Tainted But Beautiful
Part 1: The Hunters
6. Insecure
Pairings: AkuZeku, Zemyx, AkuRoku, AxDem
Rated: M
Warnings: Vampires, vampires, vampires...uh, yaoi, AU-ish-ness, abuse (if it has AkuZeku, it has abuse in it), noncon, rape, graphic scenes, character death, overall weirdness.
Summary: Axel is a powerful vampire slayer who's captured Zexion, a vampire, as his pet. What Axel doesn't bargain on is Demyx, his former student, developing a strong attraction to Zexion...
Notes: Let's see if we can redeem Demyx a bit, shall we? Because he's in heavy need of redemption after the last chapter...
Anyway, not much to say about this chapter. It does build up on the Zemyx angle a bit more, and also--heey!!--has a scene from Zexion's perspective. So you have that to look forward to. And those happy with AkuZeku abuse will be very happy with that scene. :) Not to mention, it delves a little bit into Axel's backstory...
So yeah, you can see what scene is my favorite in this chapter. Well, keep reading, and keep reviewing! And that'll be all for now.
After last night's "personal business", Demyx took the now-familiar steps down to the dungeon, balancing a mug of steaming blood in his hands. Once in the basement, he strode over to the cell on the very far right. As usual, the weak bulb cast a faint halo of light around the prisoner, slumped against the wall with his knees drawn up to his chest and his head lowered. He almost appeared to be sleeping, but Demyx knew better.
"Hey," he said, rapping on the bars out of politeness. "It's time for lunch."
Zexion answered immediately, though his words were somewhat muffled because he still hadn't lifted his head. "I'm not hungry."
"Really?" Demyx took a step back, surprised, almost sloshing the blood. "But--hey, I can't--I mean, he heated this up, and I don't think he'd be very happy if you...I mean..." He trailed off, not knowing what else to say.
"I understand," said Zexion, in that increasingly-familiar emotionless tone. "Enter, if you wish."
Demyx nodded, and unlocked the barred door, slipping into the cell with Zexion. He took a seat on the rough concrete, struggling for a comfortable position and finally deciding to fold his legs Indian-style, hands in his lap, gingerly setting the mug beside him. He was close enough to touch Zexion, and touch Zexion he did, reaching out and placing his hand, gently, on the top of the vampire's head, his hand sinking into the soft and delicate hair.
Zexion jerked, startled, and Demyx quickly withdrew his hand. "Sorry," he said.
"You--you shouldn't be sorry," said Zexion quietly, looking up for the first time. His blue eyes were dark, emotionless. "You can do whatever you want with me. I will not protest."
"Zexion..." The name died in Demyx's throat. Again, he tasted the harsh tang of the word mastered, stuck to the back of his throat.
"Yes, Demyx?" Zexion cast Demyx a sidelong, disinterested glance. With a sudden flash of insight, Demyx realized--he acts apathetic to hide his pain.
"Look--Zexion--ummm...I'm...I'm sorry..." he said awkwardly. Shit--this wasn't coming out at all the way he wanted it to! He was aware of how flat his words sounded, how insincere...
"What are you saying?" Much to Demyx's surprise, a flash of anger had entered Zexion's voice, and when he turned to look at Demyx again, he was glaring, his eyes narrowed and smoldering in rage. Demyx didn't know whether to be alarmed, or pleased--pleased that finally Zexion was showing some emotion. "What the fuck are you saying? Think about it--you, who--who raped me--who's been raping me every night--"
"I'm sorry," whispered Demyx, shaking his head over and over again, unable to defend himself except by continually repeating those words, that same lifeless mantra, because he had nothing else. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry..."
"Apologies mean nothing unless you mean them!" snarled Zexion in a furious torrent. "You--you're just as bad as he is. No, worse...how can you--how can you be--how can you still be so kind, even after all that? After everything you've done?"
"Please, Zex--" But it was futile; Zexion wouldn't let him continue.
"How....? it would be better if you were...if you were like he was. If you were just cruel all the time. I could make sense of that. But the way you are--you come to me with kind words--and gentle touches--and then in the nights you--you--" Zexion's voice cracked, and he broke off, lowering his head again in an abject gesture of pain and misery. A sharp feeling of sympathy stabbed Demyx's heart, and he reached out to help Zexion, but the vampire's hand shot out and knocked his away.
"See? Like that! How can you--it doesn't make any--it doesn't make any sense!" Zexion shouted. Demyx could only sit where he was, mesmerized by the complicated interplay of emotions across Zexion's face...pain, anger, frustration, hatred, confusion, loss... He couldn't believe that Zexion had been so flat and emotionless before.
Above all the anger, Demyx realized, Zexion was primarily confused. He didn't know why Demyx was acting the way he was, why he could be so kind at times but so cruel at other times...and the thing was, Demyx himself didn't know.
But did he have to know why? All he had to know was that it was wrong, wrong to treat Zexion so cruelly without any reason...and he knew that Zexion was hurt, hurt and confused and angry. And the right thing to do right now was comfort him.
So he found that it wasn't hard to maneuver close to Zexion, drape his arms around the vampire's slender shoulders, and pull him into a tight embrace. Zexion shuddered violently and tried pulling away at first, but then relaxed with a sigh and rested his head on Demyx's shoulder. How long they remained like that, Demyx holding an unprotesting Zexion in his arms, he didn't know, but he found he didn't care. All he was aware of was Zexion, so light and cold in his arms--almost insubstantial. As if Demyx wasn't clinging to a real, flesh and blood person, but a ghost, a shadow...
A demon of the night. But strangely, Demyx found he didn't mind that Zexion was a vampire and he was a slayer. Almost like he had back then, when he'd first spoken to the vampire, but different; this time he knew he wasn't under Zexion's spell, but feeling this of his own volition. He knew Axel would probably just shake his finger at him, and say, disapprovingly, "He's manipulating you and you don't even know it," but Demyx felt he didn't care. Let Axel do that--Demyx knew, with the clarity in his head that was all his, that his feelings were genuine. Not an illusion, not a trick.
"I'm sorry, Zexion," he murmured, breaking the silence. "I don't know why I...I mean, you are attractive and I just wanted to..." He trailed off, struggling for the right words to say. "It was wrong. No matter my motives. It was wrong. Now I realize...I mean...now I realize it doesn't mean a thing. Not if you're not consenting."
Zexion shuddered--Demyx could feel the tremors that caused the vampire's thin shoulder bones to convulse up, and then down. "I don't understand." The words were low, plaintive.
And Demyx sympathized. What use did a vampire--an incubus--have for genuine emotions? "You don't have to, Zexy."
Zexion stiffened. "What--? What was that you called me--"
"'Zexy'. What, I can call you that if I want to, can't I? It's a cute name." Demyx smiled at Zexion, heartened that a bit of Zexion's old confidence was returning.
"It is disrespectful," said Zexion, drawing out each syllable pointedly. "'Zexion' is not even my--but c'est la vie. If you wish to..."
"No, no." Demyx shook his head, not wanting Zexion to descend back into "bowing-and-scraping" mode. "I'm sorry, okay? For...for everything. It was wrong, Zexy--Zexion."
"Apologizing will not change the fact that it happened," said Zexion, his words cold and pointed. He still, however, didn't try to pull away from Demyx, and Demyx only tightened his grip around Zexion.
"Then...then what do you want me to do?" Demyx reached down, gently placing his hand on the side of Zexion's face, tilting the vampire's head up so they were eye-to-eye. Zexion met Demyx's gaze steadily, his expression apprehensive.
"I...you are asking...me...what I want?" he said, his voice quiet, and almost disbelieving. Demyx felt a fresh stab of sympathy for Zexion, and bobbed his head in a nod.
"Yeah. You tell me what you want." Demyx found it wasn't hard to smile, particularly at the bewildered expression on Zexion's beautiful face. He found Zexion's confusion endearing, yet...sad...too, in a strange way. Sad because it was more than clear that Zexion had never before really been listened to before...
Again, Demyx found himself wondering about Zexion's story...
"I--I want to leave this--this hell," said Zexion, his words awkward and tripping over each other, yet blazing with a fresh hatred. He swept his eyes around the dank and rotting prison, and Demyx followed suit. "But I figure that is beyond your power. So for now...I suppose...no, this is foolish. You won't even do what I say."
He turned away from Demyx, glaring off to the side and biting his bottom lip. Demyx sighed, recognizing what the sullen gesture meant, and reached out and ran a hand through Zexion's delicate, slate-blue hair. Zexion cringed, slightly, but Demyx drew closer, tilting him up by the chin so they were eye-to-eye again. He flashed Zexion a smile, which Zexion did not return.
"You have to trust me, Zexy. Believe me. I promise you that I'll never--I'll never do that to you again," said Demyx, imbuing his words with all the seriousness he could muster. He had to make sure Zexion understood, understand that he meant it one hundred percent...
"What does your word mean? Don't deny it--you enjoy what you do. You'll do it again," muttered Zexion darkly, closing his eyes and turning to the side. "How can I trust you?"
"You trust Axel," said Demyx, remembering something Zexion had said during the first session. "You said--"
"You miscronstrued what I said. When I said I 'trusted' him, I meant that I could trust him to always hurt me. That's all," said Zexion, his words cold, flat, and precise--hiding his pain. "But you--I can't trust you to do one thing or the other. How do I know if you're going to hurt me or--or treat me kindly? I can't, so I--mff!"
Demyx couldn't help it. As Zexion let loose his torrent of anguished words, Demyx took the vampire's face in his hands, bent down--and kissed him.
It wasn't a deep, passionate, consuming, kiss--more like just a brief little peck on the mouth. But when Demyx drew away, Zexion's eyes were wide, huge with surprise, as if Demyx had done much more than just peck him once. Demyx cracked a nervous smile, and ran his hand down the side of Zexion's face again, marveling in its cold softness...
"Sorry," he said, still smiling. "But c'mon, you gotta agree with me on that count--sometimes you talk a bit too much."
"In many cases," said Zexion, his tone acid, "words are the only weapon I have at my disposal. The one weapon that no one can ever taken from me." He then jerked on his chains, as if to emphasize that they were weakening his other powers.
"I see," said Demyx, and pressed his lips to Zexion's again. He lavished more time into this kiss, savoring the taste of Zexion's lips--moonlight, shadows, violets, vanilla, coffee, blood--and again how icy-cool, yet soft and delicate, he was...but unlike all the other times he'd done anything sexual with Zexion, he kept full control of himself. No letting the incubus seduce him, no letting his own animalistic hormones take him over; he was going to do this on his terms.
Zexion had now started to return the kiss, but his motives were different from Demyx's--he was prodding, teasing, probing at Demyx's lips with his tongue, in a maddening effort to get Demyx to open his mouth. From then, it'd be all too easy for the vampire to crush Demyx into a full, open-mouthed kiss, and bite, hard, on Demyx's tongue, and lap up the fresh blood that would flow forth...
Needless to say, that was something Demyx did not want. He successfully repelled Zexion's attempts, clinging on to the vampire's slim waist and pulling him closer, at the same time refusing to open his mouth. Zexion fought back, his hands flying to the sides of Demyx's face, his claws digging into the skin, drawing blood, but Demyx didn't care. Let Zexion know that Demyx was stronger--but also let him know that Demyx cared. That he would do nothing to hurt Zexion...
Was this, Demyx realized with another sudden flash, what it really meant to "master"?
"Mmn--nghh--damn it--open up--" hissed Zexion darkly, making another lunge at Demyx's mouth. Demyx finally decided to bring the game to an end, and pulled away from Zexion before Zexion could smash his lips to Demyx's. Zexion let out a low snarl of annoyance when the chains pulled him back, preventing him from getting closer. Demyx grinned and then tsked.
"Don't be so impatient, Zexy," he said. "Sooo...have we, uh, have we made up?"
"We will never 'make up', Demyx," said Zexion, shooting Demyx a dark glare. "Just because I am willing to make out with you does not mean I am willing to make up with you. To me, you are as cruel a master as he his, if not crueler, because you're inconsistent with your cruelty. Try to mull that one over, if you can, that is."
Demyx couldn't help it. He through his head back and laughed.
"What?" said Zexion, looking irritated--no, more than irritated: furious. That just made Demyx laugh harder, so hard, in fact, that he doubled over, clutching his stomach, barely able to breathe in between snorts of laughter. He staggered back to avoid knocking Zexion's mug of blood over, but the laughs were shaking him so badly he thought he was going to fall over.
"What's so funny, you idiot?" snarled Zexion, yanking angrily at his restraints--though they didn't come off, as they were securely bolted to the wall. "Idiot! Idiot! Stop laughing--and let me tell you, if you are laughing at me I promise you that you will not escape alive--"
"N-no," choked Demyx when he'd finally managed to regain some control over himself. He fell to his knees, his abdomen aching form the force of his laughter, wiping tears from his eyes. "No, I really--I didn't--it's just that...I'm happy, Zexy."
"Happy?" Zexion arched a slate-blue eyebrow. "Andstop calling me by that idiotic name--"
"I am. I'm happy," said Demyx, and he cracked a huge grin that he hoped expressed just a fraction of his elation. "It's really--I was really worried that I'd broken you. But now I see you're perfectly intact. You're just as mean as ever. That's great!"
"You're an idiot," said Zexion, the word dripping with cold judgment.
"Idiot and proud," declared Demyx, his grin widening so much he thought his face would burst. "Really, Zexy, keep up the insults. Insult me as much as you can. Don't worry about me being hurt; sticks and stones and so on, right? I'm glad. I'm really glad. No, more than glad. But I figure it'd take more than an idiot like me to break you..."
A strange look came over Zexion's face at that instant--partly anguished, partly hopeless, partly angry. He lowered his head, and mumbled to the floor, "I suppose that's so...what could you do that's worse than..."
Demyx was too elated to really care about Zexion's bad mood, though. He almost waltzed over to the door of Zexion's cell, and before exiting flashed the vampire his brightest smile. "Feel better, okay, Zexy? Tonight, I promise you--tonight, I don't care what Axel says, I'm not going to hurt you anymore--and be sure to drink your blood before it gets too cold--"
He had no idea what he was saying anymore, but it didn't matter--the elated feeling was lifting him up, making his arms and legs feel light and buoyant, causing each throb of his heart to send bursts of pure bliss through his veins. A part of Demyx wondered if he'd finally gone off the deep end, but then he reasoned that if he was able to think that he was crazy, he wasn't, and anyway, what was the point of such idiotic wonderings?
"See you tonight!" called Demyx to the incredulous, slack-jawed Zexion just as he scaled the stairs again--and he found that he was looking forward to it.
Because tonight, for the first time in weeks, he'd make sure that they both enjoyed it. Screw whatever Axel thought! He wasn't Demyx's teacher anymore, and he had no control over Demyx. Demyx was free, free to make his own decisions. And he'd decided. Enough with this mastering business--he was going to be kind to Zexion.
And heaven be damned if Axel didn't like it.
The vampire the humans knew as Zexion lingered in the hall outside Axel's office, his back to the wall, his arms folded, eyes closed, pretending to be lost in thought and completely oblivious to his surroundings--but that couldn't be farther from the truth. In truth, his ears were pricked, his mind intent, and he was focused on nothing more than the room behind him, on picking up the gentle lilt of voices through the wall.
He heard the voices as loudly as if the two were right outside the hall with him, or if he was in the room with them. The boy--Roxas--was speaking, reciting a list of vampire-related facts.
"...um, and sunlight severely stuns them and for some of the really weak ones it can burn 'em up..." he was saying, his youthful voice uncertain, but eager to please. His scent wasn't such a bad one--it had a slight taint, from him having spent so long in the sordid tenements, but overall was sharp, clear, clean. The scent of one with no guile, and absolute certainty in what was right.
Zexion found that sort of person insufferably boring. Of more interest to him was the other voice...the other scent.
"Yeah, that's right, Rox," said Axel, his voice encouraging, almost friendly beneath the smirking confidence. The scent, however, betrayed no friendliness--merely a strong trace of smoke mingled with spice and shadows. Complicated, exactly like the person who bore the scent. "How 'bout crosses? How do they affect vampires?"
"Er...they dont?" Roxas phrased it as a question, but he needn't have bothered; any idiot who wanted to be a slayer (or who was a vampire) knew that a Christian cross had about as much effect on a vampire as a strong dose of garlic. Which meant, none at all.
"Good job," said Axel. "Yeah, that's right. Most stakes are carved like crosses and a lot of guns have cross designs, and crosses carved on the bullets anyway. But that's not because the vampires are immune to crosses. It's mostly tradition, carried out from back in the day when the Catholic Church was the largest employer of vampire slayers in the world. Got it memorized?"
Excluding Han Dynasty China, thought Zexion irreverently. The Third Reich might also compare favorably to the Catholic Church in the number of vampire slayers they employed...and they were certainly much more successful at killing vampires. It wasn't just Jews in Auschwitz...
"So, yeah," Axel was saying, while Zexion mused on vampire history, "you're learning really quickly, Roxas. Pretty soon I might be able to take you on your first hunt!"
"Really? You mean it?" Roxas's voice was raw with eagerness, and Zexion could just picture the boy standing up, hands shaking in anticipation. That boy...he was all too eager. Zexion didn't know if it was a good thing or not--was it something he could use in his favor? Or did it mean that the boy would one day become a deadly opponent, and had to be eliminated?
Not that Zexion was going to do any eliminating now. He glared distastefully at silver chain dangling from the cuff around his wrist, and the bright red burn ring beneath the cuff. Day after day he was getting better at blocking out the sharp searing sensation, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt any less...
Unbidden, Zexion found himself flashing back to that person...to the idiotic, smiling, blonde, who smelled of sea salt and ocean breeze, and had a voice that bubbled like a babbling brook. He babbled as much as a brook, too. That idiot, who'd visisted him in his cell about a week ago, said a bunch of stupid things, and then kissed him...
But Demyx had made good on his promise. Against Axel's irritated protests, he had started treating Zexion kinder in bed, asking if Zexion enjoyed it too. It was odd; Zexion couldn't remember the last time he'd been allowed to enjoy sex. He supposed he shouldn't begrudge Demyx's sudden kindness, but he was doing his best to remain aloof from the blonde slayer. That last time, he'd spilled too many of his emotions for his liking...he would be more careful to keep himself under control in the future...
"Hey, where are you going?" called Roxas from inside.
"Oh, getting the door. Wouldn't want to keep our visitor waiting, would we?" said Axel, the veneer of friendliness gone from his voice, laying bare his usual taunting, smirking tone for all the world to hear. He had moved to the door and was making to open it. Zexion unpeeled himself from the wall, turning to face the door.
"Huh? What visitor--" said Roxas, but just as he spoke, Axel swung the office door open.
He stood there, a confident smirk on his face, his hands in his pockets. Exactly as Zexion knew him, and feared him--always so confident. Axel would never show any weakness, and this frustrated Zexion above all else--that he couldn't find anything to exploit. That Axel, this vampire slayer, was so much more powerful than him...more than the torment, the rape, the imprisonment, the power that Axel held rankled Zexion. He could do whatever he wished, and Zexion would be powerless to stop him.
"Come on in," said Axel, sweeping his arm behind him in an overly dramatic "after you" gesture. Zexion saw no use in resisting, and so wordlessly followed Axel into the study.
Axel's top-floor study was as disorganized as Zexion had last seen it, very early in his imprisonment when Axel had sought to "master" him in there. It hadn't changed, except it had acquired more clutter. Zexion hid a growl of discontent--he hated clutter. To him, a disorganized room meant a disorganized mind, and nothing was more horrifying to him than the inability to organize his own thoughts. He followed Axel into the room without complaint, though, standing on the opposite side of Axel's desk while the slayer sprawled into the chair. Roxas just stood by the door, his eyes wide, looking foolish and lost.
"Um..." he said.
"It's okay, Rox," said Axel with a lazy and dismissive wave of his hand. "I summoned him, so you don't have to worry. Why don't you go to sleep?"
"Um--all right. All right. Er, night, Axel," said Roxas, slipping out of the door and shutting it behind him. Of course, both Axel and Zexion knew that Roxas most likely wasn't going to sleep--he was probably going to the library to read up on vampires or else train outside in the courtyard. That boy...he threw himself into his training with a fervor that disturbed Zexion, but he felt it was understandable.
"Night, Roxas," called Axel belatedly, staring for the longest time after where Roxas had retreated. Then, he turned around in his chair to face Zexion, linking his fingers together and resting his elbows on the desk. He looked like a teacher prepared to deliver a lecture--this man, thought Zexion in a vague, offhand sort of way, was ultimately more of a teacher than a slayer.
"So," said Axel. "Do you know why I summoned you?"
Indeed. I wonder why...? Usually you are content to leave me to rot in that cell. Out loud, he adopted his flat, "obedient servant", demeanor, and said in an inflectionless voice, "No, Master."
"Do you want to know why?"
Stop the games. You were never very good at it. It is a pain to see you try. "Yes, Master."
"All right, then. Listen up well and listen up good, you," said Axel, his tone commanding. But he never spoke to Zexion in any other tone... "After some thorough deliberations, I've decided this--you're going to be Demyx's. Got it memorized?"
Zexion was so surprised that he let his "obedient servant" veneer slip. "Excuse me? That idiot--"
In a flash, Axel was up and had reached across the desk to grab Zexion by a fistful of his hair, and slam him face-down into the desk. Stars burst into the vampire's vision as his forehead hit the desk, and it took all of his self-control to keep from crying out in pain. Axel twisted Zexion's head back and forth several times, before releasing his pincer grip and resuming his seat again. Zexion slumped against the desk, breathing hard, trying to ignore the blossoming pain on his forehead and scalp...damn it, he should have been more careful...
"Stand up." Zexion obeyed in a heartbeat. "Don't talk about Demyx that way. Although I feel like we've had this conversation before, so I won't dwell on it. Anyway, yeah. You're to be Demyx's. Meaning to say that you'll be released from your prison--don't get your hopes up, I'm not letting you out of the house--and you're to live with Demyx. He will take charge of most aspects of your discipline and so on. Got it memorized?"
"Yes, Master," said Zexion automatically. But then, he had to ask--"But may I ask why, Master?"
"Yeah, go right ahead," said Axel. He'd stood up, and had crossed around the desk so that he was facing Zexion. Zexion took an automatic step back, but Axel's hand shot out and hooked around Zexion's wrist, dragging him closer. Zexion gasped, startled, when Axel then released him--and lifted both of his hands and placed them on the sides of Zexion's face.
Zexion's breath caught in his throat--he couldn't remember Axel ever displaying this much kindness to him before. His mind racing, he started wondering what kind of game this was, and supposed he should give Axel points for being somewhat original this time... Axel, however, let his hands drop from their gentle carressing of Zexion's face, down to the vampire's waist. This was a better touch; more familiar. But even then, incongruously gentle...
"He likes you," said Axel, his voice low, the light in his eyes--serious. "You didn't realize? He does. He doesn't want to hurt you during the nights. You've noticed that, haven't you?"
Yes, I have. Do not speak to me like I am an imbecile. "Yes, Master."
"I'm figuring this is best for you...for both you and him. I want to make him happy, after all," said Axel, and the slight hint of a smile started playing on his face. The hands around Zexion's waist tightened--not enough to hurt, but enough so that Zexion felt the pressure. "It's getting a pain babysitting all three of you at the same time--plus Saunders--so I figure this'll be one burden taken off me, you know?"
Tch. Again, a deferent, "Yes, Master. That is all, Master?"
"Yeah, that's all. Now screw off," said Axel, releasing Zexion's waist and striding back around the desk to the computer. He was probably preparing to play online pinball all night, thought Zexion sourly, and wanted the vampire gone as soon as possible. But Zexion, however, remained standing there, watching Axel...
Once again evaluating strengths, weaknesses. Advantages, disadvantages. Control, chaos. So he was falling out of Axel's control--but would Demyx control him? And...would this be an opportunity for Zexion? It definitely was, but an opportunity to do what? Escape? And then there was Demyx himself, complicating everything with his bizarre mix of kindness and cruelty...
But one thing was clear. There was an opportunity in this moment, and it had nothing to do with Demyx and everything to do with Axel.
"Hey. I told you to fuck off," said Axel, glancing away from the computer to cast Zexion a bored, imperious look. Actually, Axel had said screw off, but...
"Master," said Zexion, hissing inside at the way the word burned as it came up his throat. It tasted sour, disgusting, and if he'd had just an iota less self-control, he would have spat it out. "May I be granted permission to speak freely?"
Permission to speak freely. Like a soldier. But Zexion had never given such a request to Axel before, and wasn't sure how to do it. So he phrased it like a soldier would address his commander, or he would address the Superior back in the coven...
"Huh?" Axel arched a red eyebrow, looking bored and annoyed. "Oh, sure. Go right ahead."
Hmm. Axel was being surprisingly generous. Zexion supposed he shouldn't waste this opportunity. "Master...I was just wondering...why do you hate me so much?"
"Huh?" said Axel again, not looking away from the computer screen, but then yawned and turned to face Zexion. "Oh, as if that isn't obvious. Let's see, how about this--you're a vampire and I'm a slayer."
Zexion had been expecting this reply, so he wasn't disappointed. He merely folded one arm across his chest and lifted the other to his chin, surveying Axel through half-closed eyes. After waiting for exactly two minutes, he said, his voice low and insidious, "Are you certain that's the only reason...? Could it have something to do with, say--that night?"
"What--?" Axel jerked out of his seat so fast that it shot out from behind him crashed into the window behind him, where it spun a few weak revolutions and then fell over with a resounding crash. Axel didn't seem to care, though--he had stood up, his every muscle tensed, and his hand had flown automatically to his belt--though there was no weapon there. He looked like a wildcat, taut and prepared to spring at the slightest provocation, his eyes narrowed, breathing hard.
"Master, with all due respect--" Meaning none "--I have to say that is a more plausible reason for your behavior than just a general loathing for all vampires. You hold a grudge towards me, for the things I said that first night. No matter how much you tell yourself that it doesn't matter what I said--what I showed you--you still can't shake my words and illusions off that easily. You wake up in the middle of the night, arrested by nightmares. My words creep into your mind during your idle moments, and you can't help but wonder..." And then he said, lowered his voice to a silky whisper:
"...what if everything I said to you was true?"
This was wonderful, beautiful, marvelous in every way. Zexion had almost--almost--forgotten the thrill of holding a stronger opponent within his grip, the crushing web he could weave with words alone, the knowledge that he knew his opponents' every weakness, and knew how to exploit it, and left them powerless because of his mastery over their minds. The last time he'd ever been able to feel skilled as a manipulator had been that night with Demyx at the party...no, earlier, that first night he'd snuck into Axel's room and laid bare all of Axel's sins, his fears and hopes and demons, before him...
Even now, when theirs was a relationship was one of such gross imbalances, Zexion realized that he still had something he could exploit in Axel. The knowledge made him smirk, that familiar confident smirk that he hadn't had any reason to put on at all these past nightmarish weeks--but only for a moment. Because the next instant, the force of a hundredweight slammed against his face and knocked him, winded and gasping, to the floor.
Axel loomed above him, his face a dark mask of fury, his hand trembling. The torment wasn't over yet--for Axel lifted his foot and ground it, hard, into the small of Zexion's back. Zexion bit back a scream of pain--this was worth it. All worth it. He'd managed to set Axel off--
"Shut up, you fucking little monster!" roared Axel, grinding his foot back and forth, fury twisting his voice and making it almost unrecognizable. "Like you--like I'm ever gonna let you manipulate me again--you and your lies--"
"Lies? How can you be sure? You really do feel that way about him, don't you? You care about him--and it hurts you whenever you think you haven't done a good enough job with him," continued Zexion, speaking a little more quickly now, but never allowing any of the insidious intent to leave his voice. "You think you've failed Demyx--that you weren't a good teacher--a good guardian--"
"Shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up SHUT UP!!!" howled Axel, stomping, now, with each plaintive cry. Zexion bit his lip to keep from screaming in pain, ignoring the warm blood that trickled down his chin. He was sure he'd be left with horrible bruises--probably wouldn't even be able to stand up--but that was an acceptable price to pay for this. "Shut the fucking hell up--you have NO idea--"
"True, I am not you," said Zexion, swallowing blood and keeping his voice steady, even as Axel grabbed him by the collar and yanked him up so they were face-to-face. "But I can understand your pain. Your pain at disappointing Demyx...at disappointing your parents...you're worried, constantly worried, that you can't measure up to anyone, that you're a failure--"
This earned him a firm punch straight in the face, sending him reeling backwards and colliding into the wall. The punishment wasn't over then--because Axel snatched him by the shoulder, so hard he most certainly left bruises, and hit Zexion in the face again. Zexion hissed as the blow collided--not just because it was a hard blow but also because of the rings on Axel's hand, which had left painful burns on Zexion's face.
"Shut up!" roared Axel again, hitting Zexion in the stomach this time. Zexion coughed, tasting the salt tang of blood in his mouth--but still felt satisfied. He'd gotten the exact reaction he'd wanted. "SHUT UP!!! Don't you dare--don't you fucking tell me--you monster--monster, monster, monster, monster--"
He let go of Zexion, then, and Zexion, startled by the lost of contact, stumbled backwards, catching himself on a bookshelf. His head spun and he was aching all over, not to mention feeling ready to vomit up blood--yet he couldn't have been more happy. He'd done it. Proven to Axel that the slayer's control was false, a thin and tenuous connection that could be sliced in half with a simple word. He almost, irrationally, wished the others from his coven were here, so he could show them once and for all that words did have power and that he wasn't just a mere incubus...
"Monster...monster...monster..." hissed Axel, over and over again, sinking slowly to his knees, his eyes huge and wild and desperate. But they weren't focused on Zexion--no, he was staring at his hands, held before him and twitching like pale crabs. "Monster...monster...oh God, monster..."
With a shuddering, abject groan, he buried his face in his hands, and started shaking madly, still whispering, "Monster, monster, oh God..." like a desperate mantra, like it was the only thing that was anchoring himself to the earth.
Zexion remained leaning against the bookshelf, watching Axel, partly fascinated, partly--pitying, even--
But mostly satisfied. A deep, overwhelming feeling of satisfaction that coursed through all his veins and kept him standing and steady even when he was threatening to collapse from exhaustion and pain. Hell, he knew he'd suffer--suffer--for this tomorrow, but for now, he let the euphoric delight take over and drown him in sharp, sadistic pleasure, the likes of which he'd never felt before.
He'd proven it, beyond anything. Proven that Axel, his captor, his jailer, his master, was nothing more than a weak and insecure fool. With a confidentsmirk gracing his pale features, the vampire turned around and departed the room, his strides strong and self-assured. For this night, at least, he had won.
"So I heard you were gonna be mine," said Demyx, plopping down on the bed and flashing Zexion a smile that, much to his surprise, was genuine. But hey, he did like Zexion...
"Indeed," said Zexion lightly. He didn't sit down, but remained leaning against the wall--his dark eyes flickering around the room, taking in his surroundings. Understandable; he'd never been in Demyx's room before...although Demyx didn't think there was much to see. Just the bed (which had green sheets), the nightstands, the pictures on the walls, the closet, and a few of Demyx's personal possessions strewn around. Demyx couldn't imagine that it would hold any interest at all for the vampire.
He himself was watching Zexion, cautiously. Apparently, last night Zexion and Axel had gotten into a fight (why had Demyx missed this?), and Zexion certainly seemed to be the worse off for it. He had several new bandages on his face, and had been limping quite painfully. Still, Zexion didn't seem to care at all about his injuries, and Axel, for his part, had barred himself into his room and refused to emerge, worrying Roxas greatly and causing Saunders fits.
"Er..so you'll be staying here with me?" said Demyx, feeling awkward. This was almost...too good to ask for, and he was wondering if Zexion was coming with any strings attached. But no, he shouldn't look gift horses in the mouth...
"Yes," said Zexion, sounding disinterested. He turned to cast a glance at the guitar case thrown at the base of the closet, and bent over it, prodding the case with a claw. "You play?"
"Uh...yeah. Some," said Demyx, feeling his face burn bright red from the lie. He didn't know why he was so embarrassed, but...somehow felt Zexion didn't appreciate music playing. But since when, he wondered, did he need Zexion's approval?
Anyway, Zexion saw through the lie, so the whole point was moot. "You're lying." There was no accusing note to his voice; his words were as flat and precise as always.
"Well...okay, I do play, and I like it..." said Demyx.
"But he does not." It didn't take a genius to figure out which "he" Zexion was talking about--the only "he" that mattered to both him and Demyx. "Does he?" The vampire cast Demyx a sidelong glance, a look of purely academic curiosity on his face. Demyx responded by shaking his head.
"Yeah," he said with a sigh. "Axel's kind of tune-deaf, so he doesn't appreciate any music..."
"Are you good at it?" Zexion seemed strangely interested in this topic, but Demyx couldn't fathom why.
"We-ell...I've never had any formal training, but..." Demyx flushed even brighter and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, remembering a party back when he'd been young--only twelve--where he'd convinced Axel to let him play the piano. After Demyx had finished with a melody he thought was simple and rather childish, all of the awed partygoers stood up and gave him a thunderous ovation. Demyx had been embarrassed for weeks afterwards, and terribly confused--especially by the words of one kindly gentleman, who, perhaps meaning well, had said:
"Why, boy, are you training to be a slayer? You'd be known the world around if you pursued a career in music!"
Even today, sometimes Demyx heard those words in his dreams--or rather, nightmares--and always, after hearing them, he felt the same he had back then. A sick, sinking sensation in his stomach, a burning heat in his face, a swirl of confused emotions in his head. Sometimes, when he was feeling particularly down as a slayer, he even entertained what he'd come to call "The Forbidden Notion"--that of shredding his license, picking up his guitar, and doing nightclub gigs.
But never. He was a vampire slayer. Nothing else.
"Never mind...that was a rude question," said Zexion. He came to sit on the bed beside Demyx, his hands in his pockets, his eyes never leaving the guitar case. "But tell me, Demyx. You do like music, don't you?"
"You kidding? I love it!" said Demyx before he could stop himself. He blushed, again--he was sure that by now, Zexion was convinced that he was an immature idiot. Well, he supposed he was an idiot and not terribly mature for his age, but...
"Then why are you a slayer?" Demyx jumped, startled at the question--but why should he be? It was the question he'd been asking in his head just a few moments ago.
"I--look--well--it's because--I feel like--" After a few false starts, Demyx managed to scrounge up the words for what he wanted to say. "Because it's in my nature. I mean...it's something that...I mean, I was seven when Axel rescued me. That's how I became his student--he rescued me from a vampire. He was ten. I was seven. Yeah. I spent the next ten years with him."
"I admire your restraint in being able to spend that much time with Axel without comitting homicide," said Zexion, his tone dry. Demyx chuckled a little and went on.
"Ten years...it's a really long time, you know? I couldn't...I mean...all that time with Axel. As you said. He was always--he never thought of being anything but a slayer. It was in his blood. And me...because I was with him, I started to think like that, too." He paused to glance at Zexion, now starting to feel horribly embarrassed. He'd never said any of these thoughts aloud before, and voiced out loud they were starting to seem foolish. Zexion's only response, however, was to nod for Demyx to continue.
Demyx cleared his throat and went on. "It was the same for me...I couldn't be anything but a slayer. It wasn't just--it wasn't just his attitude rubbing off on me, either. He--Axel saved me. I owed him, I owed him my life. After he saved me that night...I mean...there was no way I could be anything else."
He stopped speaking then, staring down at his hands and feeling the burning blush in his cheeks intensify. Now that he'd really said it, his reasons for being a slayer were...completely idiotic. But he couldn't go back, not from this life he may or may not have chosen. It was his now; who cared why he'd decided to do it?
"I see," said Zexion, his voice quiet. For the first time, he tore his eyes away from the guitar case, and turned to face Demyx, his face blank. "It's something of a shame, though."
"A shame? How's that?" said Demyx, and again the kindly gentleman's words drifted back into his mind--What a shame, that such a young virtuoso is wasting his talent away...
"Well...I don't suppose you'd quite understand," said Zexion, shaking his head and looking somewhat bemused. "But...in vampire society, there is no...what's your trendy human term for it...'upward mobility'. We exist for one purpose and one only, and we cannot change our occupations--because it's a part of our natures. Like me. I am an incubus. I can't suddenly decide to become a higher-ranked vampire one day; it doesn't work like that."
"Uh-huh," said Demyx, but then felt to add, "Hey, human society's not that fluid either. I mean, I can't be the King or anything--"
Zexion plowed on as if Demyx hadn't interrupt. "But you can choose. You can choose to be a--a musician, or whatever. Or an accountant. Or the President of the United States of America. You're not limited by--what you're born as. True, you humans are a lot of slow, stupid, and mindless animals, but at the very least, in that respect, you're nobler than we vampires are."
"Um," said Demyx, "I'm not quite sure if that was supposed to be a compliment or an insult."
"A little bit of both," said Zexion with something akin to a derisive snort. Then, changing the subject completely, he faced Demyx again, meeting the slayer's eyes--and smiling. Demyx's heart gave a startled jolt--it was the first time he'd ever seen the vampire smiling a real smile, not just a seductive smirk. And--
Demyx found he quite liked it. Something about Zexion's gentle, but shy and tentative smile, made his face seem so much younger, and the way the smile extended to his eyes, causing them to light up.... It was as if a cloud had moved aside, revealing the previously hidden sun, and casting the entire landscape into brilliance. For a moment, Demyx almost forgot how to breathe.
"You should play, Demyx," said Zexion, still smiling. "Who knows? A little music might make this hell just a tad more bearable..."
"Hey, you really think it's hell here?" protested Demyx. "I mean--you're free from the cell now!"
"That's true..." said Zexion pensively, bringing his hand to his chin again and staring in the distance, his eyes not really focused on anything. "But he is still here..."
"And, don't forget,"cut in Demyx, grabbing Zexion by the shoulder (ignoring the vampire's startled shout) and turning him so they were eye-to-eye, "you've still got me."
Zexion's eyes widened, and his throat convulsed, seemingly in an attempt to come up with words to protest. Then, with a resigned sigh, he shook his head and said, "Yes. For what it is worth...I still have you."
Demyx smiled so widely he thought his face would burst. He wasn't sure if what Zexion had said was exactly a good thing, but hey, he decided he was going to be an idiot like usual and just assume it was. And no matter what Zexion thought about their bizarre "relationship"--
Demyx liked it, and he was all too happy that he got to spend more time with Zexion.
See? Zemyx and AkuZeku goodness! Not so much Roxas, though...
The next chapter is called "Love"...hmm, wonder what's going to happen? And hey, it touches a bit on the main plot, too (aaand has discussions on...sparkly vampires!). And lest we forget, make-out scenes:
It was even better than the first time. Demyx almost thought his head was going to implode from the sheer joy of it--Zexion's taste, overwhelming him, intoxicating him, conquering him, freeing him--he couldn't think, his thoughts were a jumbled mess, all he was aware of was him and Zexion, mouths pressed together, kissing, over and over and over again, his tongue diving into Zexion's mouth, sucking in the vampire's sweet flavor. Sometimes, Zexion's fangs scraped against Demyx's tongue, sending shivers of delight running down Demyx's spine.
So you have that to look forward to. In the meantime, keep the reviews coming, mmkay?