While aware of the fact that if I wait a few more days, it will be exactly a year since I last updated, I'm in a posting mood. Too bad, I suppose.
Chapter 4: On the Subject of Old Friends
"So I'm thinking of doing a cover of Love Story. By Taylor Swift, you know?" Demyx commented airily. The blond was lying on his back on the bed he was currently sharing with Zexion. The former was staring at the ceiling; the latter typing busily at his laptop.
It took him a few seconds to answer, Demyx was accustomed to this.
"I do not know and I'm not sure I wish to."
"Zex, you work in a music store. You guys play music constantly, how do you not know that song?"
A few seconds later and the supremely sarcastic reply was, "Well, um, like, we only play, like, good music."
"You haven't even heard the song!" Demyx sat up to point an accusing finger at his boyfriend.
"Nor do I-"
"Romeo take me somewhere we can be alone. I'll be waiting all that's left to do is run." Here he scooted closer to Zexion and hooked one hand around the back of his neck, "You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess, it's a love story, baby, just say-"
"Stop?"
"Yeeeeees."
Zexion stared at him icily for a few seconds, "Demyx, for the sake of our relationship, which I've grown to enjoy despite my best efforts to the contrary, I would request that you never do that again."
Demyx pouted, "Zexion, I love you, but would it kill you to not act your age?"
Zexion winced internally. He was rather sensitive to the fact that he was four years older, it made him feel a bit like a cradle-robber. "I'm not willing to find out. Are you?"
"Fine, fine. Fair point." Demyx flumped down to lie on his back again with his head on Zexion's thigh. "What if I replaced the "Romeo"s with "Zexion"s?"
Zexion thought it over for a second, "No, still nauseating. And besides, I'm assuming the name "Juliet" is used at some point, and your name is only two syllables so it doesn't work. Unless you get your name changed and I'm told that requires a lot of forms and paperwork."
"Tempting, but no," Demyx concluded easily.
Zexion nodded in a self-satisfied manner and quietly opened his iTunes and deleted Love Story from his music library.
"Naminé, you were amazing," slurred Xigbar; he was on his sixth beer.
The girl in question, who was on her second Shirley Temple, nodded amiably and decided not to tell her companion that he'd already said that. After all, it clearly hadn't worked the last time. Or the time before that.
"I mean, the way you shoved your pistol in that woman's face-"
"Could you keep your voice down? We're kind of in public. And we're criminals, we're probably on the news right now…." Naminé trailed off with a dreamy smile on her face. This was the most exciting thing to ever happen to her.
"Mob boss" is perhaps too strong a term. Apart from a minor interest in drugs, prostitution and assorted financial deviancies most of what Zexion did was quite above board. (And most of the former group took place in the neighboring city.)
Maybe "local" was the inappropriate word, "mob boss" was decent enough when you
thought about it. Regardless, Zexion did more work keeping Beast's Castle in good working order than corrupting the young or whatever it is mob bosses are supposed to do.
"Are you sure you left it in here?" Zexion asked tiredly as he stood up and brushed a piece of hair out of his face.
"Yes. I am sure." Demyx totally would have lied about something like this to get more time with the shorter man, but as it was… he didn't have to. He really had lost his wallet somewhere and was reasonably certain it was within the confines of the back office section of Zexion's store.
Zexion nodded irritably, he hadn't expected the blond's story to change after all and surveyed the room, half-hoping the wallet would jump up and start doing the can-can so the blond could take it and leave.
It didn't.
Demyx made a muffled sound of displeasure in his throat and dragged the toe of his sneaker along the tile floor as he shifted location. "Oh, narf!" He bent swiftly and picked up the black leather object.
Zexion frowned at him disgustedly. "Narf?" he said at last.
"Yeah, narf. You know, like, Pinky and the Brain, that old kid's show. People used to make stupid jokes about how I was Pinky. I guess I wasn't the most focused kid in high school – Anyway, they kept saying that I really needed to find myself a brain. Pun intended, heh."
…
"Why the hell are you looking at me like that?"
She probably shouldn't have let Xigbar talk her into switching from Shirley Temples to liquor, but being around a drunk when sober wasn't a particularly wonderful experience, and so she had.
And that was why Rapture's patrons soon bore witness to the sight of a slightly flushed Naminé half-stumbling out on to the dance floor around one in the morning on a school night.
She really should have let herself do this sooner, it was actually pretty… fun.
It probably had something to do with her dance partner. She wasn't sure where he'd come from, but she was sure she didn't want him to leave.
She wasn't exactly partial to guys, but he was just so damned gorgeous, easily the most attractive person she'd ever seen in real life.
It was probably the alcohol, because pink hair just shouldn't be appealing, maybe it was the striking contrast with the distinctly masculine face and body, maybe-
It didn't matter; she just liked the feel of his hands on her hips.
"I don't like you."
Zexion didn't turn from the sink where he was absentmindedly doing dishes. It's not like he needed to look to identify the speaker, even before Axel had spoken. (This was before the birth of Lea.)
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"And that right there is why I don't like you," Axel continued as he strode further into the kitchen, away from the sounds of their friends' (Demyx's friends, not Zexion's) chatter. "You are such a fucking prick." For all his anger, he kept his voice down.
Zexion set a cleaned and rinsed plate in the drainer before turning to face the redhead. "Kindly get to the point so you can stop wasting time. I know you don't like me and I don't like you. Why are we discussing this?"
Axel leaned against the counter and clenched his jaws shut for a long moment before gritting out, "But Demyx does, damned if I know why."
"Again, something we both know." Zexion dried his hands on the towel hanging from the handle on the oven door.
Axel bit back a snarl and forced himself to continue in as calm a tone as he could manage, "And because Demyx is one of my best friends, damned if I know why 'cause he can be such a little drama queen, and so, I'm willing to… pretend. That is, I'll try to forget we've known each other since we were five."
The statement didn't seem finished to Zexion, but Axel wasn't speaking anymore. Zexion considered the offer. A large part of him wanted to reject it and the outstretched hand, but he was practical enough to realize that was dumb. He wanted this thing with Demyx to work. Or at least, if it was going to end, it would be because Zexion wanted it to, nothing to do with a meddling redhead.
He forced a smile and shook the not-yet manicured hand.
Marluxia was enjoying himself, but Marluxia was pretty much always enjoying himself. Enjoying himself was simply what Marluxia did. It was something of a talent, or so he liked to think.
And happy as he was with the current situation, he knew he was going to have stop enjoying himself in the next few minutes or else things that even he would regret would happen.
There were three things that were made quite clear by the way the cute little blonde was kissing him; (a) she was drunk and (b) a clumsy kisser which meant she was (c) almost definitely a virgin.
Sleeping with drunk virgins was not a thing Marluxia did.
And so, with a slight feeling or regret, he removed her hands from around his neck, kissed her slowly one last time, and pulled away.
She stared at him, lips trembling, "Was – was I bad?" Definitely a virgin.
"No. No, sweetheart, you were fine. But you're also very drunk."
"Oh," she looked down.
"Did you come here with a friend, sweetheart?" He kept his tone soft and gentle, drunks were prone to abruptly shifting emotions. That could be problematic in this kind of circumstance. He had learned that from experience.
"Who'd you come here with? Can you point them out to me?"
Children can be a bit like wolves and on the first day of kindergarten Axel was well on his way to establishing himself as the Alpha.
He'd spent the morning ice breaker eyeing his rivals and future minions. And ignored everyone else. During snack time he'd sufficiently cowed two of his three competitors with angry stares over his juice box. Five minutes into recess he was in a duel with the remaining candidate surrounded by a ring of cheering boys circled more loosely by the girls who were interested but were doing their best to pretend they weren't.
The fight was soon over. Axel was King.
"You called," Demyx responded to Larxene's grunt as he entered her room, that is, Axel's guestroom.
"Oh. Yeah." Larxene ruffled the hair on the back of her head, fluffy with sleep (even she slept sometimes), not slick with… whatever. "Wasn't that last night? Whatever, I need-
"Did your boobs get bigger?"
"What?" She sits up suddenly to reinforce the word.
Demyx toes a bra on the floor with his dirty sneaker.
Larxene stares at it for a long moment. "That's not mine. Demyx, did you honestly think I would wear something so… floral?"
"Well, no-"
"It must belong to whatserface."
"I thought you were straight again."
Larxene waves a hand airily, "You know how these things change."
Demyx was actually pretty sure that for most people sexual orientation was a constant.
"And anyway, I didn't have sex with her. She was too drunk to remember where she lived and couldn't find Xigbar, who she apparently came with, I need to have words with that man, so irresponsible, but anyway-"
"Larxene!"
"Right, sorry. Long story short, I woke up beside a lovely and very confused blonde this morning. Not at all a bad way to start the day, beside an attractive person. Anyway, I need-"
"Tell me about it, I wake up next to Zexion everyday," Demyx grinned smugly.
Larxene forced a smile, "Right. Back to what I called you about-"
"He's pretty great, isn't he?"
It wasn't that Larxene didn't like Demyx, it was that Demyx could be really fucking annoying.
"Yes, he's-"
"I just wish he and Axel could get along better."
Larxene pulled back her legs just in time to keep them from being crushed by Demyx as he flopped down on her bed.
"You went to college with them, right? Do you know why they-"
"As far as I know," Larxene did not feel guilty in the least about interrupting him. She might as well appease him, maybe then he'd finally let her ask him about what she'd called him here for, "the chronology of their relationship is like this -
October 27th, Axel and Zexion's senior year of high school
Axel doesn't bother hurrying as the final bell of the day rings out overhead. He's feeling good. He's just finished talking to the coach, why he's still in the locker room, if he keeps it up, that sports scholarship should be his.
Whistling, he saunters over to his locker to find he isn't as alone as he thought he was.
"You're in a good mood," Zexion comments after a few second's awkward eye contact. At this point in their lives, they're at the point where idle chit-chat is appropriate, and the locker room was too eerily quiet.
"Had a good day," Axel says simply, opening the combination lock on his locker.
"Mm," Zexion agrees uninterestedly. That had been enough conversation.
They finish packing up at the same time, a few more seconds of awkward eye contact and - Later neither would be able to say who moved first or who did what; who wound up with shoulder blades protesting being shoved uncomfortably against a locker hinge, who was the one to hiss "don't kiss me, bastard", or who wound up 'on top'.
No names passed through either set of lips.
Both would agree that Zexion was the first to stand and pick his pants off the floor and Axel was the one who would ask in an unbearably husky voice, "Were you a virgin?"
"At some point, yes," Zexion would answer after a second's awkward pause. "At the start of eighth period, no."
And Axel would nod and wish that the locker room didn't have smoke alarms because he'd be dying for a cigarette. He wouldn't ask the questions of 'who' or 'when' or say that, at the start of eighth period, he had. And Axel would be starting to wonder if maybe there was something to that theory he'd always considered sappy and dumb; that maybe losing your virginity was something you should do with someone you cared about, not that guy you'd known since kindergarten and with whom you'd eternally be in an odd limbo between hatred and disdain.
- met in kindergarten, hatred-slash-dislike-but-in-an-almost-friendly-way until their senior year, at which point they started screwing, even though they didn't like each other. They kept that up, off and on, for-"
"Wait, what?" The air whistled as Demyx sat up.
Larxene made an 'oh shit' face of epic proportions. "I thought – You didn't – They never-"
"Axel and Zexion… had sex?" his voice cracked like it hadn't in years. Hell, his voice had never cracked that bad.
"Erm, yes?"
"They – Oh, god - I'm so – I think I –"
Larxene hadn't known that the human face could change so drastically so many times in so few seconds.
"I have to go," Demyx concluded abruptly, leaving the apartment with a slammed door.
Larxene immediately thought of two things. The first was that she'd never had a chance to ask Demyx about a job, why she'd called him in the first place; the second was that it was profoundly fortunate that Axel wasn't home.
She stayed upright for a few seconds, blinking. She then shrugged and fell back onto the pillows, adjusting herself until she was fully ready to go right back to sleep.
It occurred to her maybe she should call Zexion and warn him, but she decided that he could deal with this on his own. It was not her issue, how was she supposed to have known that neither Axel or Zexion had seen fit to mention that detail of their shared history to Demyx.
October 27th, Axel and Zexion's senior year of high school
Axel doesn't bother hurrying as the final bell of the day rings out overhead. He's feeling good. He's just finished talking to the coach, why he's still in the locker room, if he keeps it up, that sports scholarship should be his.
Whistling, he saunters over to his locker to find he isn't as alone as he thought he was.
"You're in a good mood," Zexion comments after a few second's awkward eye contact. At this point in their lives, they're at the point where idle chit-chat is appropriate, and the locker room was too eerily quiet.
"Had a good day," Axel says simply, opening the combination lock on his locker.
"Mm," Zexion agrees uninterestedly. That had been enough conversation.
They finish packing up at the same time, a few more seconds of awkward eye contact and – Axel would be the one to wave a hand and say "later".
It was a well-known fact, at least between the two of them, that the fact that she was Demyx's cousin was the lesser reason as to why Zexion tolerated Naminé. The greater was just that she smelled really, really good. Usually.
Today she just reeked of oil paint.
Still, she reeked a little less than most Monday afternoons, maybe she'd found a less awful brand of cheap medium, thank god for small wonders.
It was probably a sad thing that Zexion was more aware of the longevity of his relationship with Demyx by how accustomed to Naminé he was growing, rather than Demyx's continual presence.
And so it was that when Naminé entered his office on this particular Monday he merely nodded and smiled faintly because that was how he always greeted her on Mondays and she visited every Monday.
This Monday had evidently decided to be different.
For one thing, his smile was marginally bigger than normal. What? Even Zexion had good moods.
"Is something wrong?" he asked finally, smile dying, after staring at her for what felt like a while.
She continued to stare at him uncertainly from the doorway, arms crossed over her chest.
"I think I fucked up really bad, Zex."
"What-" he closed the drawer of the filing cabinet he'd been digging through prior to her visit.
"Let's talk about it over lunch. I'll pay."
That was when Zexion knew something was horribly wrong with the universe and his good day was over. Naminé, like any good college student, did not offer to pay for lunch.
He grabbed his coat and followed her out the door with a sense of impending doom.
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