Let's party in my Kookie Jar.

I have missed doing these ridiculous roxas-going-about-his-day-only-to-be-molested-by-redhaired-men doodles.

Oh, and here, have another silly drabble to go with it. I’m going to bed. GOODNIGHTS MY LOVES <3

~~~~~~

Roxas weaves through the crowds, hands taking care to keep the tray of champagne steady. A tall woman brushes by him, almost knocking him off balance, and he hastily recovers himself as she turns to look at him. Clearing his throat, he offers the drinks in a soft voice through a quivering smile, only to have the lady stare down at him haughtily with her piercing eyes before walking away without a word. He stamps down the urge to mutter a curse and continues through the lavishly dressed throng of people. It hasn’t been easy waiting on the arrogant aristocrats night after night, but so long as it gives him a place to stay, he figures he can endure it until the end of the night.

Several people pluck drinks from his tray as he passes by, giving him barely a wink of acknowledgment, to his relief. Their attention, he can do without; the verbal abuse the Mistress Maleficant puts him through during preparation hours is more than enough. He looks up to find the tray barren, and he quickly plays on the idea of hiding out in the library for a few minutes for rest. Before he could act on the thought, he spies the Mistress keeping a close watch on him from across the room. The raven perched on her staff perks when it catches Roxas in his vision. Immediately, Roxas turns away, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead, and he squirrels away towards the kitchen to replenish his tray.

He gets a moment’s reprieve, pouring the bubbly liquid into the flutes a little slower than usual. His rest comes to an end when his tray is once again full, and he makes his way back out into the atrium. By now, all the guests would have arrived, and they would all be looking forward to the hors d’oeuvres instead of drinks. As expected, his tray is left untouched, now with everyone seeking something a little heavier to whet their appetite. Though the ladies were all in heels and gowns, and the men in pressed tuxedos, they all resemble vultures as they claw for the morsels of food passing them.

 With his tray still full, he sees two gentlemen idling by the entrance, hands empty and without a drink. He notices their red hair, and finds himself confused as to who they are. He doesn’t recognize them, and if they had attended Maleficant’s banquets before, he would have remembered their faces at least. He finds it strange they are lingering out in the foyer apart from the other guests, but suddenly seeks the opportunity to escape from the dense throng. He looks around for any sign of his Mistress, and with no eyes on him Roxas takes in a breath and strolls out towards them, a practiced smile on his face.

The two men are engaged in a hushed conversation, though they immediately take notice of the blond servant as he approaches.

“Fancy a glass of champagne, gentlemen?” Roxas says. There is a pause, and Roxas is taken aback at the intensity of the gazes on him. He is used to the upperclassmen staring at him as if he were vermin, a lowly slave who doesn’t have a place in their prestigious world, but he has never seen a look as these two men are giving him now.

He hesitates just slightly, before raising his tray and offering again. “Won’t you join us in the atrium? Mistress Maleficant is surely waiting to welcome you.”

The first man, with sweeps of crimson under his eyes, speaks first, though his response is not for Roxas at all. “It really is him, Axel. You’re right, yo.”

“Of course I’m right, Reno,” the man called Axel quips, shifting his gaze towards the blond. He responds with a mischievous grin, “I’d recognize those eyes anywhere.”

Roxas blinks, suddenly unsure what situation he has just stepped into. An uncomfortable feeling threads itself into his chest, and he takes a step back as he gives the two men a once-over. “I’m sorry, if you two are not having a drink I should get back—”

“Roxas,” Reno interrupts, “they really did a doozy on you, didn’t they?”

He flusters, stammering, “I’m sorry? I don’t—”

“Christ, you really don’t remember.” There is a likeness of disappointment in Axel’s voice, and for whatever reason, Roxas feels guilty for it. “What the hell did that witch do to you?”

“Shit, tearing this place apart is going to be harder than I thought.”

The blond blinks, and stares dumbfounded. “You…if you two are not attendants of the banquet, I require you to leave.”

The two redheads exchange glances, and they simultaneously move to grab hold of the smaller male.

“What are you—mmph!” A hand covers his mouth, and he finds himself being dragged into the adjacent corridor. With his hands full, and his unwillingness to drop the tray, Roxas is helplessly maneuvered into the hallway by the two males.

“Axel, tell me you’ve thought this through,” Reno whispers, tightening his hand over Roxas’ mouth as he holds him against his chest.

Roxas wheezes against his restraints, looking worried as Axel holds his arms still, the champagne quivering on their delicate stems between them.

“Look, I told you they’d be holding Roxas captive, but I didn’t expect it to be this bad. I didn’t think they’d wipe his goddamned memory, alright?” Axel hisses, looking forlorn. Only then does Roxas realize Axel’s hold has relaxed and his thumbs are drawing gentle, affectionate circles on his forearms.

Reno’s chest heaves in a sigh, and hugs the blond tighter against him. “Well, I have a good idea to make you learn my name real fast again…but this isn’t the right time” he mumbles, and the servant feels a chill run down his back. In front of him, Axel looks less than impressed with the suggestion.

“Not now, you asshole,” Axel groans, and returns his gaze to the blond. “Listen carefully, Roxas, we’re not here to hurt you. We need you to help us.” He reaches into his jacket, pulling out a small gem, cut to the shape of a heart, and holds it up. “I don’t know how much you remember, but do you remember what this is?”

Nervously, Roxas shakes his head no.

“They’re Hearts belonging to Kingdom Hearts. Long story short, we need it, and that Mistress of yours has one in her possession. You belong with us, Roxas, the Organization, and we need you to help us get the Heart back. She stole the Heart from us and took you with her. Don’t trust her, got it?”

Roxas muffles around Reno’s hand, and Reno peels his hand away, only to secure itself on Roxas’s stomach. “And what makes you think I’ll trust you.”

There is a moment of silence when neither redheads respond.

“We’re not going to give you a choice on that matter,” Reno answers, mouth hot against Roxas’ ear. Roxas winces, feeling his face heat up from the contact, and he tries to pull away.

“Stop it—”

“Reno is right,” Axel murmurs, reaching up to take hold of Roxas’ jaw, fixing the blond’s attention on him, “you will help us get that Heart back, whether you like it or not, Roxas. By the end of tonight, this entire fucking estate is going to be one hot mess, and you’re going to find yourself in a hell of a lot more trouble if you don’t help us on this. Do I make myself clear?” At Roxas’ frightened expression, Axel caresses his chin with his thumb. “We promise we won’t let you get hurt, alright? I’m just saying it’s going to be a lot harder for us if you don’t have our backs on this.”

By now, Roxas’ hands are shaking, the glasses clinking against each other on the tray. “But I don’t—I don’t know who you are. What do you want with me?”

Hands smooth themselves down his sides, and Roxas turns his head to look at Reno from the corner of his vision. “What the Organization wants is the Hearts,” Reno says, lowering his mouth until he is sensually brushing against the skin of Roxas’ cheek. Roxas feels his breath catch in his throat when Reno continues, voice dropping to a hush. “What we want, however, is you. We want you back, Sunshine.”

Before he could react, Axel turns his head to face him and he places a soft kiss against his lips. His blue eyes widen in shock, only to flutter close when Reno’s mouth presses itself against the side of his neck. He shakes in their hold, and almost drops the tray when the cold champagne spills all over his fingers.

He feels Reno daringly plant an open-mouthed kiss on him, and he stifles a moan, forcing himself to sober up from the moment and hiss out a warning, “don’t—please don’t! I-If Maleficant, or anyone—she’s going to—”

“Kill us,” Axel says bluntly, moving to pull Reno by the hair and drawing a pained grunt from him. “There’ll be plenty of time for catching up after we get this done, Reno.”

Roxas feels his heart stop at the suggestive promise, and shivers from the sudden loss of heat against him when Reno releases him.

“Fine,” the redhead says, straightening his suit, “but fuck it, Roxas, you better get this done fast. I want to see that Heart in our hands before the bombs go off tonight.”

“Bombs—?!”

“Yeah, that’s right. There’s gonna be one hell of a fireworks tonight, thanks to Rude’s masterpiece.” He takes a glance up towards his red-haired partner. “Give him the thing, Ax.”

Axel pulls out several other objects from his jacket, this time a small vial containing a clear liquid and what looks like an tiny microphone. Without hesitation, he unbuttons the first few fastenings on Roxas’s shirt, to the blond’s absolute horror, and sticks the narrow wire against his chest before redoing the buttons. He presses the delicate vial into Roxas’ pant pocket and says, “it’s a sedating truth serum. Put it into the Mistresses’ dinner. Within an hour she should be one tipsy broad, and that’s when you ask her where the Heart is. We’re going to hear everything you say. We just need you to look pretty for us and play it cool until we come and get you out of here.”

Without further explanation, Reno spins the blond around, and pecks him on the mouth before rising up again to throw an arm around Axel. “Well, then, I think you better get back to work, Mr. Servant.” The two men walk back out into the foyer, arms secure around one another, heading towards the party room this time. Roxas, fumbling with the spilled drinks in his hands, is left shell-shocked behind them. He intended on only waiting on snobbish people tonight and going back to bed to repeat everything tomorrow, and now he finds himself dumbstruck with the new, peculiar role forced on him.