Summer, Salty Sweet

"Roxas! Whaddaya think?"

A groan. It was too hot for this. Outside the sun blazed at its full height, windows catching the light and sending summer shadows across the carpet. A salty breeze rattled the blinds. Shrill cries and screams caught on the wind, distant sounds of the beach mingling with the seashell wind chimes on their porch.

Every sucked. Everything stuck. Roxas's singlet stuck to his chest, his shorts stuck to his legs, and everything stuck to the faux leather of their couch. He moved and the whole thing clung to him. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his pits—gross. Summer had never been this bad over in Twilight Town, but for all that the beaches of Destiny Islands were beautiful, the weather sucked.

Stuck.

"Roxas?"

He scowled and sat, winced at the wet sound of his skin protesting its departure from faux leather paradise. The furniture in their summer house was all very modern for the Islands, but maybe that'd been a mistake. Sora and the others never mentioned struggles with clingy lounge room furniture. 

"Really can't take the heat, can you Roxas?"

"You don't have to be so shit-eating about—huh?" He tripped over the rest of his sentence, mouth hanging open as he stared at Axel, standing at the end of the short hall that connected their bedrooms and bathroom to the rest of their house. He had one hand on his hips, was grinning like a madman. Roxas blinked. "What are you wearing?"

"Like it?" Hand left hips so he could spread his arms out, give a little twirl for Roxas's benefit—just my bad luck. Even so, it was a laugh and not a scowl that escaped him.

Some part of Roxas recognised it wasn't that bad. Green and red worked well together—Axel's own features were a testament to that—but he'd gone a little further than most people went with that color combo. It was a miracle that he invoked the thing he did, as opposed to being unseasonably Christmassy.

The green shirt was the worst of it; a classic summer button-up. Short sleeves, light fabric, and in mottled shades of pale and deep green. He looked like an absolute fruit, spinning about in it. The shorts didn't help, knee-length and almost as red as his hair. Black jelly sandals finished the outfit—or maybe it was the enormous bug-eyed sunglasses plopped atop his head.

"Flashy huh?" Axel came to a stop, arms still spread.

"You look like a—a—" Roxas choked on his laughter.

"A handsome and fabulous individual of flaming disposition?"

"A watermelon."

"Hey!"

"Hey? Hey!? How can you not know what you look like?"

"Roxas!"

"How can you not know you look like a watermelon? Are you serious Axel?"

The exclamation bubbled, burst, spilled out as more laughter. It was hard not to when Axel's face was like that. Gaping mouth, wrinkled nose, furrowed brow. His arms were still held out to the sides, but now they questioned how Roxas could be so rude. It was so painfully melodramatic.

Of course Axel couldn't hold it for more than a second. His lips quirked and then he was laughing too. "Seriously?"

"Seriously! Go look in the mirror."

Axel did. His sandals clomped against the carpet and linoleum as he went, the only sound. Roxas held his breath and waited.

"Oh no!"

Roxas cackled.

He was still bent over the back of the couch when Axel returned, looking one-part embarrassed and one-part amused. The little quirk to his lips was enough for Roxas to feel perfectly content continuing to laugh at him. He can't be taking this too seriously after all.

Except...

There it was. His fruity green shirt really brought out the glint in his eyes. Roxas caught himself, laughter stuttering but still not quite ready to stop.

"Right, that's enough out of you," and Roxas was scrambling off the couch, Axel thumping around it.

"Aw come on Axel!"

"No. Now get over here. I've got a hot date for you."

The brief gesture he made to his armpits was all the encouragement Roxas needed to book it around the couch. They probably looked like idiots—Roxas felt like an idiot, running in weather like this— but there was no way, no way, he was letting Axel shove his head under his nasty pits.

They'd started to do that ridiculous little dance people always did when they were being chased around an object. Feint one side, feint the other, neither willing to gamble. Axel's grin was wild.

"Aren't you glad I told you before we went out?" Roxas exclaimed. "At least now when we meet up with everyone you can pretend it's intentional!"

"Nuh-uh Roxas. Now c'mon, don't you want a whiff of my fruity pits?"

"No! Gross man!"

"Like you haven't dealt worse!"

"The price of sharing a bed, Axel."

"Then you best be prepared Roxas," and shit, but Axel's stance had changed, more dangerous, "for the price of mocking my fruity threads."

"Oh get off Axel—agh!"

Axel was long—way too long, and Roxas should've expected him to leap over the couch eventually (because really, that was how this game always ended), but he still wasn't fast enough to escape being caught and yanked down.

It was all knees and elbows then—anything to avoid being trapped in Axel's armpits on a sweltering day. It was immature and ridiculous and the ultimate form of juvenile idiocy—and Roxas couldn't stop laughing, even as he took a foot to the gut. He gasped but did not relent.

"You're really all over the place huh?" Axel wheezed, twisting in his grip. He must've understood how vulnerable he'd made himself, knew that Roxas was going to kick his ass three ways to Twilight Town if he won this.

"Yeah?" Roxas huffed. He'd trapped Axel's chest with his weight but couldn't quite get his arms. Their legs were tangled together. They were sticky, couch squeaking as they shifted and squirmed, legs sweaty where they rubbed together. Gross but also...

Axel's eyes gleamed. They looked like that whenever he had some sort of revelation. "Well hey," he breathed, "maybe that works."

"What—oof!" A stray hand caught Roxas across the face. He halted the imminent fussing from Axel with a shake of the head. It's fine. "What works?"

"Well we've decided I'm a watermelon right?"

"I think I decided and you had to accept your fate."

"Fine, fair enough. So you decided I was a watermelon, right? Now what do you associate with watermelon?"

Roxas frowned. "Water?"

"Wrong," Axel grinned. "C'mon, it reminds me of you right now?"

"Er...summer?"

"Oh, poetic, but no. Though...do you really think I've got poetic potential baby?"

"I've read your diary."

"Oof, that's not—"

Roxas pressed his forehead against Axel's, still trying to grab his arms. "I like it, okay?"

Axel flushed. "Okay."

"Now, uh, not summer? Then...sunset?"

"No, Roxas, baby, you're going about this all wrong, it's—"

"Sea salt ice cream?"

"Closer! But wrong still. C'mon, what goes with watermelon and reminds me of you right now?"

The word came to mind but Roxas didn't say it. Was it to tease? Maybe. The heat made him want to get things over and done with—but it also made him want to irritate, annoy, and pester, just to release all the frustration that pent up inside when one was weighed down by summer's lethargy.

And maybe...well, maybe he also wanted Axel to say it. Dork.

"I've got nothing," he said, rubbing their noses together. Green eyes grew hazy. Roxas grinned. "What're you thinking of Axel?

"I was..." He trailed off, words slowing even as his heartbeat kicked up. Roxas could feel it against his, thundering away. The rest of the summer sounds got lost in it; his heartbeat and the growing buzz between them.

"Hm?"

"Pretzels. Y'know that thing you talked about in Twilight Town a couple of times. Watermelon and pretzels, the best treats for the beach."

"Not ice cream?"

"Ice cream's what you get after work, babe. The salty and the sweet."

"Isn't that just what watermelon and pretzels are separately?"

Axel laughed. "Oh shut up, it's just different alright?"

"Alright, I believe you."

Roxas leant in, pressed a kiss to his lips. His fingers wrapped around Axel's wrists then trailed up to twine their fingers together. They left them hanging over the arm rest, lazy.

Outside the air was still sweltering, leaking in with the sea salt breeze and wind chimes and the screaming kids down at the beach. The hum in the air was as much tension as it was summer insects come to life, singing outside as Roxas rolled his hips against Axel's. Soft, wet kisses. Short, sharp gasps. The taste of sweat, salty, and the flush of cheeks, sweet.

They weren't quite lazy enough to finish in their pants—wouldn't want Axel to ruin his new outfit after all. Instead they kicked them off just before they came, then cuddled on the couch after, sticky and sated.

"So Pretzel?"

"Yes Watermelon?"

"D'ya still wanna go out?"

"Dunno. It's so hot. I'm fine just staying inside."

"The beach'll be cool though, and there's ice cream and pretzels and watermelon."

The wind chimes danced in a gentle breeze, couch leather creaking as Roxas snuggled closer to Axel. It was hot, too hot, but somehow it still felt nice to drowse together. He wasn't quite gross enough not to wipe them down with a tissue first, but once he did the idea of napping on Axel all afternoon became too inviting to resist.

"Wanna stay in," he mumbled.

"I kinda wanna show off my new threads though," Axel sighed.

Roxas laughed. "Really?"

"Yeah, I like 'em."

"They're cute," he admitted. "But you do look kind of like a watermelon."

"Refreshing and summery?"

"Sure, I guess. Not sure what that makes me though."

"Cute and salty."

"Cute?"

"I mean, have you seen pretzels? They're bendy biscuit bread—that's gotta count as cute, right? Right?"

He sounded so desperate. Roxas buried his face against his boyfriend's sweaty, smelly neck and cackled.

They stayed like that a while—the sun still high, too high for them to want to scorch themselves beneath it. Outside the breeze was growing, seashells informing them it'd be strong enough soon to cool the air, wash out the midday heat and replace it with a pleasant evening warmth.

Until then, Roxas and Axel would stay inside, stuck to their couch and tangled in each other.

 

---

 

"This is your Walk of Shame I hope you know!" Hayner hollered from the beach.

Roxas and Axel had arrived to their friends already gathered, Sora tossing a beach ball back and forth with Olette and Kairi, the others setting up a net, lounging on deck chairs, splashing in the waves. The sun wasn't sinking just yet, but the sky was already taking on that late noon hue—promise of the dusk to come.

"Oh hey, Roxas, Axel, you—" Sora exclaimed, then stopped. Stared. "Are you guys...?"

Roxas didn't blush, just grinned. His outfit had been wrangled together out of the summer scraps in his closet and whatever he could find at Destiny Islands' commercial strip. A golden-to-beige baggy tee now accompanied brown sandals and shorts, the latter covered in white dots. The finishing touch—a pair of black sunnies—couldn't really make the outfit cool but—

It matched Axel's look. That was what mattered.

"Watermelon and pretzels!" Sora exclaimed. "So cool!"

"Aw gross, couple outfits!" Hayner complained.

"Aw cute, couple outfits!" Olette giggled at the same time.

"Let's get a photo!" Pence said, "C'mon everyone, gather round the food stand mascots!"

"Wait, wait, I'm starving!" Hayner said. "Can't we do this later?"

"No now, now! Look everyone grab an ice cream and we'll take the shot!" Olette said.

So Sora ran around passing out sea salt ice creams while Riku and Pence set up the camera tripod. The rest of them gathered, waited for the stragglers to position themselves. Pence set the timer and ran.

"Okay three, two, one!"

Snap.

 

---

 

Later, Roxas would look at the photo and laugh, sweaty self plastered once again to the couch. The image of all their friends gathered beneath the sinking afternoon sun, bright beach shirts and shorts and swimsuits, ice creams in hand, surrounding two dorks dressed as watermelon and pretzels...

Well it was something worth remembering.

Guess summer doesn't suck so much after all.

With that thought, he settled his head back on Axel's chest and drifted off to the sound of seashell wind chimes.