He had been waiting patiently at Charing Cross station for the train to arrive for what seemed like forever. The seconds and minutes ticked by, snail paced, on the huge station clocks. People milled, people rushed. People stopped for a coffee at Starbucks before their train came. Whilst he waited, he had a good deal of time to observe every single other person in the huge station. People he would never see again; people whose lives he would never be part of. The thought made him feel a little small. Whilst he waited, he worked on some notes for a script for a new movie their group was planning on making. He was constantly glancing up at the towering timetable, watching the train he was waiting for inch up the list as slow as the ticking clock.

Marluxia couldn't get Vexen off his mind. From the start, there'd been an instant attraction; for him, at least. But he couldn't help but worry that Vexen didn't feel the same way about him. He also worried that he was being far too forward with the other man; he knew Vexen had been (and in his eyes, still was) a virgin and probably wasn't too experienced in meeting new people either.

It seemed like he'd been waiting for hours, but finally he heard the train pull to a stop at platform 11. He quickly stood, eyes already scanning the crowd of people for Vexen. He finally picked the familiar face out from the mass and made eye contact, waving from the ticket barriers. Vexen waved back a little shyly, blushing already.

As soon as he passed the ticket barrier, Marluxia gave him a hug.

"Don't," Vexen whispered. "We're not even in a relationship,"

Marluxia smiled.

"Excuses, excuses,"

He led Vexen through the crowds of people by the hand, and they broke out of the station into the bustling central London street. All around them, people hurried and lingered and browsed and chatted, the traffic rolled by in a steady stream, pigeons observed them from every alcove and rooftop and balcony around.

Vexen barely noticed any of it. The sensation of Marluxia's warm hand in his just swept it all away. It fitted perfectly. It felt right, like their hands had been made to hold each other. If love at first sight existed, Vexen thought giddily, then this was it.

They left the busy street behind as Marluxia took Vexen into a quiet little café. They sat down on high stools at a counter facing out onto the road. For a moment, neither of them said a word, but then Vexen realised that he was staring, their hands still intertwined.

"Yeah," He said, glancing away and letting his hand fall to his side.

"So, I was meaning to ask, actually. How is it that you know Zexion?" Marluxia asked. Zexion was the host of the party just last weekend.

"We went to uni together and found out that we lived quite close. You?"

"He was a childhood friend of mine. You know Lexaeus?"

"The tall one, yes. The two of them are practically glued at the hip,"

"I was going out with him when I met Zexion. It didn't take me long to realise that they were just made for each other, so I set them up together. We kept in contact for a long time after that,"

"Wow, and they're still together. But didn't that mean you had to give up Lexaeus?" Vexen asked. Marluxia smiled a little, shrugging.

"I don't think we really suited as anything more than friends anyway. He's happier with Zexion than he could ever have been with me,"

"That's noble of you,"

"Not really. Besides, I met the cutest guy a few months later. Not that that lasted long, but you know what it's like," Marluxia shrugged again. "But enough of me. What about your past boyfriends?"

"I- I haven't had one yet," Vexen admitted quietly.

"Really?" Marluxia exclaimed. "Did your parents lock you in a box for all your life or something?"

"Well, I never had the guts to ask anybody out. And of course nobody was going to ask me, so..."

"That must have been terrible," Marluxia said, sympathy etched all over his face.

"It's okay. I just get on with my work, instead. It's not as if I don't have any friends or anything,"

Marluxia opened his mouth, thought better of whatever he was going to say, and shut it again.

"But how could you not go mad with sexual desire?"

"Uh... I just don't," Vexen replied, giving Marluxia a worried look. The other man froze, polystyrene cup half way up to his mouth.

"I didn't just say that," He finally said, putting the coffee down without drinking a drop. Vexen nodded a little awkwardly.

"Okay,"

Marluxia nursed the cup in his hands, and then finally took a sip.

"I think you ought to know now that I'm somewhat a pervert," He said.

"I did sort of notice," Vexen admitted.

"But not in the kind of paedophile rapist pervert way, just..."

"Corrupted?"

"Yeah. That's the one. I spend far too much time with Axel,"

"Axel?"

"He lives opposite me and we work together. There's no getting away from him, it seems. You'll probably meet him later,"

"Okay,"

Marluxia bought lunch for them both at the little cafe, despite Vexen's best efforts to pay for him own meal. Occasionally as they talked, there were awkward moments, but other than that the conversations flowed freely from one topic to another. Vexen was pleased to find that he had a lot in common with Marluxia - they were both perfectionists, competitive, took an interest in gardening (granted, Vexen had nothing on Marluxia who seemed to have memorised every flower recognition book ever written, Latin names included) and even did up their trousers in the same order (that had been Marluxia's question).

And also granted that Marluxia was such a pervert that he made sexual jokes not even Vexen understood (and he'd done human biology at A-level), they found that they had quite a similar sense of humour.

It was nearing two o'clock by the time they left the cafe to take the train back to Marluxia's house.

"I feel a little bad, making you do all the travelling," He said as they tried to find spaces on the busy train. "Oh, excuse me? Excuse me, sorry, just passing through, oh, couldn't you even give up your place for this nice lady and her son? Thank you, I'm sure it's no trouble, yes, no, a lollipop? For me? Thank you! Thanks so much, really, it was no problem, ah! Here we go. Free seats,"

They'd reached the end of the train and Marluxia had managed to make contact with almost every single person on the entire carriage, and had even acquired a lollipop. He offered it to Vexen, who politely declined the offer.

For a few minutes, Vexen watched out of the window as Marluxia thoughtfully sucked on the lollipop.

"So," Marluxia said absently. Vexen turned from his place watching out of the window as downtown London sped past below them.

"So..." He agreed.

"Do you feel it too?" Marluxia asked quietly, looking unsure of himself for the first time since Vexen had met him. He glanced up, and for the full eternity of a few moments, their eyes met. Vexen found himself unable to look away and the world paled in insignificance to the depths of those beautiful, blue, blue eyes.

The next sensation was soft lips pressing against his as Marluxia leant in and kissed him.

He was being kissed on the back seat of a crowded train and for a moment that didn't matter either.

----

As wonderful as the journey was, Vexen was glad when their stop, Traverston, finally pulled into view. Because the entire time, he couldn't get that niggling feeling out of his head that somehow, some little kid would walk past and be severely traumatised by seeing two men making out at the back of the carriage.

Thankfully, that didn't happen, and they disembarked hand in hand without too many odd looks, and began the walk home.

They turned a few corners and trundled past a beautiful park before finally arriving at the five-story block of flats that housed Marluxia's apartment. Just by looking at it, Vexen knew which one belonged to him. One of the sets of windows, on the third floor of four, was simply bursting with plants and flowers of all kinds.

"Welcome home," Marluxia said, typing a code into the keypad on the door and clicking the door open. They loaded Vexen's things into the lift. "Going up... Lingerie, Gynaecology, Rubber wear... Sorry. That was a shameful joke."

The lift stopped and they were greeted by a bright, boisterous man who was just leaving. He was slightly shorter than Marluxia, composed of entirely red and black, punctuated with silver and a wide smirk. Even his hair seemed to defy the usual laws of physics and colour, a scarlet shock probably capable of skewering innocent passers-by and small birds.

"Hey, Marluxia," The man said. "Is this the babe you met at the party? Not bad for Cornwall,"

"Don't be rude, Axel. I don't want you to scare him off just yet,"

"Of course. Not before you've had your kinky way with him," Axel smirked. Marluxia gave him the middle finger.

"Forgive him, Vexen. He's an idiot,"

"Pleased to meet you, too. Name's Axel. I live in the apartment opposite," Axel gestured, holding a hand out for Vexen to shake. "Don't mind me, Marluxia's not as bad as I think. At least I hope," He got into the lift. "Going down! Lingerie, Gynaecology, Rubber wear," His loud voice was audible even as the lift doors closed and descended.

"Do the people in this block always say that when they go up or down lifts?"

"The men do," Marluxia said as he unlocked his door. "The women have their own variation. Sorry, I should have warned you. About how weird the people living here can be,"

"You mean there's more than just the lingerie, rubber wear thing?"

"We have a couple of odd traditions. I guess you'll just have to wait and see. Anyway, welcome to my humble abode," He stepped out of the way to reveal the hallway, and through the open double doors, the main room. Vexen could see right through the open planned apartment to the French windows that led off to the balcony on the other side. Everywhere, there were plants. The place was almost a jungle; every shelf, every nook and corner, every spare flat surface was filled with pots housing almost every type of flower and leaf imaginable.

"I'm a bit of a collector," Marluxia admitted, closing the door behind them.

"That's amazing," Vexen said. "There's so many..."

"Some of them I've had for years," Marluxia explained. "That peace lilly was one that used to live at my old home. When I got kicked out, I took it with me, because I knew that nobody was going to water it after I left," He walked past a windowsill with a row of little cacti on it. "And these ones all have names,"

Vexen couldn't help but laugh.

"I'd keep houseplants but a basement isn't the best place to put them. So Dad and Tifa let me have free reign with the garden instead. It's a bit of a tip but I'm doing the best I can,"

"Yeah. In some ways it's easier keeping lots of plants indoors. They're easy enough to arrange and you don't need to worry about frost or droughts or whatever," Marluxia replied. "Although I'd love to have a real garden some day. Growing up in council flats, I never really had a chance to have one. But enough about me,"

They reached the kitchen.

"Do you want a drink?" Marluxia asked, opening the fridge. "I have... all this stuff," He gestured to the fridge door. "Or something from the kettle,"

"Coffee would be nice, if you have some,"

"Oh, sure. I don't like it much myself; I'm more of a tea person, but it's always good to have some hanging around in case I have a really bad morning,"

There was a peninsular unit in the middle of the kitchen with three stools around it. Marluxia set the kettle to boil and then pulled one up and sat on it with a contented sigh.

A minute or so went past.

"Marluxia?"

Marluxia glanced up at Vexen.

"Yeah?"

"I'm just wondering, you have a pretty unusual name. What does it mean?"

Marluxia shrugged.

"It doesn't. I made it up when I was little, and then legally changed it when I was nineteen, since everybody just called me Marluxia anyway," The kettle boiled and Marluxia set about making the coffee and tea. "You can sit down, you know,"

"Oh. Thanks," Vexen complied, pulling up his own stool and perching on the very edge of it. "So what was your name before?"

"Marley. Marley Brooks,"

"That's cute. Is your surname still the same?" It was odd, Vexen realised, that they still didn't know each other's surnames.

"No, Marluxia Brooks doesn't have quite the same ring to it, does it? One of my friends suggested LeVine and it stuck. It's a little pretentious, but there you go,"

Marluxia LeVine… Vexen thought. Pretentious, maybe, but it was a name nearly as beautiful as the man in question.

"It sounds a bit like a porn star's name," Vexen joked. "No offence,"

Marluxia very nearly choked on his tea.

"Th-thanks," He finally managed to mutter. Vexen apologised.

"I'm not trying to imply anything,"

"That's what they all say," Marluxia replied, some of his charismatic charm already returning after the shock. "But what about your name? I haven't heard it before,"

"I was worried you were going to ask that. I don't actually know. I looked it up, once, and the closest I could find was Even, which means through death is life,"

"Poetic,"

"Not really. Even the meaning means nothing,"

Marluxia gazed thoughtfully into his teacup, as if contemplating the meaning of life itself in the swirling milky water.

"That's kind of... depressing..."

"Sorry,"

And then Marluxia perked up in his seat like an enthusiastic child.

"Anyway. You still haven't said much about yourself..."

----

Several hours later, and they'd migrated into Marluxia's spacious bedroom. Vexen was hardly surprised to find that the room had a pink (although somehow not overtly feminine, somewhat like the man in question) colour scheme, and was, just like the rest of the apartment, filled with plants. The main piece of furniture was, also unsurprisingly, the bed; a frilly, bouncy affair, double, although half of it was covered with pillows and cushions. Among them was a small threadbare rabbit.

"My uncle gave it to me when I was born," Marluxia had explained as he bounced onto the bed. "See? He even stitched my name into her foot. Of course, he spelt it wrong, and the rabbit's pink because he thought I was a girl, but still. I haven't the heart to throw her out,"

Opposite the bed was a large flat screen television on the wall. The bedside table was covered with all things ranging from an old video recorder to the shiny new Play Station 3 on the top. Windowsill to the left, door and desk to the right. It was a pretty room.

Vexen had started off perched on the very edge of the bed, but somehow they'd ended up sprawled out over it, certain limbs entangled, facing the TV. They'd talked almost ceaselessly since arriving, about anything and everything; likes, dislikes, opinions, beliefs, the past, the present, the future.

One of the most interestingly prominent and engrossing subjects was sex. Marluxia, it turned out, was a pro (although Vexen assumed not literally) and unwittingly willing to recount all kinds of anecdotes and titbits about it. Anybody else, Vexen mused, and he would be glowing red with embarrassment discussing last minute makeshift lubrication, but with Marluxia it was... different. Well, it was still embarrassing, but it was also funny.

Another thing Marluxia quickly found out was that Vexen didn't consider his life nearly interesting enough to actually say anything about it. Thus, despite Marluxia's best efforts, he was the one talking most of the time.

Eventually bodily functions caught up with them, and since Marluxia adamantly maintained that he couldn't cook, pizza was ordered.

The doorbell had just rung downstairs when there was a knock on the door. Marluxia opened it to reveal Axel, somehow dressed even more extreme than before.

"Hey, Mar. Coming out tonight?"

"I thought I'd already told you no," Marluxia replied, gesturing to the bedroom door where Vexen was still waiting.

"Might have changed your mind. Xigbar's not happy. We were gonna do a publicity stunt all over the floor," Axel shrugged. "Got any eyeliner? I can't find mine,"

"Sure," Marluxia led him over to the bathroom. "What colour do you want?"

"Got any red?"

"Yeah. Do you want me to put it on for you? You're useless at these things,"

"Thanks, Mar. You're a lifesaver," Axel leaned forwards as Marluxia prodded him with the little stick.

Marluxia shrugged.

"One day you'll have to live without me doing your make up and your hair and your clothes... There. Do you want me to redo your tears? They're getting faded," Marluxia pulled a purple eyeliner pencil out of the drawer. It only took him a few strokes to get the odd marks on Axel's face back to their normal vibrant colour.

"Thanks. I'll repay you sometime," Axel promised.

"No offence, but I'd like to keep my eyes for at least a couple more years,"

"Hey! That was low!"

"Payback for the getting kinky with Vexen comment earlier?"

"Fine. Fine. But I gotta ask,"

Marluxia looked confused as they both left the apartment, Axel to go out and Marluxia to collect the pizza.

"What do you mean?"

"Well? Have you got kinky with Vexen yet?"

"Of course not! It's not that kind of relationship,"

Axel stopped, and Marluxia had gone several steps further down the stairs before he noticed.

"Marluxia, don't be stupid. Of course it's that kind of relationship. All your relationships are,"

"Vexen's different,"

Axel shook his head with a condescending smile.

"You still haven't learnt, Mar. People don't love you for long erudite conversations behind a cup of tea, or dreamy, cosy evenings curled up together. That's bullshit. The only thing people want from people like us-" He gestured to both of them in one fluid movement, "Is hot, steamy, glorious sex. Get used to it,"

"It isn't-" Marluxia tried, but Axel interrupted.

"What do you think he wants? You're a-"

They were both silent for a few seconds, at the bottom of the stairs. The pizza man was outside.

"You haven't told him, have you?"

"Do you think I'd tell him." It wasn't a question.

Axel laughed.

"Hah! No wonder you brought home some prudish geek from Cornwall you only just met,"

"I'm not that shallow," Marluxia parried, biting his lip to forestall an outburst of anger. Axel fired of a savage grin.

"Who are you trying to kid? Vexen? Of course you are,"

Marluxia snapped.

"Just shut the fuck up! I like Vexen because he's nice, not like any of you fuckers,"

"Vexen's not going to be the one you're going to run to crying when it doesn't work out,"

"You-! What makes you think I'll be running to anybody?!"

"Yeah, but Vexen might be. When he finds out what you haven't been telling him,"

Marluxia had a few false starts before he managed to form a sentence.

"I hate you,"

Axel simply smiled as he pushed the door open.

"Whatever you say, Marluxia. Just don't forget who your real friends are,"

Upstairs, back in the apartment, Vexen absent mindedly shifted through an old mahogany chest of drawers.