AN: Yeah, I should be working on Uncertainties, but this idea has been chasing me around for a week now. Just a short drabble-esque one-shot inspired by the quote at the end (since putting it at the beginning would spoil my fun). Sorry if it gets awkward in places… but enjoy!

Disclaimer: Of course I don't own Kingdom Hearts!

Summary: Zexion was used to the daily chatter from the hyperactive blonde by now; that did not mean that he did not protest the uninhibited flow of speech sometimes, but he always remained quiet.

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Superfluous Speech

"What a long day! I just came back from another mission. Actually, it was supposed to go to the new recruit, but the Superior decided to give it to me…"

Zexion let out a sigh as his companion rattled on about his day. He was used to the daily chatter from the hyperactive blonde by now; it was understood that Demyx simply needed someone to talk to who would listen. That did not mean that he did not protest the uninhibited flow of speech sometimes, but he always remained quiet.

Sometimes, Zexion would just let the words wash over him, absorbing like some strange form of osmosis without truly comprehending so that he would be able to give a response later on if the blonde tried to test him. Instead, he would take the time to glance every so often up from his books or paperwork at the animated narrator. It had become somewhat of a pastime for him, to see how much of Demyx's features he could memorize and clearly imagine in his head later on.

"… so he sent me off to the Pride Lands to – surprise, surprise – snatch something important…"

Zexion glanced up from the book he was now barely reading in order to start the game. His eyes moved up to the bizarre statement that Demyx called his hair. When Zexion had first met him, he believed that he looked absolutely ridiculous with his hairstyle, a clash of two time periods that definitely should not mix. He watched as the blonde spikes bobbed slightly as Demyx grew more involved in his story-telling, as if there was a living creature on top of his head.

Eventually, though, Zexion came to accept the creation, realizing that it naturally reflected Demyx's personality: excited and anticipating on the surface, but naturally relaxed and calm beneath it all. Perhaps that was the reason he chose to style his hair that way, a taste of both worlds. Or perhaps he had grown to accept the style because of the feel of that silky hair (softer than most would think with all those spikes) when he would run his gloveless fingers through it…

"…It was so hot! I mean, come on now, I was wearing this damn coat in a savannah…"

It was hard not to focus on Demyx's hands when he started ranting. Usually, they'd start crossed as he sat casually on the chair, but somehow, as the one-sided conversation picked up speed, his hands would gain a life of their own, swinging to and fro as if they could recreate the very scene with movement alone.

Despite the energetic movement, Zexion also knew that those hands could be quite gentle. In fact, those were the very hands that covered his own gloved hands in reassurance in the rare times that he chose to speak. Zexion more so knew those hands when they were gloveless, the hands that daringly took his and made the first move, the hands that cupped his face when Demyx's face was mere centimeters from his own, the hands that also loved to run through his silver bangs, the hands that have explored and know every inch of his skin, and the hands whose fingers laced with his as they lay in comfortable silence.

"… I could have sworn that I saw a warthog and a meerkat run by chasing a shockingly large beetle…"

Zexion could never avoid glancing into Demyx's eyes. No matter what Demyx was doing at the moment, they always seemed to hold their own kind of shine, a twinkle of the seemingly endless supply of charisma that he always had. Zexion also had to admit, that shine could quickly become a weapon when Demyx used his extremely convincing puppy-dog eyes which no one could possibly turn away.

Those eyes were actually the first thing to draw Zexion to Demyx. The unique glow of warmth in those eyes sparked a curiosity in Zexion which only grew as Demyx came to him more and more for a conversation partner. As he looked on longer, he felt as if he were staring into two sparkling pools of water to which no ocean and sky could compare, and before he knew it, he would start sinking into their depths…

When Zexion started thinking in poetic lines, he knew it was time to stop staring. He quickly broke the split-second connection he had stared into Demyx's eyes to calmly (not) read over another page in his book.

"… so there I was, complete with hood and all zipped up, trying to nab this trinket…"

Zexion finally let his eyes slide down Demyx's face to its last destination: the source of the persistent flow of speech yet continuing. Like his hands, his lips seemed to have a life of their own whenever Demyx would speak of his long day or rant about a current mission. This was how Zexion usually saw Demyx's lips.

He knew that it was in Demyx's nature to continue raving like a madman, but Zexion couldn't help but groan inwardly at the unnecessary words that proceeded to tumble from those pink-petal lips that he knew could do much more than simply move in accordance to the simple process of speaking. 

Constantly moving up and down, forming words with quick and deliberate movement, Zexion couldn't help but become mesmerized with the motions as he stared, not caring that Demyx must have noticed his inattention, and only focused on the hypnotic spell that those lips caused…

"Zexy? Are you still listening to m…mmph…"

Despite Zexion's lack of speech, he knew other things that his lips were good at.

And when they separated and he looked into his eyes, he only saw understanding as a comfortable silence surrounded them and he leaned forward to recapture the source of the – finally stopped - superfluous speech.

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A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous.

- Ingrid Bergman