Pencil Shavings

Disclaimer: KH is greater than me. Therefore, I do not own it. Sad face.

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Demyx. Never had one word contained such pain, agony and longing. Zexion jerked the textbook off the shelf angrily. The fates had clearly conspired against him; he wasn't sure which god he had offended or what sins he had committed to earn him this fate, but in all honesty that was irrelevant. What mattered was the fact that he, perfectly calm, cool and composed Zexion, had gone and fallen madly for his best friend. Better yet, his straight and male best friend. The ultimate clincher? They were also roommates. Yes, Zexion had clearly pissed off some god at some point or another and was being punished for it.

Every day, Zexion got back from class to find Demyx being his Demyx-y self. Sometimes he was playing his sitar, sometimes he was playing PS2, and very, very rarely he was studying. But if Zexion was going to be honest with himself, what Demyx was doing most often was running around the room without a shirt, getting ready to go out. In fact, nine nights out of ten, Demyx went out clubbing. This wouldn't be so bad if 1) Demyx didn't seem to parade around the room in various states of undress for at least two hours prior to going out 2) Demyx didn't look so fucking hot once he was ready and 3) Demyx didn't go with whatever vapid airheaded piece of fluff he was currently boning, then go back to said chick's place afterwards. Zexion had tried to go clubbing with Demyx exactly once, and within five minutes of arriving had had his insides ripped out- or at least in feeling. Demyx and his chick du jour (Lauren? Larene? Something like that) had promptly fallen into a pattern of sex simulation on the dance floor and Zexion, in turn, hadn't been able to feel his lungs. Feigning illness (and not that it was hard, since he really did feel ill) he'd begged off, and then claimed that the smoky environment must have made him sick and he'd rather not go back again. So every night, Zexion simply pretended he lived in a single and Demyx liked to hang out in there a lot during the day. And at night Demyx went back to his own room, not someone else's. And Zexion might someday… someday have a chance. He slammed the textbook down onto the desk and considered hurling his brimming-full cup of coffee across the room. He, as usual, was staying up all night studying for the sake of studying; he never seemed to be able to sleep on nights Demyx went out. Chem wasn't his great love, but it made sense, it was manageable, and it didn't torture his every waking moment. (Many college students may have disagreed with this statement, but they clearly hadn't met Demyx.) He resignedly flipped to chapter five of his book, prepared to review antibonding molecular orbitals, when the door suddenly burst open and a laughing Demyx collapsed against the door frame. Zexion froze momentarily, staring at the secret love of his life, who sank down to the ground still laughing hysterically.

"Demyx…" Zexion approached cautiously, staring at the other boy. His brow furrowed suspiciously when the smell of a brewery hit him. "Demyx, are you drunk?"

Still giggling, Demyx peered up at him. "No, no, I only had five. Six? I don't remember, but I'm cone stold sober. No, no, I'm cold stone sober." He paused, seemingly in thought. "Zexy, I'm pretty, aren't I?"

Zexion gaped. Was Demyx… pretty? Demyx was gorgeous, the most beautiful person to ever grace the earth. But you couldn't exactly tell your roommate that, now could you? "What's wrong with you tonight, Demyx? Where is this coming from?"

He laughed again, but this time his giggles were less hysterical, more bitter. "Kairi dumped me. She wants Sora. Because he's 'pretty.' Stupid bitch doesn't realize that he's in love with Riku, she hasn't got a prayer."

A serious confliction of emotion rose in Zexion's chest. On the one hand, Kairi, the girl Demyx had been seeing for the last month, was out of the picture; Demyx was available, at least for now. On the other, Kairi's desertion had clearly hurt Demyx, or he wouldn't be sitting in their doorway drunk off his ass, asking Zexion (of all people) if he thought he was pretty. In the end, loving concern won out over selfish jubilation, and he knelt down beside Demyx.

"Demyx, of course you're pretty. You're way prettier than Sora. Kairi would have to be blind to miss that."

"I just thought she liked me. I liked her. She's pretty and smart and she smells nice and she's smart. Whoa!" Demyx lost his (seated) balance then and fell into Zexion's shoulder. Zexion stiffened noticeably, but Demyx, still talking, predictably didn't notice. "And we hadn't even done anything yet. She hadn't even let me go in for under-the-shirt action. In fact, she'd barely let me go for over-the-shirt action. Stupid dumb girl." Demyx then pouted so adorably that Zexion felt his heart melting hopelessly. Demyx resumed talking, but Zexion wasn't able to listen. In some corner of his brain he filed away the fact that Kairi and Demyx hadn't done anything. This was relevant for two reasons; the first being that it meant one less person to worry about Demyx sleeping with and the second being it explained both why they'd been together so long and why Demyx was so torn up. Invariably, Demyx became bored with his girlfriends within a week of sleeping with them the first time and broke up with them almost immediately after he became bored. Whenever their friend Axel picked on his for it, Demyx defended himself by citing his diagnosed ADHD. Clearly it wasn't his fault that he couldn't remain into these girls for long, he had a condition! Zexion just counted his blessings; so long as Demyx continued to get bored with his string of girls, Zexion could pretend that the reason none of Demyx relationships lasted longer than the average tabloid scandal was because Demyx secretly loved him. He knew it was bullshit, but it made him feel better, so there was no harm done. He tuned back into the conversation with a start when Demyx pressed his face into Zexion's neck. "You smell nice too. Not like Kairi. Different nice. Zexion smell." Zexion found that he suddenly couldn't move, not one part of his body. He prayed to every god he'd ever heard of and a few that he hadn't that Demyx would move away from him and he'd resume his normal functioning. But in doing this, he forgot about the unnamed deity that had it out for him. So instead of moving away, Demyx pushed closer, pressing his whole body up against Zexion. "You love me, don't you Zexy?" Zexion's throat suddenly went completely dry, and any denial he may have tried to choke out was stifled.

"So Kairi was right," Demyx mused. He snuggled somehow closer, there was no room between them at all anymore and the room and hallway were both quickly escalating in temperature. Zexion felt a bead of sweat travel down his neck, and a sudden shiver wracked his body as Demyx flicked out his tongue and lapped it up. "And you want me, too." Demyx climbed unsteadily to his feet and edged backwards into the room, abandoning the doorframe. Zexion couldn't think; what was going on? Demyx had been pressed up against him, and all he wanted, all he wanted in the world right now, was to get back to that. Demyx held out his hands to him, and Zexion found himself walking towards him, his feet not under his conscious control. Somewhere in his brain, there was a voice screaming at him, reminding him that this was DEMYX, Demyx who was not his, was unattainable. Demyx who was his best friend, who was drunk, who might very well hate him for this in the morning. But denying himself Demyx for so long had left him desperately wanting, and he now found himself unable to walk away, not for any reason. His traitorous feet reached Demyx, and his hands, shaking madly, reached out towards his face, afraid to touch him. Demyx had no such qualms, and Zexion suddenly found himself wrapped in the other boy's embrace, his lips suddenly being met in the most wonderfully-wrong kiss in the world. Demyx kissed him hard, recklessly, pulling Zexion tightly against him like he never wanted to let go. Zexion found himself in a whirlwind of hands, his own and Demyx's, pulling and jerking, shirts ripped over heads, kisses trailed up and down soft, smooth skin, jeans unbuttoned, kicked off. The pair stumbled, fell into the bed and Zexion was consumed with Demyx, Demyx, Demyx; kissing him, touching him, every caress, every shiver. And even in this moment of everything he'd ever wanted, a tear trailed down his cheek; this was wrong, wrong and he knew it. He had ruined everything by caving into this one drunken moment, and it would never be fixable. But he had this moment, this one perfect moment of Demyx, and it would always be his.

He kissed the soft spot right beneath Demyx's ear, whispered the words softly "I love you," and felt himself explode.

The next morning, Zexion woke alone, just as he'd expected. He got up, got dressed, brushed his teeth, and then sat down at his desk to focus on chemistry. That evening he got a letter from the dean saying Demyx had put in for a room change. Zexion's hands shook as he read the letter, then he sat down at his desk and cried.

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