AN: Originally, this was going to be a oneshot, but then it got huge, and I divided it into two chapters. D: For those of you who read the first one, my writing style is a little different (a little more grown-up, maybe?). And if you haven't read "Confidence," please do. C:
This is the sequel to "Confidence" that I thought to write, and, guess what! I finally did! I got inspired by a fic on Livejournal called "Hot-Blooded" by an author named ronsard. It's reall great! I had trouble, though, figuring out a title. I worked with "Temptation" for a while, because it was going to be just one huge smut-fest, but that didn't work out. Then I worked with "Scars" but worried it would sound like an emo-fest. XD
So I settled on "Gold." I'm pretty proud of how it turned out! I hope you like the first part enough to read the second. C:
EDIT: I went through and fixed up a few typos, thanks to Karasu for the look-over! --heart-- Gold
By Eden
:Part One:
For the Melodious Nocturne, it was a "day in, day out" type deal. Joining the ranks of the humanoid Nobodies had made life duller than what he originally remembered from his past life. He could recall, distantly, the thrashing of hot bodies in a crowd, the ache of his vocal chords threatening to give out, the screaming and screeching of fans and guitar alike.
The memories seemed so far-off, now, as he wandered the white-washed walls of The Castle That Never Was with something resembling boredom overworking him. Usually, he had something with which to entertain himself, but upon this day, he found his interests stretched thin. No words seemed to morph into proper lyrics, Heartless extermination was at an indeterminable standstill until Xemnas announced their next target, and the members strayed far from one another as much as possible. It was almost like some unwritten rule that all of the Organization's employees had to observe: interaction is strictly forbidden.
And so Demyx sat alone in the conference room, almost hoping for Xemnas to sweep in and give one of his lengthy speeches about "nothingness… hearts… eternal… darkness…" and so on and so forth. And that was a pretty pathetic hope. However, it wasn't Xemnas who entered the room to cheer the Nocturne; instead, a much more interesting figure arrived.
Greying hair pulled back tight into a ponytail and eyepatch placed oh-so efficiently over his right eye, scratching the scar on his left cheek with a gloved hand, Xigbar strode into the room. Well, more like slithered. Xigbar just seemed to walk like that, like he was stalking his prey, unless he was running. Then it looked more like the awkward staggerings of a wounded antelope with a stick lodged up its hindquarters.
Anyway, it was at this moment that Demyx sincerely wished he could disappear. Well, duh, portalling, but it would much too obvious, what with the poof of black and purple smoke, which couldn't be missed by even a half-blind man. More like he wanted to just… fade into invisibility, or camouflage himself.
For this discomfort stemmed from the fact that the Freeshooter, the object of Demyx's supposed "affections" (though Demyx knew one-hundred-percent that they were in no way "supposed") had figured out he was such at one certain trip to Wonderland some time ago. After that, it seemed that Xigbar had been distracted and gone wholly out of his way to avoid IX at all costs, perhaps because that one small act at the end of their journey had thrown a wrench into the whole "no hearts" system of things.
Xigbar's single golden eye managed to capture teal, and Demyx froze solid like one of Vexen's ice sculptures (which he made when he wasn't playing mad scientist).
"Hey."
Jaw slackened, IX could hardly grace the greeting with a reply.
"What'cha doin' here, squirt?"
Truly, it was quite the endearing habit of II. "Kid," "lil' dude," and "tyke" were a few other names that Xigbar just adored calling the other members. "Squirt," however, was a new one. Perhaps he had been trying it out on Roxas in the span of his avoidance.
But it was approximately at this time that Demyx realized he was simply staring blankly in Xigbar's former-direction, for the older Nobody had taken it upon himself to "voip" to Demyx's seat's armrest. His eye was incredulous.
"Uh, well, y'see, I was just, y'know…" insert a flailing hand-motion here, followed by a stuttered out, "nothing."
II took it as a feasible response, but decidedly kept the conversation moving forward, "Just bein' bored, eh?"
Demyx, as nonchalantly as possible, shrugged as the Freeshooter seemed to perch like a parakeet upon the arm of the marble throne. The Nocturne automatically associated the thought with pirates, which caused the Nobody to suppress a giggle. The mental image of Xigbar in a feathered hat would be enough to even break through Lexaeus' stoic exterior (which was not to be mistaken for stupidity; Demyx would know—he happened to have philosophical discussions with the guy. Just because Lexaeus happened to quieter than the rest of them did not necessarily make him any less intelligent).
"So, anyway, I was thinkin' if maybe you wanted to head somewhere just to hang out for a while? 'Cuz, as you can see, there's not too much happenin' around these parts," Xigbar finally cut into Demyx's picture of the Freeshooter in a poofy shirt hoarding a keg of rum with a pistol stuck up under some poor random Joe's neck.
The very question struck a chord of fear in Demyx. He had mulled over the thought of being murdered by another member once before, but none too seriously. However, Demyx often had a way with twisting his own brain into complicated knots if given just the right amount of seconds. Maybe Xigbar planned to haul him off to some random world, shoot him to little bits, and then dump his body in the ocean of a miscellaneous sewer (though he was pretty certain there would be little left of him to dump anywhere once Xigbar was through with him), all for making him consider the concept of a kiss out of "love." Or maybe, just maybe, Xemnas had found out, and had ordered the Freeshooter to do away with Demyx on the grounds that he was a threat to the unwritten rules of Nobody-dom, thus the Nocturne would be destroyed by the very man he felt he adored. How tragic!
Yet that very same question raised his eyebrows and had him saying, "Really?"
Honestly, he considered asking for a diagnosis to see if he had the mental condition of split personalities.
"Sure, I was thinkin' of maybe goin' someplace warm 'n tropical for a while, and no one else would be interested, so I just decided to ask you," Xigbar answered, making wide and grand hand-gestures during his lecture. Demyx swore that Xigbar winked at him, but it could have just been a blink.
There seemed to be something more behind the Freeshooter's explanation, however. Of course, as with all of the Nocturne's train of thought, it branched off into a million tiny twigs at that statement at what that "something more" could be. One, he could be serious in his offer: fun in the sun and all that jazz. Two, he had a desperate need to eliminate Demyx as soon as possible, without the repercussions of getting caught by anyone else. Three, he was going to rape him.
Wait, whoa, from where did that little random tangent come? Demyx's mind sure worked in the oddest of ways.
In the end, IX's curiosity got the better of him. Hell, it if meant getting out of this dull, drab castle, Demyx would be willing to have a knife-fight with Death himself.
"Sure, let's head out," Demyx answered before his brain could tap into anymore unknown variables.
Xigbar seemed pleased at this response, for he threw an arm around IX's thin shoulders with a grin, one gleaming fang protruding from beneath his lip.
"Now that's what I like to hear!" the Freeshooter announced proudly, poking a finger into Demyx's chest.
Rolling his eyes and praying that Xigbar would overlook the heat that had begun to flush into the younger Nobody's cheeks, Demyx responded with a small, "Whatever." With a sly grin, II immediately opened up the pathway to the Corridors of Darkness. As they began to descend into the seemingly never-ending chasm, the Nocturne felt himself straying close to Xigbar for some semblance of comfort. The idea that he was going to blast him into bits was pushed promptly to the back of his mind.
"So, what world are we headed to, exactly? I mean, tropical is a good descriptive word," (and, in actuality, was number nine on his list of favorite words), "but it doesn't really explain where we're going," Demyx said after a stretch of darkness had been covered. Though… it didn't seem any different than a few paces back. Darkness had scant few landmarks.
"It's a nice place. Sand golden and as far as the eye can see. And sun? Could melt butter in seconds," Xigbar replied, once again working his broad hand gestures to show that he was totally steeped in seriousness.
"But… what's it called?"
"What's what called?"
Obviously, Xigbar wasn't the brightest of Nobodies at times. Demyx found it oddly adorable.
"The place that we're going to; what's it called?" the Nocturne repeated as he began to see the darkness receding into a dim orange light.
"Agrabah, man. Best place I've ever been to. Trust me, you will love it."
It didn't tell Demyx a lot, really, though he knew he had heard the name before. He had only been on recon missions to the Coliseum every now and again… plus that one time in Wonderland.
…Then there was the "Atlantica Incident," but he preferred not to divulge on that little exploit.
Before long, however, the name "Agrabah" rang a few too many bells as Demyx fell into soft powdery gold sand. The initial thing he did was trip and fall face-first into it. Then he noticed the rancid smell. Then the sweltering heat.
Ugh. Tropical. Ha.
"This is our vacation spot?" Demyx sputtered, wiping flakes of sand from his fact after that dramatic fall.
"Yeah, pretty sweet, right?"
"It smells like camel!"
"It is camel."
Around this time, IX had managed to get to his knees. With a glance around, he could see nothing but sand, sand, and (yup, you guessed it!) more sand. He noticed that the sun was slowly moving across the sky and was sluggishly sinking toward the horizon, tipping off that the afternoon was morphing into the evening. It still didn't change the fact that it was still hot as Hell.
And he could also see… camels.
Joy.
There came a clanking and a thud from what appeared to be the only piece of civilization in the center of all this sand; it was just a tiny shack, open and with a counter at the front, with assortments of knick-knacks hanging here and there.
The source of the noise came into view: a grungy little man with a bushy black beard and a gold-toothed smile.
"Ah, visitors! Come, come, see if you buy my wares!" the man insisted, his accent thick and his English broken, yet smooth, as though practiced.
Demyx clamored to his feet as the Freeshooter sauntered over to the vendor, his greying hair swishing back and forth with his swaying stride. Demyx caught up to him, asking, "You don't know that guy? Don't you have the Corridors take you to the same place each time you come here? I mean, isn't that the smartest idea? And, I mean, don't you even know where we are?"
"Nope, on all four counts. I like to try new places, so I just dumped us wherever," Xigbar answered, shooting a smirk over his shoulder.
Oh great, they were probably lost before they had even begun. Still, the Nocturne stayed back, so as to allow Xigbar to do all the talking with the vendor, who had shuffled to the front of the counter expectantly.
"Hey, listen, we're travelin', and I was thinkin' it would be cool of you if you could give us one of those camels so we could get to the city which is…" a pause, in which Xigbar crossed his arms and applied pressure to his left leg, his hip jutting outward, "which way again?"
The vendor blinked, his mind trying to keep up with Xigbar's odd dialect, but it managed to process.
"North, straight that way, my friend" he answered, poking a grubby gold-ringed finger in the direction of which he spoke. "So, you buy camel?"
At this thought, Demyx cringed. There was no way in Hell.
He tapped on Xigbar's shoulder, breaking the rule of staying out of the conversation, and the older Nobody turned his neck back immediately, his eye on the Nocturne attentively. In a whisper-hiss, Demyx explained his qualms, so the little grungy man wouldn't overhear and be hurt. Demyx was considerate, if anything else.
"Please, Xig, can't we just go by Corridor, to a place that you already know? I mean, it'll be so much faster, and, I mean…" and here his voice hissed with extreme emphasis, "…those camels stink."
With a "pft," Xigbar rolled his eye.
"C'mon, little man, half the fun of this trip is the travelin'! And, I mean, we use those Corridors way too much. We should totally learn how to rough it out in the wilds on our own."
"But it's so hot."
"Dude, your element is water. Don't be such a wuss."
And with that, the argument was over. Case closed. Xigbar had won, undoubtedly.
…As if Demyx could win, anyway.
The Freeshooter turned back to the vendor, who had contented himself with straightening all his random little items on the counter. He broke into a golden smile.
"Ah, my friend, so what shall it be?"
"We'll take one."
"Why not two?" Demyx cut in, but was promptly ignored.
"Ah, so one camel? Payment?" the vendor continued, also obviously ignoring IX. Boy, it sucked to be young.
"A poem."
The vendor furrowed his caterpillar-like brows, his thick lip protruding in thought.
"Poem?"
Xigbar put behind his back a hand, and when it was back in front of him, a gun had materialized in his grip, the point of the thing right at the other man's neck.
"Roses are red, violets are blue, gimme a damn camel, or I'm shootin' you."
--------------------
Needless to say, Xigbar's poetry had worked wonders for getting the guy to cough up his best dromedary.
"It smells!" Demyx complained for the nth time. He wondered which would knock him out first: the raunchy rank of camel, or the overpowering sun. He imagined both would kill him before Xigbar did (or so he kept thinking to himself). Though, perhaps, if he did whine again, II would finally crack and end him once and for all.
However, Xigbar seemed at ease with the head and Demyx's constant complaint. Ugh, how could he stand keeping his robe zipped all the way up, still, after all of this riding? Demyx had long since shed his coat and thrown it over the camel's back for a makeshift saddle, leaving just a teal sleeveless shirt for coverage.
And that was another thing: his butt was falling asleep. His coat cushioned it slightly, but hardly enough to make a difference.
Leaning into Xigbar's back (the older Nobody insisted he be the driver, which was just as well; Demyx would get turned around and lost, simply because the concept of direction hardly existed to him) and attempted to sleep the rest of the trip.
Xigbar, though, wanted conversation.
"You're warm, lil' dude."
Demyx wasn't exactly in a chatty mood, and replied with a venom-coated, "So you noticed."
"Don't be a smart-ass or you're walkin' the rest of the way. Look, why don't you just make some water, since you can do that after all, am I right?"
"Because, Mr. I-Know-Freakin'-Everything, I am dehydrated. And when I'm dehydrated, I can't magically poof water into existence. I'm tired, my butt is now completely asleep, and this camel not only smells, but it wreaks, stinks, and its odor is nauseatingly sickening!"
And with that, Demyx banged his head against Xigbar's shoulder blade, not even worrying if he hurt him physically or emotionally, his cheeks flushed with the exertion of complaint.
Usually, IX didn't whine. He usually just put up with crap with a smile plastered to his face. However, one can only take so much discomfort before reaching a threateningly critical breaking point.
Unfortunately, they were perhaps only an hour into their trip, and Demyx's point had been utterly and disastrously shattered.
A long moment of silence mourning the loss of Demyx's patience later, II said, and rather apologetically, "Sorry, kid… Didn't know you wouldn't have fun."
At this one simple statement, a wave of guilt passed over the Nocturne so swiftly that it was like one of Xaldin's spears piercing his gut (which, in all likelihood, would hurt like Hell, but Demyx wasn't about so keen on finding out firsthand). Xigbar had never meant to cause such trouble for the Nocturne, Demyx realized. He could never have predicted this happening in a million years, let alone one hour.
"It's… okay," IX apologized, too, after a time, his cheek resting a little more fondly against the hot black leather covering Xigbar's back. He wondered, briefly, if his back had scars matching the one on his face. The thought, though, didn't linger very long.
The camel sneezed, or coughed, Demyx wasn't sure, then Xigbar followed with, "Just relax, lil' dude. We'll be there before long, and we'll find a place to stay. Why don't you take a nap for a little while, 'kay?"
For a moment, Demyx considered the possibility that Xigbar was addressing the camel, but quickly realized that he was talking to him. Thank goodness. At least the heat hadn't gotten to him. Xigbar was already crazy enough.
Snuggling into the Freeshooter's back, just a little closer than before, the Nocturne wrapped his arms about Xigbar's waist and, ignoring his numb bum, closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep eventually.
Before that time, he swore he heard II let out a sigh that sounded as though it could be exasperated… or joyful.
--------------------
"Hey, dude. We're here."
With a low moan at the back of his throat, Demyx could see that reality was coming back into focus, losing the blur around its edges. The movement of the camel had ceased, but, unfortunately, the smell hadn't.
"C'mon, kid, get up. You're droolin' on me."
Leaning back from Xigbar, he could see clearly a line of saliva dripping down his coat. He quickly wiped it off with a gloved hand.
II jumped down with incredible ease, but turned about to hold out a hand for Demyx to take. The Nocturne, placing his own hand in his hesitantly, was hoisted down gently, aside from the faceplant into Xigbar's chest, which left him breathless and embarrassed. The Freeshooter remained unfazed.
"Alrighty, time to go look for a place to lounge… though it may be difficult due to my lack of poetic muse at the time being," Xigbar announced, scanning about and beginning to walk forward to the wall that bound the city from the outside desert world.
Demyx rolled his eyes away from II as he picked his coat off the camel and held it to his chest. Still, he had to admit, Xigbar had an amazing and unceasing wit. It was definitely one of those traits that just drew him to the older Nobody.
IX complied to the plan, and the camel remained tied to the stall at the outskirts of the city. Good riddance, Demyx spat mentally on the smelly beast. He hoped never to see a camel again as long as he lived. Er, non-lived. Or something.
The two were greeted at the expansive mahogany double-doors by a rough-looking giant of a man with a hardened frown on his face. Demyx kept to himself about that being a mug only a mother could love.
"Outsiders," the guard remarked simply. His voice was made of harsh gravel. He didn't seem at all pleased to allow the Organization members past.
Yet still, it seemed that Xigbar had just the right "stuff" to get them on through.
"Excuse me, sir, but we are the ambassadors… from the other side of the sand. Denial of our entry would be… how should I put this? Extremely calamitous. And I doubt that you would like the consequences if we are not met at the designated time and it is all your doin'. So, if you would, my kind sir, we would be most… unforgiving if you do not allow our passage."
Wow, Demyx had to hand it to the Freeshooter—he knew how to lay down a yarn. IX had never personally seen this done (Wonderland had proved much too loopy for Xigbar to get a foothold on his talents), but had heard extensively of Xigbar's exploits in the way of storytelling. To put it simply, he was legendary. 'He could pull the wool over anyone's eyes,' Axel had once remarked. Now, Demyx could see it was true.
The guard seemed to waver in his resolution, his rigid features twisting into something resembling thought. Xigbar's words had been solid no-nonsense.
"Identification?" the guard finally asked, his voice tingeing into triumph, as if he had managed to find his trump card that would win the battle of wits.
"We were sent here without identification, in the case that our mission was compromised. You'll just have to take my word… and consider the repercussions of denying out entry," the Freeshooter replied coolly, prepared, fangs protruding like those on a cat who had won victory over his mouse.
By now, the guard was sweating, stumped, defeated. Geez, leave it up to Xigbar to scare a guy twice his size and three times his weight. With nervous grandeur, the guard stepped from the center of the doors and off to the side, giving a regretful bow to the two Nobodies.
"Enter," he said shortly.
Without a moment's hesitation, II pressed a hand to the door and shoved it open, Demyx trailing swiftly behind. Once into the city, Demyx realized he had been refusing to draw breath, so he quickly released his lungs and gulped down new air.
"Boy, he sure was a talkative fellow," Demyx commented once the entrance had been shut behind them, followed by an awkward chuckle.
"Smart, too," Xigbar added jokingly, his golden eye passing over the crowd into which they had plunged. "Let's just hope we never see his lovely face again."
It seemed that the rushing business hours were drawing to a close, for as they sauntered on through the city, vendors left and right were attempting to strike deals with anyone relatively close to their stalls, including the two Nobodies, as urgently as possible. Several times, Demyx found himself distracted by the oddities presented.
"You, gentleman!"
"…Who, me?" Demyx questioned, stopping short and turning to a man half his size and twice his age and skin-tone.
"Yes! You buy my horned-toad aphrodisiac, you become popular, yeah?"
"Your—what?"
"Get movin' Nocturne," the Freeshooter cut in, grappling by the shoulders and rushing them along the packed street. Briefly, IX wondered if this was what sardines felt like all shoved in that tiny can."
"But, Xig, he wanted to sell me something—"
"They all want to sell you something, lil' dude. Besides, I doubt you'd want what he was sellin'," Xigbar answered, giving a small chuckle and smirk.
"What was he selling me, anyway? I couldn't understand what he was offering."
"And you don't need to."
"Why not—?" but Demyx found he was cut off once more by a loud voice and a tug on his sleeve.
"Traveler! You stay in room for the night! Warm bed, good sleep, service—"
"We'll take it," II answered for Demyx, holding the younger nobody firmly by his upper arms from behind, almost protectively form the man who had dared lay a hand on the Nocturne.
"Ah, good, good! Come, I take you!" the man responded with glee, motioning to the two to enter the door behind him. The three treaded up the shoddy, chipped stone steps and were eventually met with a large, open room. One wall was open, halfway down from the ceiling, to reveal the bright and sandy city and the blue sky outside. Pale mauve cloth hung down to act as curtains. The only important feature of the room was a mat of blankets that served as a bed.
"You get water by the well out door downstairs. Feel free to go wherever you wish during the day. Have a good time with your stay, travelers. Pay by morning," the man bowed with a grin, emphasizing that last bit about the payment. And with that, he turned on a heel and trudged back down the steps.
After a moment, Demyx grinned, crossing his arms about his midsection.
"Got another poem?"
The Freeshooter, however, remained nonplussed as he sprawled out onto the "bed" and took a small, tweed coin pouch from his sleeve and tossed it beside him.
"Nope," he answered smugly with a grin, canines gleaming.
"How—How did you pull that off?" Demyx questioned, sincerely astonished.
"Please, in a crowd that large, it was more than a breeze to pick off that little thing."
Demyx shrugged, discarding the hot black robe he had held like a pacifying blanket the entire time of their traverse through the market beside Xigbar.
"Man, it's hot," he commented casually, plopping down on his robe and wiping the sweat from his brow with a gloved hand.
"How about we rest a little bit, and things'll be a little less hectic at night once all the shops are closed up. Besides, it looks like you could take another nap," Xigbar replied, sitting up and turning from the younger Nobody to unzip his coat and kick off his boots.
"Yeah… Yeah, that sounds like a plan," Demyx answered, averting his eyes as the Freeshooter's robe slipped off his shoulders. He tugged off his own boots with shaking hands.
The two wiggled into their places, not even bothering to cover up due to the scorching heat, as far from one another as possible. Demyx tried not to think of Xigbar's skin as he drifted off to sleep.