed a bit of stray hair off Roxas' face and smiled back. "Perfect as ever."

Roxas smiled and replaced his own mask then reached up to pull Axel down for one last, bittersweet kiss. "I love you." He chuckled softly. "Let's see if we can get out of here." Honestly, the prospect of being lost together forever was appealing, but he knew it wouldn't happen.

"Love you, too. So much." Axel leaned in and kissed the blond's forehead before they linked arms and turned away.

It was with disappointing ease that they found the way out and headed back to the masquerade party once again, covering themselves in the semblance of propriety. Once inside, Axel took a step away and picked up Roxas' hand. "'Til we meet again, milady." His lips burned through the thin fabric of Roxas' glove and the blond could only nod and silently watch Axel walk away from him and disappear into the crowd.

"I'll be waiting."

The promise of reunion singing through his veins, Roxas gracefully turned away towards the punch table, mostly to give his hands something to do so he wouldn't try to find the distinctive redhead in the crowd.

He was slowly, delicately sipping juice from a crystal glass when a voice emerged above the white noise of the party. "How have you been enjoying the evening, sister?"

Roxas let himself smile a little as he turned to face himself. "Hello, brother. It's been most pleasant." Their speech felt so fake and strained compared to his private conversation with Axel, and he hated the sound of his own toned-up voice.

"That's good to hear. You'll share the highlights with me later, won't you?"

Roxas relaxed a little at the knowing, conspiring gleam in his sister's eyes. "Of course." He gave Xion, standing close to Naminé's side and grinning as well, a quick smile. Oh. Right. "I have much I'd like to discuss with you."

His heart clenched a little as he thought of it. It felt like a colossal betrayal to think of marrying Xion now that Axel was back, but he also realized that he couldn't let his resolve to help his sister and best friend slip because of a doomed romance. Axel would understand, right?

"Then we can talk."

His chest pinched painfully, and he made himself turn away from the happy couple, knowing that he would never have anything like that; his earlier musings were correct, regardless of Axel's reemergence.

No matter their feelings or connection, Axel was a condemned criminal. Whether he was hiding his brand or not, the class-divide resulting from his low status meant they could never even be seen together. In fact, the more he thought of it, the more Roxas realized it would be much better for both of them to just pretend that their entire relationship never happened.

But he knew he didn't want to. Wasn't sure he could. The wildfire had been lit. He could only hope that they could manage not to get burnt too badly.

"My lady? Would you honour me with a dance?"

Though he wanted to cry, Roxas felt his lips lift, suddenly so grateful for the practiced habit. "Of course, sir." He half-turned to put down his glass.

Hard, unyielding, uncaring, a hand picked up his and it suddenly became so much harder not to scream and sob.