#anyway it was a fic where there was a courthouse newspaper

[fandomaddict505]

OKAY LOOK I KNOW IVE ALREADY POSTED A LOT BUT

THIS???? THIS IS CANON???? I JUST READ A FIC CENTERED AROUND THIS BUT I 100% ASSUMED IT WAS THE AUTHOR’S HEADCANON

[creamypudding]

Hey! I wrote this in a little bit over a week, and it shows XD But I needed a break from the current fic I’m writing so here you go. Please enjoy :)

Chapter 1/3

Title: Bridging the Gap Between You and I Fandom: Kingdom Hearts - Modern AU Pairing: Axel/Roxas Chapter Rating: Mature

Summary: Roxas is the gatekeeper of the courthouse car park. Axel is a daily customer and the highlight of Roxas’ day. Little does he know he is also the highlight of Axel’s.

Chapter 1 - Cold Booths and Warm Baths

It was a grey misty morning, the air delivering a sharp chill to his bones as he shuffled towards the tiny shelter, which also doubled as his workstation. He rubbed his hands and blew on his gloved appendages, hurrying the closer he got to his destination.

Knocking on the small guard door hurt, the cold still biting into him. Moments later a clasp was undone and a lock clicked from within. A warm wedge of light greeted Roxas and even warmer air melted the icicles forming around his eyelashes.

“Quick, quick. All the heat’s getting out!” a dark shadow blocking out the light informed.

Roxas pushed in, door locked shut behind and he sighed with relief, shaking droplets of melted snow off his jacket in the too small toll booth that was going to be his home for the next 12 hours.

“You walk here? In this weather?” incredulity bathed the words.

Roxas nodded, disrobing and hanging up his coat on the back of the door. “I live real close by. Across the river.”

“Don’t you drive?” the man gave a visible shudder.

“I like walking,” Roxas shrugged dismissively. It wasn't anyone business but his own why he didn’t drive, or own a car. The answer was simple: he had no money, hence the job, really. But he didn’t have to explain himself to others.

“Still pretty crazy if you ask me, to go walking in below thirty temps.” The grizzly-haired and leather-faced man grabbed his coat, scarf and gloves. “Names Florentino. But people call me Flo.”

“Roxas. Just Roxas.” He tacked on a smile.

“You’re crazy Roxas. But nice to meet ya anyway.” They shook hands before Florentino covered up with the woven-fabric glove. “You know how everything works? This here opens the boom gate. The sensors will know when to shut it again. Give ‘em their time stamp ticket, have a chat asking their business if you feel like you’re going out of your mind, and then take their tickets on their way back out. No cash. No exceptions. They got no ticket they ain't leaving. Machine’s in the courthouses main foyer. They got no excuses.”

Roxas nodded. “I got the welcome pack and Mike gave me the tour.”

“Good old Mike. I’m gonna miss seeing that sonofabitch,” Florentino laughed. He shook the lapels of his coat and double checked his buttons were all done up. “They still stuff that welcome pack folder full of useless B.S on how court proceedings work?”

“Yep. It did come with a cute stress ball gavel, so it wasn’t a total waste.”

Florentino laughed. “Nice. I assume Mike showed ya how everything in here works?

“Yup. Microwave under the desk, radio’s over there, walkie-talkie to the in-house security guards to be used if I’ve got some trouble out here or if I gotta take a leak.”

“Yup. Watch for the lawyers. They rage hard as fuck. Think they’re the most important people walking on the planet.” Florentino rolled his eyes and wrapped his scarf around himself. He looked like he was ready for a deep arctic exploration. “You got any questions write 'em down and ask me when I come back to relieve you. Good luck.” With that Florentino left, ushering in a flurry of snow and frigid air.

Roxas shivered and moved closer to the small space heater tucked into a corner and was left alone. He stood, warming his hands and looked around himself.

Everything was where he had remembered seeing it last week. The small radio played some classic rock. Stacks of newspapers and magazines littered the small bench, which was the control centre for the whole carpark operation. Roxas gave them a closer look but recoiled at the sight of the Playboy. He wondered what would happen if his copies of Gay Times found their way in here. Roxas chuckled and settled down, pushing the control buttons to get the hang of this incredibly tough job.

The early morning was quiet, but also not completely devoid of any action, which surprised him. Cars were still parked in the open air carpark behind him. As he collected tickets and had brief conversations he found out it was mostly cleaning and some very overworked civic staff who were heading home for the day.

Around eight o’clock there came a steady stream of vehicles of all different makes and models, seeking entry into the carpark. Roxas got a very quick understanding that the courthouse attracted people from literally all walks of life. Rich and poor, old and young, a vast rainbow of ethnic diversity, and a very mixed bag of emotional responses. Some were incredibly tense, others nervous, asking Roxas a million questions to which he could only answer where the entrance to the courthouse was and where the washroom facilities were located. And then there were the lawyers. Usually heralded by the approach of a flashy car and a belittling attitude.

“Hurry up, kid, I haven’t go all day!”

“They’ve really let their standards fall.”

“Where’s Mike? He’d have this boom gate open for me already.”

“Don’t talk to me, just get this thing open and gimmie that stub.”

He received some vicious glares, but Roxas soon forgot about all that as he then received the most pleasant interaction for that morning, “Oh hey, you’re new. They finally got rid of that old codger, Mike?” The words were accompanied by the most gorgeous, relaxed, and gravelly laugh Roxas had ever heard.

“He’s retired.”

“About time. Seeing his face every morning was by far the most depressing part of the day. Having to see it at the end of the day made everything slightly worse somehow.”

“He seemed all right to me,” Roxas defended with great indifference.

“Well, Mike had his moments, I guess. But seeing you every day- now that’s a vast improvement. About time this place got some sunshine.” The man winked and took his ticket from Roxas’ hand, while he stared, heart aflutter.

Roxas could easily feel himself turning red. “Ah, thanks. You’re nice to look a too.” Roxas’ skin must have turned a shade of red equal to the man’s stunning hair after those dumb words left his mouth.

Another glorious laugh erupted. “I’m glad the feeling’s mutual. I’m Axel, by the way.”

Axel. Roxas became lost for a moment in what a ridiculously sexy name that was for an equally sexy being. Another smaller laugh drew him out of his hormonal haze. “Ah, I’m Roxas.”

“Pleased to meetcha, Roxas.”

His name rolling off that tongue made his knees weak. Thank goodness he was sitting down.

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