I'd like to give a special shout out to my good friends May and Heten! Thanks so much for your support!

The new world was quite lovely, if a bit dull. The breathtaking flora spread as far and wide as their eyes could see, blanketing the earth with lush, green woodlands, mountainous cliffs, and elegant waterfalls. The fauna roamed the land openly, leaping through fields or flying overhead without a care for their presence. Hardly any of the creatures were familiar — some were massive beasts with dazzling antlers, majestically grazing in bright meadows. Others were small and quick, chasing their companions and flicking their long, bushy tails as they darted across the forest floor and out of sight. There was so much to see, but nothing to see at all. There were no people whatsoever. Certainly none of the humans Saïx had mentioned, and not a single trace of Vexen.

Luxord and Demyx had reached a large clearing housing only a small stream and a positively massive tree. Its thick trunk was impressively tall, but rather than standing proudly as one might expect for a tree of its stature, this specimen seemed to slump over at the waist, drooping heavily with its long, leafy vines hanging in cascading sheets so low that they nearly touched the ground. Luxord likened the appearance to an old woman with long hair, crouched on her knees with her head bowed in grief. As sorrowful a sight as it was, it was as beautiful as an oil painting. Upon scanning the woods around them, Luxord discovered that it was the only one of its kind.

"Demyx, isn't it magnificent?"

Demyx had taken a seat on a nearby root and was absentmindedly plucking at his sitar. "Huh?" he looked up to see Luxord admiring the enormous tree. "Oh. Yeah. Amazing."

His disinterest was clearly audible in his tone, and he quickly dropped his head, returning his focus to his instrument. Luxord incredulously raised an eyebrow. "Come now, Demyx, I thought you were very in tune with nature. Does this scenery not invigorate you?"

There was no change to the musician's demeanor. "I guess," he shrugged. "Let me know if you find some shrooms."

Luxord, sighing, supposed now was as good a time as any. Demyx had been unusually depressed for almost the entire day, and not only was he concerned for the boy, but the sullen mood was starting to really wear on him. He joined his friend on the gnarled root sticking out of the ground and thought for a moment how to approach the subject.

"Demyx," he began. "I don't mean to pry, but you seem a bit under the weather. Are you unwell?"

"I'm just tired."

Luxord wasn't about to give up so easily. He pulled some supplies out of his pocket and began very deliberately making preparations in clear view of his young comrade. "Too tired for this, I presume?"

Demyx narrowed his eyes. "You want to smoke while we're still on the clock?"

"Why not?" Luxord fired up the lighter for his first hit and passed it to Demyx. "Join me."

Demyx, still looking suspicious, set aside his instrument and obliged the man, blowing an impressive smoke ring into the air in front of him. They passed the substance back and forth in silence for several minutes until they both could relax into the high. Luxord leaned back to let a warm sunbeam that had broken through the canopy fall onto his face. The air was still and quiet, giving way to a peaceful and calming atmosphere. Saïx had warned them of hundreds of men engaged in violent combat. He spoke of ships with cannons and heavy artillery, explosives, surprise attacks. He instructed them to watch their backs, never to let their guard down, lest they be taken as prisoners. To think that anyone could decide to go to war in a place as enchanting as this. Just what was there to fight over here?

"Hey, Luxord?"

Demyx's voice took him by surprise, having not expected the musician to actually be the one to open the dialogue. "Yes, Demyx?"

"How did you and Xigbar meet?"

The question alone brought back the bright lights in dark rooms almost instantly. He could see the flashing colors and numbers as clearly as if he were there now. He could already hear the soft shuffling of cards, the gentle knocking of dice on tables, the clinking of ice cubes inside cocktail glasses, and the amused laughter of the posh upper class. He smiled, welcoming the opportunity to reminisce.

"Ah, such a humorous story," he chuckled fondly. "It was at a poker tournament."

Demyx's jaw dropped. "No way."

"It's true," Luxord nodded. "As I recall, he wasn't there to play. In fact, he was with someone else. But he caught my eye. In my distraction, I nearly lost the hand I was playing at the time."

It may as well have been yesterday. The stunning image of that slender figure, so gracefully draped over the broad shoulders of a lucky stranger would be burned in his memory for all eternity. So strong was his infatuation with those painted-on leather trousers that Luxord's bets were more and more bold every hand. His poker face was faltering as he got lost in that long, dark hair. He recalled the exact moment he decided to pursue the man, surreptitiously following him to the bar just to hear his drink of choice.

"Whiskey sour, two cherries."

Luxord grinned to himself. "Seemed I stole his attention, too, because a few drinks later I had him in my hotel room."

Demyx gagged, cringing with disgust. "Ew, okay, I get it!"

Luxord was still laughing, stuck on the electrifying memory of the man who called himself Braig tying a cherry stem into a knot with his tongue alone. The two of them sat at that bar for hours, sharing cocktails and talking about everything and nothing, but that was after round one in Luxord's hotel room upstairs. It was almost too easy to leave the broad-shouldered stranger at a craps table and steal away to the nearest lift. They couldn't keep their hands off of each other for the entire ride up, and their lips were locked for nearly every step down the hall. Their clothes were off in record time once the door had closed behind them and they practically raced to the bed. That was when everything slowed down.

The sex was not rushed or aggressive. Not the first time. Luxord had a reputation to keep. He was a gentleman, and he refused to be rough with a man so fine and delicate. He wanted to savor every moment. He wanted to remember it for decades to come. They took their sweet time like it would never run out. Braig was so beautiful in the moonlight. Luxord couldn't tear his eyes away from the shadows cast over the man's lean frame as his back arched in ecstasy. Inside him was exquisitely warm and taut. The quiet hum of him purring against his chest was more lovely than any music he'd ever heard. Braig was irresistible. He was perfect.

Luxord endeavored to wrap up the story before he lost himself entirely. "It was casual at first. I was traveling, and I intended to go home after the tournament. But I never did," he smiled. "He dropped that other fellow and here we are."

"How long ago was that?"

Luxord shook his head, blushing slightly. "Ah, Demyx, you're going to make me show my age…"

His attempt at a deflection was met with silence and he turned to find Demyx staring with an expectant look. Luxord simply couldn't refuse, and he drew a long breath before revealing the truth. "It was nearly fifteen years ago."

Demyx gasped, turning fully to listen eagerly like a student in a college lecture. "How do you make it last so long?"

"Hm," Luxord stroked his chin while he pondered his answer. "I think the secret to a long-lasting relationship is communication. Xigbar has a very unique style of communicating which took me quite awhile to learn, but we're all the better for it."

"Have you ever had a fight?"

A laugh burst from his lips before he could restrain himself. "Plenty," he admitted breathlessly, still recovering. "He can be rather insensitive and oblivious at times. Not that he means to be. He's just that way — the type of man who'd tell jokes at a funeral and wonder why no one was laughing. So carefree that he can cross over into careless."

Demyx smirked. "That I can believe."

Luxord nudged him playfully, chortling. "But it's that carefree nature that draws me to him. And sometimes being careless is an adventure. There's nothing quite like gambling with fate itself," he lowered his voice as if to tell a forbidden secret. "And I like to think I've taught him a thing or two about empathy."

The source of Demyx's curiosity was plainly obvious for Luxord, as he watched the boy lap up every word he said. Part of him wanted to be thrilled that Demyx was asking these questions, but somewhere deep inside himself, he could have sworn he felt a glimmer of sadness. Nostalgia washed over him as he recounted the tale of his new, blossoming relationship with Xigbar, and that same nostalgia seemed to coat him a second time as he remembered those days where Demyx was only a boy, far more interested in his music than anything else. For him, the very idea that those days were gone for good was something to be both celebrated and mourned. Everybody grows up, Luxord supposed. Even Nobodies.

"We're too old to let insignificant matters trip us up," he added. "We focus on what's important. A petty spat isn't worth ending it all."

"How can you be so sure?"

He patted the young musician on the back with a supportive, yet melancholic smile. "People who are together don't always see eye to eye, and that's quite natural. But it doesn't signify that they weren't meant to be."

"This is confusing…" Demyx sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. "Axel said people just have a bunch of buttons and switches and you gotta be careful which ones you flip…"

Luxord hummed thoughtfully. "I'd like to think that people — even Nobodies — are a bit more complicated than that."

Demyx dropped his head, staring into the stream below him. The water was surprisingly clear, enough to show him a perfect reflection of his own face. He looked like hell. It was quite clear from the bags under his eyes and the chalky appearance to his skin that he hadn't been sleeping much. Even the cuddly moogle doll couldn't chase away the nagging thoughts of where he might have gone wrong. Even his sitar could no longer sing him to sleep. He understood quite well why Zexion was upset, and would likely have felt the same way in his shoes. But he had more questions than answers. He found himself wondering where they stood — were they still together? He knew Zexion would be the only person he should ask, yet couldn't bring himself to do it. Zexion wanted to be left alone, and Demyx had made a point of waiting for the man to come to him when he was ready.

At the bottom of everything, Demyx questioned whether they should have even attempted to develop such a relationship. They had no hearts, and they should have known that it would be a challenging feat. Luxord and Xigbar had been together for so long that it was a habit for them to be together. They had time and experience that the younger pair lacked. Perhaps, Demyx thought, the two of them had been setting themselves up for failure all along.

"But…" he turned back to Luxord, still somewhat hopeful. "Hasn't it all changed since losing your hearts?"

"Oh yes," Luxord agreed. "It is the nature of relationships to shift periodically. But one must not fear change, for they can never truly escape it." He met the trepidation on Demyx's face with support and sympathy, and he mirrored the hint of optimism in his voice as he elaborated. "It is… different to love without a heart. But not impossible. If you want it desperately enough, you will fight for it, and you will win."

"But how can you love someone if you can't feel it?"

"Love isn't a feeling. It's a choice," Luxord gripped his shoulder firmly. "It isn't easy. It's not meant to be. You choose to love someone with every word you speak to them, every action you take. You decide if what you will do will be from a place of love or not. Can't rely on feelings alone when they're not always there, eh?"

For Demyx, the concepts Luxord described were as complex as philosophy or theoretical physics. So far-fetched as to sound made-up, yet they made perfect sense. Zexion was upset. He didn't have room to feel anything other than that. But it was a temporary problem. That fear and anger would eventually melt away, and Demyx could only hope that when that time came, Zexion's feelings toward him would still be there, right where he'd left them. Surely their relationship couldn't have been so fragile as to dissolve after just one outburst. Hope was rapidly returning to him in beats and flutters in his chest, and for the first time in many days, Demyx felt just a hint of calm.

"Luxord?"

"Hm?"

Demyx stopped himself, unwilling to say too much and eventually settling on something far more simple. "Thanks."

Luxord threw an arm around his shoulders, smiling warmly. "You're quite welcome, my friend. And you know, Demyx, you may always discuss things with me, with Xigbar, with both of us if you wish," he shrugged, chuckling slightly. "You live with twelve other people, so what's the sense in trying to sort out your problems alone?"

Demyx nodded his agreement and picked up his sitar. "Is our shift up yet? We should get out of here."

Just as they rose to their feet, Luxord was certain that he heard a rustling of the nearby shrubbery. He whipped his hand in front of Demyx, protecting him from what he anticipated would be one of the dreaded sneak attacks they'd been warned about. The quaking of the leaves quickly halted, leaving behind an eerie silence. Still apprehensive, Luxord called out to the menacing stranger, hoping to gain the upper hand on their opponent.

"Oi! Who goes there?" he shouted intimidatingly. "We know you're watching us, now show yourself!"

The bush's twigs began trembling again, more and more violently until the leaves parted and out jumped their spy, startling them both with a frightened screech.

"Ah!" Demyx jumped back, nearly falling to the ground in his haste to escape. Luxord remained perfectly still, eyeing the creature curiously. It crawled on four limbs and had a long, thick tail of black and white rings. Its body was covered with gray fur, and the black circles around its eyes gave a masquerade-like appearance, as if the animal were seeking to conceal its identity.

"Well, well," Luxord said, more curious than anxious by now. "You're a strange fellow. I don't suppose you've come to attack us?"

The creature chirped, barreling toward him and climbing up his coat, sniffing every inch of him with its twitching little snout all the way.

"Ah…! Luxord! It's that cat thing Larxene was all mad about! The one with the rabies!"

"Now, Demyx, don't fret. This creature is no threat to us — he's merely curious."

The animal perched on his shoulder, looking expectant as it stared him down. Supposing that it perhaps wanted food, Luxord could only shake his head in defeat. "I'm sorry, mate, I've got nothing to offer you," upon seeing that the creature was unaffected by his rejection, he dug in his pockets, pulling out a card from one of the many decks he carried with him. "How about this, then? A present to remember us by?"

The animal snatched the card as soon Luxord presented it and darted off into the distance. With a heavy sigh of relief, Demyx cautiously approached his comrade, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Okay, he's gone. Let's leave before he comes back."

"I think we should follow him."

"What?!" Demyx hissed. "Are you crazy?!"

"Come, Demyx! Gambling with fate, remember? It's an adventure!"

Luxord was already in hot pursuit of the creature before Demyx could argue any further. Huffing in exasperation, he joined the chase, following several feet behind his comrade as they ran through the dense forest of pine. He couldn't begin to fathom why they were after this little pest. It was only a wild animal. It couldn't possibly have any leads on Vexen. Luxord must be acting on a hunch. Demyx knew him well — he'd weigh the chances of finding a clue against the risks, but ultimately, he'd go with his gut. No matter how high the stakes were, if his instincts told him to call, he'd call. Perhaps it really was just for the thrill of the chase. Maybe Luxord was just as curious as the creature, and just wanted to see his opponent's cards. If Luxord thought for even a moment that this little guy had something, he was going to fight for it.

Luxord had stopped by the time Demyx caught up and was observing with fascination as the creature added the card to a collection of trinkets and other belongings kept hidden in a shallow burrow. They caught a glimpse of several small items — a compass, a pipe, a pair of glasses, and many other little baubles. The creature retrieved a torn scrap of paper and scurried back to face the two men, presenting it to Luxord in its paws.

"Ah, what's this?" Luxord muttered gleefully, unfolding the page and squinting at the words.

"Wait, did that thing just hand that to you? How could he possibly know to—?"

"Demyx," Luxord gasped, pointing to the writing. "Look!"

—technologically-advanced…aggressors in this conflict. …engaged in a territorial dispute with the intent of seizing valuable resources. …slaughtering…by the dozen, and will…

The natives, while…defense of their land, their customs, and their people.…weapons are crude, but their methods are rabid and vicious. …to kill, and they will do it quite slowly.

Neither side takes many prisoners, and perhaps it is just as well. Those who find themselves in such a position do not live long.

The two gaped at the document in utter shock, momentarily speechless. The page was heavily damaged. The ink had worn away from the elements and the information therein was badly fragmented, but they recognized it immediately. There could be no mistake about to whom this paper had belonged.

"It's… It's a report from Vexen…" Demyx whispered with a shaking voice. "It's definitely his writing…"

"Indeed," Luxord stroked his beard in thought. "But how did it get into the hands of this feisty little brute?"

Before either of them could theorize any further, a tiny object came flying at their heads. They ducked out of the way, only for it to follow them wherever they went, emitting soft fluttering sounds with its rapidly beating wings. It moved so quickly that they could not identify whether it was a bird or an insect, but whatever it was, it was certainly alive, and it was quite angry about their presence.

"Luxord, this thing doesn't like us! We gotta go!"

"Right behind you. Let's get back to that clearing, quickly!"

Waving away the flying creature, they bolted, never once looking back to see if the masked animal was still there. When they had returned to the mourning tree and the gnarled roots by the pond, they collapsed onto the grass to catch their breaths. Too winded to speak, they said nothing for several moments as they rested on the ground, still processing the event in their minds. Neither of them had managed to voice a single one of the questions buzzing in their minds before Luxord was heard quietly giggling to himself.

"Luxord?" Demyx called out to him. "Are you laughing? What's so funny?"

He didn't answer, as the chortling quickly grew to full-voiced laughter. Clutching his sides and letting himself fall onto his back, Luxord's sudden episode was so contagious that Demyx couldn't help but start laughing alongside him. They went on for several minutes, rolling around on top of dried leaves, listening as their guffaws echoed through the woods around them. It had been so long — so long — since either of them had felt such elation, such relief. The Organization was in the middle of the craziest shit show they'd ever seen, but for the moment, they could only enjoy the intoxicating sensation of laughing until their sides were aching and tears streamed down their faces. It was like being high all over again, and they happily rode it out until it dissipated into sputtering giggles and heavy panting.

"See, Demyx…?" Luxord wheezed, holding up the shred of paper. "If you want something… you must fight for it… You can't win if you don't call…!"

A new clarity flooded Demyx's head in that moment. Luxord lived his entire life like a game of poker. He sought thrill and adventure in the art of gambling, oftentimes only looking to sate his curiosity. He was bold, but calculating, and with all his dignity and poise, he calmly accepted those times when he had to leave it all to chance. But never once did he stand idle while the cards passed him by. He was a player, not an observer.

Luxord's message was loud and clear. Now was the time to fight for what he wanted, and Demyx wanted Zexion more than anything.

"Luxord…" he heaved, still breathless from the laughter. "Let's go home."

Xigbar was just beginning to wonder what was taking the guy so long when his door finally slid open. "There's my man!"

Luxord stepped in, winded, sweaty, and covered in dirt. "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting."

Xigbar hopped off the bed and planted a kiss firmly on the man's mouth. "How was your search today?"

His kiss was returned several times over, all along his jaw to his ear. Xigbar could hear the smile in the man's voice and was looking forward to what had to be an interesting story.

"It was quiet and uneventful."

"Bummer," he scoffed with a frown. He took Luxord's hands and led him to where he could sit down on the bed beside him, gently prodding into his shoulders and across his upper back with his thumbs. "How's Demyx?"

Unzipping his coat and pulling at a dull twinge in his neck, Luxord sighed. "The boy is troubled, but I think he will pull through."

"What is it?" Xigbar asked, slightly concerned as he paused the massage. "Is he okay?"

Luxord shook his head. "He won't share. But he wanted me to talk to him about us," he clasped his fingers around Xigbar's, bringing them to his lips and brushing a delicate kiss onto them. "So I told him the story of how we met."

Xigbar's face lit up in a most familiar way. Just the mere mention of that evening seemed to replay the sound of the up-tempo jazz music, the drumming in his chest as he danced himself into oblivion, and the sweet burn of whiskey on his tongue. "Aw, those were the days, weren't they?" he could already see the thrilling flash of numbers in Luxord's eyes as he inched toward him. "Watching you clean out a whole poker table…"

"Watching you fail miserably at the slots…"

"Dancing until dawn…"

"Champagne and cigarettes…"

Every image evoked a new sensation. The shrill ringing of the machines as they spat out his winnings, the smoke and bubbles pouring down his throat, the heavy anticipation of turning over that last card. Xigbar had only enough time to set down his empty glass before the handsome fellow named Luxord drew him into a passionate kiss — the kind that turned his legs to jelly in a heartbeat. Whoever this man was, he knew exactly what he was doing, and Xigbar couldn't let such a perfect opportunity go to waste.

Luxord jostled him back to the present with a low, sultry whisper. "I still remember that first night with perfect clarity."

As he melted into a puddle in Luxord's arms, Xigbar giggled against his cheek. "Heh, I think I had a few too many."

"Then perhaps I should refresh your memory?"

"But Luxord," he grinned. "You're all dirty."

"I believe I can fix that."

Memories came back in bits and pieces, and they reminisced together in silence as Luxord pinned him against the shower wall. That evening at the casino was a blur, but Xigbar remembered how many times he wished he could just leave. It wasn't that he disliked the man he'd attended the tournament with, he just thought the guy was boring. He didn't dance, he never stayed out too late, he only drank beer. There was no sense of adventure in him. No fun. The tournament was work, and enjoying it would only break his concentration. It was no wonder Xigbar had let his eyes wander, and he could hardly contain himself when they settled on the burly stranger across the way. The one with the huge pile of chips — taller than anyone else's. The player, the alpha male, the king of the table. He was so handsome. Was he looking this way? Had he caught Xigbar staring?

He could tell the man was a romantic just seconds into their first conversation. As an acquaintance, the man named Luxord was eloquent and charming when he spoke. His words brimmed with genuine flattery and sophistication, and his silver tongue easily coaxed Xigbar out of his dull beau's arms. As a lover, he was affectionate in all the best ways, taking his sweet time, enjoying every detour just as much as the main event. Now, more than a decade into the future, he was almost saccharine in how tenderly he cared for his companion. Xigbar giggled playfully as the man leaned into the crook of his shoulder to kiss his neck, squirming and twitching in his grasp.

Luxord curiously raised an eyebrow. "What's so funny?"

"Your beard," Xigbar laughed. "It tickles!"

Luxord smiled, meeting the man's mouth with his own. The fact that they could still be humorous when they made love, cracking jokes and fooling around, reminded him of what it was like to be young and lively. He found that although he'd missed those days, he no longer pined for them as he would for memories long gone. Age may have been hot on their heels, but the two were as exuberant as ever, and they had many more playful years to come.

My god, he's good. Was it the fact that the man had won every hand he'd played, or that he'd won Xigbar's heart in no time flat? Was it his skill with the cards, or his prowess with a man's body? This guy was gifted. Without ever having met before, Luxord knew exactly how to please him — the precise rhythm, the most sensitive locations, just the right amount of force, all of it with perfect accuracy. Even now, so many years later, his virtuosity never faltered. Luxord still bewitched him with that same charm that had lured him away from the table and up the stairs to his hotel room. His kisses still curled Xigbar's toes just as they did the first time. He still beckoned a series of gasps and moans from Xigbar's lips with every touch. If Xigbar didn't know any better, he'd swear he was human again. He hadn't felt this good since he'd had a heart.

In the steady motion of their dance together, Xigbar could feel the swaying of intoxication in his head as they gently rocked back and forth in that tiny hotel room, that cramped shower stall. Such a romantic gesture, he thought, for the man to take his time and to handle him so carefully. The thrusts of Luxord's hips were deep, but slow, almost cautious. It was only after the first finish that Xigbar learned the truth — as polite and gentlemanly as it seemed, Luxord had been expertly pacing himself. Xigbar gleefully observed as his resolve wavered a little more with every subsequent encounter, until the experience was positively volatile in its intensity. By the end of the night, Xigbar was convinced that it was he who had won the pot.

The water had long since grown cold, but neither man took any notice. Xigbar had his face to the heavens, basking in the ecstasy of his lover's warm presence against him, around him, inside him — listening to the sound of the man's heavy, ragged breaths in his ear. Luxord was always so quiet, only ever finishing with a long, satisfied sigh. But this time, Xigbar could hear the tantalizing sound of stifled, desperate whimpers emanating from his lips. Those soft tones against his neck, faint glimmers of his impending loss of control, were music to Xigbar's ears.

Luxord paused all motion when the pleasure overwhelmed him, and in the brief hiatus, they intensified their kiss, planting their lips anywhere they could reach until they were both left trembling with anticipation. "What's your status, love?" he breathed hoarsely, clenching the supple flesh of Xigbar's backside in his fists.

Xigbar chuckled in response. "What, you getting close already?"

Without a word, Luxord turned off the faucet and carried him to the bed where he tenderly laid him down like a bride on their wedding night. He gently planted a trail of kisses from his mouth all down his front side, sending tremors through Xigbar's body. The light press of Luxord's lips at his nipples, his navel, his hip, his thigh, were electrifying, shocking him at every point of contact. His delicate fingers dancing over his wet skin sent a chill down his nape. Just as he was about to beg the man to quit teasing and get back to the action, he jumped, shuddering at the sudden warmth of Luxord's tongue someplace it had never been. In his surprise, Xigbar gasped as his face began to flush a deep shade of crimson.

"Luxord…!" he whispered, delightfully scandalized. "Since when do you…?"

Luxord grinned mischievously. "It's an adventure. I want to taste all of you."

"How romantic…" Xigbar moaned, instantly submerged in ecstasy as the man ravenously lapped at him in such a sinful spot. Luxord's lust for adventure was unmatched, and it should have been no surprise that he would go to such lengths to bring pleasure to his lover. He had always ensured that Xigbar was well taken care of. As equable as the man could be, there was a fierce protectiveness to him, as instinctive as that of an animal guarding its mate. He held his lover both gently and firmly, pressing their bodies tightly together with every embrace. His muscular build was not just for show. His grip was just strong enough to assert his dominance without causing any pain. He was attentive in his compulsion to treat his partner like royalty, much to Xigbar's chagrin, and his intentions were so genuine and thoughtful that it was easy and natural and perfect to love him.

As always, Luxord performed masterfully, tasting his lover like a delicacy, sampling him bit by bit and savoring every bite. The sweet caress of his tongue dragging in small circles sent a flutter through Xigbar's chest, and he reached down to tug at the man's curly, wet hair, barely able to remain still at the height of such euphoria. The divine wetness of having Luxord inside him in this way — drinking him in with such wanton hunger — weakened him with how beautifully intimate an act it was. Far be it from Xigbar to succumb to such emotional reactions, especially during sex, but if he'd had a heart, he might have burst into tears on the spot.

"Aw, man… You're driving me crazy…"

Luxord laughed against his thigh, soft and supple as it was between his lips. Feeling Xigbar quivering at his touch was fuel for his fire, and he ate up every raspy moan the man emitted. Nothing satisfied him more than pleasing Xigbar, and he stiffened as the man dug his fingertips into his scalp, knowing he was so shocked and entranced by his talent and his depravity that he could not restrain himself. Luxord couldn't help but reach between his legs, desperate to share in Xigbar's pleasure and join him at his peak. He spent several minutes below, ensuring that he wouldn't miss a single freckle, and soon he could see Xigbar's hips beginning to convulse, rolling and grinding into him in rhythmic pulses.

"Okay…" Xigbar whispered urgently. "Okay, babe, come back to me…"

"All caught up?"

Xigbar was speechless. He felt a low ripple spreading beneath his skin. There was an intense heat, followed by a vicious chill. His entire body heaved with his labored panting. Luxord climbed onto his knees and eased into him, hovering overhead and watching intently as his partner fell to pieces.

"Going to give me a show?"

"Ah hell, Luxord…"

"That's right," Luxord shot him a lustful smolder. "Come for me."

Xigbar didn't always fail at the slots. There was one unforgettable moment wherein he pulled the lever, watching the wheels spin with fierce and unblinking anticipation. To his bewilderment, the machine settled on triple sevens, spilling coins faster than he could catch them while sirens and whistles screamed into the air. In his excitement, he turned to boast to his partner, only to find Luxord standing in his place, wearing that same stunning smile he'd been flashing all evening. Xigbar's eye widened as the spasms in his muscles mounted to a staggering crest and burst in his core until he was drowning in bliss. Blinded by the pleasure sweeping through him, he stifled his cries of delight against Luxord's shoulder, thrashing in place beneath him and spilling just as vigorously over both of their bodies.

Luxord had always loved to watch the culmination of his efforts finally unfold beneath him. From that very first night all those years ago, he never tired of watching Xigbar crumble in euphoria, knowing just what it took to bring him there. With his objective complete, he could now look forward to his own climax. His entire demeanor changed instantly, and he commanded Xigbar with a much more authoritative cadence.

"Turn over."

"Mmm, I like when you get rough."

He could not place it, but something about being with Xigbar awakened a new vigor and vitality in Luxord. The moment he had the man on his knees, he indulged in the impatience and haste just this once and fervently plunged inside him. All at once he was wrapped up in the thrill of the chase. Chasing the high, the memories, the adventure into the unknown that was love. He galloped as fast as he could to that finish line, ready to fight for his prize if he had to — this one was worth fighting for. He'd raise the stakes until he had nothing left. He could never claim it if he let it get away.

The entirety of their relationship flashed behind his eyes as he neared the peak he'd been waiting for. Fifteen years of young love and wild infatuation growing into unyielding companionship and deep affection. Two foolish boys becoming reckless old men together. Placing their bets, winning and losing. Gambling with fate itself. From that first night at the casino and onward, from the butterflies, through the ache, all the way to the warmth, Luxord and Xigbar loved each other so fully and unapologetically — his only regret was that it had taken so long to realize that they'd never stopped.

Alas, the end was nigh, and Luxord had only seconds to live in that nostalgia before he would have to float back down to the surface. "Oh… Braig…"

"You gonna come?"

"Is this how you want it, love?"

"As long as you do that thing I like."

Happy to oblige, Luxord tightly wrapped his arms around Xigbar's torso and sank his teeth into his nape like a feral beast. The heavenly sounds of his voice moaning openly into the atmosphere were so enticing that he could hold back no longer, and at last he let everything go. With a resounding burst of ecstasy, the pleasure came crashing down on him like an avalanche, burying him in such bliss that he couldn't breathe. He was overwhelmed with joy, so blindingly bright that it flooded his world with happiness. He lost himself in love so potent that it could only have come from a heart. A burn sprang to his eyes, threatening to send tears down his face, and for once he resigned himself to them without a care for whether Xigbar would see. These emotions were far too strong, too real to be mere echoes. He had told Demyx that it was different to love without a heart, and that it was more a decision than a feeling. What he'd failed to realize was that he'd simply forgotten how it felt, and there at the height of his climax, he remembered.

With the pleasure having wound down at last, he released Xigbar and lay beside him, wiping the moisture from his face and panting heavily.

"You were holding that in forever," Xigbar chuckled. "Come here and give Daddy Xiggy a kiss."

They were reluctant to part for a long while afterward. They held each other tightly, almost frantically as they let themselves come down from the high together. Luxord was nearing the end of his last cigarette for the evening, and Xigbar was curled up in the crook of his arm, tracing shapes on his chest with his fingertips.

"So where did you learn to do that?"

"Military school."

Xigbar snorted. "You're shitting me."

"Not at all," Luxord insisted with a smirk. "It was a boarding academy for boys. The players on my own team were fun enough, but I discovered it was always the unwavering straight fellows who squealed the loudest."

"You dirty, dirty boy."

He flashed a winning smile, taking Xigbar's hand for kiss. "Not a one of them tasted nearly as sweet as you do."

Whether it was making him laugh with his parlor tricks, burning him up with the heat of his passion, or dazzling him with his enchanting smile, Luxord never failed to charm him. Xigbar swooned under his lustful gaze, buckling at the exquisite sound of his voice every time he leaned in to whisper sweet nothings in the dark. Xigbar could have stayed there for hours with the man pressed against his back, just listening to him breathe. But after some time, cursing the clock under his breath, he surrendered to the late hour and endeavored to sleep at last. He was just closing his eyes when he noticed Luxord still awake and staring contemplatively at the ceiling.

"What's on your mind, big guy?"

"Demyx."

"Still stuck on his weird mood?"

Luxord didn't respond right away. He was just fitting the pieces together in his mind. When they finally clicked in place, the picture shone was so poetic and beautiful that he couldn't keep it from Xigbar for one more second.

"I think Demyx is in love."

Xigbar gasped, shocked by the news. He really shouldn't have been — Demyx was a good kid and it was only a matter of time. Even as a Nobody, Xigbar knew that love was in his grasp. What stunned him was the idea that Demyx had fallen in love with someone and he'd missed it. He had seen all the signs, remembering how worried he'd been upon noticing that the boy was acting strangely, yet he hadn't put two and two together. When did he get so unobservant? Was he really such an old man already?

Smiling warmly, Xigbar made a silent wish for Demyx to enjoy the ecstasy of love while he was young and virile. Let him fall head over heels for someone, go on lavish dates and spoil each other rotten, sneak around in the night like a pair of rebellious teenagers, have all the fun a man with no heart can have. And whoever he'd chosen, Xigbar prayed that they would make the kid as happy as Luxord made him. Demyx deserved it.

"I hope he is."

Merry Christmas to you all! Thank you so much for continuing to read my very first story. It's been almost a year and I hope you've enjoyed the journey as much as I have! Much love from the author! 3