Throughout his tenure with the Organization, Demyx had learned many times over that assumptions were dangerous things. Finding a world eerily empty was no indication of the absence of Heartless; more likely, they would have killed everyone in the vicinity and would have been waiting for someone like Demyx to stumble obliviously into their midst. Likewise, if someone learned of the true nature of the Organization, they were to be eliminated immediately rather than left to conveniently forget what they knew. Working for Organization XIII instilled in all its operatives a healthy sense of paranoia.

Demyx's own paranoia was refined a little further when he arrived in the Northern Ramparts. He stepped out of a portal in the wall opposite Zexion's door (plain white and marked "VI" with "Isolated Study" below), determined to enter this time whether his "lover" liked it or not. "Let's see him try to keep anything from me when I set my mind to...huh?" Demyx paused nanoseconds from knocking on the door, his fist hanging and forgotten as he listened to Zexion's voice coming from within.

"No, no, no! Put that down, we're not using it this time...Come here, let me show you what I'm talking about...Yeah, put it right there. There, that wasn't so hard, was it? Beautiful, I feel better already."

Demyx's suspicion and determination collided like a meteor with a young planet Earth, and the anger rising from these emotions was fast approaching an intensity that would indeed kill most dinosaurs. "Who's he talking to? Who's he with? Of all the times to cheat on me, he had to pick-"

"Now as for you," Zexion continued, "I've got something in mind for you that the others just aren't equipped for..."

"The others? What others?"

That was the last straw. Nothing mattered to Demyx anymore except confronting Zexion. Quivering with fury, the Melodious Nocturne backed up and broke into a run, leaping and slamming into the door. He regretted it as soon as he struck the metal; all his efforts won him were a bruised shoulder and a temporarily deadened arm, which Demyx knew would soon hurt like hell. In his mind, though, the pain was secondary to the grunting and whispering coming from Zexion's room - which had suddenly stopped. A lone voice, Zexion's, acknowledged Demyx: "Demyx, if that's you, I'm going to have to ask you to come back later. There's things I have to do that you really shouldn't see..." Picking himself up off the ground, Demyx eyed the door venomously as the suggestive noises resumed. "Looks like we're doing this the hard way," he thought, opening a portal. Demyx then paused uncomfortably.

"The difficult way." Much better.

Technically there was little point in having locks on the doors in the Castle That Never Was; if everyone could teleport anyway, the idea of a lock was reduced to a mere illusion of privacy. Perhaps an illusion is all that it was, perhaps it was just a residual instinct from when the Organization had hearts, perhaps a combination of both. For now Demyx was glad to be able to bypass such rudimentary defenses. He stepped through the swirling oval of purple and black, ready to give Zexion and whoever he was with a royal smackdown, when-

KAZZZZZZZAP

Lightning seemed to attack every inch of Demyx's body the moment he entered the portal. The three seconds it lasted seemed to drag on for thirty before he was unceremoniously blasted back out of the portal to impact against the opposite wall, this time against his other shoulder. He now had two nasty bruises on his upper body and was back to square one.

"Localized portal disruption field, Number IX," Zexion called. "Traded the complete works of Shakespeare to Vexen for a generator. I'm sorry, but I can't let you in here."

Demyx scoffed, feeling betrayed. "I bet that's not the only thing you and he traded! Admit it, he's in there right now!"

Silence. Then: "...Demyx, what the hell are you trying to tell me?" There were muffled voices asking what was going on outside, which Zexion hushed quickly.

There was no immediate answer. Demyx braced himself against the wall, testing his numb legs and sliding to a standing position. He had lost all the feeling in his body thanks to that ridiculous invention of Vexen's, but at the same time he felt desensitized in a different way. Was he jealous of Zexion and whoever else he was with? Was he angry at his infidelity? Demyx's instincts told him that he should be, yet the memory of even these negative emotions wasn't firing in his mind. He balled his hands into fists, bristling at Zexion's apparent insensitivity, but lacked the motivation to sustain it. He finally settled for simply glaring at the door, wearing a look of indignant hurt. "Fine," he spat, turning to leave and avoiding looking at the door any longer. "What do I care who you go to bed with? We're Nobodies, it shouldn't matter to us. It's just like you said this morning - in the end we're just each other's 'temporary relief!'" It stung Demyx to say this, but he closed his eyes and clenched his gloved fists to shake it off, reminding himself that whatever he felt was a reflex and nothing more. "And to think that this morning I thought you were just being cute!" That was all he could take. Demyx turned, slammed one fist into the wall, instantly and painfully regretting it; then he was off, stalking down the hall as fast as he could without running.

More silence. "Demyx?" Zexion called. "Number IX?" No response. "Damn it all."

In his room, Zexion sighed, wondering how on earth Demyx had survived as long as he had without learning to read situations more carefully. There was more than a little guilt mixed in with his exasperation. "Now what?" he asked himself, uncomfortable. "Why didn't I tell him it was a surprise? Hell, why didn't I just pretend I wasn't there? I bet Marluxia screwed me over...and Demyx could be doing any number of things right now. Ugh, what have I done?" Zexion sank down in a nearby armchair, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration; after a moment or two to himself he looked up at his three Absent Silhouettes sharing the room with him. All three looked exactly like him, save for minor imperfections: Zexion Secondary had one green eye and one aqua, Zexion Tertiary was a quarter of an inch shorter, and Zexion Quaternary's hair was a shade darker. "Zexion Secondary, go find Demyx. Bring him here as quickly as possible."

Zexion Secondary nodded, then paused. "Zexion Primary, what about the plan?"

"Forget the plan," Zexion answered dismissively. "This is the one day he - we - can almost feel what it was like to be whole. And false emotions or not, I don't want to ruin it for him."

Demyx walked briskly through the Northern Ramparts, not caring who saw him in his fury. His room was in the West Wing, and he intended to walk all the way there - if he hadn't burned off most of the stress by the time he arrived, he was liable to flood most of that section of the castle without meaning to. Vexen passed him in the hall, carrying a stack of papers, and stopped to talk; it took remarkable self-control on Demyx's part not to summon a tidal wave and sweep him through a nearby window. Demyx greeted him with a cold stare, which Vexen either didn't care about or didn't notice - he seemed somewhat distracted.

"Ah, Number IX, I was looking for you. I've recently been...obligated...to tell you to avoid entering Zexion's room by portal. Apparently there's something in there he doesn't want you to see?" Vexen phrased this last sentence as a question, and accompanied it with a quirk of an eyebrow in expectation of an answer.

"You don't say," Demyx responded acidly through tightly clenched teeth. "He seems to be doing a lot of 'obligating' lately!" He watched Vexen go from mildly interested to affronted - Number IV wasn't used to cross words from Number IX, of all people. Vexen opened his mouth as if to reprimand him, then decided against it and went on his way, casting a suspicious glance back at Demyx and muttering about shooting the messenger. Without another word, Demyx continued on down the hallway to the center of the Castle. The Vacant Core held the central gathering places: the Hollow Cafeteria, the sprawling lounge known as the Gray Area, and the Hall of Empty Melodies, along with smaller meeting rooms, closets, storage areas, kitchens, and even rooms whose function and contents had been long forgotten. Demyx wasn't interested in any of these - he was just passing through. On his way he would often catch glimpses of Kingdom Hearts, this world's ominous substitute for a sun and moon, monopolizing the skyline and providing the only natural light - and could something built by the Organization truly be called natural?

The sight at first pained Demyx. "I wish I didn't have to look at it all the time - it's just a reminder of what I've lost. My heart, my family and friends back in Hawaii, real emotions...Especially today of all days." His self-pity eventually gave way to black thoughts about Zexion ("I bet he was playing me the entire time. Why would he care how I feel? That shouldn't even be possible for us.") and then to painful memories of their time together. Zexion had been particularly good at remembering the little things - Demyx had mentioned offhand what a fan he was of classical music, and next weekend Zexion had surprised him with a rack of Bach CDs collected from several worlds over the course of his missions. Demyx had returned the favor with all the books he could carry from an ancient library on a world long devoid of human life yet spared destruction for reasons unknown. Writing songs for him when he was sick, Zexion reading to him late into the night - the list went on. "We'd always be one-upping each other," Demyx thought with a sad smile as he entered his quarters. "That's what made things exciting - the uncertainty. Pleasant surprises."

As one entered the Symphonic Refuge, one would see an Olympic-sized swimming pool dominating the room, surrounded by a sapphire-colored tile floor assembled by several Dancers from ceramic shards collected from worlds the universe over. Through a door on the left was the bathroom; across from it was his bedroom. Down a set of stairs across from the entrance was a glass-walled conservatory full of one of every kind of instrument in various states of repair. Demyx's hobby, clumsy as he might be elsewhere, was taking damaged things and making them beautiful again. As he stripped to his boxers and slipped into the pool for a swim, it occurred to him that the Organization claimed to be doing the same thing: people who weren't whole had a chance at becoming so once more. But after years with no sign of his other half, no visible chance at becoming Myde again, Demyx wondered if the Organization, and the various diversions that he had found in his time with it, were simply treating the symptom and not the cause. The Symphonic Refuge held many things he remembered enjoying, yet nothing that could truly surprise him. Three things could consistently do that: a newly repaired sitar (harp, cello, piano, etc.), his own idle composing...

And Zexion.

Twenty laps of the pool couldn't chase the Cloaked Schemer from Demyx's mind. And as he reached the edge of the pool, he found that his mind wasn't the only place he could see Zexion. He was, in fact, standing above him at the pool's edge, watching him swim.

Demyx yelped, jerking back from the wall in surprise - and hanging back in anger. "You! What are you doing in my room?"

Zexion sighed. "I thought you might say that. Listen, we need you to come to the Isolated Study. The disruption field's off and there's something that-"

"What do you mean we?" Demyx shot back, the water churning threateningly into miniature waves. "Are you bored with that threesome or whatever I heard? Need someone else to heat things up, Number VI? Sorry, I'm content on my own!" he asserted loftily, turning aside, shutting his eyes and crossing his arms to indicate he didn't want to hear more.

Zexion facepalmed, muttering under his breath; Demyx, meanwhile, intended to stay right where he was until Zexion left. He only opened his eyes when he heard another splash, followed by several more in a clumsy rhythm. Even then, he didn't move until he felt something brush his shoulder. Turning toward whatever it was, he found that Zexion had stripped to his boxers as well and had swam out to meet him. He tensed, but did not recoil. "Okay, you can be sopping wet and disappointed. Doesn't make a difference to-"

"Demyx." Zexion interrupted him, paddling in front of him and grabbing him by the shoulders. "Look at my face." Demyx resisted, closing his eyes again, but the rough water calmed down as finally he opened them to see what Zexion was talking about. It took him a second to notice. "Zexion...you don't have green eyes, do you? One of them..." He trailed off, staring for a moment; his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, then shot up as he realized what was happening. "You're one of his clones?" Zexion Secondary smiled, relieved that they were getting somewhere; then his world went white for a moment as his head erupted in pain. Demyx had punched him in the ear.

"What the hell is his problem? He cheats on me, then can't even bother to talk to me himself?" Demyx was livid, punctuating his words with slaps against the water that threw up geysers. "I ought to rip you apart bit by fake bit!"

Zexion Secondary rubbed the side of his head, wincing, and decided that talking wasn't going to get them anywhere. It was time to fight dirty. "He's right behind you, making out with Axel!" the replica yelled, pointing. Sure enough, Demyx whirled, ready to drown his boyfriend where he stood.

"Wait a minute," Demyx said, turning around. "There's no one-MOTHER OF DARKNESS!"

Zexion Secondary launched himself from the side of the pool, knocking Demyx through a portal.

Luckily, the portal closed behind them both before too much water could spill into the Isolated Study. Demyx found himself facedown on a shag carpet, soaked with his pool water, and thrashed around to get at the Absent Silhouette that had brought him there. "Let me go! What's that traitorous bookworm planning with me?" Still half-disoriented, he only succeeded in shaking water onto his surroundings as Zexion Secondary struggled to hold him. Three sets of hands grabbed him and jerked him upright, which confused him even more. He only stopped when he was forced to stand and got a good look at where he was - and who was with him.

Three of Zexion's Absent Silhouettes held him in place to see the Isolated Study, a high-ceilinged library with wall-to-wall, two-story bookshelves. Directly in front of him, taped to one of the bookshelf walls, was a huge banner that said "Happy Valentine's Day, Demyx!" written in elaborate red script and decorated with hand-drawn pictures of him and Zexion in...compromising positions, which Demyx found infuriatingly intriguing. Red roses filled equally red vases on every wooden surface, tables and chairs both. Rose petals were strewn across the spaces between furniture - and Demyx noticed with some annoyance that several were now stuck to his bare skin. And there, waiting patiently in an overstuffed black leather armchair, was the real Zexion himself, seeming paler than usual, with one eyebrow quirked and watching Demyx with amusement. Demyx gulped. This was not what he had expected to see.

"Um...Zexy?" he ventured, beginning to be quite confused. "What's this?"

"Happy Valentine's Day to you too, Demyx," Zexion replied dryly. "Oh, you're welcome for all this, I thought you'd like it. Why yes, it was pretty taxing doing my mission at one quarter my normal strength while my Absent Silhouettes rushed to decorate for you. Thank you for sympathizing."

Demyx held Zexion's piercing gaze uncomfortably. "So when I came by and you were busy..."

"No, I wasn't cheating on you."

Demyx hung his head guiltily. "How would you feel if I told you how stupid I feel right now?"

Zexion smiled then, glad the storm had passed. "Much better, thank you. Go ahead and release him, we understand each other now," he commanded. The Absent Silhouettes let Demyx go and stepped back. Their forms blurred as Zexion recalled them to him, merging with them one by one and looking healthier with each reunion. Zexion cracked his knuckles, rolled his head from side to side, and stretched, as if adapting to his body. "Oh, that feels good," he muttered. "As for you..." he said mock-severely, approaching Demyx.

The Melodious Nocturne hadn't felt this bad since he'd lost his heart. He hadn't been betrayed - on the contrary, he'd betrayed the person he felt made it worth it to not exist. He didn't look up as he spoke. "How could I have doubted you?" was all he could manage as he stared at the gray carpet. Zexion's hand entered his view, cupping his chin and raising his head to see his boyfriend.

"I don't blame you. Let's get that out of the way," Zexion began, meeting Demyx's green eyes with his own aqua pair. "We're Nobodies. We look at things based on what we see, what we hear - not what we feel." He laughed softly, moving his hand to Demyx's shoulder. "Trust is secondary to us. Without emotional attachments keeping any of us in line, we think everyone's out for himself."

Demyx shivered, wanting to jump Zexion and not separate from him until the morning, but still overcome with contrition. Did he really deserve this? "Sometimes that's true," he sighed miserably.

Zexion nodded. "Yes, sometimes we are selfish. But even though we can't feel, we can remember what it felt like. I'm not just in this for the sex, you know. Remember when you came to the infirmary and played your sitar for me when I was laid up with a broken arm?" he encouraged. Demyx nodded, a faint smile twitching at the corners of his lips. He'd never played for that long, even on weekends when they were free. When he had run out of things he'd composed, he'd improvised for hours on end. "Physical closeness is nice," Zexion continued, "but it's things like that that let me know you're in it for more than that too. It lets me know you're thinking about me." Zexion released Demyx's shoulder, taking Number IX's hand in his. "By all indications we're physically incapable of what people call 'love.' But who's to say we can't come close? What if we've found something just like it, maybe better?" Finally he closed the distance between them, standing toe to toe with Demyx and taking his other hand.

"Besides," Zexion whispered. "Love or not, we know what we like."

Demyx was through feeling sorry. Zexion had closed his eyes, moving in for a gentle meeting of lips, and Demyx met him head on with a full-power kiss, driving the Cloaked Schemer back a couple of inches. Zexion didn't pull away; he pressed himself to Demyx's nearly-naked body, matching him kiss for kiss and savoring the taste of the taller Nobody as he crushed his lips against Demyx's. He moved his hands from Demyx's hands to his shoulder blades, unconsciously caressing Demyx's exposed upper back in angular patterns as he slipped his tongue between his lover's lips. Demyx met this intrusion with his own tongue, matching its movements with the rhythm of their lips as he embraced his superior. Suddenly he grabbed Zexion under his shoulders, lifting him up to make up for their height difference. Zexion cooperated, hooking his legs around Demyx's hips as Demyx held him by his lower back. They stayed there for a while; when they broke apart Zexion smiled down at Demyx, planting a small kiss on his nose. "So. Any ideas for how we spend the rest of the day?" he teased, already knowing the answer. They both laughed, and Demyx kissed him again; then he pulled away, looking past Zexion at the Valentine's Day banner. A few of the drawings had caught his attention, especially the one nestled in the hole in the second P. "Can he really bend that way?" he asked himself. "One way to find out, I guess..." He looked back at Zexion, who was gazing at him expectantly.

"I've got a few ideas," Demyx hinted with a grin. "I picked up some cake in Hollow Bastion. Sure you wouldn't like some of that first?"

Zexion looked down at the end of the room, where a trail of rose petals led to his bedroom door. He chose to forgo a verbal answer, letting his lips do the talking for another minute. His next words were the last he would speak coherently for the day:

"Forget the cake and finish undressing."

So what do you think? This is my first romance, as I mentioned, and I want it to be believable. Certainly my absence from the site should have given me time to refine my craft. I'm sorry for not updating for so long - senior year caught me by surprise, let's say. I want to make this a more regular thing, but until school ends it's going to be sporadic. Not so far apart as before, just sporadic. So before continuing with Lux Aeterna (which I am doing), I thought I'd finish this up. This is Axel-Fangirl's finally-completed, very late Christmas present. I apologize for the delay, and hope you've had as much fun reading it as I did writing it. Zemyx is one of my favorite pairings, and I'm glad to have finally contributed something to the community.

Reviewing increases life expectancy. Scientists said so.