Incongruous Propositions
By DXM JUNKIE
A/N: This story is going to be chapter uno of a four-part Demyx loving Zexion / Axel loving Roxas escapade. All for the wonderful Kunoichi21. Because she is my legally-lawful Facebook wife (This wonderful lady is the Demyx in my life). And because I can. This story will contain all forms of sexual discourse and would probably make a lot of conservative christians uncomfortable. Since, you know, it's all rather gay and hush hush. The initial chapter is still tame, so for the time being this will be rated T.
Chapter One: You rather annoy me.
The constant incessant humming.
Zexion could not stand it very much longer. He was inevitably going to snap and it wouldn't be pretty. It would actually be rude as hell. Glaring silently down at his converse sneakers the slate-haired student grit his teeth in irritation.
Being stuck in a minuscule cubical prison late on a Saturday evening was the first problem. He'd been working overtime the night before at the library and was currently functioning on three and a half hours of sleep. The stress was taking its toll on him. Final exams were four days away and he'd thought it was a super-duper idea to double-up on coursework this semester. Wrong.
The Mohawk-sporting, psycho-talkative freak of a lab partner who couldn't shut up if his life depended on it was his second problem. He'd never been partial to idle chit-chat and this idiot excelled on that subject. During multiple occasions Zexion silently wondered what kind of caffeinated drugs the brat ingested to be so damn energetic all the time. He acted like he was hopped up on speed.
But, as he dug his fingernails into the Styrofoam cup of coffee on the table, his primary problem ultimately came down to one fact. This guy was actually attractive and that was disgustingly distracting.
Attractive in one of those sickeningly good-looking ascetically pleasing ways. Clear aqua eyes, smooth tan skin, slender figure and a voice that could read books for those goddamn audio tapes. Oh and don't forget friendly, exuberant and lively.
Zexion hadn't wanted to take Marine Biology 205. When he registered for the class he remembered thinking that he was not going to enjoy this. He didn't give two craps about the ocean or any lakes and he was only doing so to fulfill his biology requirements. Then their professor just so happened to assign partners for the rest of the semester via the ingenious logic of pairing last names. For a course-long mother-fucking group project.
Zexion Mcmillion.
Demyx Myde.
They were the only two M's in the class of forty-five. Just his luck.
He got the nice-guy who acted sincerely pleasant. Zexion inexplicably wished he could be friends with this guy in some sort of different universe. But he knew that would never happen for numerous reasons. Reasons including the internal list of furtive self deprecating inadequacies his character possessed. If he wasn't so out-of-his mind about life, he would have been content with just staring at the attractive face. But as it turned out, like way too many other people, Zexion was depressed as hell about life the universe and everything. And picky. Did he mention picky? Demyx really wasn't making his mood better.
Demyx lounged back in his chair as he scanned the textbook propped on the table. Zexion could smell his cologne, he'd always had a sensitive nose. Demyx was absently humming songs that Zexion had never heard of, tapping his fingers to the beat. He'd been doing that all afternoon. It made Zexion hate his life because the stab of envy stung (not that he was really going to admit that to himself). He'd never be like Demyx, he'd never have obvious credible qualities. Outside of being a loner scientist obsessed with research.
Zexion bit his lip and tried to still his grinding teeth while he clicked opened the syllabus document on his laptop again. Fucking final projects. Fucking group assignments. Fucking-
"You know, if you frown all the time your face is gonna stay like that." Demyx mentioned with a lopsided smile.
Oh-no-he didn't.
"…" Zexion's eyes were mere slits as he glowered over his computer screen.
Demyx snorted at the expression, "You know, we have two more days to get this done. And I know you don't like me. So let's just split up, I'll do graphs and you do the opening essay."
"No, I'm afraid this is the only evening I'm free." Zexion responded curtly. "And this is undoubtably a group project."
"So we have to work in the same room?" Demyx asked rhetorically, "Cause it's hard to focus when you've got someone glaring daggers at you."
"I want to check over your parts of the project to make sure you don't bring my grade down." Zexion dourly spat.
Demyx sighed, shrugging. He started humming again as he flipped the page of his book with one hand.
Zexion didn't get it. He'd probably insulted this kid more times than he could count, but the guy just took it. He never called him names or said anything mean in return. It just rolled off him as if he'd never heard it. And when a person insults another just to get a rise out of them and they don't even deem those remarks with a response… that was just so fucking frustrating.
Zexion dug his fingers into his hair. He knew Demyx had done nothing to deserve his contempt, except for being the exact type of person Zexion actually admired the most. He looked up to people who could act like Demyx did, and stress found him lashing out for no good reason.
"Look-" Zexion peered up at Demyx under his fringe of hair, "I apologize. I'm edgy right now, and don't mean to take it out on you. I will work better if you could simply refrain from humming."
Demyx blinked for a moment, then gave him a casual smile, "No problem, you could've just said so."
Zexion sighed, glancing up at the clock. They'd been working on this for almost six hours non-stop. Mentally he needed a break.
But now Demyx was finally silent. He was scribbling formulas down into his Hello Kitty notebook. And seriously, what man had cutesy notepads in their junior year of college? With a glittery cerulean colored gel-pen atop that?
Demyx was staring at him curiously, "What now?"
Zexion flinched, his brain booting back on, "Pardon?"
"You were kinda watchin' me again."
Zexion raised an eyebrow, "Again? And I don't mean to. My mind is just tired."
He stared down at the table and felt the urge to add, "I can't believe a man your age would use a Hello Kitty notebook. Those are meant for girls in junior high school."
Demyx glanced down at his glittery writing before giggling, "Yeah, I get shit for it all the time. But it's cute, and look at the wee turtle pictures that they put on the corner of the page?"
Zexion couldn't help the smirk, "That statement alone is rather abnormal."
Demyx nodded his agreement, "I get that a lot."
"Perhaps we should take a break?" Zexion suggested.
Demyx tilted his head, "Sure. What do you wanna do?"
"Not think about the lifestyle conditions of algae concentrations in regional freshwater lakes for twenty minutes."
Demyx stretched his arms above him, "Yeah, okay."
A beat of silence passed between them.
"You must be very stressed." Demyx commented.
"Why is that?"
"Well, you just sort of seem like you're close to breaking point, I guess. I suppose it's finals and all that jazz, my best friends are also super pissy recently."
Zexion sighed again as he cupped his face in his hand, "You are correct. I took far too many credits this semester."
"How many?" Demyx asked curiously.
"Twenty-two."
Demyx cringed, "Oh, god, yeah, that'll do it."
Zexion shut his laptop gracefully and gazed out the window across the hall from their study cubicle.
"So…" Demyx spoke hesitantly.
"Yes?"
"Why do you like, hate me, dude? I mean, you haven't been particularly pleasant since I met you. You act like I've offended you."
Zexion turned back towards the other student and spoke honestly. "I do not hate you. I truly don't intend to act so… deplorably."
"Yah, I figured that kinda too. That's why I don't bitch you out when you get snarky."
"You probably should when I do so. I'm not particularly nice in the first place. And furthermore, I'm simply not adept at group projects."
Demyx giggled, "It's cool. As long as you don't hate me or whatever. Cause I actually think you're kinda awesome."
Zexion's jaw dropped, "Excuse me?"
Dem hummed as he leaned forward, "You probably don't remember this, but you were in my philosophy seminar two semesters ago. I was impressed with how much you knew your stuff back then, and was initially kinda happy to be your parter this term. But you didn't seem all too pleased when we ended up together."
Zexion blinked, astonished. Demyx hadn't struck him as the type to be so insightful or even remember that class. Zexion had seen Demyx back then, and at the time was also impressed by his dedication to learn.
"In all actuality…" The slate-haired man felt like imploring, "I admire your particular sort of intelligence also, and do wish to emulate that quality in people."
It was Dem's turn to look confused.
"What I mean is, that you understand social interaction. Communication and stuff. The social sciences."
"… Well, thanks. So why were you pissed again?"
Zexion finally cracked a smile, "Probably because I've been doing too much homework and working doubles."
"You're not as bad with communicating as you think." Demyx replied. "You did apologize when I called you out on it. A true asshole would've just continued acting like an asshole."
Zexion dropped his chin to the table, "It's really no excuse for acting inappropriately."
"You'd be surprised." Demyx reasoned.
He glanced down at the coursework again before saying, "You know what? Screw this though. C'mon, if you think about it we can seriously pile this report together with the data we already have and receive at least a B. I know you might be gung-ho for grades like I am, but I'm pretty sure our average is going to even it out if we just sorta get this crap done quick."
Zexion raised an eyebrow, "And you are suggesting?"
"Let's finish this in ten minutes, dropbox it, and go out for a drink."
Zexion snorted, "I don't consume alcohol."
"So? You're twenty-one, right? And you don't have to be up super early tomorrow?"
"No, but-" Demyx cut him off.
"But nothing. If you don't have fun every once in a while you will never find true happiness. Work hard, play hard, right? You don't have to have more than one beer, but seriously I think it would do you some good." Demyx insisted.
Zexion gazed at the strange, mildly-irritating, not to mention talkative student before him. And then back down at the table. Then back up again.
Bringing out his cell-phone from his jeans pocket he fiddled with it for a moment before smirking at Demyx and flipping the screen to show him a timer. The timer was counting down from ten minutes.
"You're on. Whoever finishes first has to buy the drinks."
Demyx grinned and resumed working.
They managed to finish fifteen minutes later, scooting beside one another to assemble the essay on Dem's macbook.
And then, like nothing was amiss, as if Zexion hadn't acted like an asshole to him for six weeks, Demyx dragged him out of the library and down the street towards a pub.
Zexion would never actually one hundred percent remember that evening. All he knew was that when he woke up the subsequent morning, Demyx was passed out in his bed naked as the day he was born.
TBC.