Hello everyone this my first Kingdom Hearts fic and I hope you enjoy it but there are a couple things I would like to point out.

THIS WILL CONTAIN MALE/MALE REALTIONSHIPS!!! You no likey that then leave. Also:

-Slightly AU. Takes place before the Organization was created.

-This is a Xig/Xem or Braig/Xehanort fanfiction; other pairings will be put in later.

-Braig aka Xigbar- Does not have the scar on his face or the loss of right eye yet.

-Xehanort aka Xemnas- Skin color is darker than Xemnas' but he lighter than Ansem the Heartless'. His voice is like Xemnas' not Xehanort's ugly voice from the game.

-Even aka Vexen- It would be better to understand if you pronounced 'Even' like 'Evan'. It helps stop confusion between stuff like 'Even though' and 'Even throws'. I hope that wasn't too...confusing.

I will stop talking and ENJOY!!!

Chapter 1: An Encounter

It was another stormy night. Another sleepless night. Another lonesome night. These nights were all too common for the man whose biggest aspiration in life was being a lifeguard of the southern shores of Solitia Island. For as long as he could remember he had been doing nothing for thirty years of his life and he was not about to give that up. His mother had told him to go to the main island and go to college; hell, finish high school, but he did not want to. She told him to stop messing around and spending his days and nights at the beach; but he did not want to. Others, friends perhaps, had told him to take control of his life and stop living like a piece of trash; but he did not want to.

His name was Braig and he enjoyed his life. Even if it meant being trash, he loved every moment of it.

In his early years, Braig was raised on the streets by his dirt poor mother. Homeless they were, and Braig with his carefree nature could not comprehend why his mother was so stressed or why the fancier dressed peoples looked down on them; for he was just a child. Further along in his life he began to understand the differences between the upper and lower classes and he could no longer ignore the way that he was being treated. In all of his years at school he was known as the 'poor surfer', a name that fit him all too well. With that nickname came insults, assaults, feelings of shame and self-loathing quickly consumed his mind to the point where he could bare it no longer. For sixteen years he had been condemned to live his life as someone who was considered to be lower than shit on the floor but during that sixteenth year of his life, he had enough of it.

After that incident, Braig found himself caring less and less about what would happen to him. He would 'go wherever the wave sends him' and live just to be living.

After this sudden realization he dropped out of school and, almost simultaneously, his mother dropped out of his life eloping with the man who owned the neighboring island, Regrit. At the age of seventeen, he acquired a job on the southern most shores of Solitia and has since been living in a small hut on the beach. Now a ripe thirty years old, Braig's life is better than in his pre-adolescent and adolescent ever were. He had friends, one night stands, respect and even a bit of pocket change to spend; he was no longer homeless and penniless piece of trash, but a carefree, lifesaving, sunbathing, and water surfing piece of trash.

Braig stood in front of the small and only window in his hut, gazing out into the roaring and violent storm that only an inch of wood and a plate of glass shielded him from. He continued staring into the storm with a small smile on his face; the waves were of monstrous proportions, slamming and crushing everything that lay beneath it. How he longed to be under that wave! Even if it did end up crushing him in the end, at least he would die happy. One slender finger moved along the window as though he was caressing the dangerous ocean but that could never be; the ocean only acted this way during a storm. He glanced over at the clock just above his bed and chuckled. It was three in the morning and he had just spent three hours of his thirtieth birthday watching storm waves.

"Damn. Dill is totally right about me. I need a girlfriend or something…It's my thirtieth birthday and I'm getting off from watching waves!" Braig exclaimed, walking over and sitting on the cot that was his bed. "Today I'm off, so it's my birthday and I'm going to get laid! And shitfaced! Yeah!" He fell back, the cot creaking underneath his lean body, his hands resting of the back of his head as he drifted off into a dreamless slumber.

-------

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Braig hopped from one foot to the other, while waiting for his friend to open the door. "Christ, Dilan! Hurry up and open the door! I have to take a wiz…like now…opps, I peed on your doorste-" But before he could even finish a huge hand grabbed him and pulled him into the house.

"God dammit, Braig! Do you always have to be so loud?" A taller man with wide sideburns and a mess of black locks dripping from his head down to nearly his abdomen snarled glaring down at his friend.

"Yes. Cuz dude, you never like hear me…" Dilan's look became even more hostile after Braig decided to open his mouth again. Braig ignored the ever-growing fury of the musclar man and walked swiftly to the bathroom at the end of the hall. "Dude! It's so clean!"

"I'm not a complete and total slob like you, you know!"

"Whatever, Dill!" Braig entered the bathroom and came out ten minutes later, clean and dressed in a light blue tank top, royal blue shorts with a single white stripe on the side and a pair of beige flip-flops. "Mmmm….Dilan, that smells so good." He commented while floating into the kitchen, where Dilan was cooking with an apron on but no shirt on underneath.

"Ew! Come on, Dill! Don't cook my food shirtless, you could get some unwanted hairs in my pancakes." Dilan tensed turning around slowly.

"Just because it's your birthday doesn't mean I won't kill you!" he turned back to his cooking, grumbling to himself. "Stupid surfer…only joy in life annoying people, fucking old ass man…"

"What was that, gorilla?"

"Nothing you ass." Braig folded his arms in triumph.

"Better had been, or I would have ripped those precious sideburns of yours off." Dilan grumbled to himself again, trying to ignore Braig and not burn their food. "Awww! Dilly Dill angry? Dilly Dill sad? Is Dilly Dill a big hairy-"

"SHUT THE HELL UP BEFORE I CASTRATE YOU, YOU UNEDUCATED CYCLOPS!!!" Braig held a hand to his mouth trying to contain his laughter but he was failing miserably. Before long the old surfer was on the floor crackling with laughter but the angry chef was not amused, ready to add another scar to his friend's collection.

Braig wiped his tearing eyes still laughing. "Duuude! You have to chill out or you are ready going to….whoa put that down." He ducked just barely evading an airborne twelve inch knife. "Okay! I get it." He raised his hands to signal his surrender only to nearly get glazed by a flying butcher knife. To avoid getting impaled Braig ran out of the house and waited on the steps. "What the hell is his problem today?"

As the thirty year old surfer waited for his food, he dug a tanned hand into his pocket and pulled out pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Regardless of the situation stressful or relaxed as it may be, he needed to satisfy his body's craving for nicotine; a flash of fire and puff of smoke later, he obliged. Braig now sat hunched over staring out into the deserted street before him, frequently taking drags of his cigarette until he saw something, no…someone that caused him to drop the slowly disintegrating tobacco stick on the ground.

It was a man, who could not have been anything past his early twenties, which caught hold of Braig's attention. His skin was a deep beige color and shined brilliantly as the sun kissed it, his hair pure white, flowed down past his shoulder and concluded at the small of his back. He wore a loose white blouse neglecting to button a single button as his beautifully sculpted chest and abdomen shined just as vibrantly as the rest of his body. As Braig continued to gaze dumbly at the young man, he noticed how low his jeans were riding; a single thin black piece of cloth was hugging his waist on the left side of his body and by no doubt it was inviting.

'Maybe I will be getting laid tonight…' He thought as the beautiful white-haired man walked past the house, Braig's golden eyes following him. His walk was neither masculine nor overly feminine, yet it was so graceful and poised that one would have trouble identifying was sex he belonged to. After a few more moments of watching him, Braig lifted himself up and started towards his new target. He kept himself nearly ten feet away, too close for him not to be noticed but his intention was too be noticed; to be seen by the gorgeous eyes that he knew lie behind those dark sun glasses. Braig began to grin as he watched the sauntering man in front of him, but soon he grew tired of just watching him. He wanted to talk to him, touch him, something other than stalk. 'Come on dude, it's your thirtieth birthday…you could never get a chance like this…ever.'

"Yeah," he mumbled to himself. "This has to be a present from god." Braig's eyes rested on the man's backside. "Man…Hey! Wait up!" The man stopped but did not look back at the man who had called him.

Braig walked up in front of the man and looked him over. "I haven't seen a pretty dude like you walkin' around here before. Where you from?"

The man brought his hand up to eye level and said nothing, making the surfer feel quite nervous.

"W-well you know…you're a new face that's all…I-I mean…" The man took the sunglasses off, revealing his spectacular eyes and leaving Braig dumbfounded. Just one look at the man's unmasked features was enough to make him go over the edge right then, but he at least wanted to wait until he spoke to the guy first. "Umm…well…I…"

"I'm from the main island. I hope that you are familiar with it." His voice was deep and smooth so much so that it caused a chill to travel up Braig's spine; he liked it.

Braig shook off his nerves and revealed a smile that beamed as brightly as the sun shining down on them both. "Yeah! Yeah, I am. Like, dude, you are from there? It must make this little island seem well…like a little island." The man looked away from Braig his facial features marked with a sign of boredom.

"Yes, I suppose." Braig began to formulate another plan in which to snag this main-islander. He was well aware that a good portion of the main-islanders were filthy rich and this overly handsome man was no exception; he even looked around at everything with a nearly imperceptible hint of disgust. If he looked at his surroundings this way then he must look at Braig even worse. Braig ran a slender hand through his own silver and black locks, successfully ruining his neat ponytail.

'If I continue to worry like this then I'll never get laid and probably get more of these grey hairs.' He thought looking once again at the main-islander and found himself gazing deeply into the other's tangerine colored orbs. For a moment his heart stopped for he had never seen such intense and focused eyes but, as much as they took his breath away, they also seemed to hold a strange sadness behind them. Before he would surely explode from the sheer amount of conflicting emotions, Braig averted his eyes. The man laughed.

"May I have your name?" His voice startled Braig, who had been lost in his thoughts.

"Huh?"

"You sure are an interesting man…" He stepped back slightly and looked Braig over.

Braig shivered, feeling as though he were under the microscope of scientist or something of that nature. "Y-you think so?" he spat out dumbly.

His eyes rested at Braig's mouth and he smirked. "Yes. I think you are very interesting…" The man stepped closer to him, closing whatever space was between them.

"Uh.." Why was he suddenly speechless? Wasn't he the one trying to seduce him? Braig shuddered as the man, reached his smooth brown skinned hand behind his head. Next, Braig felt his hair being freed from the elastic band that held it captive, causing those newly freed strands to fall down onto his shoulders and into his face. He continued to stare into the man's eyes as he felt a hand massage his scalp. Somehow this whole situation became reversed but, for once, Braig did not mind not being the aggressor. His eyes slowly shut as he relaxed into the soft sensual touches this stranger was pleasuring him with. His body shivered as the man's warm breath hit his ear.

"May I have your name?" he was asked once more.

"Braig…Its Braig." Unbeknownst to Braig, who thought that he simply said his name, instead moaned his answer causing the stranger to release a deep throated chuckle from his lips.

"Braig?" The man repeated into his acquaintances ear. "It has a very harsh ring to it but," he released him from his hold. "It seems to fit you nonetheless." Braig opened his eyes slowly, feeling that surge of pleasure slowly departing from his body.

"Yeah…thanks."

"Well," He placed a hand on Braig's cheek, gently caressing the skin from his cheek down to his slightly pointed chin. "I believe you deserve to know the title that the given to me, since my birth. My name is Xehanort and I'm very pleased to have met you Braig." And immediately after Xehanort had introduced himself, he leaned down, and gently brushed his soft lips against Braig's slightly rough ones, nearly resulting in a total breakdown of Braig's mind and body. Never before had he felt lips so soft upon his and he could think of nothing else but the man who was ever so close to him. This man, no, Xehanort had made Braig feel things in their brief meeting that he had never felt from any of his previous partners. Never before had he felt as lightheaded and weak towards the touch of another human being; but this man, Xehanort, could not have been a simple man. No. He had to be some type of beautiful creature sent from the heavens because he entered the heart of Braig all too easily; one look and he was engrossed in his aura. Before he could get comfortable Xehanort pulled away from him, now standing the distance that two people should stand when they first meet.

And that was too far away for Braig.

The white-haired man chuckled. "How cute…you are blushing." Braig, embarrassed by his girlish reaction, turned his face away from the younger man. "There is nothing to be afraid of." Xehanort pressed a white card into one of the hands of Braig and his other hand running through the older man's hair. "I'll expect to hear from you before the day is gone." He smirked, placing a soft kiss on Braig's forehead, before blushing past the man and continuing on his way down the deserted street; leaving Braig in a storm of his own conflicting emotions. He gave him his number and address too easily. Was there something else that the man wanted? He was too beautiful for Braig to turn down trying to talk to, but it seems that the younger man was doing all of the talking.

Him…

Xehanort.

Braig sighed to himself walking back down the street to his friend's home.

--------

"I will murder you!" Dilan screamed swiping at the air with a sharp knife. Braig folded his arms as a smirk played upon his lips.

"Duuuude. Like calm the hell down, I was just kidding about that! I didn't know you were such a homophobe." Dilan growled; baring his teeth and he could have sworn that his sideburn hairs were flaring up like a cat's tail.

"I'm not! But I will not stand for anyone saying that I ever had relations with that stuck up, bitchy, know-it-all scientist!" He cringed at the thought of that. "God…Braig. Where do you think of these things? I know how promiscuous you are, but do you always have sex on the mind?"

"Of course he does. It is a fact that it is impossible for him to keep his libido in check. Frankly, it disgusts me that humans would participate in such fulsome and despicable acts. Even if there is a sense of pleasure involved with it, I cannot see what the positive benefactors are; and also the exchange of bodily fluids is most unsanitary, proven by the increase number of sexually transmitted diseases contributed by the ugly activities of wondering partners and their lovers. If the emotion called love truly exists, then why do husbands stray away from their wives and vice versa? I believe-" Braig interrupted him.

"Even?"

"Yes, you uneducated idiot?" Braig rolled his eyes; Even always had to push the fact that he was NOT a high school graduate in his face, but the major freak outs and breakdowns that the guy would have made him a very entertaining person to be around. Although they had opposite views about everything, they were two of the best of friends, or at least they had an understanding of one another.

"How old are you?" Even raised one of his flawlessly blonde eyebrows.

"You know perfectly well that I am twenty-nine years old." Braig nodded and played with one of the silver stands dangling in front of his face.

"Yeah, but you're like still a virgin," A vein visibly began to pulse on Even's forehead. "Do you like jack-off ten times a day or something?"

Even growled. "I would never consider doing such an inappropriate and disgusting thing! And Dilan, get you hands out of your pants and stop scratching them!!" Dilan huffed while lounging on the couch one long leg hanging over the top of it, his hand in his pants.

"This is my house so I'll scratch my balls as I see fit!" he yelled back at the scientist.

"Dilan, I can see your pubic hair!" Even lifted his hands up to shield his eyes. That statement only resulted in Dilan accidentally pushing his sweatpants and boxers down so low that Even screamed after seeing Dilan's exposed flesh.

"Agh!! Dilan cover yourself! Do you have no shame?" Dilan looked down at himself and shrugged.

"It's my house I'll walk around stark naked if I want too!" Braig nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, Even and it's only a couple of inches that are out anyways." He pulled up his shirt and yanked down his shorts. "See!"

"BRAIG PUT THAT AWAY!!" Both Even and Dilan cried in unison. Even, whose virgin eyes could no longer stand the sight of such impurities ran from the room and shut himself in his lab/bedroom for mostly the remainder of the day.

"Opps…." Braig pulled his pants back up. "I forgot that I was going commando…" Dilan slapped his head and glared at Braig.

"You just wanted to whip that thing out didn't you?" Braig nodded shamelessly. "God dammit, Braig, he just walked in the house. Did you have to show that thing to him?"

"Yeah, it's not my fault that he is against anything and everything that has to do with sex. No wonder he is so stuck up and uptight; he needs a good dose of sexual intercourse."

"Sorry to burst your bubble, but I'm pretty sure that Even doesn't even masturbate." Braig's mouth dropped wide open.

"Holy shit! Someone needs to save his ass. I can't go six hours without-"

Dilan waved his knife around. "Be quiet you over sexed old man. Heh, Happy thirtieth birthday, old man."

"Shut up!!"

Review please!!! And the second chappie will be up soon!