It just doesn't make any sense!

Zexion had lost track of the hours he'd spent at his computer, his eyes dry and weary from staring at the screen for so long. He'd poured over his notes again and again but still could not find an answer. Roxas continued to experience symptoms that were consistent with a human pregnancy, and every examination seemed to support such a theory. Everyone was prepared to accept that Roxas was indeed pregnant, as ridiculous as the notion was, but all the pieces of this puzzle were in place but one. No matter what they scanned him with, all images came up blank. Where there should be a picture of a human baby, or any other entity of suitable size and shape to occupy the provided space, there was only emptiness. Test results were full of errors. Physical examinations were inconclusive. The only way they were ever going to get a look at it would be to cut Roxas open and see it for themselves.

Zexion sighed heavily. Of course, that option was off the table, save for a dire emergency. The procedure would be inhumane and possibly dangerous, and neither Vexen nor Zexion had any intention to hurt the boy or the entity he carried. The two scientists continued channeling all of their efforts into modifying their equipment to be able to detect the energy of the being inside Roxas. Unfortunately, these efforts were repaid with nothing but failure after failure.

Zexion pressed his fingers to his temples, closing his eyes to allow them a moment's rest from the bright light of the computer monitor. He'd been at it for so long that all the numbers began to blur together. He had considered that he ought to take a break several times throughout the evening, but he hated showing up empty-handed every morning, turning in useless reports full of fluff and nonsense. He could have written several pages of gibberish and Saïx wouldn't have known the difference either way, but Xemnas was a scientist. Their Superior could not be fooled.

He felt his body beginning to drift away, succumbing to the fatigue, but was startled awake by a voice at the door.

"Zexion! You pulling an all-nighter? I've got coffee!"

Zexion blinked several times, adjusting his eyes to be able to focus on distant targets once again. In the doorway was Demyx, carrying two styrofoam coffee cups.

"Demyx? What are you doing here?"

"You're welcome, Zexion." Demyx replied sarcastically as he set one of the cups in front of Zexion's keyboard. He perched himself on top of the desk nearby, quickly chugging the contents of his own cup.

"Uh, thank you." Zexion was about to take a swig of the much-needed coffee when he came to his senses. He eyed Demyx suspiciously, crossing his arms and addressing him in an accusatory tone.

"Demyx. You want something from me. What is it?"

"Come on! Can't I pay a friendly visit to a good buddy? Perform a gesture of kindness for a friend in need?"

"Oh, so we're friends now?"

"Ouch, bro! Right in the feelings!"

Demyx staggered backward, mockingly clutching his chest, but Zexion refused to fall for his antics. He bore no ill will toward the musician, but he rarely knew him to do any favors without expecting something in return.

"Look, if you're here for drugs, you can—"

"Don't be silly! I just came to, ya know, chat! Hang out!"

"In the middle of the night?"

"Why not? You're up."

Zexion, losing his patience for the man's imposition, turned back to his computer. "I'm working, Demyx. Thanks for the coffee."

"All work and no play, dude… You look like you need a break."

Zexion turned to counter his argument when he noticed that Demyx had scooted closer to him. It might have been his tired eyes, but he was also certain the man had unzipped his coat by an inch or two. Taken aback, Zexion slid his chair a few inches away and tried to continue working. He could feel Demyx's eyes on him, and he grew more uncomfortable every second.

"You're distracting me, Demyx. Just tell me what you want."

"Well, all right, if you insist. What I want is you."

Zexion immediately stopped working and gaped at him, unsure that he had heard him correctly. He's drunk, he thought to himself. Drunk off his ass, again. Though he tried to convince himself that there was no way Demyx was suggesting what he thought he was suggesting, the words were practically written all over the man's face. Finally taking a look at him, Zexion could see the message clear as crystal in his body language.

"Demyx… are you propositioning me?"

Demyx scoffed at his question, repulsed. "You make it sound so clinical. I'm inviting you to get your rocks off with me."

Zexion chuckled incredulously at the invitation. He had heard many crazy things come out of this man's mouth over the years, but this outshined them all. He had no idea Demyx had an interest in men, let alone him. He glanced at his own disheveled appearance, searching for any feature that might have been appealing in this moment. He sniffed his collar, wondering if he'd perhaps applied too much cologne. He found nothing particularly attractive about himself and couldn't fathom why Demyx wanted anything to do with one of the most repressed members of the Organization right now.

Zexion could concede that he found the offer intriguing, but ultimately decided it would be in both of their best interests to reject him while they still had a decent professional relationship. Hoping for a way to let him down gently, he chose his words carefully.

"I'm… flattered, Demyx. But I'm really not into that sort of thing."

Demyx's face fell slightly with disappointment, but he quickly shrugged it off. "I see. You don't swing that way, huh? I understand. I normally wouldn't either, but—"

"No… no, that's not it. I just… don't really think about it. I'm far more interested in my work, I suppose."

Zexion stroked his chin contemplatively. His greatest love was the acquisition of knowledge. He had always preferred the company of a good book over that of other people, and scientific research and discovery were all the satisfaction he had ever needed. Companionship was quite low on his list of priorities, and the activities Demyx had in mind weren't even on the list at all.

"Come on, Zexion, you're a man! You must have needs?"

"Of course I do. I just don't really acknowledge them."

"You mean you suppress them."

Zexion sighed in exasperation at Demyx's prodding. "Sure, if that's the terminology you wish to employ…"

"When was the last time you tried it?"

Zexion crossed his arms again, loath to answer such a question, especially considering what that answer was. Unfortunately, his silence did all the talking for him.

"Wait… don't tell me… you mean you've never…?"

"Demyx, I don't understand why you've suddenly taken such an interest in my personal life, but it's irritating. Isn't there anyone else you can bother right now?"

"Dude, I'm just looking out for you. Everybody needs to get laid once in awhile. I care about your health, man!"

"Because you're a shining example of healthy living?" Zexion retorted with a smirk.

"I don't know. Why don't you tell me?" Demyx had pulled the zipper of his coat down several more inches over the course of their conversation, now exposing a significant portion of his bare chest, which Zexion had all but disregarded. Now, having used his brilliant segue, he pulled the zipper the rest of the way down and let the coat slip off of his shoulders. For someone whom Zexion had always thought was a scrawny addict who preferred to drink his meals, Demyx did have an impressive physique. He was by no means a chiseled Adonis, but he possessed reasonable definition in his musculature, appropriately built for a man of his stature. As his cheeks flushed a light shade of pink, Zexion averted his eyes, feigning disinterest.

"Well? Do I pass my physical? Clean bill of health?"

"Good lord, Demyx, cover your shame."

"Aw, don't be a prude, Zexion. Aren't you the least bit curious about what it's like?"

Zexion didn't answer him right away. He had been a mere child when he apprenticed to Ansem the Wise, and not much older when he joined the Organization. Even if he had any interest in sexual gratification, he never had an opportunity to seek it out. By the time his human self would have experienced such urges, he had already surrendered his heart to the darkness. Those urges came anyway as faint echoes that were easy to disregard, and he had diligently ignored them until tonight. Now, the thought of acting upon them and revealing his pitiful lack of experience to someone he had assumed was an expert was intimidating. Zexion was still fully clothed, but had never felt more exposed in his young life.

Perhaps he was fatigued and not thinking clearly, or perhaps he was frustrated with his work and needed to blow off some steam. Whatever the reason, he could admit now that he was indeed curious. Everyone he'd ever spoken to had insisted that it was amazing. Surely it would be worth a little anxiety. As he admired Demyx's silhouette gracefully draped over the desk, he reconsidered the man's proposal. He slid his chair away from the desk and waited nervously to see if Demyx would do anything, hoping that if there was a first move to make, it would be his responsibility.

Thankfully, Demyx took the initiative once he noticed Zexion's forfeiture. He hopped off the desk and sauntered toward the apprentice, who sat completely motionless in his chair. He knelt down at the Zexion's knees, reaching for the zipper of his coat. Zexion tensed up immediately as he dragged the zipper down, frozen in place with anxiety. He shivered as he was slowly freed from the heavy garment, centimeter by centimeter, goosebumps forming on his bare skin. He hadn't expected to be reacting this quickly, surprised by how sensitive he was to even the lightest touch.

He watched, speechless, as Demyx slid his fingers all across his chest and abdomen. It didn't make sense. He'd put on and taken off his coat every day for some ten years now. He'd touched his own skin in these exact places a number of times in his life. Why did it feel so different now? Why was it so… good? When Demyx leaned in close, he flinched at the feeling of warm breath on his neck. He gripped the arms of the chair tightly, holding his breath as chills coursed through his veins.

Demyx giggled softly, endeared by Zexion's nervous disposition and delighted to see the usually calm apprentice's practiced composure falter so easily. "Relax, dude, I'm not gonna hurt you."

Zexion took a breath, then another. "S-Sorry…"

Demyx approached him once more, laying a hand on his knee and gently kissing his neck. Warmth spread from every touch of his lips, as if Zexion's blood had turned to magma. His focus shifted between every new sensation; the slow trickle of sweat on his chest, the gentle brush of Demyx's lips on his skin, the seductive crawl of his hand up his thigh — it was hard to keep up with them all.

Before he could make sense of them, a new sensation joined the fray. It wasn't entirely foreign to him; it had happened before, plenty of times. But knowing that this was the first time anything would be done about it was so enticing that he could barely keep still. That familiar, uncomfortable tightness between his legs was unlike any he'd felt before. It was almost alarming to see it this way, to feel that tension, that ache. He was so wrapped up in how it felt to want this that he almost forgot to feel embarrassed or vulnerable.

Demyx tracked his way up the novice's jaw until finally meeting his lips. Zexion had never been kissed before, and was at a loss as to how he should reciprocate. Demyx graciously took the reins, allowing him to sit back and enjoy it. It was rather gentle at first — as if the musician were simply testing the waters. He was slow with his movements, giving Zexion the time to experience them in their entirety. The man was certainly creative with his techniques, boldly introducing his tongue and his teeth. Altogether, it wasn't a bad first kiss. It was wetter than Zexion had imagined. Sloppier. He could certainly tell Demyx had been drinking. But it wasn't unenjoyable.

Zexion was so heavily focused on the kiss that he'd forgotten the playful squeezes to his thigh. He gasped as Demyx's hand ceased its agonizingly slow climb, having finally reached its destination. The intensity was unreal. No one had touched him there before. He hadn't even done so himself. Not like this. For a moment, he wondered if he should regret never exploring himself in this manner, now understanding what he'd been missing. He stiffened further as Demyx's fingers gently grazed between his legs while playfully nibbling the tip of his tongue. The tension was bordering on painful now, and he was soon reaching for the zipper of his pants with shaking hands, desperate for relief.

Mercifully, Demyx pulled away from his mouth to let him breathe while he went to work on his belt for him. He made quick work of sliding his pants out of the way, taking a moment to admire the fully-aroused appendage he'd released from its leather prison. He examined it for awhile, staring with a wide-eyed but unreadable expression. Zexion blushed, his anxieties set in motion as he tried to decipher what the man might be thinking. Was he impressed? Intimidated? Repulsed? Zexion couldn't decide which would have been worse.

It seemed that Demyx approved, since he was soon touching him much more deliberately. He handled it masterfully, causing the apprentice to squirm beneath him. Zexion tried to watch, taking mental notes, learning about himself at the same time. He discovered that some spots were more sensitive than others. Certain places made him twitch and writhe. Every jump in the intensity shocked him. Was it like this for everyone? How could anyone stand it?

Biting his lip and clenching his jaw, he barely stifled a whimper. Taking note, Demyx repeated his motion, and Zexion threw his head back and closed his eyes, panting at the slow pull of his hand. His fingers were strong and dexterous; a testament to his musicianship. Ever the master of improvisation, he effortlessly learned just which spots could raise the hairs on the back of Zexion's neck, and he frequently returned to those spots while exploring him.

"Having fun?"

Zexion was far too breathless to answer. He stared at Demyx in shock, hoping to convey his answer with only his facial expression. He must have understood, since he giggled in response and gave him a playful warning. "Good, 'cause I'm about to kick it up a notch."

Zexion had no time to contemplate what he meant by this, as Demyx had no sooner finished his sentence than he wrapped his lips tightly around him, taking a sizeable portion into his mouth. The pleasure was so intense that it sent jolts through Zexion's body. So surprised was he by the powerful surge of heat and pressure that his torso thrashed and his hips bucked compulsively. He clenched his fists tightly, his chest heaving as he whimpered and moaned at every skillful stroke of Demyx's tongue. He could barely stand to watch. The things Demyx did with his mouth were positively dirty, but in this moment, Zexion wished for nothing more than to be scandalized.

At Demyx's mercy, Zexion slowly lost control of his body and mind, gradually succumbing entirely to his carnal desires. Every gasp, every sound, every spasm was an involuntary reaction to the pleasure, completely instinctive and unrestrained. Demyx drank it all in as he greedily devoured the scientist, inch by quivering, throbbing inch. Beads of sweat formed on Zexion's forehead as he fought to control his lust. There was a static inside him that seemed to grow louder and louder with every touch. Awestruck, he watched as Demyx sank his lips ever deeper onto him without missing a beat, thoroughly impressed with his proficiency. The musician cycled through his bag of tricks, each one more sinful than the last, rarely coming up for air.

Zexion could have melted from the heat of his own arousal. His muscles seemed to go numb, and warmth spread from deep within his core to the farthest reaches of his extremities. His usually superior brain had all but shut down — all that occupied his mind now were obscene, bestial thoughts and raw desire. He used to think himself above this primal nonsense, but now he couldn't get enough of it. That static inside him had reached a deafening volume, screaming for release from the very depths of his being. He reached for Demyx, needing to touch him, any part of him he could get his hands on. Demyx gleefully obliged, rising to his feet and pulling Zexion up along with him.

The two stood there in the dark lab for several minutes just caressing each other by the light of the computer screens. Demyx planted kisses all over Zexion's neck and chest, backing him into the desk and pressing his body firmly into him. Intimidated, Zexion froze in place as Demyx overpowered him in his weakened state. He supposed the man was trying to take the encounter to its next logical step. Of course, this was what he'd come here for. Zexion figured he was being given an extremely obvious signal to do something, but could only stare, unsure how to move things along. Demyx, displaying remarkable patience with the rookie, took his hands and guided them to his own belt buckle. Zexion recognized his cue at last and obeyed the silent command, removing Demyx's remaining clothes with trembling hands, nervously averting his gaze from the man's groin. In response, Demyx gently turned his face by the chin, forcing the young apprentice to look at the newly-disrobed musician.

"So timid. What are you afraid of?" He whispered seductively in a voice Zexion had never heard from him. He now spoke with a deep and raspy tone, completely different from his normal speaking voice. His eyes narrowed with curiosity at Zexion's apprehension.

"What? I don't know what you're talking about…"

Demyx laced his fingers through Zexion's hair and, with a sharp tug, drew him closer, grinding his bony hips against him. Zexion gasped at the sudden pain from his powerful grip, surprised to find that he had actually enjoyed it.

"You can't fool me, Zexion. I'm smarter than I look."

Zexion sighed, unable to articulate his disorganized thoughts, distracted by Demyx's lean figure nudging into his pelvis. In truth, he was terrified, but struggled to understand just why. He was familiar enough the mechanics of what was to be done. He was aware of his position and where his placement would be and how things were going to be accomplished. In technical terms, he had it all figured out, yet he still felt completely lost. He experienced no anxiety over performing the act itself, as a man might feel if he lacked the necessary confidence to satisfy his partner. Or perhaps he did. He didn't suppose he suffered from any of the typical first-time jitters one might feel when young and inexperienced. Or perhaps he did. Being without a heart, he couldn't fathom why he felt anything right now.

"Demyx… to put it simply, I don't know what I'm doing."

After a split second of processing Zexion's response, Demyx laughed out loud. "Is that all?! Nerves?! Come on, dude, I'm not expecting you to change my life. I'm just here to blow a load and go to sleep. No strings, no pressure. Now chill out, will ya?"

Zexion was silent, absorbing Demyx's words and appreciating the logic of his argument. He had a good point — he knew what he was getting into when he seduced Zexion, of all people. If Demyx wanted someone with experience, he would have chosen another partner. Shocked by how easily Demyx could calm his nerves, Zexion smiled with gratitude. At least he'd be taken care of.

Wasting no time, Demyx pinned him by the wrists onto the cold metal desk, kissing him eagerly in an attempt to restore the steamy atmosphere. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe Demyx was lousy his first time, too. It eased Zexion's mind to see how attentive the man was being. Demyx pulled away from the kiss for a moment and Zexion settled on his back, just breathing. And breathing. And breathing. He tried not to look at Demyx, unsure if he wanted to know the man's size, but his curiosity got the better of him and he stole a brief glance.

Although Demyx was not disproportionately large — much to Zexion's relief — he was by no means small. Zexion swallowed hard, trying not to stare. The musician was touching himself, coating his skin with a slick gel. That's nice of him, Zexion thought. How considerate. Of course it was probably necessary. Zexion had almost forgotten the small detail that was almost always mentioned when discussing sex — the first time hurts. He gulped. When Demyx had finished, the apprentice got his first unobstructed look at it and recoiled slightly. That was the moment that it hit him, and he felt himself clench with anticipation.

"You're adorable," Demyx chuckled, climbing onto the desk and settling between his knees. "Calm down, man, I'm gonna go slow."

He advanced on the young scientist with his hips, prodding at him impatiently as he traced his fingers up and down Zexion's pulsing erection. Trapped in place, Zexion squirmed desperately as he clasped around him with a strong grip. The friction of each stroke was nearly unbearable, and he struggled, whimpering breathlessly, against the restraints imposed by the musician's powerful body. If nothing else, this welcome treatment would distract him from the pain he knew was coming. He closed his eyes, trying to force himself to relax and accept it. It wasn't working. He didn't know how to manipulate these muscles consciously. He couldn't even tell where they were.

He tensed further as he felt Demyx solicit him again with more urgency. The man was gentle and patient as he waited for the apprehensive novice to yield. Gliding his hands along Zexion's glistening torso, he leaned down and circled his tongue around his nipples, brushing his lips over them with the lightest touch. Zexion shuddered at his precision, emitting a soft, shakey moan as he felt his locked muscles release. His eyes widened, and he trembled with excitement. He wasn't ready. But he was. He wanted it. Nerves or not, he wanted it. He spread his thighs to accommodate Demyx's presence, offering himself to the dominating musician.

His submission set Demyx in motion, and with considerable restraint, he gently eased himself inside. His penetration was slow and deliberate, careful to handle the fragile apprentice delicately. In an instant, Zexion had confirmed everything he'd heard about this. All those people who had described their first time were right. It hurt. It hurt more than he thought it would. Wincing for every centimeter he inserted, Zexion accepted Demyx with determination, enduring the pain with watering eyes and gritted teeth. He held his breath and squeezed his eyes shut as he took in the entire length of him, until finally the motion ceased and he was given time to adjust.

Demyx, clenching his fists with the effort of remaining still for Zexion's sake, bent down to press his lips into his neck. "It's in," he whispered. "You okay?"

It was when he tried to answer that Zexion realized he wasn't breathing. "I'm… Yes. It…"

"Hurts?"

"Yes," his tone was strained. "It's just new. I'll be fine…"

The smile Demyx flashed him was surprisingly soft, almost sympathetic in nature. "It'll stop. I promise. You're gonna have fun, too."

He's so thoughtful. Demyx didn't move for several minutes, doting on him with all the kisses and caresses he could manage from such a position. Zexion could see how desperately the man wanted to continue, yet he stayed in place just to make him more comfortable. It was shocking how gentle he could be. Zexion had never seen this side of him, and was pleased with the introduction.

The pain had mostly cleared away, and Demyx finally began with slow, repetitive motions as he rocked his hips into him. It wasn't bad. It was quite different, maybe even weird, but not bad. He could at least tell that Demyx was enjoying himself. The look on his face was so intense that Zexion had to look away, fearing that the man's stare would pierce right through his forehead. But seeing the longing in his eyes gave him a chill, and in Demyx's moment of vulnerability, he reached behind the musician and dug his fingernails into the clammy flesh of his back, clawing at him in an expression of desperate yearning. Demyx promised he would have fun, and Zexion was more than ready to do so.

His enthusiasm broke Demyx's hold, and with a loud grunt from both men he reared back and thrust himself into Zexion as far as he could reach. The pain was intense, but the pleasure even more so. It was unexpected - a deep, powerful sensation inside him that he'd never felt before. It activated something just beneath the surface of his skin, that same static that built in his muscles, fizzling out of control. Demyx knew what he was doing. Whatever spot that was, Demyx knew how to get to it, and Zexion lost himself a little more every time it was touched.

He let his head drop onto the desk as Demyx picked up the pace. The heat from their bodies had begun to fog up the smooth brushed metal of the desk's surface. The dim glow of the computer screens cast graceful shadows over their pale skin. For quite some time, neither man said a word, their minds and mouths occupied with their shared end goal. The only sounds in the room were the soft whir of the computers, the shuffling of the papers and equipment on the desk, and the moans and heavy breathing from the two.

Zexion continued to surprise himself as he discovered the depths to which his libido reached. He would never have guessed that buried under the facade that was his composed, professional demeanor lay a ferocious appetite for physical gratification. Demyx grew more animalistic as the encounter drew on, thrusting fervently into his writhing form. The pain had gone and been replaced with an ecstasy to which nothing could compare, and his head was swimming from the high. The pleasure moved through him in waves, crashing at his core and sending him soaring. Never before had he been so consumed by pure wanton lust that he lost himself in bliss. He sincerely hoped that no one outside the lab could hear him.

As Demyx laid into him, the sensual roll of his hips grinding against him, the apprentice became aware of a peculiar vibrating sensation building inside him. That static. It was getting louder. There was a mounting pressure in his pelvis, like an over-filled balloon threatening to pop. It spread through his body in rippling spasms, with not one muscle left untouched. It was intense. It was frightening. Was this…? He recognized this feeling immediately. Panicking, his mind filled with questions. Did he have to do anything? Would it just happen on its own? Should he fight it away to prolong the encounter? Should he announce the occasion or remain silent? Should he close his eyes or leave them open?

"Demyx… I think I'm—!"

"Shh, don't talk. You'll ruin the moment."

It was clear that Demyx knew what was happening, as he fixed his gaze on Zexion's face, watching him intently as he increased the speed and intensity of his thrusts. The spasms in Zexion's body grew more violent every second as the pressure continued to build. His chest pounded and his breaths turned heavy. His hips bucked and his legs convulsed. His back arched and his eyes widened. Time had run out, and he scolded himself for becoming momentarily distracted by his anxiety. It was too good to be afraid of it. He closed his eyes and let go, hoping he would find his way back to the ground after the flight.

The static burst with a chilling burn through his body. The pressure grabbed him and dragged him away into pure euphoria. With an explosive shout, the waves crashed violently in his center as the pressure finally released with a forceful shooting sensation. Every muscle clenched enormously as he let himself be overwhelmed by the blinding ecstasy, the warmth washing over him until he could drown in it. His climax was accompanied by a series of sonorous moans and cries of delight, and he twitched and spasmed for several seconds while the intensity faded. Gradually, the forceful squeezing in his muscles released and he collapsed onto the desk, panting and soaked. In shock, he lay motionless and silent as the realization of what had just happened flooded into his mind. So this was what an orgasm felt like. This was why people bothered with sex. His eyes, once blind, were opened. Now he understood. He understood with perfect clarity.

Demyx chuckled as he watched the newcomer melt into a puddle beneath him, satisfied with his work. "Heh… Feel better?"

Zexion, still speechless, could only stare wide-eyed at the man, completely at a loss. He lacked the energy required to even just lift his head or move a single limb. His vision was still blurred with sweat, and his mind still spun with the chaos of his climax. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words emerged.

"Need a tissue, dude? Looks like you need the whole box."

Zexion looked down at his torso, covered in a sticky substance, the product of their coupling. He stared in disbelief at the tremendous volume he had managed to produce.

What a mess…

He propped himself up on his elbows, inspecting the damage as the fog in his mind began to clear. He was unsure of what should happen now. Was he supposed to say something? What does one say after an encounter such as this? "Demyx—"

"Hey, whatever you do, don't thank me. Thanks are classified under 'making it weird.' Don't make it weird."

Zexion chortled at Demyx's joke before finishing his interrupted thought. "I believe… now, it's your turn?"

Demyx stiffened with excitement at Zexion's reminder. A surge of arousal flashed in his eyes, pleasantly surprised to hear that Zexion wanted to keep going. "Whoa! All right, baby, round two. Turn over."

Demyx removed himself from Zexion just long enough for him to assume the position requested of him. He entered the apprentice once more, pulling him in by the hips as he plunged into him. He went at a moderate pace, careful not to injure the freshly deflowered scientist. Zexion, now on his knees, pressed his forehead into the desk as he received Demyx's enthusiastic thrusts. There was pain again, as he felt Demyx reaching even deeper inside of him, but the pleasure only intensified with this new orientation. He was surprised to see that he'd maintained his aroused state, even so long after he had finished. He could have sworn he'd read that once the climax was over, that was the end. Could he possibly be capable of a second one?

Demyx must have also taken notice of Zexion's persistent hardness, as he reached around him to grasp it tightly. The intensity struck him once again, so strong that his whole body twitched violently. The sensitivity had increased to where just a brush of his fingertips was far too much, but Demyx mercilessly squeezed Zexion until he saw stars, delighting in his agonized reactions. He throbbed powerfully between his palm and fingers, so intensely pleasurable that it took his breath away, but still, Demyx did not let go. Zexion's face contorted with pain and pleasure, and he grunted loudly as he enthusiastically welcomed Demyx into him.

Demyx gradually accelerated until he audibly clapped against Zexion's backside. He was almost feral in how roughly he handled the young novice, digging into his supple flesh, yanking his hair until his scalp ached, and throwing a series of playful smacks to his behind. The pleasure was astounding, and Zexion could already feel the familiar spasms returning. Unable to contain himself, he replaced Demyx's hand with his own, bringing himself over the edge almost instantly. Demyx took him by the shoulder and pulled him upright, pressing into his back as he drove into the writhing apprentice.

A rush of euphoria spilled over him once more and he exploded a second time with a dizzying intensity. The strength of his subsequent climax carried him away, and he endeavored to make a show of it for Demyx's benefit. He wore his throat out from his breathless moaning, rolling his hips on Demyx's lap and firing his second shot halfway across the room.

Demyx leaned in and sank his teeth into Zexion's nape. "I'm gonna come."

This was something Zexion had put no thought into. He supposed it would feel better for Demyx to finish inside him. After everything he'd done, he deserved that much, and there would be a mess either way. But what would it feel like? Would it be pleasurable? Would it be gross? "Okay," he answered, winded. "Sh-Should I do something?"

Demyx snickered against his shoulder, tightly digging his fingers into his waist. "Say my name."

Zexion arched an eyebrow. "Huh?"

Demyx repeated himself more urgently. "Say my name, Zexion."

It was such a simple request. An odd one, but simple. But still Zexion froze, unsure why it seemed so difficult in the moment. Thankfully, Demyx prompted him with a deep, impatient thrust, so shocking that Zexion could not help but gasp his name, quietly enough to be intimate, loudly enough to be impassioned. "Demyx…!"

His performance triggered Demyx's peak at last. Wrapping his surprisingly powerful arms around Zexion and pulling him closer, he threw all of his weight into his last few thrusts. He finally came into Zexion with a string of deep, raspy grunts. The sounds he made were so arousing that Zexion feared he'd never go flaccid again. Demyx was climaxing and it was all because of him. He brought him to that climax. He had made this man feel such pleasure that he lost all control. Zexion could feel it - all of it. It was strange. It was warm. It was oddly satisfying. He could certainly get used to it.

Demyx finally slowed to a stop as the pulsing died down. As soon as he vacated Zexion, they both collapsed onto the frigid tile floor, panting. Neither man was able to move or speak for several minutes. Zexion lay on his side, letting his mind spin as it tried to process the evening's events. There was so much information, he didn't know where to begin. He learned that he could be attracted to men. He learned how he liked to be touched. He learned what sex - real, adult sex felt like. He learned how it felt to come and come hard. Most surprising of all, he learned about Demyx. Drunk or not, Demyx found him attractive. Demyx had a gentler, more seductive side that perhaps only Zexion had seen. Zexion learned how to bring him to the same heights. His thoughts didn't slow down for a moment, but he settled on one conclusion that made something in his chest leap with the thrill of it. Zexion learned what it was like to be wanted. He learned that Demyx wanted him. And he learned that he wanted Demyx.

Demyx leaned against the wall, struggling to keep his eyes open. He managed to catch his breath after a short time and called out to the apprentice in a humorous tone. "Yo, Zexion, you gonna live, buddy? How do you feel?"

Zexion, completely drained of energy, remained still and silent, having failed to slow his breathing at all.

"Speechless, huh? Am I that good?"

As Demyx rose to re-dress himself, Zexion finally caught his breath enough to give Demyx the most appropriate response he could think of. "Don't make it weird."

The longer Axel battled with his chronic bouts of insomnia, the earlier morning seemed to come each day. He lamented his situation, pining for the languid, restful man he used to be. So great was his love for sleep that he could spend hours, even days in dreamland, but now he struggled to rest for even twenty minutes at a time on most nights. He wished he could understand why, considering Roxas had long since recovered and was in relatively good health and better spirits. There was simply nothing left to keep him awake.

Now, in the early hours of the morning, he attempted to wake himself up as he lounged on the sofa to wait for Roxas. Being one of the first few to enter the Grey Area, Axel took the opportunity to people-watch as the rest of his comrades sleepily trickled in, yawning and rubbing their eyes. Saïx stood looking out the window with a blank expression, as usual. The scene was just like any other morning for Organization XIII.

Thinking it must be too early for his fellow members to engage in social interaction, Axel decided he'd bite the bullet and go obtain his mission briefing. Just as he was about to rise from the sofa, he glanced up to see Zexion enter the room, looking surprisingly sleepless and unkempt. Now we're talking, he thought to himself, eager to hear about what sort of night Zexion must have had to make him look so uncharacteristically disheveled today.

"Good morning, Zexion! How are— whoa. You look terrible. Rough night?"

Zexion trudged to a nearby chair, wincing as he slowly lowered himself into it. "You could say that."

Axel leaned closer to him, intrigued. "Didn't sleep?"

Zexion had lowered his head in his hands, pressing his fingers into his forehead and rubbing away an apparent headache. "I had work to do."

Work, huh? "What a good little teacher's pet you are. All for the good of the cause!"

"Piss off, Axel."

"Touchy! I'm just messing with you, man. I know what you were really up to."

Zexion's head shot up at these words. He stared at Axel, his already pale face turning an even lighter shade of white. "Wh-What do you mean?"

Axel chuckled lightly at his plight. "Come on, it's written all over your face. You got laid, dude! I'm so happy for you!"

"Shh! Will you keep it down—!"

"Gosh, they grow up so fast… So, who was it?"

Zexion's face flushed at Axel's prying, shifting uncomfortably in his chair with a flustered expression. "It was a good book. Now lay off me."

Axel shook his head with a playful grin, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "All right, all right, it's none of my business. I'll just be over here, watching everybody walk in and see which one makes your hair stand up."

Zexion heaved an exasperated sigh with his face in his palms. Axel, hoping to spread some cheer his way, lightened his tone and backed off on his humor, not wishing to seriously upset the young apprentice.

"Hey man, I'm only playing. Don't be mad. Whoever it was must be pretty good, 'cause it looks like they rocked your world. I'm jealous!"

"Is it really so noticeable?"

"Only to pros like me," Axel assured him. "To everyone else, you just look like you haven't slept in a week. And ran a marathon on your way here."

"I think I'll go back to bed."

"Ha! Take me with you! It's gotta be my turn some time right?"

"See you later, Axel."

With noticeable difficulty, he lifted himself out of the chair, wincing again. After taking a moment to steady himself, he stiffly traipsed back to the doorway and disappeared into the hall, passing by Roxas on his way out. Roxas, looking sluggish but content, approached Axel with a warm smile.

"'Morning, Axel."

"Roxas! Good morning! How are you today?"

Roxas sat beside Axel on the sofa, crossing his arms in front of him and absentmindedly glancing around the room. "I'm alright. How about you?"

"Only fantastic today. Did you sleep good?"

"Yeah, I guess so. Hey, what was up with Zexion?"

Axel shrugged with a puzzled expression. "Says he doesn't feel good today. I'm betting he just stayed up all night working and now he's given himself a migraine."

Roxas responded with an understanding nod. "That's too bad."

"Happens to the best of us. So, ready to go see what our mission's gonna be today?"

"Sure. Let's go."

Roxas took a few moments to maneuver himself off the sofa. Axel eyed him curiously, but figured it would be best not to ask questions and hopped up to join him on their way over to get their mission briefing from Saïx. As expected, he addressed them with an attitude just slightly above contempt, listing off the details of their mission with a bored tone before sending them on their way.

"And Roxas… do not overexert yourself. We wouldn't want you getting hurt in your condition."

Roxas, irritated with Saïx's false concern and unnecessary coddling, returned to the sofa without looking back at him. He loathed being treated as if he were fragile, like some delicate porcelain doll threatening shatter if one so much as blew on him. He despised how people walked on eggshells around him now, performing their poorly-rehearsed displays of caring and compassion, wearing human emotions like masks that they removed as soon as he was out of earshot. Most of all, he hated the new reality of his physical limitations and he hated having attention drawn to them, and Saïx knew that quite well.

Axel hurried over to Roxas, taking his place on the sofa beside him while trying to think of something to say to cool down his friend's anger. "Roxas… don't let him get to you. Remember, he's following orders from Xemnas, too—"

"It's fine. I get it. It'd be a shame to break the new lab rat."

"Roxas…"

"Really, Axel, I'm fine. Let's just go."

Defeated, Axel dropped the conversation and was just getting up to leave when he was suddenly approached by Demyx.

"Yo! Axel! 'Morning, dude!"

"Uh… hey, Demyx. You're unusually chipper this morning. What's up?"

"Man, I've got this wicked hangover. You seen Zexion? He's gotta have something for this headache…"

Axel peered at him quizzically, stroking his chin as he contemplated the odd request. Demyx's hangovers were a regular occurrence, and Axel knew all too well what they looked like on him, but today he appeared perfectly fine. His skin glowed and his eyes sparkled brightly, with no trace of pain, illness, or fatigue in any of his features. In fact, he almost looked happy. It wasn't long before the pieces clicked into place and a lightbulb flicked on in Axel's head. With a mischievous grin, he patted Demyx on the shoulder as he drew out his answer. "Oh gosh, I'm so sorry, Demyx! You just missed him! He said he didn't feel well and was going back to bed. And let me tell you, he looked positively wrecked."

Demyx, slow on the uptake, gasped with concern for the young apprentice. "Aw man, you mean he's sick?"

Axel wrapped an arm around his shoulders, feigning pity and sympathy in an over-the-top performance. "Oh goodness, yes. Very sick. I tell you, that poor boy could barely walk! Oh, the suffering…!"

Demyx gaped at Axel with confusion for a few seconds before the message between the lines became clear for him. His puzzled expression slowly shifted to one of delight as he played along with Axel's short drama. "Oh my! How dreadful! I guess I should leave him be, then, if he's so frightfully ill…"

"What a shame it would be if you were to succumb to the same wretched plague! Bless his heart, I hope he survives this…"

"Well, golly gee, maybe I should go and check on him? Just to make sure he's still alive?"

"Oh, Demyx, you brave soul, risking your own health for the sake of your brethren. So charitable and kind! They just don't make gentlemen like you anymore…"

They both collapsed into hysterical laughter, to the questioning and suspicious looks of the other members who witnessed their impromptu comedy. When they managed to catch their breaths, Demyx turned to head back out into the hall, wrapping up the show with Axel.

"Well, I'd better hurry, I may already be too late!"

"Do bring him my regards, dear friend! Safe journey!"

The two fist-bumped and Demyx took off out of the room while Axel dramatically waved. When he was gone, he turned around to look for Roxas so that they could leave. Saïx was staring at him with his same cold expression, clearly confused and annoyed by the presentation he had just witnessed. He opened his mouth to speak, prepared to interrogate Axel about the obnoxious display, but hesitated and closed it again, resigning himself to letting his curiosity go unsatisfied.

"... on second thought, I don't want to know. Proceed with your mission."

Axel giggled as he returned to the sofa, offering a hand up for Roxas.

"What was that all about?"

Axel summoned up a corridor to darkness and gestured for his friend to enter with a sly smile. "I'll tell you when you're older."