"Just Because"

Zexion bit back a grumble as he glanced at the clock on the wall. It had been over five hours since he had spirited away to his study to escape the fellow basement dwellers of Castle Oblivion. Well, truth be told, it was mostly Vexen whose complaints had finally irritated the younger nobody beyond comprehension, but regardless, Zexion knew it would be best for everyone--mostly himself--if he would do his own research in the lonely yet safe confinements of his room.

And there he sat--at a desk far too large for someone of his stature--papers littered everywhere, books and journals agape, pens lying abandoned between the mountains of precariously perched tomes. At this time, however, he had discarded the books for a pile of local newspapers, scanning for any unrest that might indicate Heartless activity. He sighed as he perused paper after paper, throwing each aside when he finished, far too tired to care of the ever-increasing pile of newsprint behind him.

Things had become aggravating for the young nobody. At this time, it had been several months since Marluxia had been put in charge of Castle Oblivion with the help of several other Organization XIII members. (Zexion also couldn't help but wonder at the irony of all these members being the ones who wished to conspire against the organization, but surely it was only coincidence...) For himself, he knew he no longer swore allegiance to Xemnas; the "Superior" had far too many methods of achieving Kingdom Hearts that he disagreed with.

But Marluxia? He clicked his tongue as he imagined the overly flamboyant but still quite intimidating assassin. Zexion certainly didn't swear loyalty to that man, either. Vexen, too, could not tolerate the other's presence, but more of a follower than a leader, he allowed his dislike of Xemnas to overrule that. Lexaeus was harder to read, and much to Zexion's dismay, the silent man seemed to simply agree with whatever he and Vexen thought best. And then there was Larxene who, despite her sadistic and independent nature, secretly adored Marluxia and his ideas of revolution and rebellion.

Feeling distracted, Zexion shoved all the newspapers aside. Too many thoughts rushed through his head as he contemplated all of his comrades.

"And then there's Axel," he mumbled as he sat back in his chair, gray eyes staring listlessly at the ceiling. "Similar to Lexaeus in that his motives are rather hard to read but somehow different..."

He's not hard to read; he's enigmatic. One moment, he's an open book as brash and passionate as the element he controls. But only minutes later, he can pull this steel mask over himself, allowing nothing to faze him.

"Axel...he's..." He trailed off, a note of uncertainty clear in the tenor voice.

"Yes?"

Zexion jumped as a familiar but very unwanted voice cut through the dim light of the study. He could feel his chair tipping back about to fall as a figure rushed forward and caught the chair before it met the floor. And yes, just as Zexion both expected and dreaded, the owner of the voice loomed over him--green eyes and red hair as vibrant as always. Unfortunately, his mask was on, and Zexion, being in such close proximity of him, was unnerved.

"You do realize that knocking would have been the polite thing to do in this situation, yes?" he asked, his tone slightly shifting to accommodate the sarcasm.

"Maybe." A smirk tugged the corner of Axel's lips. "But you would have ignored it."

"Well, what do you want?" He nearly sighed the question, and the overbearing presence of the fiery man still far too close for Zexion's comfort, he then snapped; "and would you release me?"

An eyebrow quirked. "You want me to drop you?"

Zexion shot him a smoldering glare. "I want you release me so that I may stand."

The nearly nonexistent smile was still hiding behind Axel's mask. "Fine," he smoothly replied, pushing the chair back into an upright position.

Zexion immediately stood up, back to the taller man. "You still have not told me why you are making this visit of yours. Does Marluxia want something?"

The blue-haired man suddenly became aware of the unceremonious heaps of newspapers on the floor surrounding the desk. He abruptly began to pick them up, neatly restacking them on the desk, doing anything but facing the man he desperately wished would leave.

A small scoff came from Axel as he said, "Is that what you're hoping for? That I'm playing the part of errand boy?"

"Not particularly, but if the reason is anything else, please leave."

"Hn..." The mask was slipping; the smile became noticeable in the redhead's voice. "Don't you ever do anything just for the sake of doing it?"

Zexion, having picked up the last of the abused papers, looked at him. "No."

Slightly taken aback, Axel quickly recovered and retaliated, "Oh, of course--you're such a rule-keeper."

"I don't consider myself a rule-keeper or rule-breaker. I simply do what is best for myself and my goals."

The smirk on Axel's face grew into a feral grin as Zexion noted with a slight feeling of disturbance that the other man's mask had been relinquished. The distance between their bodies closed as Axel stepped up to Zexion, eyes gleaming dangerously.

"And do you not think that I could help with your goals?" the redhead challenged.

Determined to not be flustered, the smaller man maintained a stoic expression and faked confusion over Axel's statement; "I don't see how you could be of any particular assistance."

Axel's grin twitched. "Really, Zexion...most people would have recognized the invitation."

"What? Invitati--"

Soft lips cut the puzzled question short. Heat rapidly spread through Zexion's face when he began to belatedly realize that Axel had him pinned to the side of the desk and was, of all unexpected things, kissing him. His hands found the chest of the redhead, but it was also in this moment, Zexion vainly trying to push him away, that the smaller man realized just how much smaller he was.

And yet all logical thinking soon dissipated as he felt Axel's hand roam his body, one sliding through silver-blue hair, the other massaging his leather-clad back. Instincts and emotions which he thought had long ago diminished with his heart seemed to suddenly take control as he felt himself responding to the advances, hands groping for something to cling to. He could feel all his guard slipping away as the kiss deepened, and his eyes fluttered shut. The hand on his back slowly slid to the front and under his coat.

Zexion's eyes snapped open, and he immediately caught the other's wandering hand.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

With a feigned pout that lasted only a few seconds before a grin replaced it, Axel used his free hand to push Zexion up onto the edge of the desk while positioning himself between the tense man's legs.

"Aw, Zexion, I thought you were enjoying it," he all but purred.

"Only because I wasn't in my right mind," Zexion replied acidly.

Grin still plastered on his narrow face, Axel leaned close to the trapped man. He blew a small puff of warm air into the crook of Zexion's neck, causing him to yelp in shock. Taking the opportunity, Axel quickly tugged his hand out of Zexion's limp grip and slipped it past the waistband of the other's pants.

"Are you in your right mind now?"

Although he managed an icy glare, no coherent words but the sounds of a gasp and a strangled curse came from Zexion. Again, his neglected instincts had flared as he found his legs tense and pressed up against both sides of Axel's waist.

"I thought so," Axel remarked with a chuckle.

His hand grasped the zipper on Zexion's coat and playfully pulled it until the black leather pooled onto the desk around the small man's torso. Axel pushed up against him, completely trapping him, and smothered his upper chest with kisses. One of his hands roamed down Zexion's naked sides; the one left exploring in Zexion's pants now worked at undoing the clasp and pulling them down slightly.

Zexion, meanwhile, had bitten his lip hard enough to draw blood, and he pressed his rigid arms--the last part of his body he still felt control over--on the desk. His legs had rather gained a will of their own, trembling and pressing harder against Axel as hands caressed him--kisses pressed to a nipple and then his belly button, teasing, tormenting. And he stared and stared at the dark ceiling; he stared and he stared until the shadows seemed to blur together into an exotic dance--disturbingly alike the one he was unwillingly participating in.

The hands paused on his hips, and the kisses had stopped. His stiff legs were being coaxed into folding against himself, and a thin body--the upper half still clothed--lay on top of him. As a face nearly stole into his feverish sight, his eyes shut, and it was only an uncharacteristically gentle stroke of fingers across his temple that compelled him to look at Axel. The green eyes were once again unfathomable, and the build of anticipation--for something never before experienced, unknown, somewhat clichéd but unpredictable enough to startle--was almost suffocating.

But Axel was impatient and soon moved up against him, simultaneously kissing him.

Zexion felt a shudder run through him as this act--this union--began to steal over his senses. His lips were released as the redhead found a rhythm with which to move. And Zexion stared at the ceiling once again. He stared and he stared as this dance--forbidden--painful--pleasurable--continued. He stared and he stared until he could see sparks turn into stars and then into a silent explosion that blinded his vision into a haze of white. The other man suddenly tensed, and after a brief moment--both silent and unmoving--he removed himself from atop the scholar.

The sudden presence of cold on his skin cleared Zexion's mind, and with whatever shred of dignity he could salvage, he bolted upright and quickly put his clothing back in order. His mind, now unclouded by passion, was moving with great speed as he practically jumped off the desk, grabbed the nearest pen and pad of paper, and began to write furiously. Ability to feel pleasure despite lack of emotions, side effects of illogical or amorphous thought--

Standing only a couple paces behind him was Axel who stared blankly at him. Quietly replacing his own clothes back in place, the taller man sighed, and with grace lazy like a cat, he sidled to the vacant chair and dropped himself into it.

"You know, Zexion," he began, elbow on desk, chin in hand; "if this is the way you always act after you have sex with an outstandingly gorgeous person, I wouldn't be surprised to hear that you've never kept a girlfriend for long."

Without so much as a glance, the other spoke flatly, "I am not going to argue with you. This is too important. To feel something so close to emotion like that...this could be a foothold in understanding what state our minds--with whatever equivalent to hearts it has--are in."

"...You do realize that by sharing such a revelation, you would admit that you had sex with someone, right?"

Zexion nearly choked on his own saliva as he swallowed quickly. Glaring at the other man, he was not surprised to see the usual infuriating smirk on his face.

"I never said that I would be sharing this information with the others yet."

Axel just shrugged--rather awkwardly as he was still leaning on his elbow.

Zexion continued, "Besides, all of this is still too vague. It would take more experiments of some sort to prove anything--much less discover."

He heard a snort of subdued laughter beside him, and it was only then when he realized what he had just said, what he had just suggested. Heat burning through his face, Zexion fumbled to the side of the desk adjacent to where Axel sat--as if the distance might pacify whatever ideas his poorly deliberated statement might have stirred.

He risked a small peek from his paper at Axel whom he noticed was now smiling like a cheshire cat. However, he remained completely silent.

"Well," Zexion started with a swallow, "about why you came here earlier--if there was anything you had been sent for--"

Axel cut him off; "Whatever, Zexion. I can tell when I'm not wanted."

With that, he stood and gave his arms a stretch. The smile was once again replaced with his emotionless mask, and he turned to the door.

Just as Zexion found he was breathing normally again and Axel had opened the door to leave, the redhead glanced over his shoulder.

"Oh, and Zexion?" No sign of the smile came. "If you do ever need help with those...experiments, you don't need to be shy."

And the door closed, leaving the blue-haired nobody alone. His pen was poised above the paper, and he just stared at the shut door. The pen soon fell from his loosening fingers. Zexion felt--if there was anything he could possibly feel at this moment, he knew it would be this--disturbed.

What had he gotten himself into?

END

This is for my Bunny who (when I asked for a pairing to write about) suggested Axel and Zexion. This is my first attempt at writing an actual, uh, love scene. So, bear with me if it is terrible... And lastly, happy AkuZeku day! ...which was a week ago!