Skin Deep [Xigbar/Zexion]
Canon Status: Pre-CoM, nonspecific.
Genre: Smut.
Rating: NC-17.
Characters: Zexion, Xigbar.
Pairing: Xigbar/Zexion.
Warnings: Explicit het. And on that note, genderfuck.
Notes: kazaera gave me the plotbunny. I have AIM evidence of this. Also, I should really just give in and make up a cliche-a-thon list at this rate.
Summary: Zexion objects to his new, temporary female body. Xigbar just thinks it's hot.
Zexion returned from a mission, reported to Xemnas, and vanished in the direction of the bedrooms before anyone except Xemnas had caught a glimpse of more than the hem of a black coat disappearing into a portal of darkness. Even Xigbar, who had been awaiting Zexion’s return more or less patiently from one of the towers, did not manage to catch up before Zexion was barricaded in the bedroom they frequently shared.
Attempting to keep Xigbar out of a room he wanted to enter, particularly a room with Zexion in it, was an exercise in futility, however, so he arrived shortly after Zexion, to be confronted with a Zexion-sized lump under the blankets.
“How’d it go?” Xigbar asked the lump, sitting down on the edge of the bed and kicking his boots off. “Not too bad in a got-wounded way, or you’d be being poked and prodded right now, so what’s up?”
“Go away, Xigbar,” said the lump in a strange tone of voice.
Xigbar, of course, did not go away; instead, he picked up one end of the blankets and pulled them all the way up to the ceiling, so that Zexion had no choice but to fall out of them or dangle like an angry cat. “C’mon, come out of there and tell me what’s-wrong?”
It was obvious at a glance what was troubling the other Nobody. Zexion sat, fully clothed, on top of the sheets, scowling at Xigbar in the way that tried and failed to hide extreme discomfort, arms crossed over a chest that was quite a different shape than it had been three days before.
Xigbar fell off the ceiling in his surprise. Zexion took advantage of his distraction to steal the blankets back and return to being a lump. “How-“ Xigbar began.
“Don’t ask,” said the lump, voice, now that Xigbar knew, audibly higher-pitched than Zexion’s normal voice. “I said go away.”
Xigbar considered this. “Nope. Get back out here.”
“No.”
This time, Xigbar was not distracted when he pulled the blankets away. Zexion let go eventually and settled for scowling at Xigbar over crossed arms again. The expression was so perfectly Zexion that Xigbar could almost ignore the new curves of breasts and hips beneath Zexion’s coat. At least, he could have if he had wanted to. He felt no inclination to do so.
A scowling Zexion was always a temptation, and a scowling, unexpectedly female Zexion even more so. Xigbar very much wanted to find out exactly how the body he knew so well had changed. The lips beneath his were just a shade more full than they had been, the cheek his gloved hand brushed a hair smoother. Still, the hands shoving him away were almost exactly familiar. Zexion had always had small hands.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Zexion demanded.
“Kissing you,” Xigbar replied innocently. “And I was having fun, so can we get back to that?”
“No-what-Xigbar, off!” Zexion was breathing hard. “Is that all you ever think about?”
“When you’ve been gone for three days, you’re finally back, and we’re in bed? Pretty much, yeah. Why are we still wearing clothes?” Xigbar peeled his gloves off and dropped them on the floor, followed by his coat.
“You have to ask? Look at me!”
“I’m looking, trust me. Like to be looking at more, though.” When Zexion shoved him for the third time, Xigbar said, “If it makes you feel better, blah blah investigating female erogenous response blah can we have sex now? You’re really hot like this.”
“ ‘Like this’?” Zexion asked, visible eyebrow arched. “What, am I more attractive to you in a woman’s body?”
Xigbar backpedaled hastily. “No, definitely not. This is one of the many, many states of being where you are incredibly hot, and it’s one I haven’t seen before, okay? Does this pass muster, or do you just not want any orgasms tonight?”
Zexion sighed and yanked Xigbar closer by the collar of his shirt. “Just to make myself perfectly clear: I am not a woman. I am a man who happens, for the moment, to find himself in a woman’s body. Forget this, and you can forget about having sex for a month. Clear?”
“Yes, Lord Zexion, sir!” Xigbar mock-saluted.
Zexion was as much of a control freak as ever. Not that Xigbar was complaining; Zexion kissing him, one hand on either side of Xigbar’s face while his tongue plundered Xigbar’s mouth, was not one of Xigbar’s ten best experiences as a Nobody only because of the many more interesting places said tongue and mouth could be. Taking Zexion’s gloves off with his teeth, watching the look in his eyes, the little catch in his breath when Xigbar peeled the leather slowly off his palm, the unconscious licking of his lips when Xigbar’s tongue curled around his gloved fingers just before he pulled the glove off, easily made the top eight, just for the anticipation.
By the time Zexion’s bare hands slid up Xigbar’s back, taking his shirt with them, the touch of smooth fingers made him shiver in a way that had nothing to do with the room’s cool air. Only then did Zexion allow Xigbar to tug the zip of his coat down before shrugging out of it and tossing it off the bed. The coats always fit, but the shirt and pants underneath did not and had been made for a man’s build, so they were loose around the waist, tight across the hips and chest. In Xigbar’s opinion, Zexion looked delicious in them, his tendency to wear loose clothing that completely concealed his body foiled for once, but would look even better out of them.
Zexion, on the other hand, was in no hurry. He inspected Xigbar at a leisurely pace, licking and stroking every scar as though making their acquaintance after a long separation. Xigbar gasped and forgot for a moment about the strange newness of Zexion’s body, about anything but lying there and letting Zexion lean over him and do absolutely anything he wanted.
What Zexion wanted was to twine his hands in Xigbar’s hair and tug, hard enough to make it sting, raking his teeth down the line of Xigbar’s throat when he tilted his head back to follow the pull. Xigbar shuddered and groaned something inarticulate in which the words “Zexion” and “please” might have featured if anyone could have understood them. When Zexion kissed him again, he could feel him smiling.
Pressed close together as they were, Xigbar could not help but be reminded of Zexion’s female body. He rolled them over until Zexion was on his back beneath him. It was, Xigbar decided, time for him to have some fun of his own.
It was the work of the moment to strip Zexion of the rest of his clothes, and then Xigbar paused for a moment just to look, to memorize this new Zexion as he could never forget the old.
Some things had not changed: the sharp angles of his collarbones, with the hollow between them that cried out to be kissed; the slender lines of his legs and their feathering of almost invisible hair; the deceptive fragility of his appearance, pale skin almost vanishing into pale sheets. It was to the new things that Xigbar’s eye was drawn, however, to the smooth roundness of his small breasts, the gentle curve of belly and hips, the triangle of dark hair between his thighs. Just the sight of him like this was enough to have Xigbar hard and aching, but he wanted to do more than look. He wanted to touch. He wanted to touch every inch of new skin, to map this body with fingers and tongue until he knew it perfectly.
So he did.
He began at the top. Zexion all but purred when he traced with his tongue the shadows of Zexion’s bones, then gasped in surprised pleasure, an almost inaudible sound for someone who, unlike Xigbar, was not listening for it, when Xigbar’s tongue and hands traveled to his breasts. His nipples were more sensitive in this body, Xigbar discovered, pleased, as he methodically covered every speck of soft skin with kisses and caresses, and his breasts rose and fell with his deep, slightly ragged breaths.
Despite Xigbar’s best efforts, by the time he had kissed his way down to run his tongue along the angle of one angular hip, Zexion was thinking again. “Do you even know what you’re doing?” he asked.
Xigbar grinned, mischievous. “Braig had a very well-spent youth.”
“If I recall correctly, a better word would be ‘misspent’,” Zexion pointed out.
Xigbar did not reply in words, but from the strangled moan as his tongue found Zexion’s clit, Zexion understood Xigbar’s argument completely. He would have gloated, but he had better things to do, like wringing more of those intoxicatingly unpremeditated sounds from Zexion’s throat. The slick folds of skin, the taste on his tongue were different, but the involuntary twitch of Zexion’s hips he knew well, and the sound somewhere between a gasp and a cry as Zexion came was the same as ever.
Xigbar crawled back up the bed, licking his lips. “Like I said, well-spent.”
Zexion was only barely coherent by his standards, which meant he could still think rings around most people. “You’re wearing pants,” he observed. “Why are you wearing pants?”
“Haven’t had a good reason to take ‘em off yet.”
Zexion favored him with the closest thing to a glare he could manage at that point. “Take your pants off right now.”
He was not the only one barely capable of thinking; it took Xigbar far more time than it should have to pull his pants off. Once he had, Zexion rolled him neatly over onto his back and straddled him. Xigbar thought vaguely he should take a more active part in the proceedings, but Zexion slapped his hands away before lowering himself slowly onto Xigbar’s cock.
The sight of him there, eyes shut as his body adjusted, was in competition for the single sexiest thing Xigbar had ever seen. Still, he had to ask, “You’re okay, right? Doesn’t hurt or anything?”
Zexion cracked open one eye to glare at him. “Obviously. It’s merely…different. Now shut up.”
Xigbar did not think he was in any position to protest this demand, especially once Zexion began to move, and he would have been hard-pressed to form any kind of intelligible statement had his life depended on it. Zexion was smooth and tight around him, and that was as far as Xigbar was capable of putting the feeling into words. Beyond that, it dissolved into pure sensation, Zexion’s skin against his, his hands clutching the sheets, groaning and gasping and shouting as he came, unable even then to shift his gaze from Zexion, fragile and strong and unbelievably beautiful above him.
“It’s your turn to change the sheets,” Zexion observed some time later, leaning his head on Xigbar’s shoulder as he traced snowflakes or molecular diagrams on Xigbar’s bare chest.
Xigbar nodded automatically, then thought back to the last time they had both been free from missions at the same time. “No, it’s not. I changed them last. It’s your turn.”
“I was spontaneously turned into a woman and psychologically traumatized. It’s your turn.”
“Traumatized? You sure didn’t sound traumatized when-” At that moment, a horrible thought occurred to Xigbar. “You’re gonna change back pretty soon, right? Like, less than a month soon? ‘Cause-“
Zexion rolled his eyes. Xigbar did not even have to see him to know he did. “I will return to being male in a week, and in any case Nobodies are both sterile and infertile. Trust me. This was extensively tested.”
“…How?”
“Not that way. Larxene claims that she no longer menstruates, and I for one am willing to take her word for it. Now stop talking and go to sleep.”
Xigbar drifted off to sleep, sated and comfortable. Zexion was warm against his side, and if he would almost certainly end up having to change the sheets, he had several ideas that would put it off until the next afternoon at least.
Genre: Smut.
Rating: NC-17.
Characters: Zexion, Xigbar.
Pairing: Xigbar/Zexion.
Warnings: Explicit het. And on that note, genderfuck.
Notes: kazaera gave me the plotbunny. I have AIM evidence of this. Also, I should really just give in and make up a cliche-a-thon list at this rate.
Summary: Zexion objects to his new, temporary female body. Xigbar just thinks it's hot.
Zexion returned from a mission, reported to Xemnas, and vanished in the direction of the bedrooms before anyone except Xemnas had caught a glimpse of more than the hem of a black coat disappearing into a portal of darkness. Even Xigbar, who had been awaiting Zexion’s return more or less patiently from one of the towers, did not manage to catch up before Zexion was barricaded in the bedroom they frequently shared.
Attempting to keep Xigbar out of a room he wanted to enter, particularly a room with Zexion in it, was an exercise in futility, however, so he arrived shortly after Zexion, to be confronted with a Zexion-sized lump under the blankets.
“How’d it go?” Xigbar asked the lump, sitting down on the edge of the bed and kicking his boots off. “Not too bad in a got-wounded way, or you’d be being poked and prodded right now, so what’s up?”
“Go away, Xigbar,” said the lump in a strange tone of voice.
Xigbar, of course, did not go away; instead, he picked up one end of the blankets and pulled them all the way up to the ceiling, so that Zexion had no choice but to fall out of them or dangle like an angry cat. “C’mon, come out of there and tell me what’s-wrong?”
It was obvious at a glance what was troubling the other Nobody. Zexion sat, fully clothed, on top of the sheets, scowling at Xigbar in the way that tried and failed to hide extreme discomfort, arms crossed over a chest that was quite a different shape than it had been three days before.
Xigbar fell off the ceiling in his surprise. Zexion took advantage of his distraction to steal the blankets back and return to being a lump. “How-“ Xigbar began.
“Don’t ask,” said the lump, voice, now that Xigbar knew, audibly higher-pitched than Zexion’s normal voice. “I said go away.”
Xigbar considered this. “Nope. Get back out here.”
“No.”
This time, Xigbar was not distracted when he pulled the blankets away. Zexion let go eventually and settled for scowling at Xigbar over crossed arms again. The expression was so perfectly Zexion that Xigbar could almost ignore the new curves of breasts and hips beneath Zexion’s coat. At least, he could have if he had wanted to. He felt no inclination to do so.
A scowling Zexion was always a temptation, and a scowling, unexpectedly female Zexion even more so. Xigbar very much wanted to find out exactly how the body he knew so well had changed. The lips beneath his were just a shade more full than they had been, the cheek his gloved hand brushed a hair smoother. Still, the hands shoving him away were almost exactly familiar. Zexion had always had small hands.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Zexion demanded.
“Kissing you,” Xigbar replied innocently. “And I was having fun, so can we get back to that?”
“No-what-Xigbar, off!” Zexion was breathing hard. “Is that all you ever think about?”
“When you’ve been gone for three days, you’re finally back, and we’re in bed? Pretty much, yeah. Why are we still wearing clothes?” Xigbar peeled his gloves off and dropped them on the floor, followed by his coat.
“You have to ask? Look at me!”
“I’m looking, trust me. Like to be looking at more, though.” When Zexion shoved him for the third time, Xigbar said, “If it makes you feel better, blah blah investigating female erogenous response blah can we have sex now? You’re really hot like this.”
“ ‘Like this’?” Zexion asked, visible eyebrow arched. “What, am I more attractive to you in a woman’s body?”
Xigbar backpedaled hastily. “No, definitely not. This is one of the many, many states of being where you are incredibly hot, and it’s one I haven’t seen before, okay? Does this pass muster, or do you just not want any orgasms tonight?”
Zexion sighed and yanked Xigbar closer by the collar of his shirt. “Just to make myself perfectly clear: I am not a woman. I am a man who happens, for the moment, to find himself in a woman’s body. Forget this, and you can forget about having sex for a month. Clear?”
“Yes, Lord Zexion, sir!” Xigbar mock-saluted.
Zexion was as much of a control freak as ever. Not that Xigbar was complaining; Zexion kissing him, one hand on either side of Xigbar’s face while his tongue plundered Xigbar’s mouth, was not one of Xigbar’s ten best experiences as a Nobody only because of the many more interesting places said tongue and mouth could be. Taking Zexion’s gloves off with his teeth, watching the look in his eyes, the little catch in his breath when Xigbar peeled the leather slowly off his palm, the unconscious licking of his lips when Xigbar’s tongue curled around his gloved fingers just before he pulled the glove off, easily made the top eight, just for the anticipation.
By the time Zexion’s bare hands slid up Xigbar’s back, taking his shirt with them, the touch of smooth fingers made him shiver in a way that had nothing to do with the room’s cool air. Only then did Zexion allow Xigbar to tug the zip of his coat down before shrugging out of it and tossing it off the bed. The coats always fit, but the shirt and pants underneath did not and had been made for a man’s build, so they were loose around the waist, tight across the hips and chest. In Xigbar’s opinion, Zexion looked delicious in them, his tendency to wear loose clothing that completely concealed his body foiled for once, but would look even better out of them.
Zexion, on the other hand, was in no hurry. He inspected Xigbar at a leisurely pace, licking and stroking every scar as though making their acquaintance after a long separation. Xigbar gasped and forgot for a moment about the strange newness of Zexion’s body, about anything but lying there and letting Zexion lean over him and do absolutely anything he wanted.
What Zexion wanted was to twine his hands in Xigbar’s hair and tug, hard enough to make it sting, raking his teeth down the line of Xigbar’s throat when he tilted his head back to follow the pull. Xigbar shuddered and groaned something inarticulate in which the words “Zexion” and “please” might have featured if anyone could have understood them. When Zexion kissed him again, he could feel him smiling.
Pressed close together as they were, Xigbar could not help but be reminded of Zexion’s female body. He rolled them over until Zexion was on his back beneath him. It was, Xigbar decided, time for him to have some fun of his own.
It was the work of the moment to strip Zexion of the rest of his clothes, and then Xigbar paused for a moment just to look, to memorize this new Zexion as he could never forget the old.
Some things had not changed: the sharp angles of his collarbones, with the hollow between them that cried out to be kissed; the slender lines of his legs and their feathering of almost invisible hair; the deceptive fragility of his appearance, pale skin almost vanishing into pale sheets. It was to the new things that Xigbar’s eye was drawn, however, to the smooth roundness of his small breasts, the gentle curve of belly and hips, the triangle of dark hair between his thighs. Just the sight of him like this was enough to have Xigbar hard and aching, but he wanted to do more than look. He wanted to touch. He wanted to touch every inch of new skin, to map this body with fingers and tongue until he knew it perfectly.
So he did.
He began at the top. Zexion all but purred when he traced with his tongue the shadows of Zexion’s bones, then gasped in surprised pleasure, an almost inaudible sound for someone who, unlike Xigbar, was not listening for it, when Xigbar’s tongue and hands traveled to his breasts. His nipples were more sensitive in this body, Xigbar discovered, pleased, as he methodically covered every speck of soft skin with kisses and caresses, and his breasts rose and fell with his deep, slightly ragged breaths.
Despite Xigbar’s best efforts, by the time he had kissed his way down to run his tongue along the angle of one angular hip, Zexion was thinking again. “Do you even know what you’re doing?” he asked.
Xigbar grinned, mischievous. “Braig had a very well-spent youth.”
“If I recall correctly, a better word would be ‘misspent’,” Zexion pointed out.
Xigbar did not reply in words, but from the strangled moan as his tongue found Zexion’s clit, Zexion understood Xigbar’s argument completely. He would have gloated, but he had better things to do, like wringing more of those intoxicatingly unpremeditated sounds from Zexion’s throat. The slick folds of skin, the taste on his tongue were different, but the involuntary twitch of Zexion’s hips he knew well, and the sound somewhere between a gasp and a cry as Zexion came was the same as ever.
Xigbar crawled back up the bed, licking his lips. “Like I said, well-spent.”
Zexion was only barely coherent by his standards, which meant he could still think rings around most people. “You’re wearing pants,” he observed. “Why are you wearing pants?”
“Haven’t had a good reason to take ‘em off yet.”
Zexion favored him with the closest thing to a glare he could manage at that point. “Take your pants off right now.”
He was not the only one barely capable of thinking; it took Xigbar far more time than it should have to pull his pants off. Once he had, Zexion rolled him neatly over onto his back and straddled him. Xigbar thought vaguely he should take a more active part in the proceedings, but Zexion slapped his hands away before lowering himself slowly onto Xigbar’s cock.
The sight of him there, eyes shut as his body adjusted, was in competition for the single sexiest thing Xigbar had ever seen. Still, he had to ask, “You’re okay, right? Doesn’t hurt or anything?”
Zexion cracked open one eye to glare at him. “Obviously. It’s merely…different. Now shut up.”
Xigbar did not think he was in any position to protest this demand, especially once Zexion began to move, and he would have been hard-pressed to form any kind of intelligible statement had his life depended on it. Zexion was smooth and tight around him, and that was as far as Xigbar was capable of putting the feeling into words. Beyond that, it dissolved into pure sensation, Zexion’s skin against his, his hands clutching the sheets, groaning and gasping and shouting as he came, unable even then to shift his gaze from Zexion, fragile and strong and unbelievably beautiful above him.
“It’s your turn to change the sheets,” Zexion observed some time later, leaning his head on Xigbar’s shoulder as he traced snowflakes or molecular diagrams on Xigbar’s bare chest.
Xigbar nodded automatically, then thought back to the last time they had both been free from missions at the same time. “No, it’s not. I changed them last. It’s your turn.”
“I was spontaneously turned into a woman and psychologically traumatized. It’s your turn.”
“Traumatized? You sure didn’t sound traumatized when-” At that moment, a horrible thought occurred to Xigbar. “You’re gonna change back pretty soon, right? Like, less than a month soon? ‘Cause-“
Zexion rolled his eyes. Xigbar did not even have to see him to know he did. “I will return to being male in a week, and in any case Nobodies are both sterile and infertile. Trust me. This was extensively tested.”
“…How?”
“Not that way. Larxene claims that she no longer menstruates, and I for one am willing to take her word for it. Now stop talking and go to sleep.”
Xigbar drifted off to sleep, sated and comfortable. Zexion was warm against his side, and if he would almost certainly end up having to change the sheets, he had several ideas that would put it off until the next afternoon at least.