Chapter Summary: Zexion is one of the popular ones until he starts noticing Demyx. His attraction to another boy confuses him and he became more withdrawn and introspective.
Disclaimer: Kingdom Hearts is not owned by me nor am I making any profit off of this story. Any characters you recognize are a part of the Kingdom Hearts series.
He struts into the lunchroom, twirling drumsticks and bobbing his head to a beat only he can hear. His hair flops around his face and curls up around his collar, the usual Mohawk he sports lying flat today. He taps out a quick beat on the thick silver chain dangling from his front pocket, eyes restlessly scanning the lunchroom and passing right over you.
Your eyes track him though, unable to look away, stomach clenching as a smile lights up his face and he makes a beeline for the corner table. His friends all laugh, patting him on the back as he flops into a seat and grabs a hand of chips from the pile of food in the middle of the table, mouth moving all the while.
You jerk your eyes back to your own table, stomach in knots as your surrounding friends notice the direction of your gaze and call you out on it once again. "Three times this week? Careful man or somebody might think you're a faggot." Luxord sneers from your left, gaze directed at the small table as his stabs his food viciously. "Fucking freaks the lot of them."
Marluxia gives a mock offended snort, flipping his bright pink hair over one shoulder and everyone laughs. You say nothing, eyes on your plate and moving food around as the moment is broken and conversation resumes. Your eyes drift back to the corner.
You see him the next week in the hallway, sticks shoved into a back pocket almost carelessly. He's in a fighting stance, feet apart and shoulders thrown back, his hair looking more ruffled than normal and making him look like a proud lion. His arms are loosely crossed and he is watching the angry boy before him with an almost sardonic expression twisting his face, his eyes dark and hooded and for once he looks dangerous and your heart rate spikes in response.
Then your eyes take in the rest of the scene and your blood runs cold. The small, pale girl from his table in cowering behind him, an ugly bruise already showing on the arm she is cradling to her chest. Even from here you can see her red eyes and shiny cheeks, and you feel a blaze of anger run through you for whoever made her cry like that; hurt her like that. She stands between him and the wall and he stands between her and Saix.
You freeze in tentativeness for a moment; think about creeping back around the corner before you're noticed but it's too late. His eyes flick to you uncertainly, unsure if you are another enemy or an ally but that flicker caught Saix's attention and he turns to you as well. You gaze at him a moment longer, watch his eyes turn the color of wet grass in confusion and wish you could explain that you aren't sure which you are either.
"Zexion, just who I was hoping to see," Saix rasps with a small smile you catch as you turn to him. From the corner of your eye you watch the mystery boy move the girl a bit to the side, closer to the open hallway and you can watch his lips moving quickly.
You nod slowly, letting your hair slip over your eyes as you realize you are essentially trapped between your friend and the boy who has caught your attention so well. The small girl is creeping backwards now, edging along the lockers and towards freedom, wide blue eyes fixed on you and you fight to keep your eyes on Saix.
"Saix," you say finally, fingers toying with the sleeve of your jacket. The small girl is almost at the classroom door now, and you open your mouth to say something- anything- to keep his attention on you and away from her and that harsh purple bruise.
He turns around before you come up with anything and the brown haired boy moves, jamming a palm into his throat and tearing off down the hallway as Saix sinks to his knees, gasping. You stand in silence for a few seconds, watching him pant in between cursing and slapping the floor before you turn and walk away slowly.
The next day at lunch you sit with your head down, listening as Saix tells the entire table of what happened the day before. They are scoffing, casting disbelieving looks at you. "You all but defended them," Larxene says, jabbing her fork in your direction. "Are you a fag? Would explain it. They are the nothings of the nothing." You're at a loss, unable to say that you don't know why you like mystery boy so much but he didn't have a thing to do with yesterday.
Just that girl and that bruise that was as big as her arm and the utter unfairness of it all. You can't explain how you remember seeing that girl drawing and how good they were, and how now she won't be able to for a while and how that upsets you even if you don't know her name. Your mouth wont form the words.
They're all staring, waiting for your answer and you have none to give and your breath gets the slightest bit shorter. A soft cough and you all jerk your heads to the side and you know your mouth drops open. "Demyx," Marluxia purrs in that false-sweet way he has, and the name clicks into place and it fits him so well that you feel dizzy.
He ignores him and ignores the glares and mutters the table is throwing his way. His eyes find yours and he smiles slightly, eyes guarded. "Wanna eat with us?" You turn slightly to look behind him and see his table watching, the tall red head halfway out of his seat and looking fierce and the pale blond peeking from behind a curtain of hair.
The others fade when you see her, and you nod slightly and watch her lips turn up in response before turning back to the harsh arguing before you. Demyx is standing as proud as he was the other day, and you realize the carefree musician you watched walk into the lunchroom and down the hallways since freshmen year is only a part of him and you itch to know the others.
He is so much braver than you are, coming to a table of people who hate him and his friends for no reason other than that they can on nothing more than a hunch that you aren't like them. You could never be that brave, even if you want to go sit with him and the other "misfits" and see if he can play actual drums or just table tops and chains.
His eyes flicker to you again, and in that look is something that feels vaguely challenging among other things you don't know but it gives you enough courage to stand up so suddenly you have to steady yourself. The table falls silent, and behind the rushing blood you vaguely hear your name being called in a hesitant, unfamiliar kind of way even though you know the voice as Larxene.
That cocky half smile is back on and you realize you are a bit taller than him, and that his eyes change shades of green almost faster than you can keep up. "Zexion?" He asks with a jerk of his head towards his friends, and you think you could find enough courage to fill an ocean if he says your name like that forever. You nod, step forward, and you walk beside him to the corner table.
The students watch you in silence and you stare back, all unsure in this strange new world of broken status quos and uncertainty. The red head is watching you with obvious suspicion and the blond boy at his side is gnawing on his lip and glaring. A petite red head has her arms around the pale blond girl from yesterday, talking quietly to a boy with too much gel in his spiky hair.
Demyx is beside you, speaking softly to a boy with hair remarkably like yours and for just a moment you debate standing, saying it was a mistake and going back to unhappy comfort. Demyx nudges a bag of chips in your direction without even looking at you and you take one, eyes downcast and popping it into your mouth. You choke immediately; gulp it down on pure force of will as your eyes burn and your mouth stings.
You look around at the table and seven pairs of eyes stare back before everyone bursts into laughter and the boy with wild red hair claps you on the back. "Vile ain't it?" The kid-who-needs-to-put-down-the-gel asks in obvious amusement, and the quiet girl is giggling behind slender bruised fingers in obvious contrast to her red haired companions' infectious laughter.
You manage a smile that is more a scowl really and Demyx rests a hand on your shoulder. "Initiation you understand," he whispers hotly against your ear, and you swallow and feel your face burn and he just laughs softly in a knowing way, though that could just be your paranoid confusion talking.
He turns back to his conversation and so does everyone else but the air is lighter and less tense and he keeps his hand on your shoulder and you figure you could get use to this, though maybe you'll try to work on the blushing to stop the girls from laughing at you so obviously.
A/N: This idea came to me last night and is just going to be a little pet project of mine. It's going to be a darker series of one shots with them in school [I imagine it at a technical college but high school could also work] and deal with issues like bullying, coming to terms with your sexuality [as this chapter briefly touches on], eating disorders and abuse. Each chapter will deal with a different issue and a different couple, but they will all intertwine with each other.