Author's note:
This is just a short drabble to get me back into writing mode.
I wish this pairing could be more common. They're so cute together! D:
But it is what it is, I guess. Maybe I can start some sort of VexZex revolution. :3
Anyways, enjoy.
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"Yet another futile day passed in Castle Oblivion." Sighed the clinical voice of Number IV as he fastened a steel padlock to the outside of his laboratory door. Finally clicking it in place, Vexen stepped away from his sanctuary, hollow footsteps echoing across the sea of gray flooring in the Castle's lower level. The scientist's stalky legs had just climbed a few of the thick stone steps when a small, nasally noise cut through the pitch black silence.
"Is somebody there?" Called the Scholar into the darkness of the basement. There was no reply. "You really are losing your mind, IV…" Vexen muttered to himself, continuing to venture up the stairs. The noise returned.
The Academic froze in mid-step, whipping around on his booted heel.
"Who's there?" He asked his company, blindly leading himself back to the lower landing. The sound came from the corner across from the blonde Nobody. Vexen patted his gloved hands along the concrete bricks, finally locating the twist-switch to the crude chandelier above him.
The dull, almost bluish light revealed the unfairly sorted chart of chores for the basement dwellers that was nailed to the solid wall. Below it was the steel table that was used by Lexaeus, Zexion, and himself for meals and socialization. The table's current occupant lay slumped across it's shining surface, his slate-haired head buried into his leather arms. Another small noise, which had turned out to be a snore, greeted the scientist's ears. Vexen chuckled softly to himself, wondering how he hadn't noticed the Schemer there before.
Silently, the Chilly Academic approached the table, kneeling beside the sleeping Zexion.
"VI…" Whispered the elder Nobody. "You've fallen asleep. Wake up."
The Schemer groaned softly into his make-shift pillows, but did not stir.
"Zexion." Vexen whispered a bit louder this time, placing a hand on the small of the young Nobody's back. "You must sleep in your own bed."
When, once again, VI didn't stir, the Academic sighed, standing up straight again. What could he do? He couldn't just leave Zexion here; He would spend the entirety of the next day complaining of a sore neck. The Scholar thought of summoning Lexaeus to carry VI to his bedroom, but remembered how the usually tame number V was never happy when awoken.
"I suppose there's no choice but to carry you myself." IV murmured to the unconscious Nobody. Vexen bent forward, hooking one arm beneath the crook of the Schemer's tiny legs, wrapping the other arm around his frail, leather-clad back.
With a great heave, the Academic managed to lift VI, who in his unconscious state instinctively wrapped both of his thread-like arms around his carrier's neck, and conveyed him across the vast basement and up the steep stairway.