A/N: Well, I must warn you now that I was in a very bad mood when this was written because my mother had taken the keyboard to work so that I couldn't go on the computer on a day that I stayed home sick. Then, she decided to punish me for staying home by not letting me on the internet. So, I was about ready to start crying because I was so pissed off and this was the child of my anger. It is really weird but serves its purpose.

Warnings- Yaoi (duh, what else do I write?) alcohol and … minor violence. I think. Not even much swearing. :D

I don't own Kingdom Hearts (wow, I was so close to putting Death Note it wasn't even funny) or a gay bar.

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The sound was deafening and he couldn't even think straight. Pounding beats and rhythms coursed through his trembling body, his shaky hands reaching out to caress the air around him as the music flowed. His long, blonde hair was plastered to his face as sweat poured over him. Hips moving to the rhythm, he let his eyes flutter closed to 'see' with his other senses. No longer did he see the bodies pulsing around him, joyous expressions written on their faces from the feel of the reverberating beats. No; now he could feel the white-hot burn of flesh grazing his raised arms, hear naught but the pounding beat, smell nothing more then the overheating souls around him.

A pair of hands flitted around his tiny waist, pulling him close. When he could feel the breath of another against his ear-lobe, he let his eyes fall open and he turned in the embrace to see a slightly taller blonde. A puzzled expression drew across his face when said taller blonde motioned for them to go grab a drink. He stared, perplexed for a moment, olive-green orbs never leaving the glittering metal in the other's ear - watching as they changed from green to red to yellow to orange with the roving strobe lights in the background - before allowing himself to be led to the bar.

"You're alone, I see?" the taller blonde hollered to be heard above the music when the two had sat down. A nod from the still-perplexed, semi-cautious man caused the other to let out a bark of laughter. "What is your name, I must ask! And, how could one as handsome as yourself be alone on such a night as this?"

"V-vexen?" Vexen stuttered, unable to stop the blush from dusting his cheeks. He was a regular here at the club but never before had he been approached. Quickly, though, he began to trust this blonde, loosening up gradually, gaping when he saw a glass being placed in front of him. He glanced at the handsome red-head behind the counter who just winked at him. Sure, he was a regular, but, to already know his alcohol preference? He didn't even know he had a preference!

Twenty minutes, three shots and a full glass later, Vexen was feeling pretty good. But, in his state of good-feeling, he bypassed the fact that still he hadn't asked this mysterious blonde for his name. He was too busy lusting over the very sexy British accent and wondering what it would feel like to have that luscious beard stroking his skin. So he didn't even think of objecting when the man asked him to dance.

It was as though he were either psychic or paying the DJ under-the-table, considering the fact that the instant the pair stood, the loud, thudding beats halted, being replaced by a soft, humming tune, causing couples in the crowd to glance at one another before taking hands and rocking slowly to the lusty tones. Still, Vexen did not ask the blonde of his name.

The song ended and slowly the crowds began to die down. Still the two blondes talked, Vexen pouring his heart and soul into this man, not even noticing the fact that he did not bother to tell a single thing about himself, steering far clear of the topic whenever Vexen would ask. Not that it bothered the blonde much. He was happy he had found someone who seemed to care and not complain about his bitching. And bitch he did.

Work, his sex life, his idiot friend Zexion who didn't understand him, the fact that he was homosexual and being a regular at a popular gay bar while most of his friends/coworkers were homophobic, anything. So long as it was about himself. He was almost sure that the man sitting with him would run at any moment, but was shocked when he found him still placed firmly at the counter, the red-headed bartender scrubbing glasses, announcing last call.

"Sorry to break it up, boys, but, you'll have to pack it up," the bartender explained as the music drifted into a low hush. Vexen let out a soft sigh, letting his olive orbs drift into the icy depths of the other blonde, feeling his insides squirm.

"Why don't we continue this chat at your place, Vexen?"

Even just the tone that the mystery man held in his voice, moving in closer to let his warm breath curl over Vexen's ear, made him shudder with hidden want and need. Breathless, Vexen nodded, earning a wink from the bartender while his fingers were laced up in the other blonde's.

Like a child impatiently pulling at a slow parent on their way to the candy isle, the two went the block and a half to Vexen's apartment that he shared with his best friend, Zexion. Of course, Vexen didn't worry about making a racket when the two entered the apartment; Zexion was off visiting his mother for a week.

"I couldn't resist the way you were hinting to me what you wanted any longer, dear Vexen," the man hissed once the two were inside. He grabbed Vexen and pulled him close, tongue darting out between his teeth to lick at the shell of the blonde's ear. Vexen shuddered, stifling a moan before putting his hands to the taller man's chest.

"Wait up, two seconds, man. I don't even know your name! Tell me at least that much!" Vexen managed to get out through his pleasure and the alcohol in his system. A smirk played across the man's lips.

"If I were to tell you my name, I would surely have to kill you, dear Vexen."

The younger, shorter blonde let a smirk play out across his lips as well at the man's words. "Tell me anyways. I like a little danger."

"Put these on and I would gladly tell you anything you wish to hear."

With that, the man pulled a pair of metallic handcuffs from his long-coat's pocket. He watched with mirth as Vexen's face brightened. He had told the elder blonde of his obsession with handcuffs in the bedroom, after all. He let the blonde kiss him, leading them back into his bedroom at the end of the entry hall. A giddy little laugh escaped his lips when his wrists were firmly secured to the bedpost.

"Okay, so, what is your na-"

Vexen didn't even have the time to ask his question before the man turned on him, a vicious snarl laced on his lips. He straddled the trapped blonde, laughing idly when he attempted to thrash him off, panic starting to rise in the younger blonde's chest.

"My name? My purpose? What I will do to you? You want to know it all, you little drama queen, don't you?"

Vexen went still, fear instilled in his throbbing heart. A pocket knife was being drawn and he whimpered lightly. Everything was moving in a blur. Splashes of darkness and light, color and emptiness, nothingness and everything, swirling in a mass around his entirety.

-

"Vexen? Are you alive? You haven't been picking up my calls. Or, did you end up getting a boyfriend? Ve-Holy shit!"

Zexion had walked into his roommate's bedroom, stopping in his tracks when he did. He hadn't been gone long, maybe two or three days, back ahead of schedule, but, the mess he came home to stopped him cold.

Crimson. The one color that dominated all the others in the room was the vibrant shade of lifeblood drenching the walls and ceiling. Everywhere he looked, all his eyes came across was the brilliant scarlet stains. It took him a moment to find the source, but, when he did, he prayed to the Gods that he hadn't.

It was with a pure, shaking body that Zexion alerted the police. Tears were flowing from his eyes and he was fighting to keep the contents of his stomach in check. When the police chief arrived to survey the scene- wondering what the extent of the crime had been before the remainder of the crew arrived, he cursed, pulling on the custom rubber gloves crime scene investigators wore to pick up a playing card that lay between Vexen's spread, bloody, bared legs.

"What is that?" Zexion exclaimed, noticing how unscathed the card was, free of the blood that covered the remainder of the room. The card was the Jack of Spades and on it was scrawled 'Luxord Tenjou'.

"You've got to be kidding me! Another one? How many more men will have to die before we catch this guy?"

"Just two more, sadly."

The two men that stood in the small bedroom spun to the sound of a voice behind them. There stood a smirking blonde, two cards twirling through his fingers, his icy eyes dancing over the corpse of the man he had met in the club.

"W-Who the hell are you?" Zexion stuttered, causing those icy orbs to snap onto his shaking form.

"Ah," Luxord sighed, snatching the cards tight in his palm. "You must be Zexion. Dear Vexen spoke highly of you. But, alas, you didn't get to see the way he felt for you before he ended up dying. Shame, really. He kept it all inside, the poor thing. Oh, and Xaldin, there is no need to call for backup. I'm willing to come peacefully. I grow tired of these games. The eleventh victim wasn't as fun as I would have hoped. So, I suppose I'll be on my way."

Too shocked were the men still standing in the midst of the lifeblood to move, they watched in sullen horror as Luxord departed. The officer, Xaldin, was the first to come to his senses He darted to the apartment's door, only to hear a screech from his partner who had been waiting patiently in the car.

"Xigbar! Shit!"

By the time the black-haired officer managed to stumble down the stairs and to the side of the cruiser, his partner was bloody, dyed crimson in his final case. Lodged into the wound on his neck was another playing card, one of the two that the blonde serial killer had held in his hand, the Queen of Hearts.

"Back-up! I need back-up! Officer down! I repeat, officer down! Suspect fleeing on foot down Lancaster and Roy!"

Another scream caused the man to set off at a run down the street, cutting a corner to meet a bleeding woman, her throat torn by the man standing behind her. In his hand was the knife he had used to slaughter each of his twelve victims. But, he hadn't cut the woman enough to destroy her. No; just enough to make her scream.

With a second scream, the woman was thrown to the ground, causing Luxord to smile cruelly at the panting, sobbing officer. He raised the knife, appearing to be about to let it drop before he brought it upon his own neck.

Quickly, before he lost consciousness from the quick, sudden loss of blood, the blonde shoved the last of the thirteen cards into his own bleeding mess. The King of Clubs grew crimson in the killer's own lifeblood.

-

Life is really all just a Gamble of Fate, where the next hour of your life is decided by a simple roll of the die.

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The End

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Twas just as I said. Weird, random and having no point but simple death. Don't eat me if anybody that died was your hero. That is not something I deserve to be eaten for. If you can find something sensible to criticize, by all means, hack away. But, this was just used as a ventilation tool for me. What did you think of it?

Let me Introduce myself. – Futures

Mindless Self Indulgence (Man, I missed those guys. Bout time I got back into listening to them)

Tootles;

XbuttonsX