This pairing does not need love.

It needs to be put down. Oh lord so wrong in so many ways... not that I hate Vexen or anything, but I was so bored I decided to toy with the thought.

This is what came out. Horrible. But I thought I might as well put it up. I can get some valuable critique on this one, I know. So help me out guys! Critique is loved and appreciated.

Warnings/Disclaimer: I own nothing and I never will. Some launguage and sexual situations.

:: Edit ::

Thanks to my lovely, wonderful and oh-so-talented beta, Mousewolf, this story has a completely new light about it. I can honestly say this is covered. Complete. Finished. (I'll never touch this pairing again. LOL!)

:: End Edit ::


"Love me," he whispered soft, breathy. He sounded so humble, so sincere, but those demonic green-acid eyes still glimmer with laughter, with stubborn cockiness.

"You shit…"

"What?"

A thin laugh. "You just wouldn't be Axel if you didn't give me that look."

"Oh really?" he hums, driving his hips down against the blond beneath him.

Axel's always had a thing for blonds, of any kind.

"Tell me… I'm brilliant…"

"Oh, I forgot," he whispers even softer, close enough bite the ear to which he speaks, and he does so, none-too-gently. "You get off on that bullshit, don't you?"

"Yes…"

The redhead's thin arms reach up slide under the mess of long blond hair. He plays, touches and the blond suppresses the moan that threatens to escape.

"You're ancient. You're ugly. You're not hot at all. I hate you," Axel whispers in the most peculiarly endearing, albeit petulant way.

Eyes of a similar color stare up. They are a slightly duller hue, only as bright as lizard-skin, more humble, but more crazed in every way, and boy are they glaring hard.

"You little shithead!" the blond growls, shoving the redhead away with all the force he can muster.

Axel lands in a shaking heap of gaunt angles on the deep blue china rug. He's laughing, laughing, laughing, loud and mocking and not as sane as it should be, perhaps. It makes the other even more upset. He wants to kick the ignorant little prick, but he resists the urge.

"Whoa! Chill, Vexen!"

"Not funny," the Academic rumbles.

"Oh, but it so is…" Axel spreads himself out suggestively, his tight organization-issue leather pants hugging every inch of him like some kind of sick joke. He's a bizarre juxtaposition of geometric and organic, and the way the light hits him is just obscene. Worst of all, he knows just how to use it. Vexen is on his knees in front of the redhead, hands tracing the lines, the curves, greedily devouring this information.

Nothing but data.

Cold equations.

"You think you're so superior…" the blond whispers, "Let me show you what you really are…"

"What… am… I?" the redhead breathes, chest heaving.

Vexen reaches down, grasps and wrenches a sensitive part of the foolish boy's anatomy. He shrieks. Not just a cry of pain, not even an actual scream: it's high and uneven, like a little girl. His voice cracks pathetically on the highest note, trailing off into a whispered curse in a tongue neither of them remember.

"Nothing but an animal."