Awww lap rests ; A ; Roxas looks so sweet.

blhhhfsagfkksa i like uhm don't like kh and uhh generally fanart just pisses me but

this is drawn too awsome i could resisssttttt *u*

fabulous!

This is one of those pieces you physically feel; like you can feel the hair and the skin and the weight and the warmth just by looking at it. Maybe it's the lines or the coloring or the poses or the depth but I tend to think that you just have a gift for speaking in a language that everyone subconciously understands through your art. And that is a truly great gift that you put to great use, so thank you for sharing it.

It hadn't always been this easy, fitting together like they were cut in half, Plato's perfect forms ripped apart so that they matched up seamlessly everywhere, at the mouth, at the hips. Roxas didn't believe in fate or God, but it felt like he was made to be with Axel, engineered to be as close as humanly possible to him. Then, after the accident but before Axel had woken up, he wondered if fate or the God he didn't believe in had this planned all along.

Axel had facial reconstructive surgery on a collapsed cheekbone, had his hair shaved off as they opened up his skull, poked around in his brain. No one was drunk, no one was high. It was just an accident. An accident. When Roxas got the call, he thought Axel just got beat up, got his face smashed with someone's left headlight. His stomach sunk, because--let's be honest--Axel was hot, and it would suck if he wasn't anymore. But, Roxas figured, he loved Axel anyway, planned on loving him when they were old and gross, so he'd love him even if he was gross now. Yeah, it sucked, but it didn't matter. When he was admitted to post-op recovery, when he saw how they shaved Axel's hair off and his whole left side seemed to be encased, his entire gorgeous face a blue and yellow bruise, Roxas darted from the room and brought up his dinner in the hallway. He woke up in a bed after they sedated him, a doctor calmly explaining that Axel was lucky to be alive, had suffered minor brain damage. Would have to learn to walk again, would have to learn to talk.

It was, literally, the worst fucking thing Roxas had ever heard.

Axel woke up from the coma a day later, unable to do much aside from spit and moan incoherently, right side of his body flailing under tubes and monitors. He didn't recognize Roxas. Three months later he didn't recognize Roxas, hardly recognized his parents. And then, when Roxas was ready to give up on the Axel he'd known, ready to fight his way back to the top by befriending this new, slow, difficult Axel, the redhead remembered him.

Roxas had gotten off work early, was still in his dorky Best Buy outfit, and decided to visit Axel a little earlier than usual. He'd walked in, ready to introduce himself--"Hey, Ax. It's me, Roxas, again. Just wanted to drop by..."--when Axel looked up from the Rubik's cube in his hand and beamed.

"Hey, babe." It was a poor approximation of speech, a lilting stutter that dropped off, paralytic, on one side, but it was Axel.

Roxas promptly burst into tears, bounded to Axel's side and pressed his lips to the redhead's... only be met with unresponsive rigidness right before Axel started screaming. Roxas explained to the nurses that he'd remembered, that he'd seen it in Axel's face and heard it in his voice, the way he'd greeted him a million times when he'd dropped in on Roxas while he was at work. A good sign, they said, but not indicative of rehabilitation. In fact, it was more luck than real progress. But that was enough to make Roxas hold on.

He went out and bought the cologne he'd worn when they first started dating. He wore his work clothes with more frequency. Brought Axel take out from places they'd been together. And while, at first, Axel was weary, would tense when Roxas held him, nuzzled into his neck (because he still smelled the same, still felt the same, and god, oh god, please), eventually he came around. A year later Axel was back at home with his parents. He didn't work, didn't drive, didn't do much of anything other than look at old photos, listen to old records, practice his talking, his motor skills. And spend time with Roxas.

It was rough, his whole life stalled around a falling star, but it was worth it. Three years later and he was still in his dead end job pushing computers on suspecting consumers, he was still splitting rent on a two bedroom four ways with guys he could barely stand, but it was worth it. Axel worked in a bakery, smiled a lot and spoke very little. It was a far cry from the A&R job he'd had at Interscope, but it was something. It was something when Axel would initiate things, pulling Roxas close and kissing him, trailing his hands over Roxas' body. It was something when they sat in the park, Axel's head cradled in his lap while Roxas read The Sound and the Fury aloud, a book Axel had simultaneously hated and adored. His hair had grown back, face healed to a distinctly Axel perfection, and these moments felt complete, felt full, destined. So maybe Axel would never go back to the loudmouthed, arrogant sonofabitch Roxas loved. Maybe he would never toss Roxas on a bed and fuck him. Would never do infuriating, charming things.

It didn't even come close to mattering.

that pose looks so comfy :3

cute!!

Aw, really cute. I love how Roxas' hair looks!