Kind of Awkward
Title: Kind of Awkward
Authors: villanelle_koi, _ree
Pairing: Zexion/Demyx
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Demyx would see him every day, working at the university bookstore. Privately he would call him The Boy Who Hated Everything. But Demyx didn't know that The Boy Who Hated Everything was actually The Boy Who Kind of Liked Demyx.
Kind of Awkward
Looking back, The Cookie Kama Sutra was probably not the best choice for Demyx’s daily stare-at-Zexion-while-hiding-behind-a-book session. It wasn’t like he’d chosen it on purpose - no, nothing like that. The moment he’d spied the slate-haired boy behind the check-out counter, he’d grabbed the nearest thing with binding and thick pages and had shoved his nose into it, peeking out at Zexion over the top.
And then Zexion had glanced in his direction, and Demyx had immediately looked down, and promptly yelped and threw the book across the store and into a nearby shelf.
Gingerbread men should never be in that kind of position, he thought wildly as all the blood in his body seemingly rushed into his cheeks. Then he noticed that practically everyone in the bookstore was staring at him, and he gulped in embarrassment before hurrying to retrieve the thrown book and replace it on the shelf.
He was sure Zexion was staring at him, too. How could he not? Demyx had just totally screwed up.
A flustered moment later and the blond was staring woefully at the floor. Or, more precisely, at the contents of the bookshelf which were now so charmingly splayed across it. He'd just wanted to put back the cookie sex book and find a somewhat cooler one to salvage his honor, dammit! He bent to pick up the scattered books.
"Move back, I'll do it," an apathetic voice broke in. Demyx had to nearly jam his fist in his mouth to keep from screaming. Great. Just great. Zexion. AKA The Boy Who Hated Everything, Everything probably including Demyx by now if it hadn't before. His life was officially over.
He was about to panic and assure Zexion that no, no, it was okay, he didn’t mind picking it up, but then Demyx made the unfortunate mistake of actually looking at Zexion and suddenly forgot everything he was going to say. The other boy was stooped with his back to Demyx, gathering as many books as possible, and Demyx had just made a mental note that Zexion was wearing really nice pants when he realized that, dear god, he was staring at his ass.
Mortified, he made a somewhat strangled noise and quickly averted his eyes. Inquisitively, Zexion turned to look at him over his shoulder, and Demyx practically squeaked.
“Sorry,” he said, flustered, then cleared his throat and attempted a more normal tone of voice. “Here, let me help…”
"No," Zexion said quickly. "The offer is appreciated, but I don't want you messing up anything more than you already have."
So Demyx was stuck hovering around the bookshelf anxiously, squirming a little every time Zexion bent over to pick up a book (and dear lord, how long could one person take rearranging a damn bookshelf?) and gave him a view of that cute little train of thought was stopping right there. "I'm really sorry..."
"Whatever." Zexion finished putting the last book in place and turned to him, forcing a blank smile onto his face. "Were you looking for something?"
Demyx froze. Oh. Um. Well. "My music textbook!" he managed weakly. "I. Um. Need it! For my. Music class. Yeah. My music book." Oh, yes, what an ingenious save. "Could you, uh, point me to them?"
Zexion gave him a strange look. "They're downstairs. Along with all of the other textbooks."
This was right around the point where Demyx started mentally kicking himself.
“Oh, uh. Right.” Rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, he cast a glance at the steps leading to the lower level, which were situated right next to a bright yellow sign reading: TEXTBOOKS. “Thanks for your help, then.”
Zexion just nodded, the forced polite smile on his face fading as Demyx turned and bounded down the steps.
This is officially the worst day of my life, he thought morosely as he hid his face in embarrassment, slinking behind the textbook shelves. He didn’t actually need a book for music class, but he figured that plucking something out of the English section would be suitable for impressing Zexion with his faux-literary knowledge and intelligence. Maybe then Zexion would even forget that he hated him. Or that he’d accidentally spilled half of the Non-Fiction section all over the floor.
He randomly selected the thickest-looking book he could find - Crime and Punishment, upon closer inspection - and made a face at the impossible-to-pronounce author’s name before trudging back upstairs, steeling himself against the cold look Zexion would undoubtedly give him on sight.
Zexion just threw a weird look at the book, then said flatly, "Will that be all for you today?"
Demyx was busy staring at Zexion's eyes. Very pretty, really, that lovely little dark shade of blue and -
"Did you hear me?"
"What, what?" Demyx snapped out of his little reverie.
"Will. That. Be. All. For. You?" Zexion said, very slowly, emphasizing each word carefully.
Demyx blushed. "Oh! Um. Y-yes. Thank you."
With another odd look in Demyx’s direction, the other boy wordlessly held out the university bookstore bag holding Crime and Punishment and raised his eyebrows.
Demyx snatched it up hastily, tucking it beneath his arm and fighting off a cliché blush. Stuttering another thank you, he forgot to take the receipt Zexion offered and rushed out of the store as quickly as possible.
--
“I hate my life,” Demyx moaned theatrically as he flung his bag at his roommate and crashed onto the couch.
Axel just blinked from his spot on the arm chair, looking unfairly amused as he dodged the bag flying at his face and observed his roommate’s usual dramatics. “What happened this time?” He peered at the university’s crest on the outside of Demyx’s purchase. “Loverboy not there today?”
Demyx sat up with a glare. "Do NOT call him 'loverboy'. And he was there." He groaned and flopped theatrically onto the plush cushions again. "I just happened to screw everything up. My life is over now." He looked over at his roommate. "Care to help me commit ritual seppuku?"
"Okay, one: no, I wouldn't. Two: you're not a samurai, so you technically can't commit ritual seppuku. And three: burning alive would be a lot more fun."
Glare. "You're morbid, Axel."
The redhead shrugged. "Hey, just trying to help, Dem."
"Some help you are," he replied sourly, flopping down so he was stretched across the couch cushions. "Honestly. Never an ounce of sympathy from you, I swear."
Axel spread his hands defensively. “Did you really expect any?”
“No,” he grumbled, staring gloomily at the ceiling. Stupid ceiling. It didn’t have to worry about things like fatally embarrassing itself in front of awesome people like Zexion. Frowning, he threw his arm over his eyes so he didn’t have to look at it anymore and groaned, “Axel, what should I do?”
Shrugging, Axel pulled Crime and Punishment out of its bag and tossed it at Demyx’s lap. “Why don’t you read your book?”
Demyx allowed it to bounce sadly off his legs and onto the floor. “I meant about Zexion!”
"You still could read your book."
"Would you stop harping on about the book?" Demyx cried indignantly. "I'm going through a romantic crisis! I don't have time to think about literature!"
"Well," Axel said thoughtfully, "considering it's Zexion we're talking about, you should probably make the time to think about literature. He's a reading buff, from what I hear. Bet he has wet dreams about going to work -"
"AXEL!" Demyx shot up off the couch, his face a brilliant crimson color. "Don't say things like that!"
"Why not?" His roommate grinned deviously. "Oh, wait - of course, I'm not allowed to say anything that could lead to you throwing me out of the apartment for an impromptu masturba-"
"AXEL, SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
“Whatever,” Axel said, waving him off, still wearing that Machiavellian smirk as he slid out of his chair and pointed at Demyx. “Sit around and mope all you want. Just don’t expect me to go to the bookstore for you the next time you need something and you’re too embarrassed to do it yourself.”
“Oh my god.” Demyx’s gaped at him with bulging eyes. “You’re right.”
Axel looked smug. “Damn right I am. So get off your ass and-“
“I can never go back!” the blond cut in dramatically, and he sat up so quickly that he nearly collided with his roommate.
“Ugh,” Axel muttered to no one in particular, wiping his face in exasperation. “Here we go…”
"I can't ever show my face to Zexion again!" Demyx wailed mournfully, ignoring Axel's comment. "Not ever, ever, ever!"
Axel snorted derisively. "What, so you're never going to see him again? No objections from me. Maybe then I can actually get you to talk sense every once in a while."
Demyx froze. "Never... see Zexion again?"
Axel frowned. "Well, yeah. The whole 'never showing your face to him again' thing kind of runs two ways."
"I can't do that!" Demyx wailed. "I can't just... never see the love of my life ever again!"
"Isn't 'love of your life' going a little far? I mean, have you even really talked to -"
"You have to help me, Axel!" Demyx cried, jumping up and grabbing him by the collar to shake him vigorously. "We have to think of some way for me to see him without him seeing me!"
"What's this 'we'?" Axel flicked him on the forehead. "I don't recall signing up for anything like this."
The blond stared at him with wide, pleading eyes. “You mean you won’t help me?”
“Don’t give me that puppy look,” Axel said with a wince, pushing Demyx away. “Either way, there’s nothing I can do about it right now, so go… I don’t know, listen to your crazy sitar music or something.” He made shooing motions with his hands.
Demyx beamed. “So you will help me?”
“We’ll see,” he muttered, which Demyx knew in Axel-speak meant yes. “Now seriously, go get your mind off of it before you drive me crazy.”
Grinning, Demyx hugged him and managed to chirp out, “Okay!” before ducking the swipe Axel made at his head and bouncing into his room. He could hear Axel’s enraged yelling about how he didn’t like hugs, dammit, but Demyx couldn’t care less. He had a plan.
A few minutes later, he poked his head back out into the main room. "Axel?"
"What, Dem?" asked Axel, sounding somewhat annoyed.
"Out of curiosity, what happened to my sitar music that is definitely not crazy? Did you do something to it?"
Axel blinked. "Nope. This place is a mess, Dem, I'm sure you'll find it eventually."
"Huh." Demyx shrugged to himself and went to pop something else in the stereo.
--
Okay, so Demyx didn’t actually have a plan. What he had was a half-formed idea, which included seeing Zexion again as soon as possible without actually revealing his identity and exploiting Axel’s brain for any and all stalking purposes. ‘Stalking’ was probably a bad word, since he didn’t really consider it stalking, but…
Well, no. It was stalking. Totally.
Thus the next day found Demyx and Axel skulking around outside the double doors of the university’s gigantic library, Demyx dithering and pacing anxiously while Axel calmly sat on the steps and watched the doors for any sign of Zexion.
“This isn’t going to work if you’re in plain sight, you know,” the redhead pointed out wryly as Demyx passed him for the umpteenth time, wringing his hands nervously.
"He -- he doesn't even know who I am!" Demyx cried almost hysterically. "The only place he sees me is at the bookstore, he won't think that I'd be -"
"Look, here he comes," Axel cut in, grinning.
Demyx was very proud of the fact that he did not squeak like a frightened rodent at that moment. He did, however, pull off a rather spectacular dive behind one of the stone banisters, peeking out apprehensively.
Zexion walked out of the library, a book in hand. Demyx peered closer. Huh. Was that Crime and Punishment? Lucky he'd gotten it the other day - maybe he could bring it up after enough time had passed that Zexion would have forgotten about the ‘cookie sex fiasco’, as Demyx had taken to calling it. And, come to think of it, once he'd figured out how to pronounce the author's name.
"Hello, Axel," Zexion's voice cut into his thoughts. Demyx realized, much to his alarm, that the slate-haired young man was heading straight for his roommate. Well, damn.
He pressed himself flatter against the banister, hunching down, and prayed that Zexion couldn’t hear notice his alarmingly fast breathing. Dammit, lungs, get ahold of yourselves! he mentally his body. This is not the time for hyperventilating!
“Yo,” Axel greeted Zexion amicably. “How’s it going?”
“Fine,” was Zexion’s clipped response. He didn’t seem inclined to offer anything else, yet he made no move to leave.
Axel rubbed the back of his neck. “Did you need something?”
Demyx took a quick peek over the banister to find that Zexion was staring at a point somewhere beyond Axel’s shoulder. AKA, right. In. His. Direction.
It took a lot of effort to not faint.
“No,” Zexion murmured eventually.
"You sure? You seem a little preoccupied," Axel replied. "Why don't you sit down?"
Oh, Axel was going to die when they got back. Preferably very slowly, and as painfully as Demyx could manage. But at least Zexion would probably say n-
"Very well," Zexion said after a moment. God dammit.
Demyx tried to shrink into the banister as he heard Zexion's steps approaching. A pause, and then his cool voice said, "What are you doing down there?"
Demyx immediately jumped up, brushing himself off. "Um! I was looking for... uh ...my quarter!"
“I see,” Zexion responded, eyebrows raised in a way that said he didn’t see, actually, and that he thought Demyx was mildly insane.
Demyx cursed his luck and hopped back over the banister to join the other two boys. “Yep,” he laughed nervously. “Couldn’t find it, though. Too bad!”
“Yeah, too bad,” Axel echoed, grinning slyly at him from over Zexion’s shoulder.
Demyx suppressed the urge to glare and forced himself to smile, despite his overwhelming nervousness at having Zexion so close - and willingly, too! He made himself sit down, leaving ample room for Zexion to sit next beside him, although he probably would have dropped dead right on the spot if that happened.
Zexion took the seat. Demyx tried not to choke on his own tongue. "So, what brings the pair of you here?"
"Oh, little of this, little of that," Axel said cheerily. "Studies call. Right?"
Demyx jumped up again. "R-right! I, ah, just remembered, Axel! I've got an assignment due for my next class I haven't finished yet! See you later!" He waved, just a touch spastically, and ran off.
--
An hour later, Axel found his roommate sitting next to a fountain near a classroom building on campus, one hand idly splashing in the water.
“Demyx,” he said as he approached the blond, appearing tired and worn out and even somewhat out of breath. “What the hell, man? I’ve been looking everywhere for you. You took off pretty fast.”
Demyx glared sullenly. “I hate you.”
“What?” With a surprised look, Axel took a step closer and said, “What are you talking about? I was helping you.”
“Helping me ruin my life,” he moaned in a sudden bout of self-pity, abruptly slumping to cover his face with his hands. “That was the second most embarrassing moment of my life!”
Axel paused for a moment. “Only the second?” he asked tentatively.
“Sex cookie incident,” Demyx blurted morosely.
Axel stared at his roommate with an expression that was quizzical, bordering on horrified. "...Do I even want to know?"
Demyx blushed. "N-not like that! I just - I was just watching Zexion -"
"Stalking him, you mean -"
"And he looked over, so I picked up a random book and it turned out to be The Cookie Kama Sutra. And I realized that and made a commotion and accidentally knocked over some bookshelves and Zexion came over and I WANTED TO DIE," Demyx huffed.
"What is it about this guy that turns you into Creepy McStalkerpants, anyway?" asked Axel with an inquisitive arch of his eyebrows.
"I…" Demyx suddenly looked shy, casting his gaze to the side. "I dunno. It's a whole bunch of little things."
"Uh huh," Axel said wryly, crossing his arms. "You just like his ass."
"It's not that!" He bit his lip. "The... the first time I saw him..."
"Yeah?" Axel pressed.
"He was playing the piano," Demyx said softly. "In one of the music practice rooms. And he played beautifully, I had to see who it was. I never let on that I was there, just sat and watched and listened. Thought I'd like to know more about him."
"And then?" Axel pressed curiously.
"I thought it was totally chance, and we'd never meet again," Demyx murmured. "But then I saw him working at the bookstore. I was just curious back then, that was all, but I wanted to know him better . . . . so I sat, and watched."
"You? Sitting and watching? That's hard to believe," the redhead commented.
"Axel. But anyway," Demyx continued, "he seemed so . . . . different. Like, all that beauty in his music was gone. I didn't get it, so I just kept watching. And then, as time went on, I'd catch a glimpse of it every now and then. And I kept wanting to see it more and more. And, well . . . ." The blond shrugged. "It turned into all this."
“You have no life,” Axel said, but he was smiling almost softly, and he grabbed Demyx’s hands and yanked him to his feet without preamble. “Come on, Mr. Creepy. Let’s go home and have some Easy Mac.”
“But I want real food,” Demyx grumbled as he allowed himself to be dragged along. He felt drained from his romantic stalking explanation, and despite his complaints, dinner sounded really good right about now, microwaved or not.
“Too bad, I’m making macaroni and cheese, and you’re going to love it.” He flicked Demyx’s ear good-naturedly. “Deal with it.”
“Oww!” Attempting a scowl, the blond rubbed the side of his head and said, “For all the trouble you caused today, you could at least cook something a little more decent.”
Axel grinned widely. “Ah, but you have yet to hear my master plan!”
"Master plan?" Demyx echoed skeptically. "If it's anything like today's, thanks, but no thanks."
"Aw, c'mon, Dem," Axel protested. "Have a little more faith! Don't you trust me?"
"Well, when you put it like that...” He pretended to look thoughtful. “No. I don't. Not at all."
"Awww, c'mon. You'll see. It's brilliant!"
"I'm sure..."
--
Axel’s master plan, as he’d put it, consisted of a disguise. A black hoodie and sunglasses, to be exact. And Demyx thought it was genius.
“So now you can go in and be as creepy as you want and he’ll never even know it’s you,” Axel explained as Demyx put his hood up, staring at himself in their cramped bathroom mirror. He looked shapeless beneath the baggy material of the hoodie, and the sunglasses effectively hid his ocean eyes. It was perfect.
“Do you really think it will work?” asked Demyx as he continued examining himself. He tugged the hood down a little further to shadow his hair.
"Sure!" Axel assured him confidently. "No one'll be the wiser for it. Simple, but effective."
Demyx grinned, giving Axel a thumbs up, and headed off to the university bookstore.
It was a little harder to see Zexion through the dark glasses, he found upon arrival, but hey, for the chance to scope him out unnoticed, it was totally worth it. Demyx held a book in front of his face for the sake of appearances - Jane Austen today, which was certainly a lot better than cookie sex - but really, he was blatantly staring at Zexion from behind his glasses, secure in his anonymity.
Right up until Zexion picked up a stack of books and headed toward him, anyway. That was when he started panicking a little.
It was silly, he told himself. He was masterfully disguised, and there was no way Zexion could know that -
"Demyx?"
The part of Demyx's brain that wasn't utterly mortified was amazed that the object of his affection (obsession) knew his name. "Y-yes?" he answered immediately, unable to stop himself.
If he hadn't known better, he would have sworn Zexion had the tiniest hint of a smirk. "Why are you dressed like that?"
"Um," he said, mentally stumbling over excuses. "What do you mean? This is, uh… totally normal!”
"Okay." Throwing him the same strange look he always did, Zexion glanced at the blond’s outfit and pointed out, “Because it looks like you’re trying to disguise yourself.” A pause. “Rather badly, at that.”
“Err.” Okay, definitely panic time. “I don't want people knowing I… really like books?”
Zexion blinked. "You do realize that you've been coming here every day long enough that anyone who cares to know that probably does?"
Demyx froze. Zexion had noticed? Not good, really not good! "Um, well, I... bye!" he burst out, dropping Jane Austen at the slate-haired boy's feet and running past him and through the exit.
--
"So, how was it?"
Demyx glared at his roommate. "An absolute disaster. I'm never taking your advice again."
Axel blinked. “Define ‘absolute disaster’.”
Irritably throwing the sunglasses somewhere in Axel’s general directon, the blond muttered something and went about tugging off the hoodie, where it unfortunately got stuck on his head.
“What was that?” Axel asked in amusement.
“I said,” Demyx grumbled, somewhat muffled, “that he knew it was me immediately, so I ran away again!”
Axel sighed. "You gotta stop doing that, Dem. Or do you really want this little obsession of yours to go nowhere that much?"
"No," Demyx muttered sullenly, finally tugging off the hoodie and putting his head in his hands. "But I mean, c'mon, what'm I supposed to do, Axel? He knows I'm stalking him now. For sure."
"And...?"
"And I can't go back again! Just can't. I'd be way too embarrassed..."
"I think you're overreacting, Dem," Axel said casually, leaning back in his chair. "So he knows you go to the bookstore every day, so what?"
"My life is over," Demyx replied, flopping onto the couch dramatically.
Axel rolled his eyes. “You’re not going to ask me to help you commit honorable suicide again, are you?”
“No.” The blond buried his face against a cushion. “I’m just going to stay here until I either turn into dust or Zexion stops hating me.”
“God, you’re dramatic,” Axel muttered as he stretched out a long leg to kick the side of the couch.
“You’re not helping.”
“Whatever. Maybe this cheer you up.” He paused for a moment to dig underneath the arm chair cushion before producing a pair of patterned boxers and unceremoniously flinging them at Demyx’s head. “I believe those are yours.”
Demyx blinked and sat up, eyeing his lucky pair of music note boxers with something akin to awe. “Where did you find these?”
“Um.” The redhead looks distinctly uncomfortable. “My boyfriend swiped them thinking they were mine.”
Demyx nearly choked. “Your boyfriend steals your underwear?”
"Well. Um. He -"
“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” Demyx interrupted. “Forget that. You have a boyfriend?"
Axel glared. "Now that was uncalled for. Are you implying I'm unattractive?"
"No. Though I'd never do you if we were the last two men on earth," Demyx huffed. "I'm implying that you're a jackass and it's amazing anyone would put up with that longer than a one night stand."
"Not cool, Dem." Axel crossed his arms and glared at the coffee table with an expression that was nearly a pout, but of course was not, as Axel was a man - a manly man, all "hips don't lie" jokes aside - and would never do something as sissy as pouting. "Oh, but that reminds me. Maybe you should meet him sometime."
"What d'you mean?"
Axel shrugged. "He always asks about you. Curious kid. I figure, hey, introducing the two of you couldn't hurt, right?"
Clutching his lucky boxers to his chest, Demyx gave him a suspicious look and said, “Okay, but if he steals any more of my stuff…” He trailed off threateningly.
Axel held up his hands in defense. “Hey, it’s not my fault I’m sexy. He was trying to steal my underwear, not yours.”
“I guess.” Demyx still looked distrusftful.
With a roll of his eyes, Axel leaned forward a bit and said, “If it freaks you out that much, just lock your door, dumbass.”
“Fine, I’ll meet him,” Demyx mumbled, finally gathering the energy to push himself off the couch. He had homework to do and a sitar to practice, and sitting around moping wasn’t going to help anything. He really, really needed to stop thinking about this…
“Great!” Axel crowed, flashing him a thumbs up. “I’ll let him know.”
"Sure." Demyx trudged into his room, closing the door behind him dejectedly.
--
"You feeling all right, Demy?"
"Huh?" Demyx looked up from where he'd been picking absently at his pizza crust.
Luxord shrugged, spearing a ravioli with his fork and chewing on it thoughtfully. "You seem a touch under the weather lately, that's all. Is something bothering you?"
"Well, um," Demyx stammered blushing, "not much, no, I just -"
And then he caught sight of a certain slate-haired, bookstore-working young man heading in his direction, and froze. Luckily, he didn’t do anything to inflict early heart failure on Demyx, aside from giving him a small nod of acknowledgement on his way to sit at a nearby table, and the blond slumped in his seat in relief.
Luxord followed his line of sight and smirked. “I suspect you’re not being entirely truthful with me, Demy. Tell me, who is that?”
“Zexion,” Demyx said without thinking, mentally kicking himself immediately afterwards. What the hell was he doing?
“And why are you staring at him like that?”
“N-no reason,” he lied, snapping his gaze away and back down to his dinner. It didn’t look so appetizing anymore. “Just surprised to see him here, that’s all.”
"Of course," Luxord drawled, looking for all the world like a cat that had just caught a particularly tasty canary. "Because it's perfectly natural to practically swoon like a lovestruck maiden at the mere sight of someone you didn't expect to see."
"Hey!" Demyx cried indignantly. "I was not swoo-" His eyes flicked back to Zexion's table, and whatever comeback he’d been preparing instantly fell short.
"Demy? Weren't you saying something?" Luxord remarked after a few moments, twisting in his seat to follow Demyx's shocked gaze. "Ah."
Demyx's eyes slowly narrowed as he observed the cute blond that had dared to sit by Zexion. And were they - oh god, they were! Leaning in towards each other, whispering in each other's ears, the kind of sweet nothings young stupid couples did when they thought the world revolved around them and nobody would watch their sickening display.
"That little whore," he mumbled venomously, accompanying the words with a rather vicious bite into his pizza.
Luxord glanced back to him, eyebrows raised. "Why, Demy, such foul language! One would hardly expect it of you."
“Only when people deserve it,” he growled, shooting an acidic glare in the stupid blond’s direction. Why the hell had he never seen him around Zexion before? At that moment, they looked practically attached at the hip, and was he giving Zexion a CD?
“I don’t think unsuspecting strangers should deserve your wrath so easily.” Luxord gave him a lazy grin. “Unless you were lying just a moment ago.”
Well, he’d already ruined his cover, so he might as well come clean. “Okay, so I may have a slight obsession with Zexion,” he admitted grumpily as he tore almost violently into his pizza. It was strange how quickly anger fueled his appetite.
“A slight obsession,” Luxord repeated with a sarcastic drawl.
“It doesn’t matter anymore. I was going to give up on him, anyway.”
“And that’s why you look like you’re going to murder that blond in his sleep,” the other boy noted dryly.
Demyx glared. "Zexion's too good for that little... punk," he snarled. "Can you blame a guy for getting jealous?"
"I can when went the guy in question is jealous of someone he's supposedly giving up on," Luxord replied in a casual tone, shoving another ravioli in his mouth.
“Well…” Flustered and annoyed, Demyx abruptly stood with his now-empty plate and purposely did not look Zexion’s direction, no matter how much he wanted to. “If you’re just going to tease me about it, then I’ll go talk to someone else.”
“That’s entirely unneccessary,” Luxord murmured, placidly eating his dinner. “I’m being perfectly sympathetic. I’m merely trying to point out that you haven’t quite given up on him yet.”
Demyx stared at his friend for a moment before wilting, sliding back into his seat dismally. “You’re right, I haven’t. Ugh.” He thumped his head against the table. “What am I going to do?”
“Either give up on him for good or double your efforts,” Luxord suggested.
“Double my efforts,” Demyx laughed. “Yeah, right. Last time I tried that, I ended up making things worse.”
Luxord raised his eyebrows curiously but refrained from asking any questions. “Perhaps you simply went about it the wrong way.”
“Yeah, right.” He gave his friend a depressed look. “Or maybe it really is time to just forget Zexion.”
Luxord’s gaze momentarily flickered above Demyx’s head. “I suggest being quiet for now.”
“Huh?” Blinking in confusion, the blond sat up a little and asked, “What d’you mean?”
Luxord merely motioned subtly behind him, where the object of Demyx’s affection and the aforementioned blond were leaving their table, their rendezvous apparently over.
Demyx seethed in silent anger as the Stupid Whore, which he had now mentally dubbed him, swept past their table and even waved to Zexion before they parted ways. At least they hadn’t kissed - Demyx didn’t think his heart could have taken that. He was having a hard enough time dealing with the fact that The Boy Who Hated Everything apparently had a soft spot for short blonds with big blue eyes.
“Who is that, anyway?” Demyx growled.
“The boy with Zexion?” Luxord looked thoughtful. “No, I’m afraid I don’t. I apologize.”
Demyx had to focus very hard on not throttling everything within range. “I’m gonna find out.”
Watching as his friend surged to his feet again, Luxord merely heaved a soft sigh and asked, “Are you sure that’s wise?”
“Yes,” Demyx snapped, then paused, a sheepish expression covering his face. “Uh, and thanks for lunch. I’ll see you in class?”
“Of course.”
--
"That stupid whore," Demyx seethed as he stormed into the apartment.
Axel looked up from his book. Was that The Cookie Kama Sutra? Demyx carefully blocked that thought from his mind and refused to look at the book's cover again. "What happened now?"
"Zexion has a - a -" Demyx couldn't bring himself to say it.
"A what?" Axel tilted his head to the side curiously.
"A crumpet!" Demyx yelled, tears of fury stinging his eyes.
"A crumpet?" Axel looked rather dumbfounded at this. "What's wrong with that?"
"Some kid was at the dining hall with him today, hanging on every damn word he had to say!" Demyx hissed. "And you ask me what's wrong?"
A look of understanding dawned upon Axel's features. "Ah. Dem?"
"Yeah?"
"I think the term you're looking for is strumpet, not crumpet. A crumpet is a kind of pastry -- biscuit - breakfast - thing. However, as the term usually applies to ladies of, ah… negotiable virtue, I don't think you should really be using it," Axel informed him solemnly.
“Whatever,” Demyx snapped. “He’s a stupid whore and I hate him.”
Axel very carefully scooted away from his infuriated roommate, just in case Demyx decided to get violent. “Who’s this ‘him’, anyway?”
“I…” He suddenly deflated. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know him, but you still hate him,” Axel commented with disbelief.
Demyx turned his ocean gaze to Axel. “Well, Zexion seems to like him, which is enough reason for me.”
“I see,” Axel said, even though he really didn’t. He thought Demyx was kind of crazy, to be honest. “And what are you going to do about it?”
“I have no idea.” All of Demyx’s anger dissolved back into the usual depression, and he sat on the floor, foregoing his usual moping spot on the couch for once. “You wouldn’t happen to have any brilliant plans, would you?”
Axel shook his head sadly. “Nope. But Roxas wants to meet you tomorrow, if that’s okay.”
Demyx shrugged. “Sure, whatever you want.”
"All right, cool." Axel grinned. "Up for more Easy Mac?"
"Sure, whatever." Demyx waved dejectedly as he headed off to his room. Damn. He couldn't even find his favorite CD to cheer him up.
--
"Axel, is he ever going to get here?" Demyx whined, kicking his legs gently.
Axel checked his watch. "He said he'd meet us at the broken wishbone fountain at noon. We're here, it's time, I swear he's going to be here. Have a little faith, Dem."
Demyx grunted something unintelligibly and continued kicking his legs back and forth, resisting the urge to reach into the fountain and splash the redhead. He was just about to start complaining about Axel’s late boyfriend again when he noticed someone approaching, and nearly fell backward into the fountain.
It was the Stupid Whore.
“That’s him,” he hissed, pointing with a shaking finger.
“Huh?” Axel gave him a confused look. “Wait, you know Roxas already?”
“No,” Demyx spat. “It’s the stupid whore!” Then he did a double take. “Wait, what? That’s Roxas?”
Roxas's eyes narrowed. "What did you call me?" he growled indignantly as he slowed to a stop in front of the other two boys.
Demyx ignored this and instead turned to his roommate. "Axel, Roxas is cheating on you! I saw him with Zexion just yesterday!"
“What?” Roxas shrieked at the same time that Axel started laughing.
“That’s ridiculous,” Axel said, looking unfairly amused. “I’m way hotter than Zexion.”
Demyx started to say a few choice words about what exactly he thought of Zexion’s appearance when he remembered that Roxas was here, and he definitely didn’t want the blond knowing about that. Ever.
“But you were whispering sweet nothings in each other’s ears!” he protested. “You were leaning!”
Roxas stared. “What the hell are you talking about? We were talking.”
“This isn’t going very well,” Axel sighed heavily, putting a hand to his forehead in exasperation. “Demyx, Roxas wasn’t cheating. Roxas, Demyx is a freak. Can you guys try not hating each other?”
"I didn't even do anything!" Roxas protested.
Demyx pointed at him dramatically. "Don't lie! I saw you two, practically joined at the hip, cooing at each other as if everyone couldn't see! And - and - you gave him a CD!" That was the clincher right there, oh yes it was. Roxas was going to get divine justice for his wrongs.
Roxas stared at him as if he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. "Zexion is my friend," he said slowly. "Am I not allowed to recommend music to my friend?"
"See, Dem? You were just overreacting," Axel chimed in.
"But - but -" Demyx protested weakly.
"And besides, Zexion's attentions are... well, let's just say I wouldn't have a chance even if I wanted to," Roxas continued, folding his arms over his chest.
"What do you mean?" Demyx asked, confused.
The shorter blond smirked. "Tell you what - why don't you ask him yourself the next time you see him. And tell him Roxas told you to."
Well, that was cryptic. Demyx blinked. "What do you mean by that?"
Roxas's self-satisfied little smirk widened. "Why don't you ask him and find out, hm?"
"But…” So soon after the cookie sex incident… and the quarter mishap… and the pseudo-disguise fiasco?
“Are you guys going to stand around being vague all day, or can we go do something?” Axel cut into their conversation unceremoniously. “You guys are boring.”
Roxas promptly kicked him in the shin, ignoring the redhead’s outraged hiss of pain. “I am not boring.”
Demyx stifled a laugh. Maybe Roxas wasn’t so bad after all.
--
Today was the day. For good or bad, today Demyx would ask Zexion just what Roxas had meant when he'd mentioned he wouldn't have a chance with the slate-haired boy anyway.
Now if only he could walk into the bookstore, let alone stay there long enough to ask Zexion such a thing.
The blond gulped and braced himself. He could do this. Yeah. Of course he could.
…Dear god, what had he been thinking? He couldn't do anything like that!
He was just about to turn tail and run and come back to try another day when a flat voice said from behind him, “Demyx. Could you move, please?”
It took every ounce of control in his body to not jump three feet into the air and scream. Instead, he turned around and mentally began panicking at the sight of the slate-haired object of his affections standing behind him, tapping his foot impatiently. “Uh, sorry!” he said as he belatedly realized he’d been blocking the doorway.
Zexion just stared at him coolly until he moved out of the way. "You haven't been by in a while," he remarked tonelessly as he walked past the blond into the bookstore.
"R-really? Well, um, guess I've - I've been busier than I thought!" Demyx laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head as he followed the other boy. "I, uh, didn't think you'd notice."
Zexion shrugged. "I've grown accustomed to seeing you in the bookstore. You've been well, then?"
"Y...yeah." Was it him, or was Zexion really asking how he was doing?
“That’s good,” said the Zexion as they made their way toward the check-out counter where he worked. He clipped his nametag to his shirt and went about smoothing down the black polo the bookstore dictated he wore, and Demyx felt a short flash a panic that their exchange would come to an end without him asking about what Roxas had said.
“How are you?” Demyx blurted in an attempt to keep the conversation rolling.
Zexion turned towards him with just a trace of surprise on his features. "I'm well," he said quietly at last.
"Roxas mentioned something the other day," Demyx said, then blushed. "He, um. He's my roommate's boyfriend. Anyway, he said I should ask you about something..."
"Yes?" Zexion said expectantly after a few moments.
Demyx flushed deeply, making a conscious effort to not wring his hands. "Well, he - he said that even if he wanted to go out with you, he wouldn't have a chance. And, well, I was curious and he said to ask you..."
Zexion arched his eyebrows. "What?"
Looking down at the ugly carpet of the bookstore, Demyx bit his lip and said, "Uh, he just told me to ask you why you said that."
Zexion paused where he'd been pulling out a roll of journal tape to replace in the cash register. "Oh."
Demyx watched Zexion expectantly, waiting for his response.
At last the other boy replied, "I have no interest in Roxas, and he knows that. That's probably what he meant."
"Oh," Demyx said, looking down. "So it's not 'cause... you like someone else or something?"
A moment's hesitation, and Zexion answered, "No. I have no interest in anyone."
"Oh," Demyx said again.
A few awkward moments passed before Zexion said, "Is that all, Demyx?"
"Um. Well. Yes?" Demyx managed. "I. Um. I guess."
"Then if you could move? You're blocking the register, and I have to organize these on the shelves." Zexion heaved a stack of books into his arms and pushed past Demyx.
"Wait!" Demyx spun and caught hold of the other boy's arm; the books fell to the floor in a messy heap, and he blushed in embarrassment. "I'm - oh, I'm so -"
"What, Demyx?" Zexion sounded really annoyed now, and Demyx cringed. Still, he plunged forward.
"I… I like you!"
Silence. Demyx squeezed his eyes shut, preparing for rejection and humiliation. Hey, it couldn't be worse than cookie sex, right?
"Did Roxas put you up to this?" Zexion asked at last. "It's not going to work, you know."
Demyx blinked and looked up at Zexion, then cringed at his expression. Or rather, lack thereof. "He - he didn't," he muttered, cursing his mouth's tendency to kick into autopilot at the worst times. "Why would he do something like that?"
"Because you don't like me," Zexion said flatly. "He put you up to this. He told you, didn't he?"
A blink. "Told me about what?"
Zexion made an agitated waving motion in the air with his hands. "The questions, your things, all of it, everything. Am I right?"
“My… things?” Demyx asked in utter confusion. “What’re you talking about?”
“I don’t appreciate you playing dumb, Demyx. Didn’t Roxas tell you he’s the one who’s been taking your music for me?”
“My music,” Demyx repeated stupidly, suddenly remembering the CD passed between Zexion and Roxas at dinner. His eyes widened. “Wait. All my missing CDs-“ he nearly choked on the realization. “You have them?”
Zexion pursed his lips in irritation. “Don’t act like you didn’t already know.”
Demyx knew he was gaping, but he couldn’t help himself. “I didn’t.”
More silence. Zexion’s eyes widened slightly, and anyone other than his own personal stalker, AKA Demyx, wouldn’t have noticed. But he did.
“Oh,” said Zexion eventually. He set down the stack of books on the counter with a resounding thud and gave Demyx a thoughtful look. “Does that mean you actually like me?”
“…Yeah,” Demyx answered after a moment’s hesitation, almost shyly, watching Zexion’s face very carefully for any sliver of emotion. He didn’t find much, except for what he thought could have been a shadow of relief.
“That’s very fortunate,” Zexion said.
Demyx stared at Zexion, uncomprehending. "Why… is that?"
Zexion stared back. "You don't get it?"
"Get what?" Demyx replied.
"You… I…” Zexion sighed in exasperation. "Why do you think I asked Roxas to steal your things?"
Demyx scrunched his nose in concentration. “Um. Because you wanted my music?”
Sighing, Zexion wiped his face with his palm and pressed on, “And did you think I wanted your underwear, too?”
“Er.” Demyx’s brain froze. He’d nearly forgotten about the lucky boxer incident. “I dunno?” he offered weakly.
Zexion seemed nearly apopleptic at this pronouncement. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Raised a hand in a kind of desperate gesture, only to let it drop halfway. And finally, he managed, "Then allow me to . . . . to put it in a way that you can understand." Demyx tilted his head curiously, confused up until the point where Zexion settled his hands on the blond's waist and pulled him flush against his chest, in front of the entire bookstore, and kissed him.
Kissing Zexion was nothing like Demyx had imagined, and Demyx had imagined it a lot. Zexion’s lips looked thin and cold, the way they were always pursed in a stony frown, but they were actually quite soft and warm. He sighed, allowing himself to sway against the slate-haired man for a moment before his brain caught up to his senses, and-
“Holy shit,” he said in final, sudden realization. “You-?” He couldn’t finish the sentence, but Zexion caught his meaning.
Zexion nodded.
"Well," he muttered. "Um. Well."
"I just kissed you and all you can say is 'well'?" Zexion demanded with barely perceptible hint of panic in his voice.
Demyx opened his mouth to speak, and suddenly realized that speaking probably wasn't the best option right now. So instead he pulled Zexion in for another kiss. A proper one, this time.
--
"You know, Zexion," Axel remarked one day, as he and Zexion and Demyx and Roxas were reclining on the lawn with their paopu smoothies, "Demyx used to call you The Boy Who Hated Everything. Back when he first started talking about you, I mean, and didn't know your name yet."
Zexion arched a single slate-gray eyebrow. "Is that so?" He smirked over at his boyfriend, who stuck his tongue out in response. "It should have been 'The Boy Who Kind of Really Liked Demyx,' in my opinion."
“It would’ve been helpful if you’d told me that instead of, you know, hiring Roxas to steal my favorite boxers,” Demyx teased.
“Hey,” the blue-eyed blond protested, “don’t bring me into this, you guys. Zexion is manipulative. He forced me into the whole thing!”
"Suuuure," Demyx laughed, kissing Zexion affectionately on the cheek. "Hey, whatever works, right?"
Zexion did not reply, but he was smiling.
Axel laughed. “I’m just glad my boyfriend’s not really a kleptomaniac freak.” He paused thoughtfully as he took a sip of his smoothie, a mischievous grin growing on his face. “Although I have been missing my copy of The Cookie Kama Sutra lately.”
“Hey, don’t look at me,” Roxas said. “If I had it, you’d know.”
Flushing, Demyx quietly choked on his drink and wisely chose not to say a word.
Authors: villanelle_koi, _ree
Pairing: Zexion/Demyx
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Demyx would see him every day, working at the university bookstore. Privately he would call him The Boy Who Hated Everything. But Demyx didn't know that The Boy Who Hated Everything was actually The Boy Who Kind of Liked Demyx.
Kind of Awkward
Looking back, The Cookie Kama Sutra was probably not the best choice for Demyx’s daily stare-at-Zexion-while-hiding-behind-a-book session. It wasn’t like he’d chosen it on purpose - no, nothing like that. The moment he’d spied the slate-haired boy behind the check-out counter, he’d grabbed the nearest thing with binding and thick pages and had shoved his nose into it, peeking out at Zexion over the top.
And then Zexion had glanced in his direction, and Demyx had immediately looked down, and promptly yelped and threw the book across the store and into a nearby shelf.
Gingerbread men should never be in that kind of position, he thought wildly as all the blood in his body seemingly rushed into his cheeks. Then he noticed that practically everyone in the bookstore was staring at him, and he gulped in embarrassment before hurrying to retrieve the thrown book and replace it on the shelf.
He was sure Zexion was staring at him, too. How could he not? Demyx had just totally screwed up.
A flustered moment later and the blond was staring woefully at the floor. Or, more precisely, at the contents of the bookshelf which were now so charmingly splayed across it. He'd just wanted to put back the cookie sex book and find a somewhat cooler one to salvage his honor, dammit! He bent to pick up the scattered books.
"Move back, I'll do it," an apathetic voice broke in. Demyx had to nearly jam his fist in his mouth to keep from screaming. Great. Just great. Zexion. AKA The Boy Who Hated Everything, Everything probably including Demyx by now if it hadn't before. His life was officially over.
He was about to panic and assure Zexion that no, no, it was okay, he didn’t mind picking it up, but then Demyx made the unfortunate mistake of actually looking at Zexion and suddenly forgot everything he was going to say. The other boy was stooped with his back to Demyx, gathering as many books as possible, and Demyx had just made a mental note that Zexion was wearing really nice pants when he realized that, dear god, he was staring at his ass.
Mortified, he made a somewhat strangled noise and quickly averted his eyes. Inquisitively, Zexion turned to look at him over his shoulder, and Demyx practically squeaked.
“Sorry,” he said, flustered, then cleared his throat and attempted a more normal tone of voice. “Here, let me help…”
"No," Zexion said quickly. "The offer is appreciated, but I don't want you messing up anything more than you already have."
So Demyx was stuck hovering around the bookshelf anxiously, squirming a little every time Zexion bent over to pick up a book (and dear lord, how long could one person take rearranging a damn bookshelf?) and gave him a view of that cute little train of thought was stopping right there. "I'm really sorry..."
"Whatever." Zexion finished putting the last book in place and turned to him, forcing a blank smile onto his face. "Were you looking for something?"
Demyx froze. Oh. Um. Well. "My music textbook!" he managed weakly. "I. Um. Need it! For my. Music class. Yeah. My music book." Oh, yes, what an ingenious save. "Could you, uh, point me to them?"
Zexion gave him a strange look. "They're downstairs. Along with all of the other textbooks."
This was right around the point where Demyx started mentally kicking himself.
“Oh, uh. Right.” Rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, he cast a glance at the steps leading to the lower level, which were situated right next to a bright yellow sign reading: TEXTBOOKS. “Thanks for your help, then.”
Zexion just nodded, the forced polite smile on his face fading as Demyx turned and bounded down the steps.
This is officially the worst day of my life, he thought morosely as he hid his face in embarrassment, slinking behind the textbook shelves. He didn’t actually need a book for music class, but he figured that plucking something out of the English section would be suitable for impressing Zexion with his faux-literary knowledge and intelligence. Maybe then Zexion would even forget that he hated him. Or that he’d accidentally spilled half of the Non-Fiction section all over the floor.
He randomly selected the thickest-looking book he could find - Crime and Punishment, upon closer inspection - and made a face at the impossible-to-pronounce author’s name before trudging back upstairs, steeling himself against the cold look Zexion would undoubtedly give him on sight.
Zexion just threw a weird look at the book, then said flatly, "Will that be all for you today?"
Demyx was busy staring at Zexion's eyes. Very pretty, really, that lovely little dark shade of blue and -
"Did you hear me?"
"What, what?" Demyx snapped out of his little reverie.
"Will. That. Be. All. For. You?" Zexion said, very slowly, emphasizing each word carefully.
Demyx blushed. "Oh! Um. Y-yes. Thank you."
With another odd look in Demyx’s direction, the other boy wordlessly held out the university bookstore bag holding Crime and Punishment and raised his eyebrows.
Demyx snatched it up hastily, tucking it beneath his arm and fighting off a cliché blush. Stuttering another thank you, he forgot to take the receipt Zexion offered and rushed out of the store as quickly as possible.
--
“I hate my life,” Demyx moaned theatrically as he flung his bag at his roommate and crashed onto the couch.
Axel just blinked from his spot on the arm chair, looking unfairly amused as he dodged the bag flying at his face and observed his roommate’s usual dramatics. “What happened this time?” He peered at the university’s crest on the outside of Demyx’s purchase. “Loverboy not there today?”
Demyx sat up with a glare. "Do NOT call him 'loverboy'. And he was there." He groaned and flopped theatrically onto the plush cushions again. "I just happened to screw everything up. My life is over now." He looked over at his roommate. "Care to help me commit ritual seppuku?"
"Okay, one: no, I wouldn't. Two: you're not a samurai, so you technically can't commit ritual seppuku. And three: burning alive would be a lot more fun."
Glare. "You're morbid, Axel."
The redhead shrugged. "Hey, just trying to help, Dem."
"Some help you are," he replied sourly, flopping down so he was stretched across the couch cushions. "Honestly. Never an ounce of sympathy from you, I swear."
Axel spread his hands defensively. “Did you really expect any?”
“No,” he grumbled, staring gloomily at the ceiling. Stupid ceiling. It didn’t have to worry about things like fatally embarrassing itself in front of awesome people like Zexion. Frowning, he threw his arm over his eyes so he didn’t have to look at it anymore and groaned, “Axel, what should I do?”
Shrugging, Axel pulled Crime and Punishment out of its bag and tossed it at Demyx’s lap. “Why don’t you read your book?”
Demyx allowed it to bounce sadly off his legs and onto the floor. “I meant about Zexion!”
"You still could read your book."
"Would you stop harping on about the book?" Demyx cried indignantly. "I'm going through a romantic crisis! I don't have time to think about literature!"
"Well," Axel said thoughtfully, "considering it's Zexion we're talking about, you should probably make the time to think about literature. He's a reading buff, from what I hear. Bet he has wet dreams about going to work -"
"AXEL!" Demyx shot up off the couch, his face a brilliant crimson color. "Don't say things like that!"
"Why not?" His roommate grinned deviously. "Oh, wait - of course, I'm not allowed to say anything that could lead to you throwing me out of the apartment for an impromptu masturba-"
"AXEL, SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
“Whatever,” Axel said, waving him off, still wearing that Machiavellian smirk as he slid out of his chair and pointed at Demyx. “Sit around and mope all you want. Just don’t expect me to go to the bookstore for you the next time you need something and you’re too embarrassed to do it yourself.”
“Oh my god.” Demyx’s gaped at him with bulging eyes. “You’re right.”
Axel looked smug. “Damn right I am. So get off your ass and-“
“I can never go back!” the blond cut in dramatically, and he sat up so quickly that he nearly collided with his roommate.
“Ugh,” Axel muttered to no one in particular, wiping his face in exasperation. “Here we go…”
"I can't ever show my face to Zexion again!" Demyx wailed mournfully, ignoring Axel's comment. "Not ever, ever, ever!"
Axel snorted derisively. "What, so you're never going to see him again? No objections from me. Maybe then I can actually get you to talk sense every once in a while."
Demyx froze. "Never... see Zexion again?"
Axel frowned. "Well, yeah. The whole 'never showing your face to him again' thing kind of runs two ways."
"I can't do that!" Demyx wailed. "I can't just... never see the love of my life ever again!"
"Isn't 'love of your life' going a little far? I mean, have you even really talked to -"
"You have to help me, Axel!" Demyx cried, jumping up and grabbing him by the collar to shake him vigorously. "We have to think of some way for me to see him without him seeing me!"
"What's this 'we'?" Axel flicked him on the forehead. "I don't recall signing up for anything like this."
The blond stared at him with wide, pleading eyes. “You mean you won’t help me?”
“Don’t give me that puppy look,” Axel said with a wince, pushing Demyx away. “Either way, there’s nothing I can do about it right now, so go… I don’t know, listen to your crazy sitar music or something.” He made shooing motions with his hands.
Demyx beamed. “So you will help me?”
“We’ll see,” he muttered, which Demyx knew in Axel-speak meant yes. “Now seriously, go get your mind off of it before you drive me crazy.”
Grinning, Demyx hugged him and managed to chirp out, “Okay!” before ducking the swipe Axel made at his head and bouncing into his room. He could hear Axel’s enraged yelling about how he didn’t like hugs, dammit, but Demyx couldn’t care less. He had a plan.
A few minutes later, he poked his head back out into the main room. "Axel?"
"What, Dem?" asked Axel, sounding somewhat annoyed.
"Out of curiosity, what happened to my sitar music that is definitely not crazy? Did you do something to it?"
Axel blinked. "Nope. This place is a mess, Dem, I'm sure you'll find it eventually."
"Huh." Demyx shrugged to himself and went to pop something else in the stereo.
--
Okay, so Demyx didn’t actually have a plan. What he had was a half-formed idea, which included seeing Zexion again as soon as possible without actually revealing his identity and exploiting Axel’s brain for any and all stalking purposes. ‘Stalking’ was probably a bad word, since he didn’t really consider it stalking, but…
Well, no. It was stalking. Totally.
Thus the next day found Demyx and Axel skulking around outside the double doors of the university’s gigantic library, Demyx dithering and pacing anxiously while Axel calmly sat on the steps and watched the doors for any sign of Zexion.
“This isn’t going to work if you’re in plain sight, you know,” the redhead pointed out wryly as Demyx passed him for the umpteenth time, wringing his hands nervously.
"He -- he doesn't even know who I am!" Demyx cried almost hysterically. "The only place he sees me is at the bookstore, he won't think that I'd be -"
"Look, here he comes," Axel cut in, grinning.
Demyx was very proud of the fact that he did not squeak like a frightened rodent at that moment. He did, however, pull off a rather spectacular dive behind one of the stone banisters, peeking out apprehensively.
Zexion walked out of the library, a book in hand. Demyx peered closer. Huh. Was that Crime and Punishment? Lucky he'd gotten it the other day - maybe he could bring it up after enough time had passed that Zexion would have forgotten about the ‘cookie sex fiasco’, as Demyx had taken to calling it. And, come to think of it, once he'd figured out how to pronounce the author's name.
"Hello, Axel," Zexion's voice cut into his thoughts. Demyx realized, much to his alarm, that the slate-haired young man was heading straight for his roommate. Well, damn.
He pressed himself flatter against the banister, hunching down, and prayed that Zexion couldn’t hear notice his alarmingly fast breathing. Dammit, lungs, get ahold of yourselves! he mentally his body. This is not the time for hyperventilating!
“Yo,” Axel greeted Zexion amicably. “How’s it going?”
“Fine,” was Zexion’s clipped response. He didn’t seem inclined to offer anything else, yet he made no move to leave.
Axel rubbed the back of his neck. “Did you need something?”
Demyx took a quick peek over the banister to find that Zexion was staring at a point somewhere beyond Axel’s shoulder. AKA, right. In. His. Direction.
It took a lot of effort to not faint.
“No,” Zexion murmured eventually.
"You sure? You seem a little preoccupied," Axel replied. "Why don't you sit down?"
Oh, Axel was going to die when they got back. Preferably very slowly, and as painfully as Demyx could manage. But at least Zexion would probably say n-
"Very well," Zexion said after a moment. God dammit.
Demyx tried to shrink into the banister as he heard Zexion's steps approaching. A pause, and then his cool voice said, "What are you doing down there?"
Demyx immediately jumped up, brushing himself off. "Um! I was looking for... uh ...my quarter!"
“I see,” Zexion responded, eyebrows raised in a way that said he didn’t see, actually, and that he thought Demyx was mildly insane.
Demyx cursed his luck and hopped back over the banister to join the other two boys. “Yep,” he laughed nervously. “Couldn’t find it, though. Too bad!”
“Yeah, too bad,” Axel echoed, grinning slyly at him from over Zexion’s shoulder.
Demyx suppressed the urge to glare and forced himself to smile, despite his overwhelming nervousness at having Zexion so close - and willingly, too! He made himself sit down, leaving ample room for Zexion to sit next beside him, although he probably would have dropped dead right on the spot if that happened.
Zexion took the seat. Demyx tried not to choke on his own tongue. "So, what brings the pair of you here?"
"Oh, little of this, little of that," Axel said cheerily. "Studies call. Right?"
Demyx jumped up again. "R-right! I, ah, just remembered, Axel! I've got an assignment due for my next class I haven't finished yet! See you later!" He waved, just a touch spastically, and ran off.
--
An hour later, Axel found his roommate sitting next to a fountain near a classroom building on campus, one hand idly splashing in the water.
“Demyx,” he said as he approached the blond, appearing tired and worn out and even somewhat out of breath. “What the hell, man? I’ve been looking everywhere for you. You took off pretty fast.”
Demyx glared sullenly. “I hate you.”
“What?” With a surprised look, Axel took a step closer and said, “What are you talking about? I was helping you.”
“Helping me ruin my life,” he moaned in a sudden bout of self-pity, abruptly slumping to cover his face with his hands. “That was the second most embarrassing moment of my life!”
Axel paused for a moment. “Only the second?” he asked tentatively.
“Sex cookie incident,” Demyx blurted morosely.
Axel stared at his roommate with an expression that was quizzical, bordering on horrified. "...Do I even want to know?"
Demyx blushed. "N-not like that! I just - I was just watching Zexion -"
"Stalking him, you mean -"
"And he looked over, so I picked up a random book and it turned out to be The Cookie Kama Sutra. And I realized that and made a commotion and accidentally knocked over some bookshelves and Zexion came over and I WANTED TO DIE," Demyx huffed.
"What is it about this guy that turns you into Creepy McStalkerpants, anyway?" asked Axel with an inquisitive arch of his eyebrows.
"I…" Demyx suddenly looked shy, casting his gaze to the side. "I dunno. It's a whole bunch of little things."
"Uh huh," Axel said wryly, crossing his arms. "You just like his ass."
"It's not that!" He bit his lip. "The... the first time I saw him..."
"Yeah?" Axel pressed.
"He was playing the piano," Demyx said softly. "In one of the music practice rooms. And he played beautifully, I had to see who it was. I never let on that I was there, just sat and watched and listened. Thought I'd like to know more about him."
"And then?" Axel pressed curiously.
"I thought it was totally chance, and we'd never meet again," Demyx murmured. "But then I saw him working at the bookstore. I was just curious back then, that was all, but I wanted to know him better . . . . so I sat, and watched."
"You? Sitting and watching? That's hard to believe," the redhead commented.
"Axel. But anyway," Demyx continued, "he seemed so . . . . different. Like, all that beauty in his music was gone. I didn't get it, so I just kept watching. And then, as time went on, I'd catch a glimpse of it every now and then. And I kept wanting to see it more and more. And, well . . . ." The blond shrugged. "It turned into all this."
“You have no life,” Axel said, but he was smiling almost softly, and he grabbed Demyx’s hands and yanked him to his feet without preamble. “Come on, Mr. Creepy. Let’s go home and have some Easy Mac.”
“But I want real food,” Demyx grumbled as he allowed himself to be dragged along. He felt drained from his romantic stalking explanation, and despite his complaints, dinner sounded really good right about now, microwaved or not.
“Too bad, I’m making macaroni and cheese, and you’re going to love it.” He flicked Demyx’s ear good-naturedly. “Deal with it.”
“Oww!” Attempting a scowl, the blond rubbed the side of his head and said, “For all the trouble you caused today, you could at least cook something a little more decent.”
Axel grinned widely. “Ah, but you have yet to hear my master plan!”
"Master plan?" Demyx echoed skeptically. "If it's anything like today's, thanks, but no thanks."
"Aw, c'mon, Dem," Axel protested. "Have a little more faith! Don't you trust me?"
"Well, when you put it like that...” He pretended to look thoughtful. “No. I don't. Not at all."
"Awww, c'mon. You'll see. It's brilliant!"
"I'm sure..."
--
Axel’s master plan, as he’d put it, consisted of a disguise. A black hoodie and sunglasses, to be exact. And Demyx thought it was genius.
“So now you can go in and be as creepy as you want and he’ll never even know it’s you,” Axel explained as Demyx put his hood up, staring at himself in their cramped bathroom mirror. He looked shapeless beneath the baggy material of the hoodie, and the sunglasses effectively hid his ocean eyes. It was perfect.
“Do you really think it will work?” asked Demyx as he continued examining himself. He tugged the hood down a little further to shadow his hair.
"Sure!" Axel assured him confidently. "No one'll be the wiser for it. Simple, but effective."
Demyx grinned, giving Axel a thumbs up, and headed off to the university bookstore.
It was a little harder to see Zexion through the dark glasses, he found upon arrival, but hey, for the chance to scope him out unnoticed, it was totally worth it. Demyx held a book in front of his face for the sake of appearances - Jane Austen today, which was certainly a lot better than cookie sex - but really, he was blatantly staring at Zexion from behind his glasses, secure in his anonymity.
Right up until Zexion picked up a stack of books and headed toward him, anyway. That was when he started panicking a little.
It was silly, he told himself. He was masterfully disguised, and there was no way Zexion could know that -
"Demyx?"
The part of Demyx's brain that wasn't utterly mortified was amazed that the object of his affection (obsession) knew his name. "Y-yes?" he answered immediately, unable to stop himself.
If he hadn't known better, he would have sworn Zexion had the tiniest hint of a smirk. "Why are you dressed like that?"
"Um," he said, mentally stumbling over excuses. "What do you mean? This is, uh… totally normal!”
"Okay." Throwing him the same strange look he always did, Zexion glanced at the blond’s outfit and pointed out, “Because it looks like you’re trying to disguise yourself.” A pause. “Rather badly, at that.”
“Err.” Okay, definitely panic time. “I don't want people knowing I… really like books?”
Zexion blinked. "You do realize that you've been coming here every day long enough that anyone who cares to know that probably does?"
Demyx froze. Zexion had noticed? Not good, really not good! "Um, well, I... bye!" he burst out, dropping Jane Austen at the slate-haired boy's feet and running past him and through the exit.
--
"So, how was it?"
Demyx glared at his roommate. "An absolute disaster. I'm never taking your advice again."
Axel blinked. “Define ‘absolute disaster’.”
Irritably throwing the sunglasses somewhere in Axel’s general directon, the blond muttered something and went about tugging off the hoodie, where it unfortunately got stuck on his head.
“What was that?” Axel asked in amusement.
“I said,” Demyx grumbled, somewhat muffled, “that he knew it was me immediately, so I ran away again!”
Axel sighed. "You gotta stop doing that, Dem. Or do you really want this little obsession of yours to go nowhere that much?"
"No," Demyx muttered sullenly, finally tugging off the hoodie and putting his head in his hands. "But I mean, c'mon, what'm I supposed to do, Axel? He knows I'm stalking him now. For sure."
"And...?"
"And I can't go back again! Just can't. I'd be way too embarrassed..."
"I think you're overreacting, Dem," Axel said casually, leaning back in his chair. "So he knows you go to the bookstore every day, so what?"
"My life is over," Demyx replied, flopping onto the couch dramatically.
Axel rolled his eyes. “You’re not going to ask me to help you commit honorable suicide again, are you?”
“No.” The blond buried his face against a cushion. “I’m just going to stay here until I either turn into dust or Zexion stops hating me.”
“God, you’re dramatic,” Axel muttered as he stretched out a long leg to kick the side of the couch.
“You’re not helping.”
“Whatever. Maybe this cheer you up.” He paused for a moment to dig underneath the arm chair cushion before producing a pair of patterned boxers and unceremoniously flinging them at Demyx’s head. “I believe those are yours.”
Demyx blinked and sat up, eyeing his lucky pair of music note boxers with something akin to awe. “Where did you find these?”
“Um.” The redhead looks distinctly uncomfortable. “My boyfriend swiped them thinking they were mine.”
Demyx nearly choked. “Your boyfriend steals your underwear?”
"Well. Um. He -"
“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” Demyx interrupted. “Forget that. You have a boyfriend?"
Axel glared. "Now that was uncalled for. Are you implying I'm unattractive?"
"No. Though I'd never do you if we were the last two men on earth," Demyx huffed. "I'm implying that you're a jackass and it's amazing anyone would put up with that longer than a one night stand."
"Not cool, Dem." Axel crossed his arms and glared at the coffee table with an expression that was nearly a pout, but of course was not, as Axel was a man - a manly man, all "hips don't lie" jokes aside - and would never do something as sissy as pouting. "Oh, but that reminds me. Maybe you should meet him sometime."
"What d'you mean?"
Axel shrugged. "He always asks about you. Curious kid. I figure, hey, introducing the two of you couldn't hurt, right?"
Clutching his lucky boxers to his chest, Demyx gave him a suspicious look and said, “Okay, but if he steals any more of my stuff…” He trailed off threateningly.
Axel held up his hands in defense. “Hey, it’s not my fault I’m sexy. He was trying to steal my underwear, not yours.”
“I guess.” Demyx still looked distrusftful.
With a roll of his eyes, Axel leaned forward a bit and said, “If it freaks you out that much, just lock your door, dumbass.”
“Fine, I’ll meet him,” Demyx mumbled, finally gathering the energy to push himself off the couch. He had homework to do and a sitar to practice, and sitting around moping wasn’t going to help anything. He really, really needed to stop thinking about this…
“Great!” Axel crowed, flashing him a thumbs up. “I’ll let him know.”
"Sure." Demyx trudged into his room, closing the door behind him dejectedly.
--
"You feeling all right, Demy?"
"Huh?" Demyx looked up from where he'd been picking absently at his pizza crust.
Luxord shrugged, spearing a ravioli with his fork and chewing on it thoughtfully. "You seem a touch under the weather lately, that's all. Is something bothering you?"
"Well, um," Demyx stammered blushing, "not much, no, I just -"
And then he caught sight of a certain slate-haired, bookstore-working young man heading in his direction, and froze. Luckily, he didn’t do anything to inflict early heart failure on Demyx, aside from giving him a small nod of acknowledgement on his way to sit at a nearby table, and the blond slumped in his seat in relief.
Luxord followed his line of sight and smirked. “I suspect you’re not being entirely truthful with me, Demy. Tell me, who is that?”
“Zexion,” Demyx said without thinking, mentally kicking himself immediately afterwards. What the hell was he doing?
“And why are you staring at him like that?”
“N-no reason,” he lied, snapping his gaze away and back down to his dinner. It didn’t look so appetizing anymore. “Just surprised to see him here, that’s all.”
"Of course," Luxord drawled, looking for all the world like a cat that had just caught a particularly tasty canary. "Because it's perfectly natural to practically swoon like a lovestruck maiden at the mere sight of someone you didn't expect to see."
"Hey!" Demyx cried indignantly. "I was not swoo-" His eyes flicked back to Zexion's table, and whatever comeback he’d been preparing instantly fell short.
"Demy? Weren't you saying something?" Luxord remarked after a few moments, twisting in his seat to follow Demyx's shocked gaze. "Ah."
Demyx's eyes slowly narrowed as he observed the cute blond that had dared to sit by Zexion. And were they - oh god, they were! Leaning in towards each other, whispering in each other's ears, the kind of sweet nothings young stupid couples did when they thought the world revolved around them and nobody would watch their sickening display.
"That little whore," he mumbled venomously, accompanying the words with a rather vicious bite into his pizza.
Luxord glanced back to him, eyebrows raised. "Why, Demy, such foul language! One would hardly expect it of you."
“Only when people deserve it,” he growled, shooting an acidic glare in the stupid blond’s direction. Why the hell had he never seen him around Zexion before? At that moment, they looked practically attached at the hip, and was he giving Zexion a CD?
“I don’t think unsuspecting strangers should deserve your wrath so easily.” Luxord gave him a lazy grin. “Unless you were lying just a moment ago.”
Well, he’d already ruined his cover, so he might as well come clean. “Okay, so I may have a slight obsession with Zexion,” he admitted grumpily as he tore almost violently into his pizza. It was strange how quickly anger fueled his appetite.
“A slight obsession,” Luxord repeated with a sarcastic drawl.
“It doesn’t matter anymore. I was going to give up on him, anyway.”
“And that’s why you look like you’re going to murder that blond in his sleep,” the other boy noted dryly.
Demyx glared. "Zexion's too good for that little... punk," he snarled. "Can you blame a guy for getting jealous?"
"I can when went the guy in question is jealous of someone he's supposedly giving up on," Luxord replied in a casual tone, shoving another ravioli in his mouth.
“Well…” Flustered and annoyed, Demyx abruptly stood with his now-empty plate and purposely did not look Zexion’s direction, no matter how much he wanted to. “If you’re just going to tease me about it, then I’ll go talk to someone else.”
“That’s entirely unneccessary,” Luxord murmured, placidly eating his dinner. “I’m being perfectly sympathetic. I’m merely trying to point out that you haven’t quite given up on him yet.”
Demyx stared at his friend for a moment before wilting, sliding back into his seat dismally. “You’re right, I haven’t. Ugh.” He thumped his head against the table. “What am I going to do?”
“Either give up on him for good or double your efforts,” Luxord suggested.
“Double my efforts,” Demyx laughed. “Yeah, right. Last time I tried that, I ended up making things worse.”
Luxord raised his eyebrows curiously but refrained from asking any questions. “Perhaps you simply went about it the wrong way.”
“Yeah, right.” He gave his friend a depressed look. “Or maybe it really is time to just forget Zexion.”
Luxord’s gaze momentarily flickered above Demyx’s head. “I suggest being quiet for now.”
“Huh?” Blinking in confusion, the blond sat up a little and asked, “What d’you mean?”
Luxord merely motioned subtly behind him, where the object of Demyx’s affection and the aforementioned blond were leaving their table, their rendezvous apparently over.
Demyx seethed in silent anger as the Stupid Whore, which he had now mentally dubbed him, swept past their table and even waved to Zexion before they parted ways. At least they hadn’t kissed - Demyx didn’t think his heart could have taken that. He was having a hard enough time dealing with the fact that The Boy Who Hated Everything apparently had a soft spot for short blonds with big blue eyes.
“Who is that, anyway?” Demyx growled.
“The boy with Zexion?” Luxord looked thoughtful. “No, I’m afraid I don’t. I apologize.”
Demyx had to focus very hard on not throttling everything within range. “I’m gonna find out.”
Watching as his friend surged to his feet again, Luxord merely heaved a soft sigh and asked, “Are you sure that’s wise?”
“Yes,” Demyx snapped, then paused, a sheepish expression covering his face. “Uh, and thanks for lunch. I’ll see you in class?”
“Of course.”
--
"That stupid whore," Demyx seethed as he stormed into the apartment.
Axel looked up from his book. Was that The Cookie Kama Sutra? Demyx carefully blocked that thought from his mind and refused to look at the book's cover again. "What happened now?"
"Zexion has a - a -" Demyx couldn't bring himself to say it.
"A what?" Axel tilted his head to the side curiously.
"A crumpet!" Demyx yelled, tears of fury stinging his eyes.
"A crumpet?" Axel looked rather dumbfounded at this. "What's wrong with that?"
"Some kid was at the dining hall with him today, hanging on every damn word he had to say!" Demyx hissed. "And you ask me what's wrong?"
A look of understanding dawned upon Axel's features. "Ah. Dem?"
"Yeah?"
"I think the term you're looking for is strumpet, not crumpet. A crumpet is a kind of pastry -- biscuit - breakfast - thing. However, as the term usually applies to ladies of, ah… negotiable virtue, I don't think you should really be using it," Axel informed him solemnly.
“Whatever,” Demyx snapped. “He’s a stupid whore and I hate him.”
Axel very carefully scooted away from his infuriated roommate, just in case Demyx decided to get violent. “Who’s this ‘him’, anyway?”
“I…” He suddenly deflated. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know him, but you still hate him,” Axel commented with disbelief.
Demyx turned his ocean gaze to Axel. “Well, Zexion seems to like him, which is enough reason for me.”
“I see,” Axel said, even though he really didn’t. He thought Demyx was kind of crazy, to be honest. “And what are you going to do about it?”
“I have no idea.” All of Demyx’s anger dissolved back into the usual depression, and he sat on the floor, foregoing his usual moping spot on the couch for once. “You wouldn’t happen to have any brilliant plans, would you?”
Axel shook his head sadly. “Nope. But Roxas wants to meet you tomorrow, if that’s okay.”
Demyx shrugged. “Sure, whatever you want.”
"All right, cool." Axel grinned. "Up for more Easy Mac?"
"Sure, whatever." Demyx waved dejectedly as he headed off to his room. Damn. He couldn't even find his favorite CD to cheer him up.
--
"Axel, is he ever going to get here?" Demyx whined, kicking his legs gently.
Axel checked his watch. "He said he'd meet us at the broken wishbone fountain at noon. We're here, it's time, I swear he's going to be here. Have a little faith, Dem."
Demyx grunted something unintelligibly and continued kicking his legs back and forth, resisting the urge to reach into the fountain and splash the redhead. He was just about to start complaining about Axel’s late boyfriend again when he noticed someone approaching, and nearly fell backward into the fountain.
It was the Stupid Whore.
“That’s him,” he hissed, pointing with a shaking finger.
“Huh?” Axel gave him a confused look. “Wait, you know Roxas already?”
“No,” Demyx spat. “It’s the stupid whore!” Then he did a double take. “Wait, what? That’s Roxas?”
Roxas's eyes narrowed. "What did you call me?" he growled indignantly as he slowed to a stop in front of the other two boys.
Demyx ignored this and instead turned to his roommate. "Axel, Roxas is cheating on you! I saw him with Zexion just yesterday!"
“What?” Roxas shrieked at the same time that Axel started laughing.
“That’s ridiculous,” Axel said, looking unfairly amused. “I’m way hotter than Zexion.”
Demyx started to say a few choice words about what exactly he thought of Zexion’s appearance when he remembered that Roxas was here, and he definitely didn’t want the blond knowing about that. Ever.
“But you were whispering sweet nothings in each other’s ears!” he protested. “You were leaning!”
Roxas stared. “What the hell are you talking about? We were talking.”
“This isn’t going very well,” Axel sighed heavily, putting a hand to his forehead in exasperation. “Demyx, Roxas wasn’t cheating. Roxas, Demyx is a freak. Can you guys try not hating each other?”
"I didn't even do anything!" Roxas protested.
Demyx pointed at him dramatically. "Don't lie! I saw you two, practically joined at the hip, cooing at each other as if everyone couldn't see! And - and - you gave him a CD!" That was the clincher right there, oh yes it was. Roxas was going to get divine justice for his wrongs.
Roxas stared at him as if he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. "Zexion is my friend," he said slowly. "Am I not allowed to recommend music to my friend?"
"See, Dem? You were just overreacting," Axel chimed in.
"But - but -" Demyx protested weakly.
"And besides, Zexion's attentions are... well, let's just say I wouldn't have a chance even if I wanted to," Roxas continued, folding his arms over his chest.
"What do you mean?" Demyx asked, confused.
The shorter blond smirked. "Tell you what - why don't you ask him yourself the next time you see him. And tell him Roxas told you to."
Well, that was cryptic. Demyx blinked. "What do you mean by that?"
Roxas's self-satisfied little smirk widened. "Why don't you ask him and find out, hm?"
"But…” So soon after the cookie sex incident… and the quarter mishap… and the pseudo-disguise fiasco?
“Are you guys going to stand around being vague all day, or can we go do something?” Axel cut into their conversation unceremoniously. “You guys are boring.”
Roxas promptly kicked him in the shin, ignoring the redhead’s outraged hiss of pain. “I am not boring.”
Demyx stifled a laugh. Maybe Roxas wasn’t so bad after all.
--
Today was the day. For good or bad, today Demyx would ask Zexion just what Roxas had meant when he'd mentioned he wouldn't have a chance with the slate-haired boy anyway.
Now if only he could walk into the bookstore, let alone stay there long enough to ask Zexion such a thing.
The blond gulped and braced himself. He could do this. Yeah. Of course he could.
…Dear god, what had he been thinking? He couldn't do anything like that!
He was just about to turn tail and run and come back to try another day when a flat voice said from behind him, “Demyx. Could you move, please?”
It took every ounce of control in his body to not jump three feet into the air and scream. Instead, he turned around and mentally began panicking at the sight of the slate-haired object of his affections standing behind him, tapping his foot impatiently. “Uh, sorry!” he said as he belatedly realized he’d been blocking the doorway.
Zexion just stared at him coolly until he moved out of the way. "You haven't been by in a while," he remarked tonelessly as he walked past the blond into the bookstore.
"R-really? Well, um, guess I've - I've been busier than I thought!" Demyx laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head as he followed the other boy. "I, uh, didn't think you'd notice."
Zexion shrugged. "I've grown accustomed to seeing you in the bookstore. You've been well, then?"
"Y...yeah." Was it him, or was Zexion really asking how he was doing?
“That’s good,” said the Zexion as they made their way toward the check-out counter where he worked. He clipped his nametag to his shirt and went about smoothing down the black polo the bookstore dictated he wore, and Demyx felt a short flash a panic that their exchange would come to an end without him asking about what Roxas had said.
“How are you?” Demyx blurted in an attempt to keep the conversation rolling.
Zexion turned towards him with just a trace of surprise on his features. "I'm well," he said quietly at last.
"Roxas mentioned something the other day," Demyx said, then blushed. "He, um. He's my roommate's boyfriend. Anyway, he said I should ask you about something..."
"Yes?" Zexion said expectantly after a few moments.
Demyx flushed deeply, making a conscious effort to not wring his hands. "Well, he - he said that even if he wanted to go out with you, he wouldn't have a chance. And, well, I was curious and he said to ask you..."
Zexion arched his eyebrows. "What?"
Looking down at the ugly carpet of the bookstore, Demyx bit his lip and said, "Uh, he just told me to ask you why you said that."
Zexion paused where he'd been pulling out a roll of journal tape to replace in the cash register. "Oh."
Demyx watched Zexion expectantly, waiting for his response.
At last the other boy replied, "I have no interest in Roxas, and he knows that. That's probably what he meant."
"Oh," Demyx said, looking down. "So it's not 'cause... you like someone else or something?"
A moment's hesitation, and Zexion answered, "No. I have no interest in anyone."
"Oh," Demyx said again.
A few awkward moments passed before Zexion said, "Is that all, Demyx?"
"Um. Well. Yes?" Demyx managed. "I. Um. I guess."
"Then if you could move? You're blocking the register, and I have to organize these on the shelves." Zexion heaved a stack of books into his arms and pushed past Demyx.
"Wait!" Demyx spun and caught hold of the other boy's arm; the books fell to the floor in a messy heap, and he blushed in embarrassment. "I'm - oh, I'm so -"
"What, Demyx?" Zexion sounded really annoyed now, and Demyx cringed. Still, he plunged forward.
"I… I like you!"
Silence. Demyx squeezed his eyes shut, preparing for rejection and humiliation. Hey, it couldn't be worse than cookie sex, right?
"Did Roxas put you up to this?" Zexion asked at last. "It's not going to work, you know."
Demyx blinked and looked up at Zexion, then cringed at his expression. Or rather, lack thereof. "He - he didn't," he muttered, cursing his mouth's tendency to kick into autopilot at the worst times. "Why would he do something like that?"
"Because you don't like me," Zexion said flatly. "He put you up to this. He told you, didn't he?"
A blink. "Told me about what?"
Zexion made an agitated waving motion in the air with his hands. "The questions, your things, all of it, everything. Am I right?"
“My… things?” Demyx asked in utter confusion. “What’re you talking about?”
“I don’t appreciate you playing dumb, Demyx. Didn’t Roxas tell you he’s the one who’s been taking your music for me?”
“My music,” Demyx repeated stupidly, suddenly remembering the CD passed between Zexion and Roxas at dinner. His eyes widened. “Wait. All my missing CDs-“ he nearly choked on the realization. “You have them?”
Zexion pursed his lips in irritation. “Don’t act like you didn’t already know.”
Demyx knew he was gaping, but he couldn’t help himself. “I didn’t.”
More silence. Zexion’s eyes widened slightly, and anyone other than his own personal stalker, AKA Demyx, wouldn’t have noticed. But he did.
“Oh,” said Zexion eventually. He set down the stack of books on the counter with a resounding thud and gave Demyx a thoughtful look. “Does that mean you actually like me?”
“…Yeah,” Demyx answered after a moment’s hesitation, almost shyly, watching Zexion’s face very carefully for any sliver of emotion. He didn’t find much, except for what he thought could have been a shadow of relief.
“That’s very fortunate,” Zexion said.
Demyx stared at Zexion, uncomprehending. "Why… is that?"
Zexion stared back. "You don't get it?"
"Get what?" Demyx replied.
"You… I…” Zexion sighed in exasperation. "Why do you think I asked Roxas to steal your things?"
Demyx scrunched his nose in concentration. “Um. Because you wanted my music?”
Sighing, Zexion wiped his face with his palm and pressed on, “And did you think I wanted your underwear, too?”
“Er.” Demyx’s brain froze. He’d nearly forgotten about the lucky boxer incident. “I dunno?” he offered weakly.
Zexion seemed nearly apopleptic at this pronouncement. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Raised a hand in a kind of desperate gesture, only to let it drop halfway. And finally, he managed, "Then allow me to . . . . to put it in a way that you can understand." Demyx tilted his head curiously, confused up until the point where Zexion settled his hands on the blond's waist and pulled him flush against his chest, in front of the entire bookstore, and kissed him.
Kissing Zexion was nothing like Demyx had imagined, and Demyx had imagined it a lot. Zexion’s lips looked thin and cold, the way they were always pursed in a stony frown, but they were actually quite soft and warm. He sighed, allowing himself to sway against the slate-haired man for a moment before his brain caught up to his senses, and-
“Holy shit,” he said in final, sudden realization. “You-?” He couldn’t finish the sentence, but Zexion caught his meaning.
Zexion nodded.
"Well," he muttered. "Um. Well."
"I just kissed you and all you can say is 'well'?" Zexion demanded with barely perceptible hint of panic in his voice.
Demyx opened his mouth to speak, and suddenly realized that speaking probably wasn't the best option right now. So instead he pulled Zexion in for another kiss. A proper one, this time.
--
"You know, Zexion," Axel remarked one day, as he and Zexion and Demyx and Roxas were reclining on the lawn with their paopu smoothies, "Demyx used to call you The Boy Who Hated Everything. Back when he first started talking about you, I mean, and didn't know your name yet."
Zexion arched a single slate-gray eyebrow. "Is that so?" He smirked over at his boyfriend, who stuck his tongue out in response. "It should have been 'The Boy Who Kind of Really Liked Demyx,' in my opinion."
“It would’ve been helpful if you’d told me that instead of, you know, hiring Roxas to steal my favorite boxers,” Demyx teased.
“Hey,” the blue-eyed blond protested, “don’t bring me into this, you guys. Zexion is manipulative. He forced me into the whole thing!”
"Suuuure," Demyx laughed, kissing Zexion affectionately on the cheek. "Hey, whatever works, right?"
Zexion did not reply, but he was smiling.
Axel laughed. “I’m just glad my boyfriend’s not really a kleptomaniac freak.” He paused thoughtfully as he took a sip of his smoothie, a mischievous grin growing on his face. “Although I have been missing my copy of The Cookie Kama Sutra lately.”
“Hey, don’t look at me,” Roxas said. “If I had it, you’d know.”
Flushing, Demyx quietly choked on his drink and wisely chose not to say a word.