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The first time it happens, Altare chalks it up to coincidence.
He’s entering the guild hall while Axel’s trudging his way outside — the gladiator lost in his own world, as always, humming a jaunty tune under his breath — when Altare decides to spook him by shouting, “Hey Axel!” directly into his ear. Just because he can.
Granted, a shout from Altare isn’t exactly startling. He’s not the type of guy that’s known to be mega loud.
But Axel had shot right up, eyes widening, and there it was — his cybernetic ears popping into action with a click, shining a warm sunset hue to match Axel’s sunny grin.
Cute. Altare thinks.
“Hey, boss man!” Axel’s arm hooks around his shoulder immediately, dragging him into a chokehold as he ruffles the absolute heck out of Altare’s hair, despite the guild leader’s blabbering protest. “Took you long enough! I was about to tell everyone you fell off a cliff and died or something. Would’ve been kinda ass if we had to find a new guy to put in charge.”
“I’d hope you’d be a bit more concerned if I died.”
“Nah, nah,” Axel swings him around, and Altare just lets himself be tossed like a ragdoll. “I know you ain’t dying that easy. You’re scary as shit. I’m telling you, if you fell off a cliff, that cliff would be living in fear for the rest of its life.”
“I’m not that scary,” Altare remarks, amused.
“That’s what they all say. Living in denial ain’t a good look on you, man. You scary as shit, yo.”
“I’m not scary,” Altare shoves him off of himself, rolling his eyes when Axel yelps and clutches his chest like he’s just been stung. “I’m just a sweet, innocent little guy.”
“Fucking bullshit,” Axel mutters, his cybernetics still twinkling orange on the crown of his head. “The smaller people are, the closer they are to hell.”
Altare scoffs. “What does that make Flayon and Hakka, then? They’re shorter than me.”
“Yeah, and those two are little hell spawns, Altare,” Axel shudders dramatically, like there’s a cold gust of wind blowing through. “You can’t defend those dudes. They’re some cheeky little shits, that’s what they are.”
“Well, I think they’re sweet.”
“Dang, well, I think you’re wrong. As always.”
Altare flicks him.
Axel snorts in laughter, leaping back like he’s going to run away.
What he really does is round Altare’s other side, away from any flicking fingers, and swings his arm around his shoulder again.
“Anyway,” Axel continues, eyes shining and cybernetics blinking curiously. If his tails were attached to his body, Altare thinks he might have wagged them. “Now that you’re back, wanna get a huge box of chips and see who can fit more into our mouths at once? Bet I could beat you by twenty. Easily. Loser has to jump in the lake.”
Altare grins. “Oh, you’re so on.”
The second time it happens, Altare chalks it up to Axel being drunk.
The funny thing about having multiple guild members with cybernetic attachments is that, yes, sometimes Hakka’s wings will unfurl and smack someone in the face, and yes, sometimes, Axel’s glowing ears will activate when Axel’s had a few too many beers and Altare is trying to drag him back to the guild hall without making a big fuss of it.
“Dude, come on,” Altare hunches a bit under the gladiator’s weight. Axel, being completely unhelpful in this instance, is happily blabbing about seasoning fried axelotl with smashed up popcorn, or some silly thing like that. “I’m not carrying you. You’re heavy. Use your feet.”
Axel just leans on him harder.
“I’m sure you’re strong enough to handle it,” the gladiator says brightly, practically tripping onto Altare as his leader tries to steady him. “What do you think about, like, honey popcorn with chili sauce? The sweet stuff counteracts the spicy, right? Even people with baby taste buds like you could probably survive. Sounds tasty, doesn’t it?”
“Axel,” he sighs, breathing out annoyance. “Walk properly.”
The telltale click of ears activating sounds softly through the night, emanating a red glow in the moonlit dark.
“You sure you couldn’t carry me?” Axel teases, but it’s more subdued, like his energy from all the excitement is starting to slip — his voice is rough, teetering on sleepy. “I’ll behave, if you do.”
“You wouldn’t know what behave means even if it slapped you in the face.”
“C’mon, Altare,” and Altare is all too conscious of how drunk Axel must be, because now he’s burying his face into the side of Altare’s hood. “Carry me.”
“You can walk.” Altare says. He pats Axel on the head. His hair is a lot softer than it looks, the spikes giving way to his palm, blond strands melding into streaks of light red. “You can do it, Axel. One step at a time, let’s go.”
“Okay, okay,” Axel mutters, leaning into the touch. Altare turns so he doesn’t get stabbed by way of glowing triangular cyber-ear. “But next time, you… you gotta carry me. I wanna see your stupid ass try and lift me.”
“You just want to be spoiled, don’t you?”
“Nah, it’s not like that,” He giggles to himself, swaying tiredly. “You’re a hero or some shit, right? Sweep me… sweep me off my feet.”
Altare laughs. “We’ll see.”
He doesn’t say anything else as Axel clings onto him the whole way back.
Third time might be the charm, but Altare’s pattern recognition might also need some work.
Correlation does not equal causation, he tells himself, because the alternative would make no logical sense.
There’s no real reason why Axel’s ears would be voice-activated, and even if they were, why would they be voice-activated by Altare, of all people?
It just doesn’t make sense.
“Axel, come on, we’re gonna be late.” He has his hand around Axel’s ankle, trying to drag his lazy gladiator out of bed. “Axel, come on, Axel, come on, Axel, come on—”
Click. Whir. Axel groans, but his ears twitch to life, warmth coloring the light around Axel’s head. Always warm. Always bright.
It doesn’t make sense at all.
Still cute though, Altare thinks, ignoring any and every urge to poke the shiny ears, wondering if they’re just as warm to the touch as they look.
“Axel, I know you’re awake,” Altare says crossly, instead, tugging at this dumbass gladiator’s ankle again in hopes that if he yanks hard enough, Axel will fall off the bed. “Quit messing around. If you make us both late, I’m gonna be so mad at you.”
“I’m so fucking tired, man,” Axel whines, twisting in the blankets. “Let me sleep.”
“I can’t. You accepted this quest, and I’m not letting TEMPUS have a no-show on the records just because you stayed up until 4AM eating gyoza again.”
“Mmm, gyoza.”
“Axel, get up.”
“Mmmm,” Axel says. His voice grows forlorn, and pitiful. “I’m actually a little hungry, now that you mention it… oh no, what am I gonna do… I can’t go on a mission on an empty stomach…”
“Fine.” Altare sighs, knowing exactly what game he’s playing. “Fine. Fine. Get up and I’ll buy you breakfast. Happy?”
“Fuck yes, baby! Gottem!” Axel’s eyes shoot open as he pumps his fist, victorious. He cackles ever so cheekily as he kicks himself out of his covers, mischief on his lips as naturally as he breathes. Still, his voice is genuine, sharp and honest and true, as he says, “You’re the best, Altare. I mean it.”
“You better mean it.” Altare replies huffily, even though the sentiment sparks and takes off like a bonfire in his chest. “Come on, then. There’s a plate of food out there with your name on it.”
Four, five, six times.
Altare tests his theory, learning the syllables Ax to El, until they roll off his tongue instinctively.
Axel doesn’t seem to notice the uptick in his name being called, but his ears don’t fail to perk at the attention, following the gladiator’s head when he moves, glowing golden hues from red to yellow. Altare thinks he might have seen it even dip into pink territory, once, but that may have just been a trick of light.
Seven, eight, nine.
Altare almost brings it up, catching his tongue on several occasions, but he can’t help but want to keep this information to himself. Just for a little longer.
He knows it can’t be intentional, because he’s seen Axel activate his ears intentionally. He’s seen him switch his gear on for battle, and he’s seen him flicking his ears on and off when he gets bored.
Ten.
“Axel, let’s go get ramen!”
There’s Axel, lighting up like a beacon, unabashed in his excitement, cybernetics aglow.
Eleven.
“Axel, cover me, we’re going in!”
The gladiator leaping forward, the rattle of his chain as he clambers after Altare, ears blazing bright in the dark of the cave.
Twelve.
“I hate you, Axel, I hate you, Axel, I hate you, Axel, I hate you—”
“Thirteen’s a pretty unlucky number to roll when you’re already broke as shit,” Axel drawls, dodging the punch Altare sends his way, seeming unaware of the familiar click of his cybernetics springing into action again. “I hope you lose all your money and die.”
“Thanks a lot, Axel,” Altare replies sarcastically, moving his piece across the board. “Just for that, I’m gonna win and take all your money.”
“I’m gonna take all your money. Just watch.”
“Not if I take all your money first.”
“You can’t take my money if I’m taking your money.”
“Yes I can. I’m faster than you. I’ll take your money first.”
“You’re dogshit, dude, I’ll take your money before you take my money.”
“Nuh uh.”
“I’ll do it, bitch. I’ll do it with pleasure.”
“Are you guys serious? Shut up over there!” Dez slaps the table in annoyance, effectively bringing an end to their argument. “Just play the fucking game, you knuckleheads. You pea brains. I’ll take everyone’s money, I don’t care about any of you. Ves already gave me his.”
“I’m not dealing with this shit anymore,” Vesper calls from the bar, huge beer mug in hand. “I’d rather not get punched tonight. You’re all hooligans, every single one of you. Nobody fuck with me. I’ll neuter you.”
“Well, aniki’s already got his doggy ears on, so I think he’s ready to fight. Or maybe he’s always trying to fight, ‘cause he’s a fighty-bitey boy!” Hakka remarks cheerfully, sending Altare a little knowing look. “Though it seems to this bird that he’s got his eye on someone in particular… but hey, you didn’t hear that from me.”
Altare scrunches his face at him. Hakka just grins toothily back.
“I’m gonna fuck some dudes,” Axel agrees, completely missing all of that.
“Up,” Shinri corrects tiredly. He takes the saddest sip of his drink that Altare has ever seen him take. “Fuck some dudes up. Axel.”
“Gonna start fuckin’ banging some dudes.” Axel says, ignoring all of that also.
“Bettel, give me your money.” Dez demands from the other side of the table, seeming to have had enough of all this nonsense, and maybe the only person who actually still wants to play the sorry excuse for a board game that most of the guild is huddled over. “Hurry up.”
“What?! No, fuck off! I don’t have to listen to you!”
“Bettel, give me your money.” Flayon demands, already yanking it out of his hands.
“Hey! Dude, what the fuck!”
“Don’t bully him,” Shinri shakes his head with a low chuckle, stealing Flayon’s money which he stole from Bettel, but instead of giving it back to Bettel, he hands it over to Dez. He ignores Flayon’s shriek in protest, and the subsequent fists of the pilot battering into his side as he shrieks even louder about being ignored. “Here you go, Magni.”
“See, Shin, you get me. You get who’s boss around here.”
“I thought that was me,” Altare grumbles under his breath, shuffling his game cash.
“Altare, let’s team up,” Axel says, knocking their shoulders together, leisurely plucking one of the notes out of Altare’s hand. “Let’s destroy Magni.”
“No.” Altare replies, quickly snatching it back. “You’re gonna steal all my money.”
“Nooo, Altare, come on, man! Truce! Truce! We can form an alliance!”
“Don’t do it,” Vesper calls from the bar again. “You know we don’t trust Axel and alliances.”
“You heard the man.” Altare knocks Axel’s shoulder in retaliation, and steals one of his notes, hiding his smile behind it when Axel starts complaining about how life is just a twisted game, god dammit, is there no justice in this world, wait a minute, ooh, Flayon, is that fucking fried calamari? Give it here. Calamari time. Hell yeah.
Altare pries another few notes from Axel’s hand while the gladiator is distracted by the arrival of food.
“No deal, doofus.” He snickers, giving his wad of currency a quick smooch. “Thanks for the cash, though!”
“Hakka.”
“Leader.”
“You noticed, didn’t you?” Altare corners Hakka on the stairwell after game night, the exorcist looking at him dumbly with half a baguette hanging out of his mouth. “Axel’s ears. They just pop out randomly—”
“—when you say his name, yes. Of course I did. It’s been happening for weeks, dude.” Hakka crunches his bread loudly, tearing at it with an astonishingly feral might for such a small guy. “It’s very hard not to notice, unless you’re Axel. Stupid little bitch. I love him, though.”
“Weeks?” Altare tilts his head in question. “Wait, how long— I only noticed it, like, last week.”
“Oh no, you’re both stupid.”
“Hey!”
“It’s okay to be stupid. I’m stupid, and I’ve only almost died, like, five hundred times.”
“Don’t say that like it’s a good thing.”
Hakka shrugs, and swings his partially eaten bread stick around like a baton. “Anyway, it’s cute, right? We’ve all made the fucking dog jokes, but he’s really like a puppy when it comes to you, leader. You should give him a treat for being such a good boy.”
Altare sends him a dirty look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Whatever you want it to mean.” Hakka whacks him with the bread, making him yelp. “But if you want my advice, then talk to him about it, dude.”
“Like, what, tell him it’s happening?”
“Tell him it’s happening.” Hakka nods resolutely, then immediately launches into a tirade that Altare’s brain has to scramble to keep up. “Think about if you were in his shoes. That’d be a pretty embarrassing thing not to know, right?”
“I mean—”
“Like walking around with your fly open all day and nobody points it out, and like, yeah, it’s nice ventilation but you’d hope at least someone would say something so you don’t look like some kind of loser that doesn’t know how to zip up his own pants after going to cry in the bathroom about how pants with zips are overrated anyway, because why are you zipping yourself up like a handbag, huh? Isn’t life hard enough, without zips? Do you know how painful it is when zips get stuck? It’s like being bitten in the dick by a crab. That sort of thing. You know?”
“That’s an oddly specific example.”
“Sorry, I share my trauma to bond,” Hakka pats him on the shoulder, blessing him sagely with the bread, crumbs scattering onto the floor. “Go get your man. Or at least tell him about the whole ear popping thing. Get that crab off his dick.”
Altare sighs, letting Hakka push him up the stairs as he shakes his head.
“Why do you have to put it like that…?”
So Altare tells Axel.
He doesn’t think much will come out of it. Maybe it really had been a string of coincidences, maybe someone playing one big elaborate prank on him. Maybe he had been imagining it. Maybe he’s been so deprived of dogs in his life that he’s starting to see dogs where there aren’t any. Maybe he just likes Axel that much, and is projecting. Who knows.
But what he doesn’t expect is for Axel to look so blatantly bewildered when the topic comes up, running a hand through his hair and gaping, sharp teeth on display.
“Eh?” Axel stares at Altare with big blue eyes. “My what does what? Huh?”
“Your ears, Axel.” Altare says, pointing upward. “They always come out when I say your name. What’s up with that?”
“Eh?” Axel repeats, sounding genuinely clueless.
“These things.” Altare reaches out, about to give the floating doggy-like ears a small tap, when Axel yanks away from him, face coloring a warm pink. He self-consciously bats at his ears, as if trying to push them down.
“What do you— I mean—” he stammers, sounding a little flustered. If Altare is honest, it’s a really nice look on him. “The fuck you talking about? They’re always coming out? Since when?”
“I don’t know.” Altare retracts his hand. “It’s just something that I noticed.”
“Well, stop noticing it!” Axel snaps.
“I can’t stop noticing it! I’ve already noticed!”
“Jesus fuck, there’s no actual way.” He presses his ears, hurriedly deactivating them. The high edge to his voice remains, merciless in dragging Axel’s nerves to the forefront of their curious situation. “Okay, now try. It’s not gonna happen. You’re fucking with me. It’s not gonna happen.”
“Okay, Axel.” Altare says. “Whatever you say, Axel.”
The ears pop up, as they always have, on cue.
“What the fuck— stop!” Axel flusters further, smacking his cybernetics, but they refuse to stay down. “Stop! What the fuck! Oi!”
“See? I’m not lying!”
“Ahhh, oh my goodness…” Axel palms his face in embarrassment, muttering a string of what sounds like whines of disbelief in Japanese. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier…?”
“Is it that big of a deal?” Altare tries to fight the smile on his face. “Axel, what does it mean?”
“Nope. No way. Nuh uh. Fuck that, yo. We’re not talking about it. You tricked me. This is your fault. You fucking demon shit, must’ve done something to my stupid ears—”
“If you won’t answer, maybe I can take a guess?”
“Nope. No, no, no, no. No way.”
“Why not?”
“No way. That’s all. Bye-bye.” Axel whirls on his heel, starting to stiffly stalk away. “And fuck you in particular.”
“Axel?” Altare says, tone beckoning. “Please?”
Axel stills in a mid-step. After a few moments of what seems like complete nothingness rattling inside his brain, his shoulders slump in defeat.
He doesn’t turn around, but his ears twitch again.
“Okay.” He breathes out. “Okay, fine. What?”
“Come here. Let’s talk.”
“You’re gonna make fun of me.”
“I’m not gonna make fun of you.” Altare keeps his footing light as he shortens the distance between them. “Dude, I think the ear thing is cute. I just wanna know if there’s, like, something that causes it? I mean, if your gear is malfunctioning, maybe I can take a look—”
“It’s not that.” Axel grunts. “It’s because— ugh. No. Fuck. Never mind.”
“You can trust me, Axel.”
“You are gonna make fun of me so bad, man.”
“I promise, swear on my heart, I will not make fun of you.”
“They come out when I get excited, okay?” Axel blurts, rapidly patting his ears back down. “Or feeling any big emotions that can make my blood go spicy. It’s like, adrenaline or some shit. I dunno. It’s stupid. It’s hella stupid. It’s ‘cause I operate on instincts. They’re– they’re linked to my body functions. But it helps with the hearing, ‘cause sometimes I can’t focus, and everything sounds kinda blurry, so the ears are there for that sorta thing.”
“You get excited when you hear your name?”
“I guess…” he shies away when Altare tries to touch his shoulder. “It’s only if you say it, though. I like the way you say it.”
“What? Axel?”
Click. “Yeah?”
“Axel, Axel, Axel, Axel—”
“Shut the fuck up!” Axel turns to shout at him. His face is bright red, mouth pulled into a scowl. “You said you wouldn’t make fun of me!”
“I’m not making fun of you!” Altare exclaims.
Axel just looks at him, eyes narrowed in accusation.
“Okay, maybe I am, a little bit.” He admits sheepishly, trying to suppress his smile again at the sight of Axel’s stubborn little cyber ears angling in confusion. “But that’s really cute. I mean it. Unexpected? But cute. At least to me, it is. I know you’re expecting a dog joke, so I’m not gonna bother. I’m just gonna tell you that it’s nothing to be ashamed of, and I’m flattered that you like my voice. It’s sweet of you. You’re sweet.”
“Huh? I wasn’t listening, sorry.”
“Not an excuse.” Altare says, unable to keep the teasing out of his tone. “Your ears are on. I know you heard me loud and clear.”
“Whatever, man. You think I’m cute?” Axel asks back, switching tactics.
“That’s what I said.”
“You need to get your sanity checked, dude.”
“Hey! You’re the only one who has, like, built-in emotes on your head!” Altare exclaims, not about to take this kind of backtalk when he’s trying to be nice. “That’s so cute. That’s super cute. You're only being stinky about it because I’m right.”
“Uhhh. Oh. Yeah.” Axel says, rubbing the back of his neck. “There’s something I think you should know, too, Altare.”
Altare tips his head curiously to the left. “What is it?”
“I’mma just say it like it is, but there’s this crystal stuff on your head sometimes, right? Like a bigass geode shit on you but it’s a little constipated.” A gloved hand comes forward and Axel’s knuckles brush gently against his brow, traveling across his temple, skirting over his bangs to where Altare’s holographic head pieces usually sit. “This stuff. Right here.”
“You absolutely do not have to describe them like that.” Altare deadpans. “But yes, what about them?”
“These. Uh. These little shiny motherfuckers… they come out when I say your name, too.”
Altare slowly blinks at him. Very slowly.
Axel averts his gaze, but his hand remains where it is, thumbing the shining shards of Altare’s light armor that most certainly were not there when Altare entered the room.
It takes him a moment to register what Axel is saying.
Then another moment for him to realize how many times he’s walked into his bedroom and wondered when and where his armor had materialized, but had shaken it off as his own simple carelessness; sometimes, he turns it on and off when he’s bored, too.
Moment number three — or just one really long moment of the hamster that operates the wheel in his brain running for its life — tells Altare that he’s really just been out here shining like a diamond every time Axel has spoken to him, and if that’s not biting like a crab on a dick, he doesn’t know what is.
“Oh my god.” Altare utters, gobsmacked. “We are both so stupid.”
They stare at each other for a second, before Altare cracks a shy smile, and Axel mirrors it.
It’s not long before they’re laughing at the absurdity of it all, and out of an impulsive need to get back at Axel for the weird way he described Altare’s beloved armor, Altare reaches up to pat the gladiator’s fiery cybernetic ears, finding them warm to the touch.
“Oi!” Axel jolts, not expecting it, but recovers quickly, the only remnant of his surprise being in the cybernetics themselves — the ever expressive battle aids glowing a deep red.
“Sorry, I couldn’t help it,” Altare’s shrug is helpless, and not sorry at all. He spies pink creeping into the front-most circuit of those pointy ears; not a trick of light, after all. “You touched mine.”
“It’s fine, dude. It’s aight. We aight.” Axel mumbles, then his words sort of just spill out all over the place. “I think it’s cute, too, by the way. When you sparkle. Dunno if it’s the same thing, but it’s very shoujo manga, yeah? Sometimes, I think you cannot be for real, because who the fuck sparkles when someone says their name? But ayo, it’s fucking adorable. I wanna kick you into a canyon. I wanna make you sparkle like that all the time. I wanna stop talking and kick myself into a canyon. But you’re still sparkling and it makes me, like, bubbly on the inside. I can’t hide it when I’m with you. I just can’t.”
“That sounds an awful lot like a love confession, Axel.”
“Maybe it is one.” Axel replies. He’s smirking, the smug bastard, like he knows he’s just flipped Altare like a turtle in his shell. “Unless you’re really that stupid.”
Altare smiles back, an automatic reaction, because the only other option would be to cup Axel’s cheeks and wipe that smirk off his face, but Altare can’t handle that kind of courage right now. His head is still reeling, still stuck thinking about why it is he shines when Axel calls him. He wonders if the answer truly is the most simple.
“I love you too, you idiot. You make me feel way too much. Maybe all I’m doing is trying to defend myself from how freaking much.” It falls casual from his lips, without thinking. “I just can’t say it in that many words. Nothing is going on in my head right now except, like, ocean waves and static. Sorry.”
“S’okay. I don’t want a cheesy-ass confession. I like you. That’s enough.”
“Well, I like you more. That’s my cheesy-ass confession.”
“Ain’t a competition, Altare.”
“Maybe it is one.” Altare echoes the gladiator’s response from before. “Unless you wanna prove me wrong.”
There’s a pause where they both just look at each other again.
Axel clears his throat.
“So is this the part where we make out, or…?”
“Yeah, I think it is.” Altare laughs, hand slipping from Axel’s hair, down his braid, and seizing him by the collar. “Get over here. Show me what you got.”
“Yes sir,” Axel grins, lit like a sunset, all but tumbling into Altare, leaning in.