Disclaimer: I no owny le Kingdom Hearts :3.

There's love in lust

There's no way. This isn't real, it can't be real. Zexion hung his head, his bangs fanning out to cover most of his face. He jerked his head up again, staring at the mirror in front of him. His hands gripped tighter around the edge of the sink when he saw his reflection.

He looked like a complete mess. Ever since he saw Demyx after the party, approximately four days ago, he couldn't sleep. His skin became pale and his eyes were puffy. That's not who I am. How could something like that even possibly happen? I don't understand…

He couldn't even stand to see himself any longer, so he stormed out of the bathroom and into his own room. He flopped onto his bed and glared up at the ceiling, wondering if his drink had been spiked with something that night. Other kids his age wouldn't give a shit about hooking up with someone at a party, but Zexion was different.

I don't want to be slumming around with random-ass people that I don't even know, especially a male. I'm so disgusted right now, I don't even want to be conscious.

His thoughts froze…he didn't even want to be conscious… Zexion hesitantly rolled off of the bed and left his room, walking back into the bathroom. His pale hands snaked their way through the medicine cabinet, delicately picking up a bottle of painkillers. He held them so cautiously, as if they were a sensitive bomb.

Fuck…if I'm not who I am, then what do I care if I…? He squeezed down the childproof lid and popped out some of the little white pills, eyeing them with confusion. Should he take them? They rolled around in his palm, practically begging to go down his throat.

He'd start out with four, no six. Six would be good enough for now, he couldn't take too many for his first time. He filled up a tiny paper cup with water from the sink. He swallowed the pills and the liquid, his eyes wavering in the reflection of the mirror again. He couldn't tell himself apart from all the other kids out there now.

Ashamed, he left the bathroom. He ran away from his problems, his fears, his own self staring back through the mirror. He just mentally ran. He no longer knew anything about himself, he didn't hold himself higher than all those kids that he hated in school. He'd let himself down, and now there was no turning back. And to think it all started with some blonde stranger.

As Zexion closed his eyes and continuously put himself down, the minutes passed. An entire half hour dragged by of the boy telling himself how worthless and disgusting he was until, finally, the pills kicked in. The life saving pills that sedated his twisted mind. They should call them Jesus pills, because they sure as hell were Zexion's new saviors.

---

As he slept that night, flashbacks of the party haunted Zexion's dreams. That blonde hair soaked with sweat, those marine eyes glazed over with lust. The chorus of laughter that had sounded so charming just a few hours ago…

"So you're, uh…Demyx, was it?" I breathed against his lips, which were hungrily pressing themselves against mine harder and harder. I smiled.

"Mhmm," he muttered back, proceeding to shove his tongue in my mouth. Each heavy breath that was panted against my face made me feel like I was taking shots all over again. The taste of alcohol forced its way into my mouth and my nose and seeped onto my skin. I closed my eyes and tried to ignore it, knowing that my breath must've been the same way.

I felt my shoulders bang against the floor as the stranger pushed me down and crawled on top of me. My grin widened as he began to move from my mouth down to my neck. All of this just felt so…funny. So funny that I just wanted to laugh and laugh and laugh…

His kisses tickled the soft skin of my neck, and somehow he managed to get my shirt off without my even realizing it. I let out another chuckle as the kid continued to work his way down my body. And what was his name again? How did this all start off? Oh, right, the glass. I'd accepted the glass. Why'd I wind up doing that? I just couldn't figure out a thing. My brain felt like it was laughing as hard as I was. Everything was just so, so funny.

---

Zexion woke up the next day with light rings underneath his eyes. This was the fifth night in a row that he had barely gotten any sleep. He thought back to the nightmares that kept flooding through his slumber. Oh how different that party really was. Sure, when he was drunk, he'd though that everything was amazing. But now…

I remember all of it, Zexion growled inside his head as he ran a hand through his tangled hair. I remember how he shoved me down, how he forced himself on me. I can still feel him bruising the skin on my neck, still feel his hot breath sticking to me.

A tear slid down his cheek. And I remember how I wanted it all.

He tore out of his bed and made his way to the shower. He just felt completely and utterly disgusting. And the worst part was knowing that no matter how hard he scrubbed, he'd always feel dirty.

---

And a funny thing was that Zexion actually wound up running into Demyx the next day. And seeing as how meeting someone for the first time at a party, getting drunk, and hooking up with them wasn't exactly a proper introduction, Zexion continued walking. He kept his head level, cast his eyes straight ahead and held his breath. And then, he wished for his death.

"Uh…Zexion?"

The boy froze, feeling the blood course through his veins at a rate of bursting. He slowly rotated his head just enough to see an all-too familiar blonde coming his way.

"Hey…I know this is pretty awkward, but I just, um, wanted to apologize for the other night. I guess we really didn't know what we were doing."

"Yeah," Zexion mumbled quickly with a nod. He stood there silently for a moment, completely perplexed by the small fact that his leg muscles weren't working. Or his breathing reflex.

"You aren't mad at me, are you?"

Zexion shivered as he processed the question. Demyx looked sincerely upset, his eyes soft and kind. Am I mad at you? You've completely ruined me. I'm disgusting. I made out with some random guy at a party. I actually drank alcohol. I'm not even myself anymore. I hate you.

"…No, I'm not angry."

Demyx brightened up instantly. "Oh, that's good," he sighed out, acting as if a huge weight had just been lifted from his shoulders. "Let's just pretend it never happened, okay? I'm not usually like that. If you get to know me, I think we might actually become friends!"

I would never consider becoming anything of yours besides an enemy. "Yes, let's put it all behind us." Zexion swallowed, wishing that he would just fall to the floor in a heart attack and die right then and there.

"Great," Demyx smiled, patting the other boy on the back. Every single muscle in Zexion's torso tightened beneath the blonde's hand. The hand that had been crawling all over his body just a few nights ago.

"Well, I've got to get going, but I'll talk to you later. I'll text you." Demyx grinned and exited the store, leaving behind a very distraught Zexion.

"He…has my number?"

---

Ten painkillers passed through his lips so innocently.

---

Zexion nodded his head slowly and rhythmically to the song that pulsed through his headphones. He calmly worked on the summer report that would be due when his senior year in high school started up in a few months.

He listened to the singer's melodious voice cooing, "Now take this sadness and close your eyes, Love."

His eyes widened, and a pencil hit the floor.

---

"Just close your eyes," the shadowy figure looming above purred softly, his words followed by a few quiet pants.

I did as I was instructed and let the pleasure carry me away. I moved and squirmed beneath the other body, loving every second of this. I didn't remember being alive ever feeling so good before this very moment. I reached out and let my hands wander around the form before me. I heard my breathing becoming more labored. It was odd. I couldn't even feel the needy gasps and quiet moans emerging from my mouth, but somehow they fluttered through the air. I couldn't remember when I'd decided to grab the hair in front of me and entangle my fingers, but I felt the softness against my skin somehow.

"Is this your first time?" the blonde asked, his voice just a little raspy.

All I could do in reply was laugh. Every little touch that Demyx made felt spectacular. I thought that I was going to die whenever the other boy's hands wisped across me. Beneath his soft fingertips, every nerve ending in my body was screaming.

I don't think Demyx really cared that he wasn't getting any conversation out of me anymore. He just continued his own business, which, at the moment, was trying to undo the button on my jeans.

---

Fourteen pills that night. Because God knows that Zexion sure the fuck needed it.

---

He awoke to a text message the next morning from a number that he'd never seen before. Demyx already ruined enough of his life, did he really need to continue to torment Zexion relentlessly on a daily basis?

The blonde wanted to meet up somewhere to try to start things over. Ha. He really thought that Zexion would go with that? No, out of the question. Never. No, no, no.

He snapped his phone shut and threw it at his bed. Why did this kind of thing always have to happen to him? Shaking his head, he decided to just try and ignore it. He'd almost gotten the hang of the whole apathy thing lately. He found that it was the only way to keep himself sane in the daytime, and prepare himself for when Demyx's face haunted him at night.

Zexion picked up a random book that was lying on his desk. He knew this book more than he knew himself (which, lately, wasn't saying a lot). In fact, he could probably recite every word. Still, he voted on reading it just so his mind wouldn't be able to run off and think certain thoughts that Zexion was desperately trying to forget.

Maybe if I hit my head hard enough, I'll strike amnesia, he thought bitterly as he struggled to pay attention to the novel before him. That would be like asking for a miracle right about now. To just…forget. To have every single little memory evaporate from my mind.

He felt his muscles twitch as he listened to the silence of his room. To be honest, Zexion could barely stand anything at all anymore. He hated when loud noises assaulted his ears, he hated when quietness overwhelmed him. He didn't like the sunlight filtering into his room, but he was terrified of being engulfed in darkness. No matter what he did, he could never win.

And that included reading as a sort of stress therapy. He snapped the book shut and winced at the sound, struggling to figure out if it made him annoyed or relieved to break the silence. He opted that he wouldn't even bother to think about it, because if there was one thing that he really hated, it was feeling confused.

Still, he managed to stick to one orderly habit and placed the book in its rightful spot, just for organization's sake. If his thoughts and feelings couldn't be organized anymore, atleast his belongings could be.

Zexion made his way over to the bedroom door. He paused for just a moment, taking the time to peek over his shoulder at the cell phone lying on his mattress. He felt empty without it being in his pocket. But currently, he didn't care who was trying to get in touch with him. He didn't even want to look at the stupid thing anymore.

The door slammed shut, and Zexion winced at the sound of it.

---

Going outside usually had a funny way of clearing Zexion's mind. He took his time exiting the house and placed each foot on the pavement cautiously, his ears alert for any sounds that his presence might make. He proceeded to silently make his way to the back yard and stretched out on the warm grass, feeling the shackles of depression fall from his hands and feet as the sunlight radiated him with sheer contentment.

A slight breeze washed over Zexion's body, making sure that his temperature remained just right. He inhaled deeply, noticing the sweet smell of honeysuckles somewhere nearby. Wow. This stress therapy treatment was better than pot. Well, atleast he guessed it was. Nature would become his own little drug now (though he wasn't going to give up pill popping anytime soon either).

He rolled onto his side and set his eyes on a small clover patch that was dancing in the wind. He absently plucked a three-leaf clover and slowly twirled it in his frail fingers.

It was funny, the way his mind worked. As he lay there observing the small clover, he began to wonder why life couldn't resemble a clover patch. Four-leaf clovers, they were different. Sometimes he wished that being different was considered important. Valuable. Sought after. Admired. Just like a four-leaf clover standing alone in the middle of a three-leaf clover patch.

But life wasn't like that at all. If you were different, Zexion had concluded, then you were unwanted. An undesirable. Upset that he had found a way to become so somber while thinking about a mere clover, he threw it back into the patch and rolled over onto his other side.

His wandering, curious eyes spotted a dandelion. He couldn't help it. He plucked that up too and held it in front of his listless orbs. A weed. A nuisance. Who decided that dandelions were weeds anyways? What were the qualifications of being deemed a flower instead of a weed?

He threw that down too and sat up, shaking his head. Zexion was the one and only person who could find a flower depressing. All these clovers and weeds…well, who needed them. Zexion wasn't different. He looked like every other boy out there, and probably did whatever they did as well. Normality. Yes, he was the absolute definition of normality. And he repeated this in the back of his mind until he almost believed it were true.

---

Within a week, Demyx had texted Zexion nearly every single day and night. And Zexion had successfully managed to ignore him. It barely even phased him anymore. Open the phone and close it directly afterwards. That was all it took to keep the blonde at bay. Open. Close. Ignore. Piece of cake.

He had been working nonstop on his summer report lately. What with his parents gone visiting relatives and his unpleasant memories threatening to engulf his sanity, there really wasn't much else for Zexion to do. Though, he wasn't one of the people who believed that work could drown out thoughts. He could never forget something that easily. Besides, he was always pretty good at multi-tasking.

So as he sat there writing about the life of Ernest Hemingway, an author that he was already completely familiar with, spurts of his memory began leaking through the mental wall that he'd put up. He ignored it as much as he could. He blotted out the images of Demyx, grew mute to the words whispered that night, and buried the urges and lusts that he'd felt.

Or, atleast he tried. But as he collected more information from his notes, one word set everything off. One tiny, stupid word that would've been unimportant to any other person in the world. 'Critics were afraid that the youth of society would not understand Hemingway's work.' He barely even saw the other words in the sentence.

Afraid.

---

"Are you afraid?"

Ha. Am I afraid? Why would this kid even ask me that? What's there to be scared of?

I shook my head rapidly as his lips wrapped around mine. I didn't even know what to focus on. The desperate, needy kisses that were battering my lips, the daunting hands that were gliding across my body, or the jeans that had just been slid right off of me.

Golden hair danced against my nose as he bent his head closer to me, his gleaming smile set just a bit crookedly upon his face. His eyes were now illuminated rather than hazy like before.

"Well alright then. If you insist."

His breath hit my senses with a new swirl of alcohol. I felt like I was going to be sick. Still, everything that Demyx was doing to me made me smile and laugh. It felt spectacular to have someone else on top of me like that. I'd really been alone for too long, and I needed this.

I lifted myself off of the floor and tumbled, flipping Demyx underneath me. His eyes sparked with a newfound lust. I guess spunkiness was a turn-on for him. I laughed again as his fingers danced with the elastic waste band of my boxers.

---

And 16 pills weren't really that bad a number.

---

Zexion woke up late the next morning, still fairly groggy from the dosage he'd taken the previous night. He rubbed his eyes roughly and stood from his bed, stumbling forward a bit. His head felt scattered and broken like a beautiful cathedral window that had been greeted by a rock. The side effects of the painkillers were never too nice, but they kept him in a deep and timeless slumber. No nightmares.

He stumbled forward again and even fell to his knees. His eyes darkened for a moment, his peripheral vision completely shrouded in blackness. His head was constricted with a dizzy feeling that made Zexion think he might fall back asleep. But after a bit, he managed to collect himself and stand normally.

He left his room and quietly shut the door, still messed up enough to decide that he would forget about the events that occurred this morning. He'd just stood up too quickly and gotten lightheaded. That was it.

---

The rest of the day went by at an average pace. No more dizzy spells. Zexion followed the sidewalk slowly, his eyes fixed to the moving clouds up above. He had nothing better to do, so he figured that he might as well go to the library to do a bit of research for his school paper. And hey, he had no complaints about having to go to the library. He was even on a first-name basis with all of the librarians there.

He arrived at the familiar building and pushed open the heavy metal doors. Zexion froze in his tracks. He saw a blonde male standing at the counter, laughing with one of the young librarians.

No. It can't be him. The idiot probably can't even read. It's okay, just maneuver past him and you'll see that its not--

"Zexion!"

The shorter boy froze. It was the first time in his life that he hated the sound of his own name. It reminded him of something…Something that twisted his heart so tightly that he thought he might die.

---

"Zexion!" Demyx shouted as he wriggled beneath my body.

Wow, I would've never guessed he was a screamer. My hunch was that he usually topped whenever he was with somebody. I smiled. My name floating atop his gorgeous voice, it invoked something inside me that I'd never felt before. I wanted him to say it again. I wanted him to scream my name bloody-murder into the heavens.

---

"Zexion?"

The boy was having trouble breathing. He took one last choppy inhale before he calmed himself and glared at the blonde. He could just feel all of the color draining out of his face.

"Hey, you never answered any of my texts. I was beginning to wonder if something had happened to you."

Zexion shook his head and turned around, making for the library's exit. But he heard the clumsy blonde noisily jogging beside him, breathing heavily. Just like that night. That one night so many weeks ago that still tormented Zexion and made him shiver.

"What's up? How've you been?"

"Good," Zexion responded, taken aback when he heard that his voice was more like a squeak.

Demyx cocked his head a little, eyebrow raised. "Umm..that's good. Where ya headed?"

"Nowhere," he rushed out.

The blonde frowned. "Oh. Well if you're not doing anything, do you want to maybe hang out?"

No answer.

"Come on," Demyx pleaded, stepping in front of the other boy. "Don't hold that one tiny night against me. You said we could start over, right? So let's do it."

Still no reply.

---

"Let's do it," Demyx laughed, shimmying my boxers lower and lower.

I stopped smiling for a moment, suddenly feeling self conscious. I grabbed his hands and slid them further up my body. "Uh…I'm not so sure."

His brow furrowed as he registered my answer. I guess no one had ever said no to him before. I lowered my head and seized his lips, hoping to distract him. But I felt his hands draw back to my boxers, and I grabbed them and pushed them away again. He gave me a look.

---

"Hello, earth to Zexion?"

Zexion blinked and jumped just a hair. He stared at the blonde for a moment, grimacing at all of the flashbacks that kept flooding their way into his mind. Maybe if he spent a little time with Demyx, it would be enough to satisfy him and get him to stay away.

"Fine. I was just on my way to do some research. You can stay and talk with me if you'd like. Your choice."

Demyx nodded his head eagerly and followed the slate-haired boy through the maze of bookshelves. The first several minutes passed by in an awkward silence. Once Zexion had finally picked out a book, he sat down and stared at the text on the yellow pages. Demyx's presence was much too distracting; none of the words were even registering.

The only thing that he could think about was how the boy sitting next to him had touched him that night. How he'd spoken those words that invoked shivers from somewhere deep inside Zexion, and how right now, he was sitting there tapping his fingers on the desk nonchalantly like none of it had ever even occurred.

And it wasn't just annoying. It wasn't merely irritating for Zexion to involuntarily focus in on the blonde out of the corner of his eye, or to have to listen to the uneven drumming on the table. No, it was pure torture to have to see that face, or even listen to any sound that Demyx could emit. And as a result, every muscle in Zexion's body twisted and tightened into knots just at the sheer close distance that the two shared. His stomach clenched and his heart pounded, his breathing became shallow and his head began to throb.

"So you're doing a report for school?" Demyx finally asked after about ten minutes of silence. The other boy nodded once, his eyes never leaving the pages. "What's it on?"

"The biography of Ernest Hemingway," Zexion answered quickly, wishing that the library would catch on fire and burn him alive.

The blonde sat quietly for a moment, and Zexion could feel himself being watched. He couldn't stand it. He finally snapped. "You know, this report is very important. You're a bigger distraction to me than I thought you would be, and I need to get this done. I'm working very hard."

"Um…Zexion?"

"What?"

"…You haven't even turned the page in fifteen minutes."

---

After the torturous hour or so that Zexion endured with Demyx, he needed something to ease his mind. And, luckily or unluckily enough for him, Zexion had become so addicted to pain pills that he kept a stash in his pocket, reserved especially for horrid occasions such as this.

He walked with quick, lengthy strides to the nearest convenient store on the way home from the library. He lived close enough to it that he could make it safely back inside his house before the pills began to kick in. Even so, he couldn't wait a second longer than he had to. He absolutely required the calmness that came with the feeling of capsules sliding down his throat; he had to have the relief. And he needed it now.

Zexion rushed into the little store and purchased only a bottle of coke. He weaved through the aisles until he reached the public restrooms, taking care to push the door open with his sleeved elbow and maneuver over sticky puddles on the floor to reach the sinks.

His eyes only glanced at the mirror for a quarter of a second. He refused to look into glass anymore. He pulled out the baggie filled with pills and brought shaking hands to twist off the soda top, his emotions rising higher and his anxiety intensifying.

"Shit!" he half-yelped when he accidentally knocked his drink over into the nearby sink. He snatched it up quickly and began digging through the bag before he became too stressed to hold on to the pills, too.

"Well, well…" a raspy voice echoed throughout the enclosed space of the small bathroom. Zexion succeeded in fumbling with the pills as well and flung around to face the person emerging from a stall, baggie clutched in his fist.

Xigbar. The chronic stoner from school. He made his way over to Zexion with the most cynical grin hung sloppily on his face. His fingers pried the bag from the other boy's frail hand.

"Huh," Xigbar muttered with disinterest as he examined the medicine. "These are only pain pills, and common ones at that. No good." He flicked a few onto the dirty tiled floor.

"H-hey!" Zexion squeaked, snatching his pills back. He swallowed, feeling all of the color leak from his face. In school, he'd never said a word to Xigbar. The kid was one of the people that Zexion looked down upon. A dirty, sorry excuse of a person whose life was so miserable that he had to rely on drugs to keep him sane. Well…to keep him half sane, to say the most.

Xigbar's smirk only widened at this. "Hey man, chill out. You're dealing with good ol' Xigbar here. The Xigster! Xiggy! C'mooon."

"You don't know anything," Zexion growled, regaining some of his motor skills and normal thinking functions. "I just have a headache."

"Yo," the other protested, raising his hands in surrender. "I'm just trying to help you out. You don't reeeally like those dainty little pain pills, do you? What's the best they can do, knock you out after, what, an hour?"

Zexion remained speechless, raising an eyebrow at Xigbar.

"'Xactly. Now, what I just so happen to have in my pocket will do so much more. Ever heard of xanax?" He pulled out several little blue pills and laid them on the edge of the sink. "I'll tell you what. I just had seven of these puppies not too long ago, so I'm pretty fucked up myself. So, with that in play, I'm willing to let you sample these for the low low price of nada! If you like em, you know who can supply ya."

Before Zexion could either object or agree, Xigbar began crushing the xanax into a fine powder. The anxious boy slid his pain pills back in his pocket and impulsively spat out, "What're you doing?"

"Huh? Oh," Xigbar laughed, his chuckle sounding as sharp as glass. "If you snort em, they fuck you up quicker. Here, take a line."

"N-no! I can't…"

"Oh come on," he groaned, bending down closely to the sink and sniffing up some of the powder. The entire line was gone, not a trace of dust to be found. Xigbar inhaled deeply and wiped his nose with his sleeve. "See, now that's eight I've had. The rest are yours, three pills crushed. I just showed you how to do it. You're not gonna want to turn this offer down, kid. I guarantee you it's the only time you'll get xanax for free."

Xigbar walked past Zexion and made his way through the door, knowing that the other boy would be more likely to try it if he were alone. Zexion stood there for a moment, eying the blue powder with wonder. Xanax…

He hunched himself over the sink and timidly touched his nose to the fine dust. He'd always wondered how people had the tolerance to snort cocaine, Zexion had assumed that it would taste nasty and burn… What made pills any different?

Still, he didn't straighten up. He wanted to try it, and he had to do it before anyone decided to walk into the bathroom. Quickly, he breathed in the first line to get it done and over with. He raised his head, looking into the mirror that he'd been trying to avoid this whole time. Seeing the blue rim around his nostril almost made him want to laugh and cry at the same time.

Zexion bent over the sink and snorted another line, and then another…And before he knew it, the sink was completely clean. To his surprise, snorting the powder actually tickled.

With a slight shake of his head, he walked over to the exit and threw his baggie of low milligram, over the counter pain pills into the trash can as he went.

---

And that was how the fish took the bait. Ever since that day, Xigbar was Zexion's pill dealer.

Peach xanax, blue footballs, yellow brick roads. Xanny bars galore.

Perciset, oxycodone, oxyconton, hydrocodone. Ambien, klonopin.

Ecstasy, speed, methadone.

Pills, pills, pills. They were like skittles, beautiful little skittles that Zexion could chew all day and not have to worry about any of his problems. He had to admit it. He was a pill head. A bad pill head.

But none of that mattered to him anymore. Especially now, as he stumbled over top of the clutter in his room and fell onto his bed, head spinning. He could feel the smile trying to be born upon his face, but his muscles just couldn't get the motion right. His eyes drew inward towards his nose and his vision blurred, so Zexion just closed them and let the imaginary tornado around him whirl his thoughts all over the place.

And the best thing about the imaginary tornado was that it never threw his thoughts towards Demyx. No, Demyx hid in a little underground shelter, completely clear of the twister's path. So as Zexion lay there, high as gas and drooling ever so slightly, his mind scattered so generously and allowed him another sleep of random thoughts. Thoughts that were totally free of the blonde nuisance, of course. Or, atleast they started off that way…

---

"What do you mean you aren't sure?"

Demyx cocked an eyebrow and looked me up and down. Feeling my self esteem plummet, I leaned away from him until I was almost off of his body completely.

"You want me, don't you?" The blonde leaned forward, his face still vacant of the alluring grin that had occupied it just a few moments ago. He touched his forehead to mine, his perfect lips brushing ever so slightly against my own.

My mouth quivered softly as I tried to answer. "Y-yes," I breathed, closing my eyes. I felt his hands running from my neck to my shoulders, giving me chills.

"Then trust me. Just let me do this."

Demyx pushed me backwards gently, cautiously. I allowed him to crawl on top of me again, my hands growing minds of their own and sliding up to rest upon his back. His kisses lingered this time; I could tell that he was trying to take this slowly. But all I could really focus on was my own body and how uncomfortable I was.

He paused for a minute when he felt that I was still tense. "Come on," he groaned, clearly becoming impatient. "I thought this is what you were going after? I thought you wanted me?" His voice grew softer with the last sentence, and he gave me a pout-like stare.

"It… I…This is new to me," I mumbled quickly, though my words were almost inaudible. The boy didn't give me a reply, he just captured my lips again. Eventually, going so slow made him a bit too antsy, and he began picking up his speed once more.

"Umm…hold on a sec," I uttered in between make-out sessions. But he refused to let me object, and made sure that his tongue cleared away any words trying to occupy my mouth.

His hands kept drawing toward my waistline, and I proceeded to push them away. Again, and again, and again. But he was, unfortunately, stronger than me. So they stayed firmly planted around my pelvic region.

All of the awkwardness of the situation completely numbed what the alcohol had previously done to me, and I wasn't even feeling a buzz anymore. Finally, I just couldn't take it.

---

"Well, what do you know, exactly?"

Zexion squirmed slightly as he began to get a grip on consciousness again. His pupils started to notice a bright light piercing straight through his eyelids.

"The blood work that we took confirmed that narcotics were involved. We found various evidence of pills in the bloodstream."

Pills.

At that word, Zexion's eyes snapped right open and darted around the room. It took a moment for his sight to adjust, but he finally found himself to be looking at the back of some strange man. Some strange man who was dressed in a familiar white coat, standing in a familiar white room with familiar bright lights.

Oh my God, Zexion thought painfully. I'm in a hospital.

"Wow…I didn't know that he had problems with…pills…"

That voice.

Zexion craned his neck to focus his attention on the person standing in front of the doctor. And the face that he saw there nearly made him want to pass out and never, ever wake up again.

Demyx caught the other boy's eye and immediately stopped talking. The doctor turned around and, seeing that Zexion was awake, made his way towards the door. "You've got a lot of explaining to do, young man. I'll be right back with some paperwork that I'll need you to fill out."

Zexion threw his arm across his eyes and let out an aggravated sigh. "Demyx, what happened and why are you here?" He squeezed his hand into a fist and felt a sharp pain when his muscles contracted around an IV that had been jammed into his arm.

"Well…" the blonde started shyly, the first time that Zexion had ever experienced a quiet side of him. "I guess…um…Xigbar knew that something was wrong. He's the only one who knew what you were doing every day, so when you wouldn't answer his calls, he went over to check on you."

"Yes, I overdosed," he stated blandly. "So how did you get involved in any of this?"

"Apparently I live a few houses down from you. I was walking over to my friend Axel's house-"

Zexion cringed at the name. God, was that kid ever annoying.

"And I saw you getting loaded into the ambulance. I was worried, of course, so I came to see you."

The other boy soaked all of the news in, thinking of how embarrassing it was that an ambulance had been called to his house. What would all of the neighbors think?

"I had to lie," Demyx continued, turning around to face the wall. "I told them that I was your brother. Otherwise, they wouldn't let me in to see you, or even tell me what was wrong. And because I told them I was your brother, they aren't going to call your parents. I said that they were out of town and they'd be back in a day or two."

Zexion almost smiled with relief. Atleast this would buy him a few days before the hospital notified his parents about this little incident. He would have to remember to check the mail for the lovely bills that would be coming his way.

"…Thanks."

"Yeah," the blonde responded, still sounding shaken up.

The doctor returned then with a stack of papers for Zexion to fill out. And after that was finished, he had to suffer through numerous scoldings, visits from a psychologist, and two days in the hospital before he was permitted to leave.

---

"I don't see why this is absolutely necessary," Zexion seethed as he sat in the passenger seat of a car, arms crossed so tightly that it was a wonder they didn't snap.

"Hey, I lied for you," Demyx protested, maneuvering the little car into his driveway. "So you owe me. And until I'm sure that you won't go home and swallow every pill in your house, I'm not leaving you alone."

The slate-haired boy exited the vehicle and slammed the door roughly. With a small messenger bag slung over his shoulder, he hastily made his way up to the porch and waited for the blonde to unlock the door.

"The only person I live with is my mom, and she's in Texas on a business trip," he chipped in, trying to make the black cloud of hatred that hung over Zexion's head a little smaller.

"Mm," was the only answer that the other boy would mutter. He slid off his shoes, following by example, and walked across the open, pearl-colored carpet. He had to admit, Demyx had a very nice house. No, nice wouldn't even describe it properly. It was simply exquisite. Whatever the blonde's mother did for a living, it was obvious that she was very successful.

Vases and modern art decorated the huge living room, and three sofas sat in half a square around the middle, in matching color schemes. A plasma screen TV hung on the wall to the north of the couches above a marble fireplace.

"You have a gorgeous home," Zexion complimented without meaning to. He stood in awe as he examined each little detail of the room.

"Thanks," Demyx laughed. "Mom enjoys…the finer things in life, I guess you could say. I don't really care for it, though. I think money spoils people."

Zexion nodded in agreement, completely surprised that Demyx could actually form a casual conversation instead of merely endless babble. Still, it felt awkward to be in the same room as the other male. The very same boy who invaded his comfort zone all that time ago, the one who unknowingly sparked his drug abuse.

Suddenly washed over with newfound anger, Zexion frowned and began to exit the living room. "So where will I be staying?" he asked curtly, shifting the weight of his bag on his shoulder. He just wanted to get away from Demyx as soon as he could.

"Oh, right. You'll be in the guest room. It's the second door upstairs on the left. My room's across the hall from yours if you need anything…"

But Zexion had already disappeared up the staircase.

---

Three days passed before Zexion would even exit the room for more than a trip to the bathroom. But when he finally started showing his face around the house, Demyx bombarded him with small talk every chance he got.

"So you're an only child?"

"Yes," Zexion answered listlessly, poking some macaroni around his bowl with a fork.

"Yeah, me too." He didn't seem phased at all by the other's lack of interest. "I used to hate it as a kid. I still kind of do, really. You're always on your own, you know?"

"Mhm." He watched as Demyx shoveled food into his mouth. It was amazing that the kid didn't choke. "You really shouldn't eat that fast. You'll get a stomach ache."

The blonde stopped long enough to stare wide-eyed at Zexion. "You think I eat too fast?" He erupted with laughter, a chorus of chimes and bells.

The sound caught the other boy off guard, making his entire body tingle. He started to remember why he found Demyx so charming at the party. He stomped down the feelings of attraction that began stampeding back to him, and reminded himself that it was Demyx's fault that he had been hospitalized.

"You just eat like a bird!" The blonde poked Zexion in the ribs, making him jump ever so slightly. "Just look at how scrawny you are. Has anyone been feeding you? I mean geez! Your bowl's still half full!"

"I…just suddenly lost my appetite," he mumbled as he stood up and made a hasty retreat into the kitchen. But it was no good. The other boy stood up as well and followed him.

"What? Are you alright? You aren't sick or anything, are you?" He turned Zexion around and lightly touched a hand to his cheek. "You look a little pale, but you feel fine."

Zexion's eyes widened when Demyx's hand touched his face. Memories of the blonde caressing him all over that night came rushing back. The slate-haired boy started to blush beneath Demyx's touch, damning all of the dormant feelings that he'd been suppressing for so long.

"Wait, you do feel a bit warm. Do you wanna go lie down?"

"Yes, that's probably a good idea," Zexion stammered, quickly stepping away and leaving the kitchen. He felt the rage building up inside him, nearly causing tears to spill. Why did he still have to be attracted to Demyx? Why couldn't he just learn his lesson and feel nothing towards the boy? The stupid boy who pressured him so much at the party, the boy who made Zexion want to pop pills. That stupid, stupid boy…

Completely furious, Zexion barreled to his room and bound himself to his bed. And it made him even more pissed off that he didn't have his beautiful pills to help him fall asleep. He was helpless, utterly damned and forced to be conscious. So he laid there sulking for the rest of the day, wondering what God had against him.

---

It took an entire week until Zexion's pure hatred for Demyx began to recede. That night, that mistake, had sparked feelings for the blonde. That much was obvious, and it couldn't be helped. He still tried to stamp out the flames of attraction that burned strongly in his heart, but, sadly, to little avail.

But one night, something happened that nearly made Zexion's heart crack in two.

As both the boys sat on the couch, quietly watching a movie, Demyx began scooting closer to Zexion until they were touching. Zexion blinked stupidly at the blonde, feeling his breath catch in his throat. He was like a deer in headlights; he couldn't move, couldn't save himself.

Demyx lifted his hand to gingerly cradle the side of Zexion's face. He leaned in closer, very slowly, until their lips met. Zexion didn't know how to feel. His stomach clenched and his heart stopped. He knew that he wanted this, but he also felt…utterly terrified.

He broke away from the other boy and glared, eyes wavering. "Just stop it, okay? You remember the last time this happened. Do you want me thrown back in the hospital?"

Demyx winced at the icy words. "I'm sorry, I wanted to…I just…You need to know that it doesn't have to be that way. This time can be different."

"No," Zexion hissed, standing up from the couch. "There is no 'this time.' I can't be near you, Demyx. You scare me, okay? You scare me."

He whipped around and stormed up the stairs, making a mad dash for his room. But the blonde was quick to follow, sticking his foot in the door before Zexion could slam it shut.

"Listen, I said I'm sorry. I know that the party was hard for you, I know that what I did was wrong. You weren't ready, and I shouldn't have pushed you. But it's not like that now, okay? We aren't drunk…and what we felt that night wasn't just created by the alcohol."

"Yes it was," Zexion disagreed, though he knew he was lying. "You hurt me so badly that I didn't even want to be awake. I wanted to die."

The blonde cringed again, taking each word to heart. "Please," he nearly whispered, stepping hesitantly towards Zexion. "Let me prove to you that it can be different. Please…"

He closed the distance between them and carefully stroked Zexion's face, waiting for any response that would cue him to stop. But the slate-haired boy stood frozen to the spot, feeling his body quiver beneath the boy's soft touch. The touch that he'd desired so badly before, and still craved now.

Zexion was still a bit frightened, but he let the blonde continue. Demyx smiled softly as he brushed Zexion's hair away from his teal eyes. "I didn't choose you that night just because I was drunk or horny. I didn't make my selection based on randomness. And if that night didn't spark my feelings for you, do you think I would've bothered trying to befriend you afterwards? Do you think it would've torn me up so badly to see you being put on a stretcher?" His voice cracked at the end of his sentence.

Zexion remained silent, trying to go over everything in his mind. But his brain was scattered, this time due to affection rather than drugs. Instead of words, he chose action. He leaned forward cautiously and tilted his head up, leaving a small peck on Demyx's lips.

The blonde smiled, impressed with the progress being made. "We can start over," he vowed, sitting the other boy on the bed and taking a seat next to him.

Zexion nodded in agreement, allowing his hands to touch the boy across from him. Slowly, his fear and hesitation began to melt away. He greeted Demyx's lips again, feeling something other than lust that he couldn't quite pinpoint. As their kisses evolved into a slow make-out session, Zexion leaned back until he was lying down. For once, he felt completely comfortable.

"Let's do this the right way," the blonde smiled affectionately.

Their lips met in the first actual passionate kiss that they'd ever experienced together. With Zexion's permission, Demyx began slowly unbuttoning the other boy's shirt, his eyes bright and alive instead of hazy with lust. And as they moved underneath the sheets, for the first time in either of their lives, they were ready to make love, not sex.

---End.