More from Vexen's point of view with Marluxia bottoming...because I should try and write more of that...if nothing else, Vexen's point of view, Marluxia's head is fun to get into...but so is Vexen's.

This is a particularly drabble-y one too by the way, barely holding onto a theme/point.


Speculations


Not much was known about the lives of the neophytes' Somebodies…the lives of the Elder's Somebodies had all ended up so intertwined there wasn't much they didn't know about each other, but for various reasons…usually a lack of caring…not much had been found out about their newer members.

It was suspected that Xemnas knew almost everything about Saix, but then…a lot was expected about Xemas and Saix, more than Vexen really cared to go into. He didn't even want to know the details behind the things he knew without a doubt were happening, such as Zexion's almost childlike (creepily enough, considering what it was they did) attachment to Lexaeus, or how faithfully Number Eight followed around after their youngest member. He actually preferred to know as little as possible about anyone these days, despite his naturally inquisitive nature. Knowing things often lead to disappointment, or even put oneself into dangerous situations…like the one he found himself in with Number Eleven.

Marluxia was a particularly vexing creature…and how he hated that particular description, mainly due to Xigbar's amusement at calling him 'vexing Vexen' but he couldn't really think of anything else to call Marluxia. He was most always arrogant and detached, quite obviously thinking himself better than the others, no matter what his status in the Organization actually was. He had a somewhat cruel nature, though it was nothing compared to Larxene's outwardly wicked one. He was a gentleman, of all things, elegant and refined even if and as he was forced to take lives and ruin lives in the process. He was disdainful of anything that was not something he considered vital or important, and this included much of Vexen's work and the majority of the older man's habits and mannerisms…Vexen ate too quickly and too infrequently, Vexen stayed up too late, Vexen had bad posture, Vexen complained too much, Vexen seriously needed to get his libido in sync with Marluxia's…

…and that was what it came down to, wasn't it? The relationship that had been built, sadly enough, not on any phantom memories of devotion or companion ship like so many of the others had to justify their favoritism of others in the Organization, but for the baser, primal need for release, that was, interestingly enough not a memory at all and still very necessary, perhaps even more so now that there was so much else they couldn't feel.

Marluxia was, for the most part, a narcissistic, hedonistic, overgrown child who'd only been saved from his own self-loving, self pleasuring nature by the warrior's code he'd somehow been forced into in his earlier life, giving him some semblance of order and self-restraint…and he was remarkably self-restrained as it turned out. Had he been able to have his own way he'd have probably lived like a prince, living on fine foods and exotic company while having his every whim catered to…he'd simply laughed when Vexen had informed him of this, asking if there was anyone who wouldn't…Vexen had tartly replied that he wouldn't. He just wanted to be left alone so he could explore the scientific field. Marluxia had just smiled and shook his head at that, tapping Vexen's nose while correcting him…the only company he wanted, he promised, was Vexen. It had been Vexen's turn to laugh at that…such blatant and earnest lies Marluxia told when he was feeling sated and at ease.

Still, Vexen found he actually preferred the overbearing, intrusive and self-assuming nature to Marluxia's other…moods. Because as a Nobody he disliked change and that was Marluxia's most common state of being. He was also occasionally irrationally angry, but that Vexen found he could tolerate as well, it made sense to him. Marluxia had probably been forced into whatever lifestyle made him such a good assassin later in life, meaning he'd already grown used to a life of luxury in his early years. Being molded awkwardly into a strict lifestyle afterward would force him to choke back and restrain his feelings, causing for bursts of anger or sadness at times…now that he had no feelings, anger still remained.

What didn't make sense to Vexen was the way he was acting now. It was a rare occurrence, but one that could be detected early on. This mood usually began early in their…meetings. Marluxia liked sex and he liked everything that went with it…the tugging and clawing and noise making included…but in times like this, his movements changed. He clung more than he clawed and he choked back sounds that could have been his normally exuberant shouts, or could have been…less appealingly, small sobs or gasps. By that point Vexen knew it was coming, but wasn't sure what to do about it. He never was…getting up and leaving had never been an option, Marluxia was more unstable than ever in times like these, he was quite honestly afraid he'd be hurt for trying to. Marluxia almost seemed distressed by the end of it, but he'd always managed to at least reach his climax before it really began. Once he'd caught his breath, he'd slide out of the bed and stumble off to the bathroom to vomit in the sink…Vexen wasn't sure if this was an odd quirk to the ritual or if he just never made it to the toilet, and then he'd sink to the floor, curled around himself, completely silent.

Vexen usually gave him a few minutes…he'd learned that going immediately after him sent him into inexplicable hysterics…before going and guiding him back to the bed where Marluxia would cling with impressive strength and a near mad desperation to him, his head tucked firmly under Vexen's chin.

He wouldn't speak or make a sound and after a while he'd softly kiss Vexen's throat and drift off to sleep.

For the life (or perhaps non-life) of him, Vexen couldn't figure out an explanation for this. He supposed Marluxia could have been abused at some point in his life, which could also explain his need to be taken during sex, though he could also just prefer it with no real reason…but abuse that caused this sort of reaction would probably effect more of his actions in daily life…this odd behavior was quite rare, Vexen often managed to forget it for months at a time before it would resurface and Marluxia would revert from their princely leader to an insecure, scarred young man. The entire thing would pass by morning and Vexen suspected he might not even realize it happened.

That was truly worrisome.

Vexen didn't care to know much about the neophytes, and his relationship with Marluxia really wasn't all that complex, and didn't really warrant him delving into what could cause something that rarely happened…but in moments like this, as Marluxia pressed slightly trembling lips to his throat before shifting into a more comfortable position to sleep, Vexen found himself almost wanting to, perhaps just for the sake of pure, scientific curiosity…or perhaps for some sort of misplaced, distant memory of what it felt like to want to comfort someone dear to you.

A very misplaced, distant memory, mind you.


REVIEW PLEASE!

AND AS ALWAYS, GIVE ME WORDS FOR PROMPTS :)