Well, I've taken so long this time because I was going to post the fluffy one first for Drowning In Ice but I'm tweaking it again and again because I just can't get it right even though I had it written before I even posted the LAST one...

I think Vexen would be proud of this title. It sounds almost like a variable and really makes not much sense at all. Which is how I tend to pick answers on my science exams...this one makes the least amount of sense...and it sounds sciencey...answer B, I choose you!


The Known Unknown


The idea that Nobodies can't feel is simply ridiculous. Marluxia knows this, because Marluxia knows that he can feel.

He is in love with Vexen. He knows this and he's much more willing to trust himself than the ideas of a group of disillusioned scientists, even if one of them is the object of his affections.

Affections he's not supposed to be able to have.

He imagines sometimes, how he would tell Vexen this, should the older man ever ask. It's usually once the blonde has fallen asleep and they lay in Marluxia's bed, side by side but rarely touching, at least not by choice. At least not while there's even the slightest chance that Vexen might wake...


Tonight it's overcast but dry, the moon occasionally shining into the room through patches of clouds.

Vexen is sleeping on his back, his arms curled above his head, pressing down on the messy mass of blonde hair that sweeps across the pillows, encroaching on Marluxia's side of the bed, even if Vexen himself would not. His lips are slightly parted.

Do you love me, Marluxia?

Do I love you Vexen? What a foolish question. Of course I love you, you impossible thing. I love you so very much. I love you so much it hurts me to the point of wanting to hurt you. I love you so much I want to pull all your hair from your head, clear my bed of it, it's cold you know, I didn't know hair could be cold. It's cold and it wakes me when you move against me in your sleep. I want to pull it out, round it into a cord and slip it 'round your neck. I want to pull until it's your lips that turn blue for a change. I want those pretty parted lips to be parted in desperate strangled breaths, not peaceful sleep. I want to watch those damn toxic eyes of yours cloud over and go dull so they can't torture me anymore. Can't disapprove, sneer at, or look down upon me anymore. Why do you get to sleep so soundly while I am forced to lay here and realize how much I want to love you until you're dead?

But Vexen will not wake and he will not ask. Even if he was not sleeping…if not in peace at least in sound exhaustion…he would not ask. He doesn't believe it could be possible.


Tonight is hot, they're sleeping above the covers and in Vexen's room as it is usually a bit cooler than the rest of the castle. Vexen is on his stomach, his arms flattened at his sides, his palms up and twitching every now and then. Marluxia runs one finger down the line of his spine and then off along the curve of his right hip. Vexen shifts slightly, mumbling something that neither of them will ever decipher.

Do you love me Marluxia?

Do I love you Vexen? What a needless question. Of course I love you, you proud, foolish man. I love you so much I can't stand you. I love you so much that it infuriates me to be near you. I love you so much I want to dig my fingers into your back and rip away the flesh, I want to cover you with your own blood. I wonder, would it be warm? Or cold like the rest of you? I want to press myself against you then, kiss those wounds, though we'd both know they'll never properly heal. I want to taste you. Not like some harlequin vampire book like Larxene reads. Nothing trashy and superficial like that. No, I want to taste you like I've tasted every other part of you, with reverent loathing. And then I want to wrap my hands around your neck, paint your skin red, and then break it.

The heat makes Vexen sluggish, even when he's not just spent an exhausting two hours catering to Marluxia's sexual whims and Marluxia knows that tonight will be another silent one. Vexen won't ask him. Even if it was freezing he would not. He doesn't believe it could be true.


Tonight it is raining, pouring buckets and small domesticated animals…or something…Marluxia doesn't really listen closely to what Demyx says most of the time. Vexen is usually surprisingly receptive on rainy night and tonight has been no different. On nights like this Vexen is even willing to sleep on his side, his back pressed snugly and securely to Marluxia's chest. Marluxia is almost feeling too relaxed, sleepy and sated to play his nightly game, but when he runs two tentative fingers over Vexen's cheek, the older man flinches and Marluxia's gaze turns bitter.

Do you love me Marluxia?

Do I love you Vexen? What an utterly stupid question. Of course I love you, you wonderfully maddening creature. I love you so much I can't keep you much longer. I love you so much you've become a danger, not only because of what you've chosen to do my love, but because I almost can't bring myself to do what I know I have to and I must never let myself come to that. I love you so much I want you to die in the most horrible way your own deepest fears can conjure. I want you to die, alone, on your knees, humiliated and disrespected. I want you to burn.

Vexen rolls over, their faces almost touching, but does not wake. Even if he would, Marluxia hopes he won't. He deserves this last rest if nothing else. Besides, he'd never ask anyway. He doesn't believe it could even happen.

Right?



The morning dawns grey, as mornings here usually do and Vexen wakes slowly and quietly. Marluxia hasn't slept again; he likes to hope that this will be remedied after Vexen…leaves today. But he has the feeling that it will only get worse.

Vexen climbs out of bed and dresses in the same prolonged silence, not even the least bit bashful about his nakedness in the clouded morning sun. Of course, considering the things that they've done in the dark of night, it hardly seems as though a change of lighting would make much of an impact. He's dressed now, his hair neatly in place, his robes in order.

Marluxia usually says something here. Something snide and cocky. Today he is silent and he knows Vexen is confused by it.

"Do you have anything to say?" Vexen asks finally and oh, if he only knew the finality of those words. Do you have anything to say? Anything else for the rest of my life?

"I love you." Marluxia says solemnly, all his extra thoughts, all his death wishes suddenly gone and pointless with the realization that he's about to have them fulfilled. He might as well know the truth. No one would believe it anyway, not even Vexen himself. But still. It's almost a relief to have him know.

But now, now is Vexen's last chance to laugh at him, to scoff and walk out in a huff of indignant glory. Last chance.

Marluxia is ready for it, braced, prepared.

He is not ready for the response he receives though, those two little words that Vexen utters in his usual irritated manner before stalking out.

"I know."


if you enjoyed...or had any form of emotion attatched to this story at all (if you didn't...can I call you Xemnas?) PLEASE REVIEW