Warnings: Necrophilia with a side of guro faggotry, hetrosexual porn and mentions of paedophilia.

A/N: Was written for the anon kink meme.
I may revisit this in a second part I might write for the hell of it (and because I want to play with that shota-Vexen replica) Critique me if you can, it's the only way I'll learn.
Some parts of this look like I was distracted by something shiny mid-sentence.
Also I dare people to try reading this while listening to the 'Mickey Mouse march' -better yet test your thinking capacity while listening to a mix of it and Rammstein's 'Mein Teil' on a loop for two hours

Edit: Formatting fixed

"Xigbar..." Vexen looked dubiously at other man, expecting some kind of explaination for the interruption to his work.
"C'mon Vex, you need to loosen up." Xigbar tangled his fingers in blond hair, trying to distract more than what his mere presence could.
"But"
"Just do it, don't act like you don't want to -besides you know I enjoy watching you work." Xigbar cut off the feeble protest
"Deadlines" Vexen finished
"She won't stay fresh forever; and that project is ahead of schedule."
Vexen paused for a second to consider. "...Fine, just let me finish this."
Vexen scribbled down the last few notes before turning back to the bench.

Vexen hissed slightly as he moved a hand over the 'gift'; before he touched it he pulled his hand away and gripped at the table; trying not to show how pleased he was with it.
"You've brought something a little more mature than your usual findings." Vexen regarded the 'gift' with a raised brow -it was rare for Xigbar to clean the girl up before bringing her in -even rarer that the cadaver so much as even looked slightly mature.
"Figured you might like some variety."

The deceased was a young woman; mid to late twenties -with long, soft, light brown hair still partially held back by a yellow ribbon. The body splayed in the unnatural way only corpses and the fatally wounded are -her skin is almost completely unmarred except for two wounds -one just below her collar bone and another across her acchilies tendon.
Such a pretty thing, plump breasts, well curved hips and proportioned waist. She's extremely fresh; been cleaned up and her clothes removed.
Vexen called bullshit,
"Because you're just so selfless like that. Now what do you want?"
Xigbar raised his hands and gave a tone of mock offense,
" Can't a guy be nice with being assumed he's up ta somethin'. Ya know, when you assume you make an ass out of you and me."
"People? Sometimes; nobodies? Very rarely; you? There is always a reason, so out with it."
"Okay, you caught me -I was just hoping to convince ya to let me play with one of your replicas. The little one, looks like you a few decades younger... Of course, if you don't want this I can always bring it to someone who'll appreciate it."

Vexen glared at Xigbar for a few seconds...
"...No damaging it, no killing it, no teaching it to swear; and you may have it in three days -one night only."
"You see, this is why I don't fuck you; I wouldn't feel a damn thing cause that stick up your ass is so big you'd be all stretched out"
Vexen shuddered,
" And the fact that not only am I considerably older than your usual game but would deep-freeze you if you so much as thought about it has nothing to do with it?"
"One of those. So, are you going to get to it -there's only so much time before rigor mortis sets in."

Vexen always set aside tools specifically for this, separated for convenience and hygiene; he only needed about half of them since Xigbar had been courteous this time. Usually Vexen had to clean the cadavers and remove their clothing -sometimes during the early stages of rigor mortis. Then again Xigbar usually brought in prepubescent girls and almost never fresh, since Xigbar didn't seem to understand the concept that Vexen might not mind being brought something alive or only just dead; let alone something in or past puberty.

Zexion would probably end up bitching about the smell no matter what Xigbar brought in -man couldn't stand the scent of the gore and the dead things without at least a mask; though ideally he'd prefer the use of a gas mask, a few dozen cans of air freshener, and a complete laboratory sanitation- but really, all of them were best fresh scent-wise and nearly every-other-wise you could care to think of. Entertainment wise it was still dead boring compared to a live one; if you would pardon the pun.
Dead girls didn't scream, didn't bleed (much), didn't pulse around you when you fucked them.
On the other hand, sometimes Vexen just wanted something to be quiet and take it -and sometimes dead girls were just so much prettier. With their pale skin, glassy eyes, and wounds they don't scream about till your ears bled- the lack of a pulse was sometimes a reasonable sacrifice.

Within the laboratories Vexen was always meticulously methodical -whether it was work or play- there was always a certain madness to his methodicity.
Vexen pulled on a set of thin, disposable latex gloves.
Even though Xigbar cleaned the girl, Vexen still washed the corpse with a cloth soaked in disinfectant and germicidal solutions.
Xigbar hung from the ceiling, observing the actions and getting in the way.
Vexen shoos him aside- rathering his attention completely riveted on his own actions -as the damp cloth swipes across pale skin he occasionally pauses to rub his growing erection against the bench.
He knows Xigbar's watching, but the uncomfortable sensation was shrugged off easily from years of practice.
The disinfectant is followed by a rinse of water as the harsh chemicals had the potential to damage the skin when left too long.

The cloth was put aside and Vexen ran a latex gloved hand down the girl's body, starting at her collar bone and ending at her thighs before bringing his hand back up to knead one of her breasts as he so rarely received such with his usual presents.
The soft, necrotic breast tissue was pliant to his hands; his other hand rubbed idly at the bulge in his pants before brushing a few strands of her hair from her face.
He kisses her, first softly on the cheek and again more strongly to her unresisting mouth; he could feel the residual warmth of her life in her mouth -as he deepens the kiss his hand slides from her breast and onto the fatal wound -slipping his fingers in almost sensually -as if she were still alive and he was pleasuring her.

His fingers worked in and out of the hole as if he were fucking it - the meat was warm and yielding to the ministrations and Vexen groaned silently into the woman's mouth; lightly humping his other hand through the material of his trousers.

Vexen soon pulled away from these attentions, and admired the pinkish stain on his glove from the molestation of the wound -he moved as if to lick at it, bringing blood smeared fingers to his mouth and then bringing back down to the woman's body and placing a rubber block under the her back.

"You know, I always thought it was odd how gentle you get with the dead girls."
Vexen twitched,
"Shut up Xigbar." he growled.
"You always act so violent with the live ones."
"Stop talking."
"Gee, get a little pushy when you're hot?"
The ambient temperature of the lab dropped a few degrees and Xigbar cackled before falling silent.

Having such a fresh girl is such a rare treat; one that he would soon lose if he didn't hurry; but Vexen didn't rush -there was plenty of time and dead flesh was always so easy to damage and so very often dry or their natural moistness was insufficient
A simple, unscented, water-based lubricant was among the various tools (many more of them with by far more unsavoury uses than this). Making liberal use of his fingers, he worked a dollop of the lubricant into the woman's vaginal cavity; stretching it as he proceeded.
Once satisfied with his work he removed the soiled gloves and replaced them with clean ones then climbed onto the bench.

Lifeless limbs are easily shifted to accommodate his presence, the woman -literally dead weight in her pre-rigor state- lolled along with the blond scientist's movement of her limbs.

Three hours postmortem, rigor mortis; 12 hours postmortem, the body would be cool; 24 hours postmortem, it would lose all internal heat; 72 hours postmortem, the body's rigor mortis would subside and rapid decomposition would begin.

Kneeling between the woman's splayed legs, Vexen reached to the side tray for a scalpel; rather than completing the traditional autopsy cut, Vexen went through most of the motions of the Y-incision but stopped one arm of the incision short of the fatal wound -he didn't want to ruin that hole just yet; he mused briefly on the fact that if the girl were still alive, that hole would have been the first place he fucked. But the unfortunate issue with such wound was that it was generally fatal rather quickly and generally ruined his modus operandi -so he never made them until after the ritualistic process, particularly if the unfortunate girl managed to live through the entiriety of his usual proceedings.

With the incision complete the scalpel was put aside and Vexen undid his pants. The blond man made a slight hissing noise as his erection was expossed to the cold air of the laboratory.
When he first slips into the girl his motions are slow and cautious, taking into account the reduced durability of dead flesh as he thinks he'd rather like to keep this girl around for a while. The girl is slick and warm -warmer than himself at least- and just right; if only he could have received her alive.

He kept his thrusts at a slow, even pace so the corpse would not move around too much as forceps and a scalpel were utilised to pull back the skin and muscle to expose bones and organs underneath.

Next he rolled his superfluous sleeves up to his elbows, then took to hand a small set of rib cutters. The small tool was awkward but it was small enough to be used with one hand -one hand held the body steady while the other's rib cutters went snick-snick-sniker-snack, crunching through ribs, one-by-one till he could lift out the sternum.

From there things got messy, one by one organs were removed and sorted in metal trays. Some would be simply thrown away and others would be kept or given to far less savory members of their little organization.

The intestines, soft, long and slippery are the hardest part; but years of practice makes the removal look simple. A cut just before the rectum and a grip to prevent leakage of residual fecal matter and they are scooped out with the rest of the digestive tract to be placed with the rest of the junk organs.
Eventually her body cavity is practically empty save whatever bits of scrap tissue, bile and gore happened to escape the process or was intentionally left behind such as most of her reproductive system(for obvious reasons).

He gave a superfluous pinch to an areola -leaving a faint red residue from his gloves- before drifting his hand back into her body cavity.
Vexen ran his fingers down the spinal column, tracing the shape of the vertebrae till he reached the pelvis and removed his hands from the orifice to grip her hips.
Close to orgasm he lets himself move faster, without the risks of sharp objects and spilling entrails he lets himself be rougher.
Seeking more friction he gripped himself though the woman -a few more strokes was all it took to finish- riding out the sensation silently before withdrawing and cleaning himself off with a moist towelette.

It took a few minutes to straighten himself up and look like he hadn't just fornicated with a corpse (and heavily mutilated it in the process). The gloves were tossed with the other scraps, he would clean this up later.

Vexe felt something wet splatter against the back of his head, the blond put a hand to his hair.
Warm, sticky -urg
He heard Xigbar laugh before the whisper of a portal opening and closing.
Vexen scowled as a piece of yellow paper fluttered down in front of him.
Catching it in his non-soiled hand, he read it.

-just because you have exclusive tastes doesn't mean I do-

The message was followed by some crude stick figures in compromising positions.
The note was quickly crumpled and incinerated and Vexen went off to disinfect his hands and hair.

If anyone needs me, I'll being drinking till I forget I'll be attracted to Lucy-Lu-Lucrecia regardless of pulse or labcoat.
Alternate titles include:
Rotting Amongst the Lillies
Dead Flowers
Insula Mortis (used because I like fanthing latin)