Waking up hungover wasn't the type of waking anyone would expect. Sometimes waking up was normal, a slight throbbing in the temples, or a grogginess that water could fix. Demyx's hangover was not like that in the least. It was heavy and stiffening, as if his joints stayed completely still throughout the night, and now that they were able to move, it was a pain that Demyx didn't want to experience. He groaned, his stomach lurching, as his mind spun, he covered his mouth as he rolled on his side, squeezing his eyes shut and repeating over and over in his head.
Don't fucking throw up. Please don't throw up. Not like this. Don't throw up. Don't throw up.
He spent a long time on his side, breathing hard, concentrating on not ruining the floor. He didn't want to clean it up if he did throw up, the humiliation would be worse. After he finally got his breathing under control and he was able to slowly move an inch, he sat up, gulping down breaths, eyes stayed closed.
"Fffff—" he leaned forward, hand covering his mouth once more. "Bathroom...bathroom...fuck."
He got up and staggered out of the room. The coolness of the hall touched his hot skin, but he barely noticed as he headed for the bathroom Zexion pointed out last night.
Shoving the door open and slamming it shut, he flipped the toilet seat up and everything he ate and drank last night came out in a sickening rush of utter disgust. He groaned, coughing, trying to control the pain, but it wouldn't stop.
When it didn't, he fell on the floor, trembling with puke still on his mouth, some had splashed on his face, but he was too exhausted to really care about it. He stayed on the floor, trying to ease the aftershocks before rising to his knees. He didn't look in the toilet, he didn't want to throw up again as he flushed it and turned on the sink. He washed his mouth out, spitting out the water and splashing water on his face.
Demyx breathed deeply, regaining a bit of control. He stayed in the bathroom for the next ten minutes, washing his face, the strands of his hair, and eating a bit of toothpaste to get the taste of his throw up out of his mouth. He grabbed some toilet paper and cleaned up the puke that was left on the seat and the floor.
"I think...that's good," he said, leaving the bathroom and coming face-to-face with Marluxia.
Shit. Morning just got worse.
"Sorry…didn't mean to take so long," Demyx said, walking past.
"You're Demyx right, the one Xigbar is obsessed with?"
Demyx stopped, holding on the wall to keep himself from falling forward. The hall tipped to the side, and his body was still trembling, but he managed to turn around. There was something about this guy's voice being incredibly smooth without sounding scrutinizing, as if he knew something Demyx didn't.
"Yeah."
The corner of Marluxia's lips tugged in a half-smile. "And you decided to drag a bunch of people in your problem. Why is that?"
This is too damn early to be discussing this. "Friends do things for friends, I guess. I'm too hung over to talk about this with you, I don't even know you to actually care what you say, if you don't want to help, you can fuck off. No one's asking you to stay."
Marluxia scoffed and he walked toward Demyx who had taken a step back. "I'm only here for Zexion, not for you and your problem with Xigbar. The man is trouble, and you know this. If he figures out that Zexion is—" Marluxia shakes his head, " do us all a favor, Demyx. Quit depending on people to clean up your mess."
He walked past Demyx who was left confused by his words, not exactly stunned, per se. More in wonder at what he meant by Zexion. He had a connection with Xigbar of some kind that no one was telling him about. What did it mean?
Demyx staggered back to the room and that's when he noticed Zexion was lying on the bed. He closed the door and stood before him, his dark bangs covered the side of his face, lips slightly parted, breathing softly. Sighing, Demyx rounded the bed and crawled on his side, covering himself up. He turned his body toward Zexion. There were a lot more questions that concerned Zexion, more than he thought.
Were they all keeping secrets from him? Or was it all a coincidence? He didn't like it that they were somehow connected to Xigbar, and if they were, he would be able to find him faster than before.
He hoped his past would stay in the past. A shrouded mistake that he didn't want to confront, but now that it was here, so close that he was scared it would devour him. What was he supposed to do? Marluxia didn't like him, and he knew a lot about Zexion. The smooth tone of his voice, the enigmatic features and how he stood made Demyx understand why Zexion dated him, and maybe why Marluxia might even want Zexion back.
Zexion was soft curves and mystery lines, his dark hair reflected off the morning light, and his solemn eyes hid secrets that were ingrained in the way he spoke. Demyx didn't know Zexion, and he was afraid of what it would mean when he eventually did.
Zexion mumbled, blinking, he gazed at Demyx who felt his cheeks warm.
"Are you watching me sleep?" Zexion asked, stretching his arms. Demyx noticed something on the inside of Zexion's wrist, but the second he placed his arms down, the thought vanished from his mind.
"Somewhat," Demyx said, "I didn't think you'd take my offer."
Zexion smiled, closing his eyes again, "I don't want to sleep alone with Marluxia here."
Demyx wasn't sure what that meant, but his chest tightened. Violent images of his dark past flashed in his eyes. "Xion mentioned you didn't have a sexual relationship with Marluxia."
"So you were talking to Xion about me," Zexion says, opening his eyes again, "you smell like toothpaste."
"I threw up in the toilet not too long ago. I didn't want to come back smelling like my stomach acid."
Zexion scrunched his face and laughed. "Good call. I wouldn't want to smell it when I woke up."
Weird. He wasn't sure if he ever saw Zexion laugh like the way he did, a sort of freeing motion before settling back, eyelids closing once more, but this time he had moved a bit closer.
"It wasn't sexual," Zexion whispered. "I didn't like where our relationship was going. He wanted too much, and I didn't. So I broke it off and distance myself."
Was it as easy as he said it was? From the way Marluxia is, he wasn't sure it was. Maybe that was the similarities between them.
Demyx squeezed his eyes, turning on his back. His temples pounded, and the room still spun, but he enjoyed Zexion's presence a lot more than he thought he would. A comfort that he needed to hold onto for now, even if there are more secrets his new found friends were hiding.
"Do you need Tylenol and water?" Zexion asked, already flipping the blanket and sliding off the bed.
"Yeah," Demyx said, bringing the blanket over his shoulders.
Zexion smiled, his hair was a mess, and there was something warm in his eyes that struck Demyx in the heart at seeing this early morning look. He wanted to keep it all to himself, but that thought was dangerous. Instead he closed his eyes and relaxed into the blanket.
He heard Zexion say "I'll be right back, okay." And then the door closed, leaving Demyx alone in the room.
Demyx nodded to himself, a pain ached in his chest at what he couldn't have. "Okay."
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