"Feel This" and the general concept of "Feel This" is completely copyright Orin Drake 2006. All characters contained within and terms like "Organization XIII" are owned by Square-Enix and Disney.
WARNING: Violence. Possibly for no reason at all. I honest can't really tell.
Background: Since this doesn't at all fit in with my other drabbles, I'm posting it seperately. Not even going to try to blame this on anyone. grin A writer who is much more talented than I am was made some open requests for fics... one of those being Demyx/Xigbar... And I was all prepared to attempt the pairing for the first time and... and... this happened. ...Well, I like it, but I'm not going to force it on anyone else (heh). I had a hard weekend dealing with annoying things, so... yeah. This is... weird.
Feel This
by Orin Drake
The freeshooter sighed, sounding tired and angry--but of course he couldn't be. "Still on about that bullshit, kid? Give it a rest. We don't have hearts."
Demyx stared at him for a moment, his usual silly countenance wavering slightly--but not completely. "I do."
It wasn't Xigbar's laughter that triggered Demyx. He was used to that, really. It was how the laughter was so... fake. False. It was neither truly taunting nor bitter--just empty. The water mage... snapped.
The older man didn't even see it coming. Sitar summoned faster than any of them thought able, the instrument collided with the side of Xigbar's chest and knocked him down with a combination of sheer force and surprise.
"And this is for looking at me that way." Another swing, another crashing crunching twang--
And Xigbar, simply, took it. He didn't so much as raise his hands in defense, feeling the bones and the unreal wood of the sitar connecting. There was nothing but the snapping, but the sound and the pressure and the unreal rage in the voice and the eyes and--
"Do you feel this!" the musician screamed, instrument over his head once again. He used every ounce of power in his body, swinging, crashing--
The freeshooter found his breath short, an odd sort of tightness in his throat. It wasn't just his bones crushed, muscle torn and bloodied--
"How does this feel, Xigbar?" Demyx roared, arms aching. He simply kept swinging, hitting, brutally raining his anger and hurt and dammit why couldn't the man feel anything--
A sound. Soft, squeaking, fleeting--but a sound. A plea. A yip of hurt.
The water mage stopped abruptly, sitar disappearing back from whence it came. He stared down at the man, broken and bleeding, shivering--but it was nothing an armful of potions and some cure spells couldn't fix. He may have more scars after, but that was hardly of importance.
"D--... D-Demyx..." Xigbar coughed, spat blood and a shard of tooth. "Thank... you."
