Emptier in Darkness
Summary: Life was hard for Zexion. He could so easily throw it all away, and he would… but there was only one person who could really stop him and that person was the cause of all the [non]heart-ache anyway. Zemyx oneshot.
Warning: Contains boy on boy, sex, bad language, mentions of suicide and just general angst.
Rating: M
Pairing: Zemyx, slight AkuRoku
Dedicated to: My best friend, Sharne. (: For her 16th birthday which may or may not have been a month ago… -fails-
I scream into the night for you,
Don't desert me here,
Don't jump!
The lights will not catch you,
They are deceiving you,
Don't jump!
-- The literal translation of Tokio Hotel's Spring Nicht, that inspired this fic.
Emptiness was something that Zexion had become very much acquainted with. It had invaded his heart some time ago and pushed all of the emotions out of the weak little muscle. Though it had been hard at first- learning how to live with basically no heart, it didn't take too long for the seventeen-year-old boy to realise that sometimes… emptiness was a welcomed treasure.
Some might have called it depression but Zexion wasn't sure he could refer to this state of numbness as anything over than just that: numbness. An icy, tight grip on his heart that just devoured his soul and eventually his whole, fucked-up world turned a comfortable shade of grey. He lost count of how many days he spent like that- he didn't take much notice of anything at all, for a long time.
That is, until Demyx became a part of his life. Demyx had been in Zexion's life since he started high school. But up until five or so months ago, Demyx had just been the annoyingly cheerful, not-so-intelligent kid in his history class. The one that made no sense half the time and got told off for talking all the time. Quite frankly, it irritated Zexion every single lesson he had to spend with the blonde. Then one day, the idiotic boy managed to get his hands on Zexion's phone number (Axel still had yet to pay for that small betrayal of privacy) and all of a sudden the class' typical social outcast was bombarded with positive attention from one of the most popular boys in the school.
Yes, Demyx was popular. Not for the usual reasons; he wasn't fake, shallow or bitchy like the other brainless robots at their cliché little high school. Nor was he particularly interested in sports. He was creative- an arts student with a passion for music that no other angsty teenager's could hold a candle to. Though they both shared a love of creativity; Zexion's interest in literature and Demyx's in music, they were opposites in all other ways.
He had never been one to believe that opposites could attract but then somehow, Demyx burrowed his way into Zexion's non-existent heart and somehow managed to turn that black abyss of nothing into something. That too, had hurt- letting someone into his life after so many years of cold, self-made isolation. It was solid, their odd, new relationship that not only surprised everyone around them but themselves too.
It turned out that Demyx wasn't the happy-go-lucky idiot that Zexion had originally had the hyperactive boy pegged down as. There was a lot of depth to his heart, a lot of layers of personality that made him the most intriguing, complex and admirable person that Zexion ever had the pleasure of knowing. He had a subtle intelligence and while on the outside, he was shining, perfect and happy, the more Zexion found out about his fascinating new friend, the more he realised that Demyx was roughened by the hardships he'd experienced; the losses and the pain. With each new discovery, that little heart being born was tugging him closer to the edge and he was falling deeper in love every day, in love with the boy responsible for this heart's existence.
Everything happened so quickly but they gained a lifetime of trust and feelings for each other in the space of only a few months. That was why, Zexion supposed, as he stood on the roof of the tallest building he could find in his crappy little city, that he ended up in this position. The cold winter winds circled him, as harsh, icy and wild as the melancholic thoughts rushing around in his tired mind.
They'd been so close- to each other and to being something new and deeper- deeper than anything they'd shared so far. As that one aspect of his life- that being Demyx- got better and brighter, the rest of the slate-haired boy's existence grew darker and more miserable. His cousin Paine died in a motorcycle accident, his parents got divorced, he fell out with his old circle of friends and consequently, from excess stress and depression, his grades plummeted. The only thing he could depend on was Demyx, and that was why he clutched the blonde so closely to his aching heart, terrified that he might lose this glimmering light that he had only just discovered.
Maybe that was why Demyx decided he just couldn't hack it anymore. Perhaps the responsibility of making Zexion happy was just something he didn't want to have to own. Or maybe, the blonde's given excuse was the real reason that they couldn't make something more of their intense friendship.
Zexion still remembered the day that they had been walking together. Demyx had insisted on keeping his friend company until Zexion's bus home turned up, even though the freezing autumn rain had been blasting down on them like tiny drops of liquid nitrogen and their noses, cheeks and fingers were glowing red with cold. The street they were standing on had been deserted and Demyx had been laughing so vibrantly- like he always did- the sound rising up over the steady beating of the rain against the pavement and even though he was close to catching pneumonia in his drenched, thin black jacket, Zexion couldn't help but melt in Demyx's aura of pure happiness.
Those piercing aqua eyes of his; that varied between shades of dark blue and bright green, had burned into Zexion's when the taller boy stepped through the puddles, closer to his slightly younger friend and his fingerless-gloved hands cupped Zexion's numb face gently. Zexion could barely feel the tender touch through the cold but it still sent crazed butterflies into a frenzy in his stomach.
Traces of mirth and contentment still lingered in his mind but they disappeared completely as an ominous, rarely-seen sort of seriousness entered Demyx's eyes. They were so close to each other, physically, thanks to Demyx's little shuffle forward so that their damp chests were pressed together, despite the initially awkward height difference. Zexion remembered being entranced by the raindrops sliding down Demyx's flushed face and he remembered realising how fresh and alive Demyx looked out in the heavy rain like this. Water really was his element.
He'd watched, as a pink tongue darted out to brush a raindrop from an equally pink set of lips, his eyes following the action religiously. Of course Demyx had noticed the way his friend's dark grey-blue eyes had darted down to his mouth at the action, but instead of giving the small, cocky smile that Zexion had been anticipating, Demyx just frowned a little.
It was an expression he never wore and it just looked wrong on his almost childish, angelic face. Not only that, but it sent little shots of lightening through Zexion's chest and it wasn't in the good way.
That didn't stop the steady beating of his heart from increasing tenfold when Demyx leaned in a little closer, lowering his head so that his forehead rested against the shorter boy's and their gazes were meeting evenly.
"Zexion…" he'd whispered, and Zexion's name had never sounded so good to him yet so full of foreboding at the same time. The desire to kiss the other boy again rose in him so strongly that he had to bite his tongue to control the urge. Yes, they'd kissed before- and that was what had hope spiralling through Zexion so fast whenever the two were around each other. To Demyx though, Zexion had no idea what it was. All the kisses, no matter how sweet, soft or passionate they were, were always alcohol-induced and the younger boy had no idea what that did to the strength or the meaning of them.
"Zexion," the blonde had repeated, the word carrying more weight this time as his breath skirted over Zexion's slightly pursed lips. "I love you."
It wasn't like time stood still then, but for a split second, if he had time to think about it, Zexion would have thought that his own mind had left his body. That was how surreal it was, to hear Demyx saying those three words that he didn't think he'd ever hear anyone other than his family say to him, ever again.
Though his throat was dry, his eyes shining with the stolen moisture, Zexion somehow managed to let his lips quirk up in a small smile, looking up at Demyx with wide, grey eyes. "I love you too."
That moment was perfect. Kiss me. Zexion had found himself thinking. Just kiss me, please. It was disgustingly cheesy and it probably looked like a scene right out of some soppy chick flick, but Demyx did just that. He leaned in closer and their lips met, melded together softly and sweetly. Little, forming heart fluttering in his chest, Zexion pressed closer and let his eyes slip closed, eyelashes beaded with raindrops and wet against his cheeks.
It had lasted for what could have felt forever, but at the same time, not nearly long enough. Each slow meeting and parting of lips sent a new thrill through Zexion until Demyx's attention moved onto the shorter boy's neck and soft, wet kisses were like the rain, whispering against the sensitive skin and making his body tingle inside.
When they drew back to breathe, the foggy, humid air feeling thick in their heaving chests, Zexion was smiling up at Demyx as if everything had just become ten times brighter from the moment their lips touched. Demyx, however, was returning the gaze evenly but with a trace of something unreadable in his glittering sapphire eyes. The frown was back on his face as soon as his heavy breathing had returned to normal.
Demyx's hands were at the base of Zexion's neck now, fingertips awkwardly fiddling with a few slate-grey spikes. "But I can't do this."
Everything that they'd shared in those perfect minutes disappeared. Zexion's eyes widened momentarily before they narrowed accusingly.
"What?" He'd bitten out, uncurling his fingers from Demyx's winter jacket and letting his hands fall limply to his sides. "Why not?" In a matter of seconds, his voice had increased to an uncharacteristic volume that was borderline on shouting.
The guilt that flooded Demyx was easy to see. His gaze darted away and then back to Zexion's unrelenting one, his eyebrows knotted together in his unease. "I'm just not brave enough. I hate conflict- you know that!"
"I know that." Zexion agreed stiffly, ignoring the building lump in his throat. "That doesn't explain why we can't make this work."
"Because…" Demyx was feeling worse by the second, his movements becoming shaky and his voice more desperate. "Because we're both guys, Zexion. Two guys just don't get treated nicely by this stupid society."
Fiery anger exploded in Zexion, his hands curling into fists. He stepped back from Demyx, breaking out of his gentle hold. "So? Fuck society! This is about us, who cares what they think?" He remembered the way the defiance had built up in him so strongly, his refusal to believe what Demyx was saying.
"I do." Demyx whispered in reply, eyes downcast once more. Shame written in his eyes, he leaned towards Zexion for a kiss, of sympathy and apology, but the dark-haired boy simply backed away, stepping out of the partial shelter of the bus stop and into the rain.
"I didn't think you would." He felt let down, the uncomfortable weight of this truth crashing down on his shoulders. Head drooping, he stared miserably at the puddles he stood in, his damp bangs covering his eyes. They were alone with their own racing minds despite standing within five metres of each other and the atmosphere was suffocating. Until the bus came and Zexion left, Demyx's eyes never left him and they both stood in silence, heartfelt, unspoken words passing between them.
I'm sorry.
You're not who I thought you were.
I never lied. I still want you. I can't be with you but I still love you.
That's not enough.
Zexion snapped back to the real world with an almost painful speed. One minute, he was wrapped up in a whirlwind of negative memories and the next; he was alone on an empty school's roof, with the night wrapped around him instead.
The darkness; he liked it. It was the soothing caress that no friend, family member or lover could give him and it felt good against his skin. It fit him, he thought. While some may view the darkness as cold, harsh and unfamiliar, to Zexion, it was like going home. It was warm, forgiving and accepting. He could fall into it if he wished to… and tonight, he would.
Zexion hadn't said goodbye.
Not to his overstressed father, his alcoholic and neglectful mother, his drug addict friends and most certainly not to the reason for most of this: Demyx. It would be easier if no-one knew until it was too late.
The cold wind whistled persistently through his slate-coloured spikes and licked at his skin and sent a chill through his baggy black jacket and straight into his bones. With sure, steady steps despite the dulled but fast thrumming of his heart in his chest, the teenager approached the ledge of the tall building. One small step up later, and he was standing calmly with the toes of his scuffed-up Converse sticking out over the edge of the building.
Lights glittered from buildings all around and below him, soothing and freshening at the same time. They woke up Zexion's mind but made him want to fall asleep in their glow, to fall into them, past them and into the darkness at the very end of the journey.
He wasn't sure that he liked this sense of calm that he had; the small, dark weight on his chest. In his mind, he had always thought that when this day came, when he got up to the top of the building, his breathing would change and his chest would heave, his fingers would shake and his mind would crumble. Now, he was almost disappointed. Sometimes, he was torn between believing that his life was nothing important and that his death would be welcomed by all because it simply did not matter to anyone… and believing that everyone would care- should care, and cry when it all came to an end.
As he stood, seconds away from throwing his life away, it was the former that he felt, and whilst this encouraged his actions, it also made them feel a little pointless. Zexion snorted at these stupid thoughts, turning his attention back to the world below him.
He was lost, to his own universe, and it a few moments- it would all be over.
But then his phone rang in the pocket of his baggy black jeans. It startled him, but unfortunately the little jolt of surprise wasn't enough to send him sailing over the ledge. Instinctively, his hand slowly moved down to withdraw the phone from its usual resting place. Though he had actively meant to ignore it, his mind objected to the annoyingly loud ringtone blaring from the device and had ordered his body to respond to the new noise. Thumb pressing down on the 'Accept' button, Zexion brought the phone up to his ear and silently waited.
"Zexion?" Axel's voice was questioning on the other end.
After a moment, Zexion replied, monotonous and automatic. "What?"
"Where the hell are you, man? The sound quality is awful- you at the side of a road or something?" Good point, Zexion realised. He was surprised that he even had signal, up so high.
"Sort of." He answered, gaze trained on the city beneath him and those promising yellow and amber lights.
There was a pause. "So, where are you then?"
Zexion's mind whirred hectically to find a suitable reply. After a few seconds of near-panic, he settled on telling Axel the truth. He didn't see a reason not to- by the time Axel got up there, it would be too late and Zexion already have crashed into the darkness. It wouldn't hurt to say goodbye… "I'm on the school's roof."
Murmured voices on the other end, Axel talking in a hushed tone to someone else, who Zexion assumed was Roxas. "Erm, what're you doing up there?" Axel finally spoke.
The cold made his throat tight and his tongue felt too big for his dry mouth, but Zexion's chapped lips somehow managed to form the words. "I'm going to jump."
Axel let out a nervous, disbelieving little laugh. "Sorry, what?"
"I'm going to jump." Zexion repeated, shifting the phone a little against his cheek, feeling the warm metal pressing into his skin.
"You- shit, what? Are you serious?" Axel's worry was shining through, climbing higher to hysteria with every word.
Zexion's lips curled into a small, sardonic smirk. He muttered bitterly, "Deathly."
"Oh, fuck! Shit, erm, don't do anything! Just stay there! Don't move! Me- me and Roxas are less than a block away- just by that stupid little park." His voice broke then, cracking as he hastily called something to Roxas. Through the blurry noises of traffic in the distance, the sounds of two pairs of feet beating against the pavement became known, indicating that Axel and Roxas had broken into a run, Axel's breaths becoming louder into the receiver. "Please, Zexion, just wait for us! Please don't do anything s-stupid!"
Emotionlessly, Zexion let out a small sigh. "This is the smartest idea I've ever had, actually."
Ignoring Axel's high-pitched sound of frustration and concern, Zexion abruptly ended the call, sliding his phone back into his pocket. A few of his personal possessions may as well go down with him.
With all distractions and interruptions gone, the teenager knew he had little time to act. He'd have to be fast, now, get it over and done with before any more complications turned up. That little phone call had sobered up his mood a little and his weak heart started smashing against his ribcage. Steadying himself, he prepared to let go and jump. His phone piped up in his pocket again, ringing endlessly as Axel tried to get in touch again. Zexion simply ignored it.
This is what he had been waiting for so long for, what he'd dreamed about and ached for all these empty, dead months.
But here's the punch line- as if Axel's pleading words were in fact an ancient, powerful spell, Zexion couldn't move. He was frozen in place, his arms pinned to his side and his knees locked. It made no sense and his eyes squeezed tightly shut as he urged his body to comply with his wishes.
It was no use, something in his fucked up brain was stopping him. Tears started forming in his eyes as his efforts increased. Holding his breath, he curled his fingers into fists and jerked forwards a millimetre, trying to move.
"Please…" He murmured, voice tight with desperation. "Please…"
But it was no use, and he stayed bound to his spot. For almost five minutes he stood that way, pathetic and suffering from an intense internal struggle of his mind and spirit against his goddamn rebellious body. He cursed his fucking survival instincts, letting out a strangled cry of frustration as he tried in vain, again, to throw himself over the ledge. His phone was ringing mockingly all the while.
Then the sounds of footsteps arrived over the howling wind, the phone stopping its incessant chiming and Zexion turned to look over his shoulder, the formed tears sliding down his cheeks. Axel was running over to him, over the dimly lit roof, and his own eyes were shining with fear. He had Roxas in tow, who wore an equally terrified expression as they hurtled towards their friend.
"Zexion!" Axel screamed, coming to a slow halt right beside his friend. His pale hands were shaking as they grabbed for the shorter boy's hands, tugging backwards.
Zexion was glad to discover that being frozen included an inability to fall back onto the roof, too. If he weren't so disappointed and angry, he would have breathed a sigh of relief.
He remained stationary and silent, as Axel and Roxas grabbed at him, their faces flushed with fear and their lungs burning in their chests as they yelled at him… Pleading words, promises, apologies- though they had no idea what they were apologising for- and it was all so meaningless, so Zexion still couldn't move.
The darkness still looked so inviting and it wasn't too hard to blank out Axel and Roxas behind him, though Axel was starting to cry now, sniffing and choking on his sobs as he desperately clung to Zexion's back. With a sharp, strong tug, they brought Zexion off the ledge and they all toppled to the floor, ignoring the ache of impact and writhing around as a tangle of limbs.
However, Zexion's mind was on only one thing. Pushing himself free of the tight hold Roxas and Axel had him in, he crawled over to the ledge and threw a leg over it, meaning to push himself over it and off the other side.
Strong hands grasped his shoulders but made no move to pull him backwards. Roxas was screaming now, too, tears lighting up his bright blue eyes- they were all crying and it was pathetic but none of them cared about anything except whether or not Zexion would die tonight, as he wished to. Swallowing the lump in his throat, the distraught, suicidal teenager bent his head and tried to shrug off the hands on his shoulders. The grip remained.
"Axel, let me go!" He shouted, blunt fingernails scratching at the stone ledge he was half-laying on. "Fuck, just let me go! I want to do this! Let me do it!"
"No. I'm not fucking letting go. You're not leaving me." The person who spoke was calm but their voice was strained, as if they were fighting back an onslaught of hysteria, panic and emotion. It most certainly wasn't Axel, or even Roxas.
Zexion froze, stopping his struggles and choking on the next word to leave his lips. "Demyx?"
His entire body went lax, for no reason that he could explain, and then he was pulled backwards by arms looped under his own, pulled far away from the ledge and he collapsed in the arms of the boy who held him. Head bowed and tears still falling down his cold-bitten cheeks, Zexion felt weak and vulnerable, stomach and heart like lead behind his ribcage. All the strength had left him but that didn't matter because now Demyx was clutching him tightly against his chest and it was everything he wanted but everything he hated and nothing else mattered because he had failed. And he was still breathing, and he was such a fuck up, that he'd even messed up his own suicide.
Raising tired, blurry eyes, Zexion saw Roxas kneeling on the patio floor of the roof, Axel bracing himself against his boyfriend and trying to regain his senses as he cried into the younger boy's shoulder. Roxas' shaking hands were trailing through Axel's fire truck-red spikes, his shaking voice whispering small comforts into the sobbing boy's ear. Guilt washed over Zexion, along with the other, painful emotions crashing through him.
He felt something in the dark blue mess that was his hair and it took him a few slow moments to realise that it was Demyx's chin resting atop his head.
"How could you be so selfish?" The older boy whispered, and it may have been the wind that made his voice sound more harsh and biting, or it could have been the fire in his aqua eyes when Zexion pulled away from his chest to peer up at him. "I-it's a good thing that Axel called me when he did. If I'd l-lost you…" Demyx's pearly white teeth were chattering and they both knew it wasn't simply from the cold.
Zexion was silent, every part of his body screaming for some other ending that this- or rather, for any kind of ending at all. Because this was not how things were supposed to go. He was not supposed to be being supported by Demyx as his shaky legs carried him back into the school building so that they could leave. It wasn't part of his plan to listen to Axel and Roxas' sniffling as he walked in front of them, wrist being loosely held by a livid Demyx- he wasn't supposed to be around to experience their guilt, anger, confusion, hurt and tears because he was supposed to be dead.
Bones aching like he had survived a car crash rather than a near-suicide, Zexion allowed himself to be dragged to the second-hand car that Demyx had recently acquired. He was so proud of it, despite the many scratches and marks that covered its dark blue paint. Like deadweight, he was piled into the passenger seat, the door slammed firmly after him. The fight had left him- he didn't feel like making a break for it, maybe throwing himself in front of a speeding car or finding some other height to fling himself from. No, he didn't feel at all right now.
Through the window and the darkness of the night, Zexion could see Roxas staring at him, with cold, blue eyes. Roxas was the youngest in their group, and the most sheltered. It wouldn't surprise Zexion if he'd seriously screwed Roxas up a bit. He waited for the guilt, watching his youngest friend running a hand through his swirly blonde spikes and giving a tired sigh. They were talking about him, their eyes occasionally darting back to him to check that he was still where they left him.
He couldn't hear anything more than their muffled voices, but a few minutes later, Axel and Roxas wandered off, walking unsteadily down the sidewalk with their arms tightly around each other. Demyx walked to the other side of the car and slid into the driver's seat. The air was cold but not as cold as the air up on the roof, and considerably calmer. Silence filled the small car and it hurt.
Demyx made no move to start up the car, the keys lying loosely in his unmoving hands. The older teen kept his blue eyes trained on the car in front of them on the sidewalk, jaw tight and body stiff. It almost became too much, the shame and hurt that radiated from the blonde. Zexion shifted uncomfortably in his seat, curling up on the chair and swivelling round to press his cheek against the cold glass of the window.
"You gonna say something?" Demyx asked.
Zexion's only response at first was to glance over his hunched up shoulder at the other boy. So much emotion had entered his eyes, blonde eyebrows drawn up with his pain and his lower lip nearly trembling. Letting his grey eyes flutter closed, Zexion gently pushed the guilt away.
"There's nothing to say." He croaked, crossing his arms over his chest to hide himself and turning back to the window.
It was a mean thing to say, and Zexion knew it but he didn't want to care- so he didn't.
"Nothing to say?" Demyx exploded with disbelief. "You were going to kill yourself! What the hell has happened to you?"
"You." Zexion snapped, scowling at the window.
Demyx's head fell dejectedly, his grip on the keys tightening. "Thanks, Zexion. Thanks a lot."
Ignoring the shiver of guilt that he was becoming quickly familiar with, Zexion held his tone. "No problem." He replied evenly. "Take me home."
Though he knew that Demyx was furious, he was surprised when the blonde angrily stabbed the key into the ignition and the car swerved out of its space and onto the main road. The older boy wasn't driving carefully like he usually did, and Zexion's hand curled around the handle on the passenger door, gripping it tightly so that he could steady himself as the car sped around corners and along roads.
When they finally pulled up, it took Zexion's weary mind a few seconds to realise that they were not parked outside of his house. Wordlessly, Demyx unclipped his seatbelt and threw himself out of the car, walking round to Zexion's side and flinging open the door. Zexion stared up at the angry blonde with a blank stare. Frowning, Demyx reached over the smaller boy and unclipped his seatbelt before tugging him up and out of the car. The door slammed shut and the sound was much too loud for the eerily silent night. It wasn't too late, only about ten o'clock, Zexion figured, but the streets were empty.
Despite the lack of streetlights and the fact that he couldn't see where he was going, Zexion somehow identified the building before them as Demyx's house. He lived with his parents in a semi-detached house on a street corner. It was small, but it was comfortable and maybe preferable to his own empty house right now. His parents were away on some weekend trip to some distant relative. That was precisely why Zexion had planned his suicide for that night.
Throwing a look over his shoulder to check that Zexion was scuffling behind him, following him, Demyx unlocked his front door and held it open for the younger boy. Once inside, Zexion stood awkwardly, eyes darting round the room nervously, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his hoody. The chill of outside still clung to his bones and the low heat in the car had done nothing to warm him up.
Light spread across the cramped hallway as Demyx flicked on a table lamp. Setting his keys down on the pinewood table, he turned to Zexion and flung his arms out in a tired, questioning gesture.
"I don't know what to say." He said, pushing the heels of his hands into his eyes to force off a pulsing headache. Taking them away, he looked at Zexion intensely with bleary eyes.
Dropping his gaze to the linoleum floor, Zexion shrugged.
Lingering a second longer, Demyx's brow creased in an uncharacteristic frown before he turned and headed into the kitchen at the back of the house. Hesitantly, Zexion assumed he should be following and reluctantly, he did.
Movements slowed down by his emotional exhaustion, the blonde filled the kettle with water and put it on. As he waited for the water to boil, he turned around and leaned back against the mottled green countertop, an a hand on either side of him. "Tea, coffee or hot chocolate?"
Standing awkwardly in the doorframe, Zexion bowed his head. "Nothing, thanks."
"You're having something." Demyx's tone was patient but firm. "Pick one."
Irritation sparked in the slate-haired boy and his gaze flickered upwards like an angry flame. "I don't want anything.And I asked you to take me home."
"And I don't want to." Demyx retorted. "You're cold, you're shaken and you're not really okay right now- same goes for me. So you're having a warm drink and then we're going to bed."
Both teenagers were a little surprised by the growl that rolled in the back of Zexion's throat. He didn't really understand why he was so numb and empty before, up on the roof, but as soon as Demyx turned up, all serious and upset, everything got thrown out of whack again. He was here against his will and being treated like a child. It was aggravating but he couldn't bring himself to fight against it anymore- he was too tired.
As if symbolizing the built-up frustration being blown away in one quick second, the kettle chose that time to signal that it was done, the button popping upwards with a loud sound and the steam shooting out with a low whistle. With that simple interruption, all tension disappeared, dissipating like the steam from the boiled water.
After Demyx had fixed up two decaffeinated coffees, Zexion's being exactly the way he always liked it, despite the fact that they hadn't had a drink together for a few months now at least (trust Demyx to be the kind of sentimental fool who liked to remember the small, important details), the two headed upstairs.
"My parents are out." Demyx randomly informed his guest, once they were in his bedroom.
It was fairly large but full to the brim with stuff. A double bed sat in the centre of the wall adjacent to the window, the soft blue bedcovers crumpled but still comfortable-looking. Scattered over the floor was a mixture of clothes, notepads, forgotten sheets of music, books for college and the occasional food wrapper. Zexion, a usually tidy person, wrinkled his nose at the slight havoc but decided not to comment. Although it was a little messier than he remembered, it was still Demyx's room. They'd probably spent hours together in that room and Zexion had to admit that Demyx's house had at one point been a second home to him.
Demyx set the drinks down on his cluttered bedside table and put on the desk lamp next to it. When Zexion looked up from his tattered shoes, which he leant down to slowly push off, their eyes met and it was like that rainy day all over again. Because so many words were passing between them but then nothing at all was happening at the same time.
Breaking eye contact, Demyx's arms crossed over his torso and he reached down, curling his fingers around the hem of his T-shirt so he could pull it up and over his head. The other boy watched, entranced as smooth golden flesh was revealed to him, inch by inch. The t-shirt joined the numerous other discarded clothing items on the floor and once the black belt was unsnapped and removed, the baggy navy blue jeans followed. Demyx stood in only his black cotton boxers and if Zexion's heart existed anymore, if blood was actually circling his trembling body, he would have blushed.
Instead, he fumbled awkwardly with his oversized hoody, unmoving as Demyx ran hand through the spikes of his blonde mullet and clambered into the bed. Sitting up slightly, he stared expectantly at the younger boy.
"Aren't you getting in?" He asked, blatantly a little confused.
"I normally sleep on the floor when I stay over." Zexion said quietly, by way of explanation.
Lips tightening in an unreadable change of expression, Demyx got more comfortable beneath the covers, tugging them up to his chin and bringing his knees up.
"Well tonight you're sleeping in here with me. I'm not leaving you alone tonight, not when you're like this." The blonde's voice was strong despite the worried glint in his eyes as he spoke, the slight sense of insecurity shining through.
Narrowing his eyes, Zexion couldn't be bothered to argue. He grit his teeth slightly but immediately regretted it, hating the feeling of them grinding together like that.
"Can I change into something?"
Demyx shrugged. "I'm just in my boxers."
"I know," Zexion hissed, because even thinking about that fact made him slightly uncomfortable. "Can't I just borrow a t-shirt please?"
"Sure." Demyx agreed, taking note of Zexion's rising irritation. "Just grab one from the cupboard, if there's any in there."
After giving his instructions, he picked up his coffee and sipped at it quietly and the little sounds he made whilst drinking were the only noises to fill the room.
There was a massive azure band t-shirt in Demyx's wardrobe and Zexion chose that, undressing as quickly as he could and pulling the shirt over his head. He left his boxers on, removing his jeans and socks before sliding into the bed next to his host.
He ignored the cup of coffee that Demyx tried to hand to him, declining it with a small shake of his head. With a sigh, Demyx finished his own mug of drink and left his guest's on the table to go cold. Then he turned the light off and a soothing darkness washed over the room. Zexion bit back a small sound of relief. He liked knowing that Demyx wouldn't be able to see him clearly now, wouldn't be able to read his expression like he normally could because the only light in the room was coming in from the streetlights outside, that flickered and faded regularly.
They didn't speak to each other for a long time and Zexion eventually starting hoping that Demyx was asleep and he could be left alone with his thoughts once more.
Just as he was about to move, to sit up and maybe leave the room, Demyx broke the silence.
"I want to tell you that it's going to be okay," Demyx whispered, voice heavy with emotion and it sounded like he was on the brink of tears. "But I can't lie to you. I can't make another promise that I might break in the future."
Zexion stiffened, laying on his side, facing Demyx's bare back with the covers slipping down over their shoulders. After speaking, Demyx rolled over slowly so that they were facing each other. The blonde's face was painted with shadows but the little light available showed Zexion the way the older boy's dirty blonde eyebrows were drawn up with pain and how his heart was shining in his eyes like shattered, broken glass. Zexion's chest ached at the sight.
His lips parted to make a snide comment, to throw up his wall, his way of defence and destroy this feeling of vulnerability, but instead, his innermost feelings came tumbling out.
"You don't need to tell me that it'll be okay." His voice was hushed and he subconsciously edged closer to the boy he was sharing the bed with.
Demyx did the same and then his arm was around Zexion's slim shoulders, tugging them both close to each other, in the middle of the bed. They were impossibly close then, Demyx's body heat seeped through the material of Zexion's borrowed the shirt- the one that held the ever-familiar scent of its owner, comforting and warm to the wearer. Their faces were mere inches away and the tension was back in the air again but it wasn't difficult.
Instead, it felt like Demyx's heart was trying to break out of his chest and connect with Zexion's despite the small space between them. Their breaths mingled and their lips were so close to touching that Zexion was pretty sure he was close to shaking by now.
"I don't know what I'd do…" Demyx breathed, and the words were warm against Zexion's lips. "If I lost you, Zexion. I know we don't… see each other much anymore but you're still a part of my life, you know?"
That was when guilt started to prickle at the corners of Zexion's eyes in the form of tears. The sensation travelled through his body and the sharp needles pressed at his heart, sending small shoots of pain through the abused muscle.
"I know. But… I can't promise that I'm going to be okay either." He murmured, inching just the tiniest bit closer so that their lips brushed with each word.
"Can I help?" Demyx asked, voice holding his fear of rejection tightly. "Please say that I can…"
Demyx's warm hand slid up Zexion's neck and into his hair, massaging his scalp comfortingly. Not knowing what to say, the younger boy simply nodded in response and tilted his head upwards, feeling Demyx cradling it in his hands as Zexion kissed him lightly.
It was just a soft press of lips, a small reassurance and maybe, Zexion allowed himself to venture through the swirling thoughts in his mind, maybe it was a hint of a promise. The tiny little part of him that clung to the hope he had once abandoned lit up with happiness, with optimism and faith in the boy holding him close.
They didn't say goodnight because words were unneeded to them now. Instead, they shared another, deep, bittersweet kiss and fell asleep held loosely in each other's arms.
They didn't tell anyone about what had happened. It wasn't worth the hassle, they supposed. Axel and Roxas had gone round to Demyx's house the next day and an awkward silence had ensued as soon as the four all settled down in the living room. Axel and Roxas didn't know what to say, Demyx didn't know what he was allowed to say, to share, and the boy whose situation was in question didn't want to say anything. It was sort of depressing, the atmosphere between the boys because it just showed how far apart they had drifted from each other in the past few months.
Zexion could feel their concern; it bit at his skin and deepened his guilt with each second of silence that passed. Eventually, Axel spoke, turning to Zexion and fixing him with one of his famous, intense gazes. He told the dark-haired boy that they'd always be there for him and no-one had to know about this because if the authorities found out then they'd just take poor Zexion away and lock him up in a white room with padded walls, and all the psychological tests and treatments would actually drive him insane anyway.
From then on, Zexion couldn't go a day without being checked upon by Demyx or Axel despite the fact that Roxas practically glued himself to his side. A year or two ago Zexion would have been glad for all the attention. Now, it was unwanted and the ever-constant presence of his 'friends' was just incredibly annoying. He was sick of not even being able to go to the bathroom or school canteen without someone at his heels.
Sighing into the cold winter air, he shoved his hands into his coat pockets and watched as his breath curled away into the sky, like smoke. Under his breath, he cursed himself for forgetting his gloves. Christmas was nearly here and there was only a day left of school. Yet for some reason, he still couldn't remember to dress appropriately. Of course, Demyx fussed over his careless friend non-stop, worried about his 'state of undress' and how he would 'freeze to death in this weather'. With a bitter sense of humor, Zexion would always smirk coldly and remark that freezing to death wouldn't exactly be unwelcomed.
Each time those finalistic words left his lips, Demyx's aqua eyes would become sad, darkened by guilt and he'd avert them from his friend's with a non-committal murmur.
That heavy look would always make the dried-up, black heart in Zexion's chest would give a little twinge that heightened in pain intensity every time he had to see Demyx's heart break like that. Things seemed to have done a full 180 since the night of Zexion's attempted jump. That sweet change in their relationship had disappeared, and while they actually talked to each other now, Zexion's mood was getting worse and Demyx always ended up taking the brunt of it.
Said guilt-ridden and guilt-causing blonde boy was walking beside Zexion on the empty pavement, shifting closer to him with each step. Demyx too had his hands in his pockets, the rubber soles of his Vans dragging against the ground. A teal scarf was wrapped around his neck and tucked down the front of his navy jacket. Even with this, his cheeks were flushed pink and he looked so vulnerable that the dark-haired boy almost closed the gap between the two of them to maybe slide an arm over the other teenager's shoulders or around his waist. Anything to bring them closer together and make that miserable look in his friend's eyes disappear.
"Will you come back to my house?" The blonde asked, and it was a simple question on the surface but if the person it was directed at listened harder then it was easy to hear the pleading undertone, the gentle plea for him to agree.
Zexion frowned at the wet, grey pavement beneath his feet through his blue-tinted fringe. Luckily, his hair let this little change in expression be hidden from the observant boy walking next to him.
"Okay," Zexion agreed, quietly. "If you want me to."
"I do." Demyx nodded. "I really do." Zexion nodded too, in reply, and tried to steel himself against the soft, relieved smile that let Demyx's eyes form little arcs and caused his pink lips to curve upwards sweetly.
Feeling the December winds pick up, Zexion squeezed his own eyes tightly shut against the cold and pushed his hands deeper into his pockets, with no result.
The rest of the walk continued in silence, the two of them continuing on straight past the bus stop that Zexion usually took the bus from. They purposely ignored the place and the memories that it dredged up of the first day that they told each other that they loved each other and then fell apart.
Ten minutes or so later, they reached Demyx's house and after he went ahead to open the door, struggling to get the key in the lock with his fingers numbed by cold, the two young men shuffled inside. Immediately, Zexion was grateful for the embrace of the warmth.
Turning to his guest, Demyx shut the door and the two hung their coats up, dumping their schoolbags by the front door before heading through the house. Demyx went through the usual, typical routine of offering his friend a drink or something to eat and said friend refusing, and then following him up the stairs and into his room.
The boys settled down on the bed, the younger perching on edge of the mattress and the older resting against the headboard, his thick blue duvet and his knees brought up to his chest. Zexion could feel the unspoken words circling in Demyx's mind. There was something the blonde wanted to say but he wasn't opening his mouth to let his guest know what it was. Instead, they sat quietly for almost five minutes until Zexion leaned back, resting on one arm and turning to the quiet boy.
"What's up?" The dark-haired teen asked, raising his own grey eyes to his friend's blue and watching as they widened marginally with surprise at Zexion's willingness to initiate conversation.
Over the past few days, Zexion had become even more introverted than before and it had become almost impossible for anyone other than Demyx to drag a few words out of him, at most. His parents grew confused, finally realising that not everything was all peachy and right with their only son. Still, his father didn't pay attention to this newfound problem because work was more important and his mother was too busy drinking herself into a drunken stupor to care. It's not like the neglect bothered Zexion anyway- he was used to not receiving any attention.
"Just thinking." Demyx muttered, shifting the covers in his lap.
Zexion allowed himself a hint of a smile. Since he hadn't smiled in such a long time, the action made his lips feel stiff, like they had forgotten how to tilt upwards with amusement or happiness.
"Don't try too hard, Dem, your brain's not used to it." Even the humor in his voice was slightly strained, foreign to his entire body.
For a moment, Demyx's eyes were wider than saucers, his surprise evident on his face. Zexion cracking a joke was something that both had thought impossible in the recent months. At the realisation that maybe, just maybe, Demyx was helping Zexion become himself again, the blonde's face lit up, a happy smile brightening the mood.
Relieved expression still on his lips and in his eyes, Demyx pushed the heavy duvet off of him and clambered to his knees, crawling over the mattress over to Zexion. He lifted his hands and laid them gently on Zexion's shoulders, tugging lightly to bring the shorter boy leaning further backwards towards him. The thin, silver chain on Demyx's wrist and the 'IX' charm hanging from it caught Zexion's eye and thus distracted him from how close Demyx was getting to him.
"I gave you that…" He noted, twisting around to lightly trace the fingertips of the hand he wasn't leaning on over the cool metal of the accessory. Nine was Demyx's favourite number and it was just a little something that Zexion had come across and decided to get his friend as a spontaneous gift.
"Yeah." Demyx confirmed off-handedly, as if he were focused on something else. When Zexion looked up from Demyx's wrist, his breath caught in his throat when he saw how close they were to each other. Demyx leaned even closer and removed one of his hands from the younger boy's shoulder in favour of pressing it lightly against his cheek. "There's that smile that I remember."
In Zexion's mind, he knew that it wasn't true. He could feel it himself, the difference of his old self's smile- as hard as it was to remember- and the smile that was so hesitantly gracing his lips at that moment. Trying to stay as still as possible, Zexion let Demyx gently run a thumb over his lower lip, tracing the smile that faintly lingered there.
"There's the Zexion that I know." Demyx whispered, voice tinted with a loving warmth. It made Zexion's pale skin tingle wherever Demyx touched. Their eyes met directly and as they did, the relaxed sparkle in Demyx's seemed to fade away, being replaced with a more serious light. "Isn't it?"
While it may have seemed like a harmless enough question, Zexion knew just how serious it really was. Though, just because he could feel the weight behind it, didn't make it any easier for his mind to form a satisfying answer.
"I don't know." He replied honestly. His gaze and the fingers that rested on his friend's bracelet dropped to the bedspread on which the two sat.
Though his response was truthful, it was obvious that it wasn't exactly what Demyx wanted to hear. Still, he leaned forwards even more so that he could rest his forehead against Zexion's.
"It is, I know it is. Trust me." He said, and he sounded so sure and his voice was so strong that Zexion was finding it hard not to believe him.
He changed the subject anyway, turning it back to Demyx's mood and not his own. "What were you thinking about?"
After a moment of silent thought, Demyx tilted his head slightly to the side, peering down intently into Zexion's eyes.
"Just you." His answer was said so nonchalantly, Zexion knew that Demyx was skirting around the issue. He decided not to press it, though.
Before Zexion knew what was happening, Demyx had swooped down and then they were kissing. It was soft and gentle, hesitant but sweet as their lips moved against each other. It felt like that first real kiss- the first sober one, that took place in the rain by the bus stop- but Zexion refused to connect the two kisses because this meant more. This was familiar and like coming home, in the sense of comfort it provided, but it was still exciting because the emotion was raw and much more powerful than what they shared the first time.
As Demyx's confidence grew, the hand still resting Zexion's shoulder slipped around to the back of his neck, fingertips grazing over the short, blue-grey hair at the base of his head. In return, Zexion leaned into the older boy, pushing against him with a rising urgency. Allowing the shorter boy to insist silently on changing positions, Demyx moved his legs out from underneath himself so that he was sitting on the bed with a hand on Zexion's neck, pulling the other boy towards him and between his legs.
They moved up the bed, pressed impossibly close together, hands roaming and tongues slipping out to explore and bodies quickly building up a craving for more skin on skin, more contact and more comfort from each other.
As their desperation grew, their movements grew more bold, minds running less on logical thought process and more on pure emotion and instinct, on what felt good and what they wanted more of.
Demyx's hands slipped under Zexion's hooded jacket and thin black t-shirt, spreading heat over the younger boy's back and bringing more of that infuriatingly pleasant tingle to his skin wherever it was touched. Growing impatient, his wandering hands moved round to the front of the jacket, the fingers of one curling in the fleecy material and the others working on jerking the zip down. Eventually, Zexion's jacket was undone and discarded of, thrown to some unnoted corner of the room, joining the thousands of other clothes dotted over the carpet.
Shifting atop Demyx, Zexion bucked his hips downwards, shivering at the feeling of Demyx's own hard length against his through the thick black material of their school trousers. Demyx gasped into Zexion's mouth, their inter-twined tongues sliding against each other, wet, warm and sensual as they desperately started grinding against each other, despite the awkwardness of the position.
When the heat and the lust became too much, boiling his blood and making his skin flushed, Zexion's shaking hands trailed over Demyx's chest, fingers unsteadily unclasping the top five buttons. It wasn't long before he lost all his patience and hooked his fingers under the shirt at the bottom and tugged it, with some difficulty, up and over Demyx's head. All the while, his lips burned at the absence of the other pair they had come to love so much.
Lying beneath Zexion, Demyx had the advantage of balance as he hurried to undo the buttons on the other boy's shirt, his hips pushing upwards with increasing urgency. Feeling a spark of mischief, Zexion smirked slightly and gave a particularly harsh thrust downwards, heightening the friction and causing Demyx's head to drop backwards. His kiss-reddened, luscious lips parted and a loud, erotic moan spilled out, his hands gripping the white material of Zexion's shirt, which he had succeeded in opening.
At the sudden increase in volume, Zexion fought the heaving of his chest, struggling to regain his breath and get the words out.
"Your parents home?" He panted, slipping his shirt off over his shoulders and resting his head in the crook of his partner's neck in order to take control of his breathing again.
Head tilting back down again, Demyx squeezed his eyes shut tightly with pleasure, tiny tears beading on his thick, dark eyelashes from the sensations rushing through his body. Swallowing hard, he bit down on his lower lip, shaking his head slightly.
"Not for… another hour." He groaned loudly again as Zexion ground his hips down harder, clearly pleased with Demyx's response.
Though an hour sounded like a long time to the lust-clouded minds of the two boys, Zexion somehow came to realise that it wasn't long at all. So he kissed Demyx hard, with renewed vigour as he crashed back down against the other boy, their bare chests pressing against each other.
While he was absorbed in deepening the kiss and drawing more sweet moans from Demyx, the other boy was more concerned with undoing Zexion's trousers and diving his hand inside. Zexion froze, the reality of the situation washing over him as Demyx's hot hand cupped his erection, fingers wrapping around his length and giving a teasing tug.
He shuddered, mind going momentarily blank as pleasure rushed through him. Wriggling his hips, he bucked into Demyx's touch while simultaneously trying to get his trousers off. Seeming to catch drift of what the other boy wanted to do, Demyx used his other hand to push Zexion's trousers over his hips, followed by his boxers.
Eventually, Zexion was completely naked, moving quickly against the boy beneath him while his own hands hurried to get Demyx into a similar state of undress. Once they were both nude, they couldn't stop their eyes from dropping downwards to between their heated bodies.
Whilst they both tried to gain control over their uneven breathing, Demyx's face flushed even further before a hint of a smirk pulled at his lips.
"You done this before?" He smiled, running his fingers lightly over Zexion's length in a faux absentminded way.
Face scrunching up with the pleasure, Zexion managed to shake his head. "No," he breathed. "But I know how it's done."
"That's good, because I've never done this either." Then Demyx arched a golden brow in question. "How do you know how to do it though?"
"When Axel's drunk, he never shuts up about Roxas and everything they do together." There was a hint of amusement in the complaining tone and after a moment's pause as the comment sank in, Demyx's head dropped down as he struggled to contain his laughter.
"Pervert." He snickered. "Why were you listening?"
Shrugging, Zexion leaned down and put his lips close to the chuckling boy's ear.
"Because I thought it might come in handy." The mood switched back to sensual in an instant as his lips brushed along the older boy's cheek. "And clearly it's a good thing I did."
Shivering at the intimate touch, Demyx nodded slowly. Instead of answering vocally, he looked up at the younger boy and there was so much heat and intensity in the look that Zexion could feel all the walls he'd built up around himself these past few months just melting. It was then that the odd sensation of vulnerability washed over him like a wave and nervousness was soon added to the equation.
He swallowed his fear, acting quickly by rocking his hips downwards to dispense the tension that was sure to settle in if they hesitated. Demyx let out a breathy moan at the intoxicating feeling of his bare length against Zexion's, the feeling of hot skin against hot skin overpowering him, his hands coming up to grip onto the shorter boy's shoulders tightly.
Bucking his hips in rhythmic, maddeningly slow movements, Zexion fought to keep a clear mind for just a few minutes longer.
"Ngh… Have you… got anything w-we can use as lube?" He gasped out, clamping his teeth down on his lower lip to prevent the question from turning into a loud moan of Demyx's name.
"I don't know…" Demyx smiled apologetically but after a particularly harsh thrust of his own hips, the expression threatened to melt into one much more revealing of his pleasure. "There's probably some… some hand lotion or some shit like that in the bedside table."
Raising a dark, elegant eyebrow, Zexion blindly reached out for the bedside table, awkwardly managing to yank the top draw open and start to look for something that could substitute the needed lube.
"Hand lotion?" Zexion's lips quirked up at the corners as his hand curled around a tube that he assumed held the lotion.
"I'm a musician, what can I say?" Demyx's speech was considerably more coherent now, despite the fact that the pressure he was applying was unrelenting. "What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing." The dark-haired boy replied carefully. He held back a snigger as his kiss-reddened lips formed a reply. "Just makes you seem really gay."
Jutting his lower lip out in a slight pout, Demyx responded firstly by pushing his hips down hard, almost punishingly so.
"Which I am, luckily for you. Now stop teasing me and let me help you." The blonde's voice dropped a few octaves towards the end of his retort, confidently reaching up and wrapping his warm hand around the younger boy's erection.
Releasing a shuddering breath, Zexion fought to keep himself under control. As he valiantly resisted the urge to buck into the hot hand wrapped around him, he hastily worked to open the lotion and squeeze a generous amount onto his hands. He was almost shaking by then, shuddering as he reached down, knocking Demyx's hands away from him and curling his own hand around the blonde's straining erection.
Demyx's pink lips formed a murmured rush of Zexion's name, near-silent beneath the loud sounds of their breathing. Pumping his fist at varying pressures and succeeding in driving the blonde crazy, Zexion then squeezed out more of the lotion and somehow, awkwardly managed to lie back on the bed, leaving Demyx highly aroused and equally confused.
"What… are you doing?" He quirked up an eyebrow but the intelligent expression was lost to the pretty flush spread across his cheeks.
Even though he was resting back on one elbow, Zexion still shrugged. His other hand slid down over his torso, coming to a halt at his arousal. Teasingly, one slick finger ran down his manhood before venturing further and lightly tracing his entrance. Letting his eyes slip closed to maintain this relaxed feeling, Zexion slowly slid one finger inside of himself.
His body automatically tensed up at the intrusion but he carried on anyway, moving evenly. When he added another finger, he grit his teeth against the slight twinge of pain but he overcame it almost instantly as the sound of Demyx gasping reached his ears. Eyes fluttering open, he looked up to see Demyx watching intently, teal eyes shining.
Allowing his lips to quirk up in a cocky smirk, Zexion continued preparing himself slowly until he practically felt Demyx's restraint break down as he released a loud groan. At that one sound, something snapped inside Zexion. At first, it was hard for him to pinpoint exactly what it was within him that had changed. Everything had felt fine before- but just then, at the erotic whine spilling from Demyx's throat, he realised that there had been a distinct lack of confidence within him.
He had been unsure; unconvinced, doubtful of Demyx's intentions. Zexion had wanted Demyx for a long time, but even when he had been so sure that Demyx returned his feelings, he had still been let down. That, he shortly concluded, explained the hesitation that had still been holding onto him up until that moment.
"Come onnnn!" The blonde whined, getting onto all fours and crawling down the bed until he was resting against the smaller boy. "Please, Zexion."
The pressure was already building up within Zexion and realising this, he gave a jerky nod and reached out for the boy above him, gripping him by the shoulders and tugging him closer. Casting a brief look down at their bodies, hot and pressed tightly against each other, Demyx fixed Zexion with a piercing, scorching gaze and rested himself on one arm, the other hand taking a hold of his slick member and positioning the tip at the other boy's prepared entrance.
"Ready?" He breathed, and received another jerky nod in response. Returning the gesture, Demyx nodded himself, as if to instil some confidence into both of them.
He shifted hips forward and entered the dark-haired boy. Immediately, sparks flew through his body, his eyes squeezing shut tightly at the onslaught of pleasure. Zexion breathed in deeply and waited out the pain; it was fading quickly because Demyx was somehow controlling himself.
"Ready now." Zexion hissed as Demyx gently rocked his hips and pushed his length in deeper until he was fully sheathed.
At the murmur of consent, Demyx wasted no time. Though now they felt so comfortable around each other, beneath the kind words and close proximities was an unstable, forming bond of trust. Zexion had never been this close to someone before- mentally or physically. Now that this connection was coming to life, the physical aspect of their relationship securing the emotional- now, it was scary. He was yearning for what Demyx could give him through this life, but he'd spent so much time being miserable… he wasn't sure that he knew how to be happy anymore. His mind was clouded by a thick haze of lust and longing but the worry still lingered at the back of it, like tendrils of black smoke. Trying to ignore it, he looked up into Demyx's face; scrunched up with pleasure and pearly white teeth clamped down on his bottom lip, he gave in to the feelings whirling through him and let himself go.
They moved together, bodies pressing into each other and friction building up with the rising pleasure. It was all about heat, skin against skin, roaming hands and breathy moans, their bodies joining together and souls melting into each other through their lips as they kissed heatedly.
Tongues sliding together as their bodies did, they built up a steady rhythm, hips jerking into each other with each angled thrust. Angling his hips differently each time, it didn't take long for Demyx to find the sweet spot inside of Zexion that sent fire raging through his veins.
Each spark of pleasure pushed him closer and closer to the edge. Not just closer to the edge of orgasm but to the edge of complete trust. Zexion couldn't help but hope that coming together like this would seal their relationship; would write them up as something more than friends. Even so, there was still that niggling paranoia that he would be dumped and left alone again as soon as this was all over.
His lips parted, guttural moans and groans leaving his mouth as Demyx sang along with his own sweet sounds, swallowing each noise that Zexion made. Fighting the selfish daze taking over him, he reached down and wrapped a hand around Zexion's weeping erection. As he pressed his thumb into the slit, collecting the beads of pre-cum, Zexion lost control and fell straight over the edge and into oblivion. The dark-haired boy let out a loud cry and arched upwards into the boy above him, feeling his seed shoot out in thick streams across their heated bodies. Demyx followed soon after, tensing up inside Zexion and coming inside of him.
They remained motionless for several seconds, save for the violent heaving of their chests. When they had almost regained control of their breathing, Demyx collapsed against Zexion, laying his cheek against the shorter boy's hot chest. They were both sweaty and smelled strongly of sex but neither cared because this closeness was just as important as that that the sex itself gave them.
A silence settled over the room once their breathing died down. It was soft at first but grew heavier and almost unbearable until Demyx let out a small noise of contentment, nuzzling the shorter boy's chest lightly with his nose.
"Clean up now?" He asked lazily, running his hands down Zexion's sides.
After a moment of thought, Zexion shook his head. "In a minute. Your parents will be back soon, right?"
"Yeah." Demyx confirmed, shifting atop Zexion so that his weight was more evenly distributed.
Sighing, the dark-haired boy gingerly tested his legs, drawing them up at the knees and ignoring the gentle ache in them because of how long they had been squeezing Demyx closer to him.
"Well, let's wait a while. I'm happy here."
Demyx looked up at Zexion at that, a bright smile on his lips. "So am I. I couldn't be happier, actually."
It was perfect, that moment. Sure, they'd have to get up and clean up soon, making themselves presentable for the unavoidable arrival of Demyx's parents, but for now… they could lie together and bask in the afterglow, still close and warm.
Searching his mind, with the aid of the clarity that was slowly returning to it, Zexion tried to find the right word to describe how being with Demyx made him feel. His eyes were drooping, fatigue washing over him. Maybe… just a little nap would be okay- Demyx would wake him up when he needed to. Finding the word again, he stained it into his memory and as exhaustion took over him, the perfect word was on the tip of his tongue.
"Light…"
And he fell asleep, leaving Demyx with a thousand ways to interpret what he said.
Nothing really changed in their lives… but they did make what they had official. All of their friends accepted them just fine, though Larxene was sometimes prone to making a snide comment and they did still receive the occasional push, shove or 'faggot' shouted at them when they walked through school holding hands with each other. It didn't bother them- they had each other and their friends- who cared what idiots said?
At first, Zexion had been worried that Demyx wouldn't hold out under the social pressure. Initially, it had been obvious that the blonde struggled with the publicity their relationship received… but Zexion's insecurities soon faded as the other boy relaxed.
Demyx wasn't magical (because no, that magic trick set was not real, it was just a Christmas present aimed at six-year-olds); he couldn't just fix everything in Zexion's pretty screwy life. Yet somehow, he made things more bearable. With the younger boy's overall improving mood, things were just turning out more positively. His grades picked up, his parents seemed to back off and he was able to appreciate his friends again.
But… he would be lying if he said he never thought 'What if?'… as in, what would have happened if Axel and Roxas didn't save him? What would have happened to everyone after he was gone? And in the moments of deeper depression… Did he still want to die? Months passed; Christmas came and went, a new year started and it was only in February that Zexion knew the answer to that question.
No, he didn't want to die. Because he had Demyx and Demyx was so bright- that at first, his entire body wasn't accustomed to it- but Demyx lit everything up with the sparkle in his teal eyes and he made everything heated with his warm kisses. Gradually, colour returned and everything was alright again.
Now that Demyx was in his life, he could be happy. And even if he did have his down moments, he could keep holding on… because Demyx was a part of the light… and Demyx was a part of him. For that reason, he would stay strong, because it would be emptier in the darkness.
Boo-yah! 24 pages on word. SHARNE, I AM SO SORRY THAT IT'S SO LATE! –shot- I just fail at being a friend, seriously. I'm sorry. I hope the length and the… Zemyx-ness makes up for it. Love you! –glomps-
This was so hard to write. D: I hope it doesn't fail as much as I do though.
-Connie