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natininatini: conigliomannaro: natininatini: conigliomannaro: nijuukoo: Hope you feel better, sweetie! ♥ So I wrote this for the anon, I hope you or them don’t mind ;3; — At first, Roxas sulked. Surgery as a general concept didn’t exactly enthral him, but if he was left to walk with a cast it would have been another thing; the idea of having to ride a wheelchair for a while – and then face physiotherapy – made him nervous. There were too many variables in the game, and Roxas – mister I’m-in-control – didn’t like to play with hidden cards. It took him a while to come to terms with it – and even longer to want to talk about it with anybody. Xion knew – she was his sister – and he had had a hard time convincing Sora to keep his mouth shut, but there was someone else he’d need to talk to, before he got off the radar; it wasn’t like they were dating – were they? – but still. The idea of suddenly dropping off of the face of Earth without ringing Axel first – and then reappearing on a wheelchair – seemed kind of mean.: Axel would probably freak out; he had massive mother henning tendencies, at times, and even though it was kind of endearing, sometimes it was kind of overwhelming. At first, Roxas sulked. But then, he told Axel. One never knew what to expect from Axel: one day he could be clingy and helpful, affectionate to the point of nauseam, and the next he could sneer at people and snark them until their skin was on fire. Roxas hadn’t exactly been hopeful, when he had called Axel from his hospital bed, but as usual, Axel was anything but predictable. Over the next few days, Roxas was acquainted with a few sides of his best friend he had never had a chance of noticing before. Axel could cook – and smuggled churros in his hospital room pretty much every day. Axel liked reading pulling his knees to his chest and chewing on the nail of his thumb. When he reached a part he particularly liked, or when he was deep in thoughts, his forehead creased and two twin dimpled formed on his cheeks as he pursed his lips. Axel yawned. All. The. Time. Axel came in whenever the nurses weren’t looking, and sat by Roxas’ bed chattering the day away while Roxas tried not to find the whole deal too endearing. The kid was never very lucky, with that task: half the time, Axel was being a complete goofball and it was ridiculously nice. Scary nice, actually. Then, Roxas got out of the hospital. He expected Axel’s constant nursing to let off a little, but it didn’t happen. His best friend practically took residence on Roxas’ couch, cooked breakfast for him, pushed his wheelchair in the park to get him to take some fresh air – Axel, you don’t have to push me around, I can do it by myself – and it all felt right. Nice. Fair. Familiar. Like it was what they always had been, and not a confusing, not completely unexpected yet not at all foreseen development of their relationship. Axel slept in awful position on Roxas’ couch, ate all his chips, left the sink all dirty when he shaved and used all of Roxas’ after shave, which costed a fortune, yet Roxas never really felt like bitching at him. It was nice. It was endearing, all of it. At night, they’d watch stupid movies in Roxas’ bed, lying under a pile of blankets, and Roxas would fall asleep on Axel’s chest only to wake up alone, the morning after, and feel oddly disappointed. He didn’t want to wake up alone. He didn’t want Axel to move to the couch, sleeping alone in another room while Roxas himself was there, too small and too cold in a too big, too empty bed. It was a cold night of January, when Roxas decided that they had danced around it long enough. He had been dozing off for a while, struggling to keep himself awake, and finally Axel began to cautiously roll away, thinking he was asleep. He reached a hand out, grabbed Axel’s shoulder and muttered, drowsily: “No. Stay.” When he woke up, the next morning, Axel was snoring next to him, sleeping in one of his worst positions yet. Roxas smiled, softly. That also felt right. Like that was how it was supposed to be. Like he finally was home. ;A; this made me very happy indeed and the date of my surgery draws ever closer.  MUCH LUFFS FOR YHEW AND YOUR FLUFF <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 -from “anon but not so anon anymore”  YE’RE WELCOME PRECIOUS CREATURE LET ME HUG YOU So I had my surgery last week, came home all high off the pain relief and ended up sending this to Erin and forgot about it. It’s the best thing I’ve ever written in my life
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natininatini:

conigliomannaro:

natininatini:

conigliomannaro:

nijuukoo:

Hope you feel better, sweetie! ♥

So I wrote this for the anon, I hope you or them don’t mind ;3;

—

At first, Roxas sulked. Surgery as a general concept didn’t exactly enthral him, but if he was left to walk with a cast it would have been another thing; the idea of having to ride a wheelchair for a while – and then face physiotherapy – made him nervous. There were too many variables in the game, and Roxas – mister I’m-in-control – didn’t like to play with hidden cards.

It took him a while to come to terms with it – and even longer to want to talk about it with anybody. Xion knew – she was his sister – and he had had a hard time convincing Sora to keep his mouth shut, but there was someone else he’d need to talk to, before he got off the radar; it wasn’t like they were dating – were they? – but still. The idea of suddenly dropping off of the face of Earth without ringing Axel first – and then reappearing on a wheelchair – seemed kind of mean.: Axel would probably freak out; he had massive mother henning tendencies, at times, and even though it was kind of endearing, sometimes it was kind of overwhelming.

At first, Roxas sulked.

But then, he told Axel.

One never knew what to expect from Axel: one day he could be clingy and helpful, affectionate to the point of nauseam, and the next he could sneer at people and snark them until their skin was on fire. Roxas hadn’t exactly been hopeful, when he had called Axel from his hospital bed, but as usual, Axel was anything but predictable.

Over the next few days, Roxas was acquainted with a few sides of his best friend he had never had a chance of noticing before.

Axel could cook – and smuggled churros in his hospital room pretty much every day.

Axel liked reading pulling his knees to his chest and chewing on the nail of his thumb. When he reached a part he particularly liked, or when he was deep in thoughts, his forehead creased and two twin dimpled formed on his cheeks as he pursed his lips.

Axel yawned. All. The. Time.

Axel came in whenever the nurses weren’t looking, and sat by Roxas’ bed chattering the day away while Roxas tried not to find the whole deal too endearing.

The kid was never very lucky, with that task: half the time, Axel was being a complete goofball and it was ridiculously nice. Scary nice, actually.

Then, Roxas got out of the hospital. He expected Axel’s constant nursing to let off a little, but it didn’t happen. His best friend practically took residence on Roxas’ couch, cooked breakfast for him, pushed his wheelchair in the park to get him to take some fresh air – Axel, you don’t have to push me around, I can do it by myself – and it all felt right. Nice. Fair. Familiar. Like it was what they always had been, and not a confusing, not completely unexpected yet not at all foreseen development of their relationship.

Axel slept in awful position on Roxas’ couch, ate all his chips, left the sink all dirty when he shaved and used all of Roxas’ after shave, which costed a fortune, yet Roxas never really felt like bitching at him. It was nice. It was endearing, all of it. At night, they’d watch stupid movies in Roxas’ bed, lying under a pile of blankets, and Roxas would fall asleep on Axel’s chest only to wake up alone, the morning after, and feel oddly disappointed. He didn’t want to wake up alone. He didn’t want Axel to move to the couch, sleeping alone in another room while Roxas himself was there, too small and too cold in a too big, too empty bed.

It was a cold night of January, when Roxas decided that they had danced around it long enough. He had been dozing off for a while, struggling to keep himself awake, and finally Axel began to cautiously roll away, thinking he was asleep.

He reached a hand out, grabbed Axel’s shoulder and muttered, drowsily: “No. Stay.”

When he woke up, the next morning, Axel was snoring next to him, sleeping in one of his worst positions yet.

Roxas smiled, softly. That also felt right. Like that was how it was supposed to be.

Like he finally was home.

;A; this made me very happy indeed and the date of my surgery draws ever closer. 

MUCH LUFFS FOR YHEW AND YOUR FLUFF <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

-from “anon but not so anon anymore” 

YE’RE WELCOME PRECIOUS CREATURE LET ME HUG YOU

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So I had my surgery last week, came home all high off the pain relief and ended up sending this to Erin and forgot about it. It’s the best thing I’ve ever written in my life

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