In the middle of summer

yes it's been a while no i'm not really here just dropping off an essay derp

parametric — Sat, 14 May 2011 21:57:45 GMT

Slash fanfiction, as discussed in class last week, is an interesting phenomenon taking place primarily among heterosexual women, wherein a writer pairs up or “slashes” two fictional males in a romantic and often sexual relationship. As someone involved in or observing this phenomenon for years, I felt there was more I could elaborate on and contend about the subculture of slash fiction and the people who write and read it; it’s a discussion I’ve participated in within that culture for some time now. The most interesting part of it, to me, is that I have found slash-dominated groups to be rather heteronormative and restrictive, compared to spaces more mixed in their representation of which genders are in relationships.

Before we begin, though, there are some terms I will clarify, as they are shorthand slang among those who participate but probably obscure to anyone unfamiliar with them, and many will be used in this post. A “fandom” is a word for the collective group of fans and their work for one series, a portmanteau of “fan” and “kingdom”; Star Trek has a fandom which produces work based on and discussion of it, as does Lord of the Rings, as does Glee, and so on. It should be mentioned that a fandom is generally considered to be all social involvement with a specific work; if you’ve ever, say, discussed a TV show on a forum, that would be participation in fandom. Slash is a noun denoting a male-male pair, but “to slash” is also a verb denoting enjoyment of such. A “ship” or “pairing” refers to a specific relationship, such as Harry paired with Ron or Kirk paired with Spock; a “shipper,” in the same vein, is a person who supports a specific relationship. “Fanfic” or “fic” is shorthand for fanfiction, or a derivative work based on an original one; a “canon” is the work upon which a fandom’s work is based. “Headcanon” is generally theorizing or discussion that goes beyond the limits of what a canon has given its fandom (this can also be referred to as meta occasionally). For example, considering what kind of music your favorite fictional character would like when no musical preferences have been stated by the creators would be headcanon. Meta is also used as a term for fandom discussing itself - the idea of “what goes on beyond the fourth wall.” “Lemon” or “citrus” is a term which has largely fallen out of use these days, but generally referred to a work with explicit sexual content when I was first involved in fandom. “Fangirl” (or “fanboy,” though that is mainly a term exclusive to male-dominated fandoms such as those for shoot-em-up video game) is a derogatory term for usually young, immature people in fandom who seem to be shallow or unintelligent; it’s something of a slur to call a stranger. “Weeaboo” is a slur for a usually white and usually female person who is perceived as liking Japanese culture too much without understanding it in actuality.

From the last two terms we can already see that there is a bit of a stigma about being female in a fandom, despite the fact that the majority of those involved in social and work-producing fandom are female. Gendered insults such as “bitch” or “slut” can also be common in heated discussions. Even aside from arguments, when examining how females are treated in much of slash fiction, we can see reflections of this female-negative attitude. In popular slash-dominated fandoms, if a female shows up in a fic, she is often portrayed as a sultry, dangerous “homewrecker,” coming between two star-crossed lovers. She fawns on one of the males in the pairing, usually the more masculine-typical of the two, and when refused often will turn to an ugly mood and attempt to sabotage the relationship or lash out at the more effeminate partner. In fact, sometimes slash shippers get so into this idea that they project it into how they see the actual canon and wish the female character in question did not exist; Kairi from the video game Kingdom Hearts gets this treatment among a lot of those who slash of the two male leads, Sora and Riku. The other common portrayal of females in slash fiction is much akin to the “gay best friend” in more mainstream media; that is to say, a shoulder to cry on, someone to dispense love advice or help with fashion, but rarely in a relationship and even more rarely a sexual being in and of herself.

But the people who enjoy slash are overwhelmingly female and heterosexual, so this behavior is likely puzzling to the casual observer. Why would women think so ill of other females and of female sexuality? There are a few theories that have been tossed around in meta discussions through the years. One popular one is that girls project themselves upon the more effeminate male in a pairing - according to this theory, women who dislike other females in fanfic are seeing these females as “rivals” for the masculine male’s affection. Another is that a lot of women are taught their genitals are scary or wrong in Western culture, and this affects them so much that they simply do not want to think about girls being in these relationships. A related but slightly different third theory is based on the idea of popular acceptance of male vs female sexual expression - that is to say, a male being a stud while a female is a slut, taken to the next level. According to this idea, it is okay for males to be sexual, but females being sexual is impure and wrong. Thus, this dismissal of fictional females is due to their sexuality being uncomfortable for a female reader who has been taught not to think sex is okay for them; these readers can enjoy sexual content, but cannot apply it to a female body comfortably.

To close, I’ll offer a few thoughts on the kinds of relationships portrayed in slash and the cultural makeup of who enjoys it. Interesting to note is that these male-male relationships in fiction very often follow heteronormative or “Disney princess” ideals. They meet in young adulthood, usually high school (if they don’t, there are plenty of “alternate universe” fics set in high school in a lot of fandoms), fall in love, share at least the effeminate-typical male’s first sexual experience, and proceed to live “happily ever after.” Possibly they get married, and some even have children - there is an entire subset of slash fiction devoted to “mpreg,” or male pregnancy. Concerning the racial makeup of who participates in slash fandom: slash fans are predominantly white, usually American, occasionally European, but there is a very sizable portion of young women of Japanese or Korean descent - usually also from America, but there are huge fandoms in those countries that thrive amongst themselves as well, usually more focused around visual art than writing. These Asian countries are of course the main producers of boy-love manga; however, what I find interesting is they are also the countries which have historically assimilated Western culture more than their neighbors, from what I have studied of them.

I know that the end of the semester is fast approaching, but any thoughts on and discussion of this subculture are more than welcome, and I’m happy to answer questions about my personal experience for any interested parties. Good luck to everyone on your finals, and I am happy to have been a part of this class and met you all.

parametric — Fri, 06 Aug 2010 08:42:41 GMT

I GOT POKEMON PEARL

yes i'm late, stfu i didn't even have a ds until today

ANYWAY, shenanigans ensued, as indeed they must. pokemon so far:

a male chimchar named FlameAss [CURRENTLY IN PARTY]
a male abra named Mumbles [CURRENTLY IN PARTY]
a male starly named CHEEPNATOR (who is more aptly named than i knew because he massacres everything now) [CURRENTLY IN PARTY]
a female ~~shinx~~luxio named Bloop. looking back, should've named her Hellteeth, because holy shit Bite is amazing. [CURRENTLY IN PARTY]
a female geodude named Heavy G. in honor of the pokemon crystal let's play by redchocobo, yes.
a male onix named Hardeon (his nature is Calm.) [CURRENTLY IN PARTY]
a male budew named Tree Sperm
a male psyduck named Whozawat [CURRENTLY IN PARTY]

and aim conversations from while i was playing under the cut

: fuck getting a bidoof B/
: I HATE BIDOOFS
: ALSO my name is chiclet
: and my rival is blufag
: i was gonna go with my name being AWESOME but eh
: oh hey, this girl has NOTHING BUT BIDOOFS
: /roasts them with ember

: WHY IS THERE A PSYDUCK IN THIS CAVE
Morg: I blame Lost
Morg: No seriously, why is there a psyduck in a cave?
: i dont even fucking know
: also FUCKING ZUBATS
: FUCKING SUPERSONIC
Morg: FUCKING ZUBATS
Morg: But hey, it could be worse
Morg: It could be zubats with MARIN FUCKIN KARIN
: AUGH

: NOOOO ABRA COME BAAAAACK
: ;A;
: it came back =3=
technophile: HHAHA
: /caught it with one pokeball at full health
technophile: abra are so cute
: yyyy
: /never evolves it

: also i'm surprised that my starly is turning out so useful
technophile: HAHA tess had a level 100 pidgeot in her R/B game
: it is like. WRECKING EVERYONE'S SHIT now that it has levels
: i keep one hit ko'ing everything with him sob
: CHEEPNATOR WAS NAMED WELL
technophile: HAHAHA yes

: hee hee. harden.
: harden against flameass.
: heeeeee.
technophile: LOL
: YESSSSSS LEVEL 9 ONIX
: /WHIPS OUT THE POKEBALLS
: i want it just so that i can harden whenever i want
: aaand I GOT IT
: /names it hardeon
: awwww it's a calm onix
technophile: CALM HARDEON

: i have an onix now
: it is named hardeon
: and its nature is calm
: CALM HARDEON
Morg: ...see, I named my Onix Hadron, but that wasSDGSGS
: admit it, morg, you love me
Morg: So very, very much
: my other pokemon:
: a boy chimchar named flameass
: a boy budew named tree sperm
: a boy abra named mumbles
Morg: tree sperm
Morg: tree sperm
Morg: tree sperm
: WHAT
Morg: why do you do this?
: because i'm AWESOME, obviously

Morg: whoa
Morg: wait
Morg: wait
Morg: This is your FIRST time playing Pokemon?
: yep!
Morg: GET OUT YOU FOOL
Morg: GET OUT WHILE YOU STILL CAN
Morg: YOU'RE YOUNG AND YOU HAVE A FUTURE, JAPAN HASN'T GOT YOU YET
Morg: RUN GYPSIE RUN
: i think case already sucked me into the black vortex
: i'm addicted to wooper ):
Morg: That Bitch!I will have to kill him
: i think the toxins they secrete also contain crack
Morg: where is he?! lemme at him, LEMME AT HIM
: HAHAHAHAHA
Morg: /holds you, cries into you shoulder
Morg: THEY ALWAYS DIE SO YOUNG
: /too busy playing pokemon to console you
Morg: Is too late. She hath already slipped away.

: i love my hardeon
Morg: I love your hardeon too
Morg: That doesn't make me gay, right?

: goddamn but i love hardeon
: he can demolish everything's defense
: screech is officially my new favorite ability
: ....holy shit
: scratch that
: BITE
: is my new favorite
technophile: HAHA
: ONE HIT KO ON A GEODUDE
technophile: bite works on attack power but it's a special attack, it's weird
: OH BLOOP, NEVER LEAVE ME

: and then riding high on my victory
: i forgot that rock types are weak to water.
: psyduck, why you do dis to poor hardeon. he only wants to love you.
Morg: ...wait
Morg: lemme get this straight
Morg: Your giant screeching rock snake got beaten...
Morg: by a bipedal duck with a headache
: he one-shot water gunned me.

: LOL i just critical hit + super effective'd a wurmple
Morg: ...That's nothing to be proud of, they're adorable
Morg: you monster
: it's hilarious
: and it was working for the forces of evil
: so nyah nyah.
Morg: you are the Chell to my GLaDOS

: this poor little budew
: it has no idea i'm about to roast it
: ):
Morg: ...
Morg: You monster
: it's for science.
: awww, cherubi is so cute!
: i wonder if flaming cherries taste good?
Morg: You're unbelievably evil

: and now i'm fighting a bug catcher!
: not to worry, they'll be comfy in my birdy's tummy.
Morg: ...Introducing you to pokemon was a horrible idea
: quite possibly
: (: (: (:

: mmm. adorable, roasted squirrels.
: those pachirisu didn't know what they were in for.
: okay, okay, i let you build up your rage too long. lesson learned.
: now eat death at electrokitty's hellfangs.
Morg: The commentary here is...remarkably nightmare fuel
: oh and i guess by my screaming rock snake's tight, unrelenting coils
: two horribly murdered squirrels later....

and last but not least:
: FUCKING BIDOOFS
: DIE
: DIE DIE DIE
: DIE BY MY SAMURAI PIGEON

I don't like Bidoofs. And they're everywhere. ):

OH BTW: just as a heads up, i will be vacationing at a swanky house all weekend, so contact will be sparse if not nonexistant. LOVE Y'ALL.

parametric — Tue, 26 May 2009 04:37:08 GMT

some days? I really, really love Amatchat. 8)

kyriesanctus: Yes. Dericious. 8D
kyriesanctus: ... /goes back to her porn game now

A few minutes later:

kyriesanctus: How did eevee get cuter?
kyriesanctus: HOW?
parametric: ............WHY IS EEVEE IN A PORN GAME
excels: LMFAO
excels: LMFAOOOOOO
excels: DJALKSDJLSADJSKLA
kyriesanctus: NO SDJFKLASJDLK
kyriesanctus: NO
excels: /CHOkes
kyriesanctus: MY
excels: LMFAOAJSDKL
parametric: WHAT DO YOU GET OFF ON, KYZAKU
givemewings: ...
kyriesanctus: OH MY GOD PICHU IS CUTE TOO
excels: AHYAHLSHALHSAHAHAHA
givemewings: .....
excels: LKJSALDKHSALAHKHAHAUDHUSDAS
givemewings: /backs away sloooooowly
parametric: YOU ARE GETTING OFF TO EEVEE/PICHU PORN YOU SICK FUCK
excels: hLKSAHDUASDJ
lewdness: LMFAO KYRIE WHAT.
excels: kyzaku is a fur.
kyriesanctus: NO I'M PLAYING THE PORN GAME AND JAMIE IS TRYING TO SHOW ME HIS POKEMON GAME AJDSJFLKSD
lewdness: SUUUURE
parametric: SUUUUURE
excels: HAHAHAHAHAHAHHA
lewdness: LMFAO TRICKS
kyriesanctus: SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU FAGGOTS
parametric: high five chii
lewdness: o/
excels: I CAN'T BREATHE AHAHA
kyriesanctus: what the fuck pichu kissed rhonda
parametric: \o
lewdness: Kyrie: NO JAMIE GO AWAY I'M TRYING TO FAP TO POKEMON
parametric: neither can i
kyriesanctus: JAMIE SAYS FUCK YOU IN THE BUTT CHII
kyriesanctus: Jamie> /grabs lotion
lewdness: ...
lewdness: B|
lewdness: /NEVER COMES TO YOUR HOUSE
kyriesanctus: Jamie> Mm, Pokemon.
kyriesanctus: XDD AND THEN HE READ OVER MY SHOULDER LIKE, "Mm, Pokemon?"
lewdness: SGSDGDSGH
excels: LKAHSLKDHASDUOEIKSADSA
kyriesanctus: "Mm, Pokemon. JUICY."
kyriesanctus: "Or CREAMY. Smooth."
excels: HASLKDUHSD
excels: this is wrong
excels: so wrong
excels: i need an adult

ETA: THIS IS NOW A SPAM POST BRING ALL YER RP JOURNALS

parametric — Sat, 21 Feb 2009 02:21:47 GMT

sundial ⇶ parametric

sup game this is a spam post

parametric — Wed, 18 Feb 2009 01:13:14 GMT

You know the drill (or maybe you don't). Rules are:
➟comment with your username
➟comment to others telling them if you'd rather get hitched, shag 'em, or throw 'em off a cliff
➟???
➟profit!
➟+points if you can tell what's in the header

Pimp code:

oh fine, I'll get the word out

parametric — Thu, 13 Nov 2008 16:49:50 GMT

Because hell, might as well tell anyone who's interested:

Not sure if I can make it due to lack of time to have a life these days, but if I can you bet I'll be there. lol y so srs but it matters to me, so. Yeah. If this matters to you at all, please come. If not, just scroll on by.

ps, if this is big enough to need a cut just let me know and i'll snook it under. ♥

You knew I was gonna do one of these eventually.

parametric — Wed, 07 May 2008 00:29:58 GMT

THE MATCHMAKING MEME

So we all have friends, we all have had friends that we were maybe pretty chill with but don't talk to a lot now, and we all have friends we haven't met yet, right? But hey: we all gell better with some people than others. Just who are they, anyway? Who do you get along with best?

RULES OF THE GAME:
♥ Comment with your username. ♥
♥ Other people will comment with who they think your perfect match is. ♥
♥ You do not have to know the people you are matched to. ♥
♥ (Go say hi if you don't know them, maybe?) ♥
♥ Wank will be shown to the door, please and thank you. ♥
♥ Have fun! ♥
♥ Pimping code: ♥

parametric — Fri, 25 Apr 2008 18:04:41 GMT

Hullo, everyone! This is nuvolaluz. Unfortunately, the worm in Ria-bella's computer decided to take revenge and her computer is now in a blue screen coma. Go ahead and comment here if you need to tell her something important, and I'm sure that it will get to her.

♥

// Hey, he said, grab your things, I've come to take you home

parametric — Wed, 23 Apr 2008 00:21:28 GMT

Coming for a while now, really. Last part of the journal revamp.

FRIENDS CUT

Because my journal really needed some clearing out. Don't know if you were cut? Go here, if you don't see Tsuna Jesus looking back at you then you've been cut, sorry. I cut mainly the people who I've lost connection to lately or never had one with, but if you think you were cut unfairly, feel free to PM me and we'll talk it out.

This post will stay public for one week.

// When the moon fell in love with the sun, all was golden in the sky

parametric — Mon, 07 Apr 2008 08:27:37 GMT

You know, I really like Panic at the Disco's new sound. ♥ More specifically, I can't take "When the Day Met the Night" off repeat. kdsjkjadfa buuuut that song also puts me in one hell of a writing mood so here you are GOING TO PASS OUT NOW. Don't expect a lot out of this. I liked writing it, but that's about all that can be said for it. |D

By the way, this is for aefallen and tsunayoshi. I'll get to your actual prompts later, loves, but I swear it's the two of you who have so well revived my love for 5927. Love to both~ ♥

But seriously, guys, you should be listening to that song when you read this. Total inspiration.

It's a beautiful day.

Not that it isn't always, but....

"Gokudera-kun." Tsuna smiles.

Every day is perfect, here. As long as the Tenth exists. That's all the beauty Gokudera will ever need. Especially when-

"Hey, Gokudera-kun. Are you all right?"

He snaps out of his thoughts, smiles brightly back. "Of course, Tenth! I'm sorry, I was thinking."

"That's all right." Tsuna looks away, staring off into the space past the window of the small ice cream parlor. The smile is still on his face, though, ever-so-faint but it doesn't seem to know how to leave, not on days like today.

It's strange, this thing they have. It's fragile, nascent, sometimes Gokudera doesn't even know if it's there because they're both so very uncertain. But it is there, isn't it, even if it can't be quite described in words just yet, and that's the best thing in the world, to Gokudera.

"Your ice cream will melt, Tenth," he murmurs helpfully, taking a small mouthful of his own. They do pretty good stuff here, that's what he heard the girls saying earlier this week, and it's good to see the shop lives up to its reputation, because Tenth deserves the best. Gokudera doesn't like sweet things mostly, but ice cream isn't bad. Especially not like this.

Tsuna still doesn't touch his, though, and Gokudera frowns a little, berates himself. "Tenth?"

"Mm-? Ah, I'm sorry, Gokudera-kun! Looks like I'm the one who spaced out this time." He laughs nervously, starts eating quickly.

Gokudera frowns a little more, where Tsuna can't see. By all rights, no right hand man should enjoy this level of intimacy with his Boss, and yet-

And yet.

He hardly remembers the first time he asked the Tenth if perhaps he would like to go out to enjoy the day, though he's sure there's a well-detailed play-by-play (in G-script, of course) in one of his journals. That's the sort of person he is. He had only thought of the Tenth's comfort at the time - too much stress makes not a good Boss, after all - but Tsuna had agreed. And agreed again. And again.

And soon enough it had become a regular thing, not just an every-so-often forget-your-problems sort of thing, and had edged, dangerously even, into rather different territory. Or maybe it had, maybe it hadn't. Gokudera isn't sure, not really, but he....doesn't mind that so much, does he?

(Except when he does, but never mind that; his feelings are of no importance anyway.)

"Gokudera-kun? Are you going to finish yours?"

"Ah-" A smile, his attention back where it should be. "I think I've had enough. Did you enjoy yours, Tenth?"

"Mm. It was good. Thanks."

Gokudera stands, throws their trash away, and then they head out. Where to, he doesn't know, never does until their feet have taken them there. This is the part he likes best, walking aimlessly with no direction in mind, nothing to do but enjoy the day in whatever fashion they please.

It seems to be one of those more quiet, contemplative walks today, and so Gokudera is free to lose himself in thought again. He still isn't sure what this is, no, not that he has to; for this thing seems to suit them nonetheless. It flickers and wavers, and some days Gokudera thinks it is no more than it should be, and others he doesn't think that, and never is he really sure but there's something of a thrill in unknowing.

Still, he wishes sometimes, maybe a little, not even for a name for this, but at least a definition. Even a small one will do.

(But no matter, no matter, for he is but the right hand, and exists only to serve the Tenth's will, and is happy for even that.)

"You're quiet today," Tsuna observes after a while, softly.

"Ah! I'm sorry, Te-"

"It's all right, Gokudera-kun," and Tsuna smiles so-bright. "You don't have to. I just like being here."

"....Anything for the Tenth." No more than a reverent murmur. The highest praise, that the Tenth would so enjoy his lowly company.

"Anything," Tsuna repeats, quiet.

"Tenth?"

"Please-" Another soft smile, pleading. "Then please just...stay quiet for a while longer, and let's stay like this?"

Gokudera opens his mouth to respond, closes it. Nods. Whatever you may wish.

After a little while Tsuna slips his hand into Gokudera's. He's tense at first, but Gokudera doesn't say anything and doesn't pull away, and so soon he relaxes.

The two of them (Pair? Couple? No, yes, everything and nothing but Gokudera-and-Tsuna) walk on into one perfect day of many.

War Games: A Colonnello/Lal FST

parametric — Mon, 31 Mar 2008 23:48:24 GMT

Quite a surge of FSTs there's been lately! So what can I do but add to it? Colonnello and Lal need love too, guys. kjfaksjfa nearly didn't finish this in time for fst, but managed it in the end. Hope you enjoy~

WAR GAMES
A Colonnello/Lal FST

Full Download [52.55 MB]

[01.] Drove Through Ghosts To Get Here - 65daysofstatic

An instrumental introductory piece, because introductions are fun. Sorrow, loss, pain, all of these are no strangers to Lal and Colonnello, but there's still that drive to keep going and keep fighting, and this song reflects that nicely.

[02.] She's A Rebel - Green Day

Is she dreaming what I'm thinking
Is she the mother of all bombs
gonna detonate

Is she trouble like I'm trouble
make it a double twist of fate
or a melody that

So first we have Lal Mirch. Badass, no-nonsense, and not to be messed with.

[03.] Walk the Walk - Poe

Hey everybody when you walk the walk
You gotta back it all up you gotta talk the talk
Hey everybody when I hear the knock
Don't wanna measure out my life to the tick of a clock
I wanna walk to the beat of my own drum

And then we have Colonnello. A cocky little military dork with a big gun and an eagle.

....This can't end well.

[04.] For A Pessimist I'm Pretty Optimistic - Paramore

Just talk yourself up and tear yourself down
You've hit your one wall, now find a way around
Well, what's the problem? You've got a lot of nerve

So Colonnello meets Lal, boy meets girl and all that. And, perfectly confident, he asks Lal to teach him. And she just tells him to get lost, because he hasn't got a snowball's chance in hell.

Obviously, this does not sit well with Colonnello. So what does he do? He comes back, proves that he's good enough, and becomes her student. Kora.

[05.] Do Me A Favour - Arctic Monkeys

She walked away, well her shoes were untied,
And the eyes were all red, you could see that we'd cried
And I watched and I waited 'till she was inside
Forcing a smile and waving goodbye.

Time always passes, though, and those days don't last forever. Enter the Arcobaleno curse. Colonnello tried to save Lal, but it backfired on him; now, she's cursed as well, doomed to be an Arcobaleno "failure", with the one consolation that her curse will fade if she doesn't use it.

[06.] Forgiven - Within Temptation

I’ve been so lost since you’ve gone
Why not me before you?
Why did fate deceive me?
Everything turned out so wrong
Why did you leave me in silence?

Obviously Lal is not a happy camper over this. She's been cursed, cast out, and even parted ways with her dumbass of a student (who isn't so bad once you get used to him, really). Colonnello was Lal's downfall, but she still misses him like hell.

[07.] Hey Now Now - The Cloud Room

Hey now now, we're going down down
And we ride the bus there, pay the bus fare
And we find a new reason, a new way of living
And we breathe it in and try to dream again

Colonnello, on the other hand, is a man of irrepressible spirit. Sure, bad things have happened. Sure, their lives aren't the greatest. Still have to make the best of it, though! So that's exactly what he does.

[08.] Wine Red - The Hush Sound

The sea's wine red, this is the death of beauty
The doves have died, the lovers have lied

And then....Colonnello dies. To save Marmon, his fellow Arcobaleno, who then offs himself a few minutes later. Way to go, geniuses.

[09.] Gravity - Yoko Kanno

Been a long road to follow
Been there and gone tomorrow
Without saying goodbye to yesterday
Are the memories I hold still valid?
Or have the tears deluded them?

Lal is, understandably, rather devastated by this news.

[10.] Bleed It Out - Linkin Park

Fuck this hurts, I won't lie
Doesn't matter how hard I try
Half the words don't mean a thing
And I know that I won't be satisfied

Even more understandably, she is pissed. You do not kill her ~~boyfriend~~ student and get away with it scot-free. So she proceeds to kick ass on the Millefiore, any way she can, because that is Lal for you. She's going to have her revenge one way or another.

BONUS TRACKS:

[11.] Bones - The Killers

Without an answer, the thunder speaks for the sky
And on the cold wet dirt I cry
And on the cold wet dirt I cry

Don’t you wanna come with me?
Don’t you wanna feel my bones on your bones?
It’s only natural

Song for the otrolado AU. Here, Colonnello attempted to save Lal from a "curse" of a sort, as in canon; however, he later found that he hadn't been able to save her after all, and was rather devastated about that. Furious with him for risking himself over her, she left without a word and wasn't heard from for several years.

[12.] Games Without Frontiers - Peter Gabriel

If looks could kill they probably will
In games without frontiers, war without tears
Games without frontiers, war without tears

Song for a kids AU, where the Arcobaleno are all childhood friends, constantly picking on each other, getting into mischief, and playing war games. (Lal beat up Colonnello the day they met and he's been nursing a crush on her ever since. He always picks her side whenever they play Pirates vs. Ninjas.)

Icon Post!

parametric — Tue, 26 Feb 2008 05:35:25 GMT

Hoorah for Photoshop! I come bearing icons. All fanart because I still fail at coloring, haha.

44 Katekyo Hitman Reborn! fanart icons:
[2] Gokudera
[3] Byakuran
[9] GokuTsuna
[8] YamaGoku
[4] YamaTsuna
[1] ByakuShou
[3] DinoTsuna
[5] DinoHiba
[2] MukuHiba
[2] RyoHiba
[2] ColoLal
[1] MukuBel
[2] BelMarmon

1	2	3	4	5

6	7	8	9	10

11	12	13	14	15

16	17	18	19	20

21	22	23	24	25

26	27	28	29	30

31	32	33	34	35

36	37	38	39	40

41	42	43	44

RULES:
+ Comments are love
+ Credit is a must
+ Please don't hotlink!
+ If your fanart is here and you want me to credit you or take it down, please ask!
+ Other than that, enjoy!

Red icons!

parametric — Thu, 14 Feb 2008 04:33:56 GMT

So, in my insanity, some of you may recall that I applied for Red over at tanoshimu_rp. Today was spent pretty much making icons of her, and since I've made a lot of them I thought I might as well share. ♥

69 No Rest for the Wicked icons [Red]

1	2	3	4	5

6	7	8	9	10

11	12	13	14	15

16	17	18	19	20

21	22	23	24	25

26	27	28	29	30

31	32	33	34	35

36	37	38	39	40

41	42	43	44	45

46	47	48	49	50

51	52	53	54	55

56	57	58	59	60

61	62	63	64	65

66	67	68	69	70

RULES:
+ Comments are love
+ Credit is a must
+ Please don't hotlink!
+ Other than that, enjoy!

WOW. EVEN RIA MAKES ICONS SOMETIMES.

parametric — Sun, 06 Jan 2008 01:19:50 GMT

So yeah. The Ribotan vid by kurot over on hitman_reborn a couple days ago? Was too awesome not to icon, even for someone like me who doesn't typically do a lot of graphics stuff. Therefore here you are!

As in the case of the source video itself, some of these icons are NOT WORKSAFE, therefore viewer discretion is advised. Also, because it's ecchi and I'm paranoid, this post will be LOCKED on January 12, 2008. You have been warned.

55 Katekyo Hitman Reborn! icons:
[5] Tsuna
[9] Chrome
[5] Mukuro
[10] Gokudera
[6] Yamamoto
[2] Squalo
[1] Xanxus
[5] Hibari
[1] Ryohei
[1] Lambo
[1] Gokudera's psycho cat
[9] Various pairings/whatnot (mostly Mukuro/Chrome)

1	2	3	4	5

6	7	8	9	10

11	12	13	14	15

16	17	18	19	20

21	22	23	24	25

26	27	28	29	30

31	32	33	34	35

36	37	38	39	40

41	42	43	44	45

46	47	48	49	50

51	52	53	54	55

RULES:
+ Comments are love
+ Credit is a must, to me (parametric) for the icons and to kurot for the fantastic art
+ Please don't hotlink!
+ Other than that, enjoy!

I'll also be loading up all my screencaps from the Ribotan vid in a few minutes, if anyone would like to use them. ~~Don't mind all the crazy titles, my friend was staying up with me and I was attempting to amuse her.~~ EDIT: Here they are~

Enjoy! ♥

White chrysanthemums

parametric — Mon, 05 Nov 2007 19:49:11 GMT

Saw this poking around on a few places in my flist, so I figured, what the hell?

Tell me something. Post it anonymously.

A story, a secret, a confession, a fear, a love: anything you want.

Be sure to post honestly. Post twice if you'd like. OR THREE TIMES because hey, inbox spam is fun. ♥

Boy, Interrupted

parametric — Thu, 01 Nov 2007 04:30:38 GMT

Title: Boy, Interrupted
Author: parametric
Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!
Pairing: Tsuna/Gokudera [2759]
Rating: NC-17
Summary: The problem, Tsuna quickly discovered, was not wooing the object of his affections. That was already taken care of. No, the problem was how to get said object alone long enough to take care of both their teenaged hormones to the satisfaction of both parties. [for dualshine]
Disclaimer: So not mine it makes me emo. But not really. ;~;
Notes: Yeah. This is my first time writing a KHR fic, actually . . . . and I have to say, it was one hell of a lot of fun. If I wasn't as into the fandom/pairing before as I could have been, I believe it's safe to say that I AM NOW. As it's my first time writing for this fandom, please forgive characterization errors . . . . enjoy!

Boy, Interrupted

"Juudaime?" Gokudera poked his head into Tsuna's room, wearing that eager grin the other boy had become so used to seeing. "I heard you were asking for me!"

"Um. Y-yeah," Tsuna said nervously, looking at his lap and fidgeting.

"So, what did you want me for?" the silver-haired boy said cheerfully, walking in and kneeling in front of him.

Tsuna blushed furiously at Gokudera's wording and glared at the room in general. He was sure Reborn was around here somewhere; he always was, after all. Stupid Reborn. He just had to threaten Tsuna with the Dying Will bullet, didn't he . . . .

"Juudaime?"

Tsuna snapped back to the present at Gokudera's question, his blush growing even deeper. "Ah, yes?"

"You wanted something from me?" And there was that eager-to-please puppy look Tsuna knew so well by now.

"W-well, um," Tsuna stammered. "I. Ah. I."

Gokudera just would not stop smiling at him!

Finally Tsuna looked down to his lap again. "You'd - you'd do anything for me, right?" he mumbled. Oh. Well, that wasn't the worst thing to say ever, sure.

"Of course, Juudaime!" Gokudera said enthusiastically.

"Then. Um. D'you - d'you think maybe . . . . maybe . . . ." Tsuna trailed off, blushing still deeper. He hadn't known it was even possible to go this red.

Gokudera waited expectantly.

There was the sound of a pistol being cocked, and immediately Tsuna panicked. "Couldyoumaybeteachmeaboutsexplease!" he blurted out desperately.

Silence.

Then, "Juudaime?"

"Y-yes?" Tsuna chanced a glance at his friend.

"Could you repeat that? I didn't understand what you were saying."

Great. He had to say it again. Tsuna took a deep breath - he'd said it once, he could say it again, he could so do this - and slowly, anxiously, murmured, "Could you . . . . I mean, if you wanted to . . . . and if it's really okay . . . . maybe . . . . please . . . . teach me what. Um. What . . . . what sex is like?" The last part was no more than a tiny whisper.

More silence. Tsuna bowed his head, feeling more humiliated than he ever had in his whole life.

There was a small choking sound, and Tsuna looked up to see Gokudera hit the floor in a dead faint.

--

Gokudera let out a small groan, opening his eyes slowly.

Tsuna breathed a sigh of relief. "Are you all right, Gokudera-kun?" he asked. "I'm sorry . . . . I -"

Gokudera took one look at him, yelped, and suddenly Tsuna found the other boy prostrating himself on the floor before him. "Juudaime! I'm sorry!" he cried.

"Um. What . . . . for?" Tsuna replied, utterly confused.

"I'm not even fit to lay eyes on you, Juudaime!" Gokudera yelled, bowing even lower, if that were possible. "Forgive my indiscretion! I can't believe I even dared to dream such a thing!"

"Dream . . . . what?"

"It's not fit for your ears to hear, Juudaime! Please forgive me!"

"N-never mind that," Tsuna assured him nervously. "What, um, what did you dream about?"

"Forgive me, Juudaime," Gokudera half-wailed.

"Gokudera-kun, just tell me!" Tsuna cried in frustration.

Gokudera froze, then slumped. "I . . . . I dreamed that you . . . . made a proposal, Juudaime."

"What sort of proposal?" Tsuna asked.

"You . . . . you . . . . you asked me to have . . . . sexual relations with you, Juudaime," Gokudera stammered. "Please, forgive me!"

"Um. Gokudera-kun," Tsuna mumbled. "That . . . . wasn't a dream."

The other boy raised his head a little. "J-Juudaime?"

Tsuna hesitated, but then he heard the pistol being cocked again, and hastily he ducked his head, mumbling, "I really did ask you for that, Gokudera-kun."

Gokudera sat up slowly, staring at him wide-eyed. Tsuna flushed deeply, muttering, "F-forget it, Gokudera-kun. I . . . . I shouldn't have ask-"

"You want me, Juudaime?" Gokudera asked hoarsely.

"Um. Yes?" Tsuna half-squeaked.

There was another long pause. Finally Tsuna mumbled awkwardly, "Please don't faint agai-"

"I'm not worthy, Juudaime!" Gokudera cried, prostrating himself again. "S-such an honor!"

"Wait. You . . . . don't mind?" Tsuna said incredulously.

Gokudera sat up again, that same familiar look of utter adoration in his eyes. "To have Juudaime ask such a thing of me is truly an honor. I would - I would be happy to do so."

"R-really?"

Gokudera nodded, smiling broadly.

"Oh. Well. I." Tsuna blushed, looking down. "Okay."

There was yet another of those long, awkward pauses. Then Gokudera said, tentatively, "How would you like to have me, Juudaime?"

"Ah - I - ah -" A small part of Tsuna's brain died at that question. "However you want?" he finally managed.

Gokudera nodded, moving slowly to sit on the bed beside Tsuna. "Juudaime, have you ever . . . . ?"

". . . . No. Have you . . . . ?"

It was Gokudera's turn to blush and look away. "Ah . . . . no, Juudaime."

"Oh," Tsuna said quietly.

"But Shamal taught me all about eroticism!" he continued enthusiastically. "So you don't have to worry!"

"Somehow that isn't comforting," Tsuna muttered, but he allowed Gokudera to push him back onto the bed gently.

They stared at each other for a few moments, before Gokudera asked softly, "Juudaime, are you sure you . . . . ?"

Tsuna nodded. "Yeah. Just . . . . just do it, please?"

Gokudera nodded, gently slipping Tsuna's vest off and then starting to work on the buttons of the other boy's shirt. Tsuna swallowed nervously and began to fumble with Gokudera's clothes in return.

"Tsuna?" his mother called. "You have a guest! Kyoko-chan is here!"

Both boys froze. Later, Tsuna would reflect on just how fast Gokudera got their clothes back in place and sat down at the table as though nothing had happened with a kind of wondering awe; at the time, however, he was just glad that nothing appeared out of the ordinary when Kyoko walked in, smiling innocently.

As Tsuna glanced forlornly to his lap, he realized that this was quite possibly one of the most humiliating moments of his life. And to think, nobody was even there to see his shame.

--

As it turned out, Tsuna wasn't able to catch another moment of solitude with Gokudera for a few days after that awkward confession and even more awkward moment of nearly being caught. A few times he wondered if it had even happened at all, but then Gokudera would turn and smile at him, and Tsuna would catch himself smiling back in a goofy, happy, my-bones-are-melting sort of way. There was something else in Gokudera's eyes now, some new level of affection that Tsuna hadn't seen before.

Still, he didn't have another opportunity to talk with Gokudera about what had (not) happened for a little while after that, just to sneak a few subtle touches and furtive kisses when no one else was looking. Of course, those weren't bad, just . . . . secretive.

Yeah.

It was the weekend now; both of them were at Yamamoto's place, picking at the remains of the sushi their friend's father had given them. "He's at baseball practice," the man had said when they'd asked about Yamamoto, then insisted that them staying to wait was no trouble at all.

So they waited. And waited. And waited.

Tsuna was feeling a little uncomfortable by now. Gokudera was right there, and all they were doing was just sitting and waiting . . . .

"Hey. Juudaime," Gokudera mumbled at last.

"Mmm?" Tsuna looked over at the other boy.

Gokudera met his eyes almost shyly. "May I kiss you?"

Tsuna's eyes went wide, and he flushed hotly, scooting away. "B-b-but -"

Instantly Gokudera's expression became one of shame, and he prostrated himself on the floor. "F-forgive me, Juudaime! I shouldn't have asked! To have presumed such a thing -"

"N-no, Gokudera-kun, it's all right!" Tsuna said hastily. "I just -"

Gokudera looked at him expectantly and with just a trace of hope.

Tsuna flushed, mumbling, "I don't mind you kissing me, Gokudera-kun."

Gokudera paused, and then the most radiant smile Tsuna had ever seen spread on his face. The next thing Tsuna knew he'd been swept up into the other boy's arms, Gokudera's lips pressing to his warmly.

After the initial moment of shock, Tsuna started struggling to push Gokudera away. "I - w-wait - Gokudera-kun!" he gasped.

"What is it, Juudaime?" Gokudera asked anxiously, pausing.

"I . . . . we . . . . this is Yamamoto's house!" Tsuna protested weakly. "Wh-what if he comes home?"

Gokudera grinned. "Is that all, Juudaime? Don't worry, the baseball freak's so dedicated to that stupid sport he probably won't be back for hours."

Any protest Tsuna might have made to this was effectively silenced by Gokudera leaning in to press their lips together again. This time, after a few moments of sitting there like a statue, Tsuna shrugged mentally and settled into the kiss. Gokudera made an approving sound as Tsuna responded to him, his tongue tracing over the other boy's lips.

It took a few minutes for Tsuna to figure out what Gokudera wanted, but once he had he opened his mouth willingly. Gokudera's tongue swept into his mouth; the kiss wasn't perfect, in fact it was rather sloppy, but it still felt wonderful.

"G-Gokudera-kun," Tsuna mumbled in protest when they broke off the kiss.

"Yes, Juudaime?" the other boy replied, electing to start his lips on working their way along Tsuna's neck now.

"W-we really shouldn't," Tsuna moaned. Really, though, what with the sort of things Gokudera's hands and lips were doing, he doubted that he really cared at this point, and even if he did, at this rate he certainly wouldn't for much longer -

The front door opened, and Yamamoto's voice called, "I'm home, old man!"

Instantly the two boys sprang apart, panting. When Yamamoto walked in, they were refusing to look at each other and fiddling with whatever was available, looking flushed and rather rumpled. "Hey, guys! Were you waiting for me to get back?"

Tsuna nodded, staring resolutely at the table.

Yamamoto frowned a little, looking concerned. "Is something wrong?"

"N-no!" Tsuna stammered hastily. "Nothing at all! Wh-why do you ask?"

"You two seem a little . . . . off," Yamamoto replied. "What's going on?"

"What's going on is that you made us wait for practically an eternity, bastard," Gokudera replied coolly, inspecting his nails. "Took you long enough to get back here."

"Ah, right, I'm sorry about that," Yamamoto laughed, and seemed to accept that excuse. Tsuna breathed a sigh of relief.

--

Tsuna was understandably frustrated by this point. After all, what he really wanted right now was for his right-hand man to tear off his clothes and ravish him, said right-hand man was perfectly amenable to said ravishing, and yet somehow Tsuna was still unravished.

Sexual frustration sucked. Hardcore. And not in the good way.

After a week of having to put up with this, Tsuna was desperate. It really wasn't helping that Gokudera was only getting more attractive (at least, it seemed that he was) every single day. Tsuna could hardly even look at him when they were in the same vicinity for fear of getting into a rather embarrassing - as well as potentially compromising - situation. Getting turned on in the middle of the teacher's lecture was not a good idea in any way, shape or form.

Which is why, when Gokudera skipped out on class halfway through one day, the young Vongola heir ran after him, and ended up half-dragging his subordinate out to the school roof. Grades be damned, propriety be damned, Tsuna needed his some and he needed it now.

"Juudaime?" Gokudera asked uncertainly as they stumbled onto the roof, his expression confused.

Tsuna let go of Gokudera's hand and turned to him with a pleading look. "Please, Gokudera-kun," he said softly. "I'm going crazy here, pl-please?"

"Please . . . . what, Juudaime?"

Tsuna let out a small noise of frustration and pressed his lips to Gokudera's quickly, pulling back again a moment later. "Come on, Gokudera-kun," he groaned. "I need -"

Tsuna didn't get the chance to finish that sentence. Gokudera smiled, pulling his boss back to him and easing his lips over the other boy's.

Tsuna let out a pleasured little sound as Gokudera adjusted his grip so he was holding him more securely, settling into the silver-haired boy's arms contentedly. Gokudera's tongue flicked against his mouth; remembering the last time, Tsuna opened his lips. The kiss was still a little sloppy, but better than the one they'd had at (Tsuna still blushed to remember, when his mind wasn't on . . . . other things) Yamamoto's house.

Gokudera slowly sank to the ground, pulling Tsuna with him and not breaking the kiss. The young Vongola heir didn't resist as he was gently pushed back against the concrete, Gokudera's weight settling over him comfortably. Gokudera broke the kiss then, trailing his lips along Tsuna's jawline, down his neck, across his collarbone. A hand dipped down the front of Tsuna's pants gently, and he gasped pleasurably.

"You . . . ." A cool voice drifted to Tsuna's ears. Instantly he froze, then sat up, pushing Gokudera away as he did.

Hibari Kyoya looked as utterly calm as usual, but that only made him more menacing. "You would dare to defile Namimori Middle School with such immoral acts," he said softly, tightening his grip on his tonfas. "I'll bite you to death."

If Tsuna and Gokudera both screamed in a distinctly unmasculine manner at that moment, they couldn't be faulted for it. Besides, even if they did, neither of them was ever telling.

--

"Are you all right, Juudaime?"

Tsuna nodded, smiling to reassure Gokudera that he was all right. "Yeah. Keep going?"

"All right . . . ." Gokudera swallowed nervously, pressing lube-slicked fingers at Tsuna's entrance. "You're sure you're up to it? You're not still in pain from the beating we got from Hibari last week? You -"

"Gokudera-kun, I swear I'm fine," Tsuna half-whined. "I think I'm gonna explode if you make me wait any longer . . . ."

"....All right, Juudaime. Tell me if you want to stop, okay?" Gently Gokudera pressed a finger into Tsuna's body, then another, and another a few minutes later, stretching him out carefully. "Does it hurt?"

"A - a little," Tsuna mumbled. At the look on Gokudera's face he quickly added, "It's not much, I'm fine, keep going. Please?"

Gokudera hesitated, then nodded, beginning to stretch Tsuna with his fingers again. The Vongola heir shifted uncomfortably, wincing once or twice, but gradually his discomfort faded. In fact, it had actually started feeling sort of good . . . . Tsuna moaned softly as Gokudera's fingers brushed up against something good.

Gokudera paused. "Juudaime?"

"I'm fine," Tsuna mumbled, shifting to press against the other boy's fingers. "I . . . . nn . . . . I think I'm okay. Can we . . . . ?"

Gokudera nodded and pulled his fingers from Tsuna gently, wiping them on the sheets before positioning himself at the other boy's entrance. "Are you sure, Juudaime?" he asked again.

Tsuna nodded, pulling Gokudera down for a kiss. "C'mon, just do it," he murmured softly.

Gokudera nodded, taking a deep breath and beginning to push into Tsuna. The other boy winced, letting out a soft yelp of pain; this felt so much bigger, fuller, more painful than Gokudera's fingers had. If Tsuna were the swearing type, he'd probably have let loose a "fuck" or two; as it was, though, he just stifled a whimper or two and tried to bear with it.

The instant Tsuna cried out, though, Gokudera froze. Utterly froze. The Vongola heir looked up after a few moments, confused. "Gokudera-kun?"

Gokudera didn't reply. His eyes were wide, his expression horrified. "Ju . . . . Juudaime . . . ."

Tsuna pushed himself up on his elbows a little. "Go-"

"Forgive me, Juudaime!" Gokudera pulled himself away from Tsuna as if he'd been burned, bolting to the window and tossing himself from it without a trace of hesitation, still naked.

"G-Gokudera-kun!"

--

Tsuna opened the door. "Ah, Gokudera-kun!"

The other boy averted his eyes. An awkward silence filtered through the atmosphere, until finally he muttered, "May I come in, Juudaime?"

"Of - of course!" Tsuna held the door open, standing aside for his friend. Gokudera stumbled in; Tsuna noticed with a guilty pang that he was still limping a little from his fall. Those bandageds didn't help at all for the general effect, either. "Sh-should you really be up and about so soon?" he asked nervously.

Gokudera wouldn't meet his eyes. "This is nothing, Juudaime," he mumbled.

"You're sure you're okay?"

"I-I'm fine, Juudaime. I am honored by your concern." Gokudera looked at the floor, scuffing a foot against it. "I don't deserve your well wishes."

"What are you talking about?" Tsuna asked, confused.

Gokudera scuffed his foot again. "I hurt you, Juudaime," he said softly, at last.

"You - are you still feeling guilty about that?" Tsuna said, shocked. "But Gokudera-kun-"

"It's my duty to protect you, Juudaime," Gokudera replied over Tsuna's protest. "Instead I hurt you. I'm a failure as your guardian and as your right-hand man -"

"But that's stupid!" Tsuna protested. "I'm really all right, Gokudera-kun, honestly I -"

"Ah, Gokudera-kun! You've come over again?" Nana poked her head out into the foyer, smiling. "It's so nice to see you! Would you like something to eat?"

"Ah . . . ." Tsuna glanced between his mother and his friend nervously. "Mom, is it all right if we go to my room? Gokudera-kun and I have things to talk about . . . ."

"All right, Tsuna," she said, waving them off with a smile. "Come back down when you get hungry."

"Yeah, we will," he said, smiling as he started up the stairs, Gokudera trailing after him.

"Have fun, boys!" Nana called as they walked into Tsuna's room.

"Thanks, mom!" he replied, then closed the door and sighed. "Um, where were we?"

"I'm a failure as your subordinate, guardian and right-hand-man," Gokudera reminded him morosely, seating himself on one of the cushions around Tsuna's table.

"You're not," Tsuna protested with a sigh, sitting down by his friend.

"If you're so ashamed, Gokudera," Reborn threw in from his place on the windowsill (Tsuna yelped in surprise and looked around, glaring at him), "then why are you here?"

"To apologize to the Tenth for doing such a thing, and ask his forgiveness," Gokudera replied dismally, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Tsuna blinked. "Um. Well. I . . . . forgive you?" he said, a little uncertainly. "Now can we please get past this? I'd kind of like to keep going where we left off. If Reborn will give us a little privacy, anyway," and here he aimed a wary glance at his mentor.

"All right, I'll let you handle it, Tsuna. Ciaossu!" Reborn leapt from the windowsill, Leon transforming into a hot air balloon as he did. The pair of them slowly drifted up and away.

Tsuna watched them go for a few moments, then turned back to Gokudera. "So. Gokudera-kun. Can we . . . . ?"

"Absolutely not," Gokudera grumbled. "I'm not hurting you again, Juudaime."

"But - it's fine, Gokudera-kun, I want you to!" Tsuna protested. Then he considered what he'd just said, and added, "Well, not to hurt me, but you know what I -"

"See? You don't want to be hurt again, either," Gokudera cut him off.

"Come on, please?"

"No. I won't."

"But I'm asking you to . . . ."

"I won't take the chance of hurting you again, Juudaime!"

"Then I'll do it!" Tsuna cried in frustration. "Just, please, can we please try having sex again?"

Gokudera paused. "You would be on top?"

Tsuna sighed, blushing deeply as he muttered, "Sure."

"And I would take the brunt of the pain?"

That phrase made Tsuna feel a little nervous. "W-well, it wasn't that bad, I mean, I'm sure you -" he babbled.

"I'll do it," Gokudera said decisively, standing up with a determined smile. "It would be an honor to take the pain in place of my Juudaime."

"I - you -" Tsuna gave up. "You're impossible," he muttered to himself.

"Juudaime?"

"Nothing!" he said hastily with a nervous laugh.

Gokudera smiled expectantly.

After a few minutes, Tsuna asked anxiously, "Um . . . . what am I supposed to do?"

Gokudera appeared to contemplate this for a moment. "I believe it would probably be a good idea to move to the bed first, Juudaime," he offered.

"O-oh. Right." Tsuna got up and walked over to the bed, sitting down by Gokudera. "Ah . . . . what now?"

Gokudera hesitated. "Would you . . . . like me to guide you through it, Juudaime?" he said slowly. "As I said, Shamal taught me about it . . . ."

"W-well - um -" Tsuna wasn't very inclined to trust Dr. Shamal's advice, but it was better than nothing, perhaps. "Okay," he mumbled.

"All right. First, of course, we should probably remove our clothes," Gokudera said with a small smile.

"Ah. Right." Tsuna started pulling off his clothing, noticing Gokudera doing the same thing from his peripheral vision.

When they'd finished undressing, Gokudera reached over to pull a small tube from his pants pocket, handing it to Tsuna, and then leaned back on the sheets of Tsuna's bed.

"Um . . . . what's this?"

"It's lubricant, Juudaime. Shamal told me that you use it to prepare your partner. You should squeeze some on your hands and rub it on your fingers."

"Okay. Um. Like this?" Tsuna asked nervously, squeezing some of the lubricant into his palm and spreading it over his fingers.

"Yes, Juudaime. After you've finished that, you should stretch me out down here." Gokudera spread his legs apart, gesturing down to his entrance. Tsuna thought he felt a nosebleed coming on. "You remember how I did it? Slowly, one finger at a time."

Tsuna nodded, swallowing nervously and crawling over to Gokudera. "Just - just tell me if you don't like it, okay?"

Gokudera smiled warmly. "Of course, Juudaime. Thank you."

Tsuna bit his lip and nodded again, pressing a finger to Gokudera's entrance and then pushing it inside. Gokudera groaned softly, and he glanced up worriedly, but the other boy shook his head. "Go ahead."

"'Kay," Tsuna said uncertainly, pressing another finger inside and beginning to move them in and out of Gokudera. It was a bit of a strange feeling, putting his fingers inside Gokudera, watching him react. The other boy let out a few grunts and screwed up his face once or twice, but for the most part he didn't protest, even when Tsuna added another finger.

"Well, I, I think that's pretty good," Tsuna mumbled after a few minutes, pulling his fingers out. "Um. Are you . . . . are you ready, d'you think?"

Gokudera nodded, shifting his legs a little further apart. "Go on, Juudaime," he murmured.

That was a very nice view, Tsuna had to admit. After a few moments of gawking, he snapped back to reality, and moved to position himself awkwardly above Gokudera, lifting the other boy's legs over his shoulders. "It's - it's going to hurt a bit," he warned shakily. "Tell me if - if you don't want to -"

"Thank you, Juudaime," Gokudera cut him off gently. "Please?"

Tsuna bit his lip, nodded, and guided himself to Gokudera's entrance, pushing in slowly. Gokudera winced, letting out a small grunt of pain. "Are - are you okay, Gokudera-kun?" Tsuna asked, halting his movements.

Gokudera gritted his teeth and nodded. "Just - just do it, Juudaime," he groaned. "I'm fine."

Tsuna nodded anxiously, slowly moving forward until he was fully inside Gokudera. He stopped there, panting, waiting for Gokudera to adjust. "Is it . . . . wrong to say that this feels really, really good?" he mumbled tentatively.

Gokudera smiled, though the expression was still pained. "There is no higher compliment than pleasing the boss," he muttered in reply.

Tsuna blushed at that. "Just - just tell me when you feel like we can keep going, okay?" Though really, he didn't know what he was going to do if Gokudera didn't adjust to this soon. It felt far better than anything he'd ever experienced, and certainly he didn't think he was going to last very long like this . . . . and he wanted Gokudera to feel good, too.

At last the other boy nodded. "I'm all right now, Juudaime," he murmured.

Tsuna breathed a sigh of relief and slowly, awkwardly, started to move. The motions were still unfamiliar, rough, but soon enough he had a fair rhythm going. Soon Gokudera had stopped wincing and was moving with Tsuna's rhythm, moaning softly. Tsuna reached down, tentatively taking hold of Gokudera's arousal and slowly stroking it, and suddenly Gokudera was screaming his name and arching up against him, a heavy white liquid coating his fingers -

And then he felt Gokudera clenching down around him and it was too much, he couldn't hold on -

And, quite suddenly, it was over, and they were just a pair of sweaty boys tangled together none too comfortably on a small bed. Tsuna groaned softly, pulling out of Gokudera and rolling off the other boy. Gokudera mumbled some incoherent protest at this, reaching out to pull Tsuna close again.

"That was . . . . quick," Tsuna murmured tiredly into Gokudera's neck, cuddling close to him. "Did I do okay?"

"You were magnificent, Juudaime," Gokudera replied, sounding just as exhausted as he was.

"Mmm. You know, I think that was the first time you addressed me as something other than 'Juudaime'," Tsuna mumbled.

"Mm?"

"You called me Tsuna. When you . . . . you know." Tsuna blushed, unable to bring himself to say it.

"Ah, I - I did?" Suddenly Gokudera sounded very embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Juudaime, I shouldn't have -"

"I liked it," Tsuna said softly, before Gokudera could get carried away. "I wouldn't mind hearing you call me that again . . . ."

Gokudera paused. Then he murmured, "But you are the Juudaime . . . . it would be improper to call you anything else . . . ."

"Mmm, I guess," Tsuna yawned, too tired to argue the point. "But, I mean . . . . like this. It'd be nice."

Another pause. Then, "You would like to . . . . to do this with me again?"

Tsuna blinked. "Why wouldn't I . . . . ? I wouldn't have asked you in the first place if I didn't want to . . . ."

Gokudera didn't say anything, but his embrace grew just a little tighter.

"Oi. Gokudera," Tsuna mumbled, yawning again. He hadn't expected to be this tired afterwards . . . .

"Y-yes, Juudaime?"

"Did . . . ." Tsuna fidgeted a little. "Did it feel good?"

"Ah . . . . well . . . . yes. It did. Better than anything," Gokudera said slowly.

"Could I try bottoming next time, then?"

"No."

"Wh-what? But - you said it feels good -"

"But it still hurts! I told you I wouldn't allow that to happen to you, Juudaime!"

"But I want to know what it feels like!"

"Would you like to use your Dying Will to find out?"

"R-REBORN?! When did you get back here?"

"Just now. Ciaossu. So, would you like to use your Dying Will, Tsuna?"

"NO! I-I'm fine, thank you! Please don't do that!"

~Fin~

End Notes: This thing was a ton of fun, yes, but it was also a little bitch to get out. Honestly, I ended up getting blocked for certain parts but ohhhh, I just knew I could do others, and what ended up happening is I would put whatever part I was being blocked on in brackets and move on to the next point. This is seriously one of my notes: [blahblah insert makeout scene here C'MON I'M IN THE ZONE I CAN'T LET A DAMN KISS BREAK MY STRIDE]. That's not even the most amusing one, but you get the idea. It was a bit of a meanie to me.

On the other hand, I think I can now say that I'm pretty firmly in the KHR/5927 camp. This was too much fun for me NOT to be, man. I think I'm gonna actually end up writing other oneshots based off this one, too. CURSE YOU, DUAL. Who, by the way, I adore/loathe for giving me so many awesome prompts/ideas to play with for these pretty boys. *croons over them*

A Most Peculiar Mademoiselle [1/5]

parametric — Sun, 28 Oct 2007 20:49:37 GMT

Title: A Most Peculiar Mademoiselle
Authors: parametric, taistoi
Pairing: Zexion/Demyx
Rating: Probably R, for the moment.
Summary: The worst part wasn't that they were stranded twenty years in the past. Nor was it the fact that he was stuck with Zexion, of all people. No, for Demyx, the worst part was getting turned into a woman.
Disclaimer: Do you really think the original creators would have put these characters through this kind of torture?
Notes: Forgive me. I humbly turn myself in for whatever punishment you may devise for me. I deserve it. I have only this to say in my defense - Ryune and I craved genderswitch. We desired our glorious crack. And we apparently have brains on LSD. ....And dear lord but this was fun. That said, enjoy!

A Most Peculiar Mademoiselle
Chapitre Un

"What are we doing here?" Demyx asked, glancing around at the trees just a touch nervously.

"Don't you at least try to pay attention to instructions, Nine?" Zexion sighed in tones of exasperation. "We're here because Vexen's instruments picked up an abnormal reading coming from the Beast's Castle. Hence the Superior sent us to investigate, considering we're the pair most apt for spying and subtlety." Here he glanced over Demyx scornfully. "Though I don't understand how you could possibly have any aptitude for such an endeavor."

Demyx stared at him for a few moments. "Okay," he said slowly, "I'm going to ignore the insult there. I already knew that, Zexion. My point is, where the hell are we?"

"A forest, obviously," Zexion said curtly, ignoring Demyx’s dour grumblings about him being short, snobby, stuck-up and otherwise a jerk. Of course it was a forest, they were surrounded by trees and could hear wolves howling in distance. What else would it be?

"So which way is the castle?" asked Demyx, rubbing his nose and shrugging off his hood. Zexion made a vague gesture towards the north, and the two set out to find the Castle.

They were stopped by a woman in a white dress that seemed to shimmer and sparkle. She was nearly reeking of power, Zexion noted with his sensitive nose. Not the type he would want to anger unnecessarily.

Zexion glanced to Demyx, hoping he wouldn't do anything rash, then back to the woman. "Excuse me," he said politely, "but -"

"What is your errand here?" she cut him off.

Zexion paused; Demyx jumped in instead. "We heard there was some sort of . . . . um, disturbance here and wanted to check it out," he said carefully. "Can you tell us -"

"You are not native to this land," the woman said over his question.

Demyx scratched the back of his head nervously. "Well, um -"

"What brings offworlders to such a place as this?" she continued.

"Off . . . . worlders?" Demyx said weakly, apparently giving up his attempts at this point.

"Do not presume me a fool." Her eyes hardened, just a bit. "Your garments are not those of the native people, and you still have traces of the time-warping spell you interrupted on you."

Both Nobodies paused.

Tentatively, Zexion said "Time . . . ."

". . . . Warping?" Demyx finished weakly.

The woman pursed her lips. "Yes, time-warping. Are you deaf?"

"By 'time-warping'," Zexion said warily, "what, precisely, do you mean?"

She sighed, obviously irritated. "I mean that you were foolish enough to blunder into a pocket of warped time. You are lucky to have only ended up twenty years in the past. It could have been far worse."

"Twenty years?" Demyx demanded. "But that -"

The woman's hard eyes snapped to him. "You should be grateful it was no worse, you petulant child. Hold your tongue."

Demyx opened his mouth again, but at a warning glance from Zexion he thought better of it. The slate-haired Nobody turned to the woman. "And who might you be, madam? You seem to know quite a lot about this, and how we arrived in these circumstances."

The woman drew herself up proudly with the hint of a smile. "I am the Enchantress of this land," she replied. "Some call me the Lady d'Hiver; you may refer to me by that name, if you wish."

"Ah, I see," Zexion responded cordially. "Well then, Lady d'Hiver, perhaps you might return us to our proper home and time, then? We merely wished to investigate the source of the disturbance, and meant you no harm . . . ."

Her lips curved into a smirk. "Perhaps," she replied coolly.

Demyx let out a small sound of frustration. "Honestly. Women," he grumbled to Zexion. "I mean, can't they ever just be straight with you instead of all this -"

"Demyx," Zexion warned.

"Look, Zex, she's been an utterly demanding bitch to us the whole time!" Demyx continued. "I mean, is she PMSing or something? Did we catch her on her period?"

"Demyx," Zexion said in a menacing tone.

"Zexion -"

"I see you understand little of women, if you believe something so foolish," the Enchantress said, and now her smile was gone and her demeanor far more forbidding. "Very well then. Perhaps I shall . . . . enlighten you." She pointed at him dramatically, an otherworldly glow sparking in her eyes as she declared, "This oath I lay upon thee: that neither shall you be returned to your true form, nor shall you and your companion return to your rightful home, until the day comes when you know what it truly is to be a woman. So shall it be henceforth, from this day till then." And with that, she turned and strode off into the forbidding darkness of the forest.

"Wait," Zexion called, running after her, but she seemed to have vanished.

With a sigh, he turned back to Demyx. "Well, that was a complete and utter disas-" Then he stopped, and stared.

Demyx was looking down at himself with an expression of shock. Slowly, he lifted a hand and grasped one of the breasts now adorning his chest (and threatening to burst open his zipper), almost as if making sure it was real. "I . . . . I . . . . huh?"

Although Zexion was generally one to hold his tongue until he had something to say, very rarely was he at a loss for words.

This qualified as one of those times.

Finally, after an eternity of stunned silence, punctuated every now and then by a horrified squeak as Demyx tried to internalize what had occurred, Zexion finally managed to blurt, "She turned you into a woman."

"YES, she turned me into a woman!" Demyx roared angrily, pointing to his – well, her – chest. "I have boobs, Zexion! Boobs! How am I supposed to explain this at the next meeting, huh?"

"I would imagine you have additional female anatomy as well," Zexion mumbled, trying just as hard as Demyx to process the fact that Number Nine was now, indeed, a woman.

Finally, Demyx couldn’t take it anymore. She stomped behind a tree, obscured from Zexion’s view. The Schemer couldn’t see what was happening, but the tell-tale sound of a zipper indicated that Demyx was inspecting herself. The indignant scream (a rather girly one, although that was understandable) was proof enough.

Demyx whipped back around the tree, holding her coat closed with one hand, the other shoved down the front of her pants. "It’s GONE, Zexion! It’s fucking GONE!"

"Well, I would imagine that your penis would be gone, Nine, seeing as you are now a woman." Zexion cleared his throat, fighting a blush. "Could you please zip your coat back up so we can figure out how to extract ourselves from this mess?"

Demyx zipped her coat up and wailed mournfully, "This is seriously the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. I mean, it’s bad enough that I had to lose my heart, now I go and lose my dick, too?" Her shoulders slumped. "This is so unfair."

"Yes. Ah. Well," Zexion said uncomfortably. "We should probably attempt to find some sort of village or whatnot . . . . as I suspect that we'll be here for quite a while."

"Yeah. Great. Just great," Demyx muttered. "Fan-fucking-tastic. Lead on, o great one, lead on."

--

"So, you've been seekin' a place to settle down, eh?" The bartender watched the pair of them warily.

Zexion smiled politely. "Yes. Myself and my -" quickly he considered the possible explanations he could give, and selected the least conspicuous one, "- my wife are attempting to find a new life for ourselves. This village seems an ideal place to settle down . . . ." There was a muffled sound of protest from Demyx at the word "wife", but nothing else.

"Oh, aye, I s'pose. And the pair o' you struck out all on your own, then?"

Zexion nodded. "Yes, I'm afraid so. Might you know of a good place to stay, until we have our own home?"

"Oh? It's lodgings you need?" another voice broke in.

Zexion turned, his smile growing warmer. "Yes, for the moment at least."

The man who'd spoken up smiled in return. "I'm Maurice. There's another small cottage on my property, if you're interested. 'Tisn't much, but . . . ."

"Thank you, that will do quite nicely," Zexion replied, smiling gratefully. "And in return, you'd like . . . . ?"

"Ah, no more than you can afford," Maurice assured him blithely. "And perhaps company once in a while, or help in an experiment or two when I've need of it."

"Experiment?" Zexion asked.

"Oh, yes. I'm an inventor," Maurice said with a grin. "Not much of one, but it's a living."

Zexion's smile grew wider. "I believe I might be of some use to you after all, then," he said quietly. "I've studied many theories and sciences, in the days of my youth."

"Oh-ho? And where were those days spent, to have such a fine education, lad?"

"Nowhere in particular." Zexion shrugged. "That's in the past now, in any case. So, we have a bargain?"

"Indeed we do, sir," Maurice replied, extending a hand to shake. "Can I dare to ask your name?"

Zexion allowed himself a small laugh. "Of course," he replied shaking Maurice's hand warmly. "I'm Zexion, Zexion Prideaux. This is my wife, Demyx."

"Zexion and Demyx? Unusual names," Maurice remarked.

"I really can't thank you enough . . . ." Zexion began, hoping to distract the man from that particular train of thought.

The older man waved this concern away. "Think nothing of it, lad. If it eases your mind, think of it as a gift to the newlyweds." And here he winked.

Here Zexion paused, before deciding to go with this. "You could tell?"

"Oh, yes. Young lovers, you know." Maurice leaned back in his chair. "So, then, that's settled."

This exchange seemed to embolden the others in the tavern, and soon questions were flying at the newcomers from all directions. Zexion answered these to the best of his abilities; Demyx, in the meantime, simply sat and stared at her chest mournfully.

--

"I can't believe I have to be married to you," Demyx grumbled later that night, after they'd gotten to their new home. "And that we have to share a bed."

"That is what married couples do, Demyx," Zexion sighed. "And there's only one bed. Believe me when I say it's as onerous for me as it is for you."

"Yeah, sure, I'll just bet -"

Whatever Demyx was betting on would have to wait for another time, as there was a knock on the door.

Zexion went to the door. "Ah, Maurice?"

The inventor smiled, holding out a basket. "Here, some extra clothes for you and your wife; I notice hers don't quite fit, and neither of you will be comfortable in those for long."

Zexion took the basket carefully. "Thank you . . . . much appreciated."

"Well, I'll leave you two to yourselves to get adjusted, then," Maurice said, smiling. "Good night!"

"Good night, Maurice," Zexion replied, closing the door gently.

"Who was that?" Demyx asked from their bedroom.

"Maurice. He brought some new clothes for us," Zexion called back.

Demyx took the basket from Zexion and rifled through the contents. She finally pulled out a wine-colored frock and a white shirt, frowning at the slip of paper with her name written on it that was pinned to the offending garments. "Dresses."

"Of course," Zexion said smoothly. "This is France, and you are a woman. The villagers would be scandalized if they saw you wearing men’s clothing."

"They’d be scandalized if they knew I was really –"

Zexion clapped a hand over Demyx’s mouth. "I know that, and you know that. If we are to survive here, unnoticed as outsiders and unnoticed as nobodies, we must make every effort to blend in. You announcing that when anyone could potentially be listening is foolish."

Demyx grumbled petulantly and turned toward the bedroom.

"Ah, one moment." Zexion called to her retreating back. He tossed her another article of clothing. "Maurice seems to think you should wear this as well."

"A scarf?"

"Your hairstyle is considered odd, even for a male member of the Organization. Imagine how much odder it will be considered here."

She pouted, then retorted, "Well, what about you? Your ‘do isn’t any less conspicuous."

Zexion closed his eyes, fighting back the tiniest flutter of frustration. "I will attempt to do something with my hair as well."

--

Demyx emerged from the bedroom a few moments later, wearing the dress and scarf and looking, for all anyone could tell, like an ordinary village woman. Zexion himself was wearing appropriate clothing for the time, and had somehow managed to tie his slate-colored hair back into a small ponytail.

Demyx blinked. "Hey, I can see the other half of your face."

"Refrain from commenting on my appearance, Nine, and I shall in turn refrain from commenting on just how fetching that dress you are wearing is."

She bit her lip angrily. "You know, it sucks that we’re both stuck here, but you could, y’know, try not to be an asshole."

"I seem to recall that it was your doing that got us into this mess, darling," Zexion retorted sourly. "As unpleasant as this is for both of us, we shall simply have to bear with it and resist insulting each other as much as possible. As it stands, we need to pretend to be a happily married couple right now, because there is no food in this cottage."

Demyx’s face fell. "You mean we have to go shopping?" she whined.

"Yes, we do."

"But the women are gonna be all gossipy and are gonna try to get me to do… woman things."

"Then you’ll just have to grin and bear it."

--

Of course, they didn’t account for the poor provincial town to also be a bustling hive of gossip. They skirted a boorish man in leather breeches proclaiming that he, Claude, was the best, strongest, fastest and smartest man in the village, and that his unborn son, Gaston, would be just as amazing.

They stopped at the baker’s, and got several baguettes, and at the butcher’s and the grocer’s as well. They passed a bookseller and Zexion gave the shop front a longing stare, but due to a shortage of munny and Demyx’s insistence that they plow through their shopping excursion as quickly as possible prevented him from entering.

"So, where to next?" Demyx sighed, adjusting her grip on their bags.

"Mmm . . . . well . . . . " Zexion fumbled for the paper list of things to do. He was fairly certain that they'd finished their chores for the day, but just in case . . . .

"Lost your way?" another voice broke in. As the two Nobodies turned toward the source, a young woman sauntered towards them with a small smile.

"And you would be?" Zexion asked in tones of mild curiosity. Red hair, green eyes - really, she could have passed for a distant relative of Axel's.

"I'm Axelle, dears. Do remember it." She smiled enticingly at him.

It took a great amount of restraint on Zexion’s part to not let his jaw hit the ground. Demyx, on the other hand, had no such qualms, and her mouth hung wide open.

"Careful," Axelle purred. "Bugs might fly in." Demyx snapped her mouth shut. Axelle looked the two up and down. "So I take it you two aren’t from around these parts?"

Zexion composed himself and replied, "No, we’re travelers, but we have decided to move here as we have been recently married."

Axelle nodded. "Well, that’s fine. Listen, if you ever need anything, you be sure and come to talk to me, mmkay?" She winked at the two and sauntered away.

They stood there dumbly for a moment until Demyx turned to Zexion and spluttered, "Okay, that was one of the most surreal and downright freaky things I have ever seen. Was that a female version of Axel or are my eyes playing tricks on me?"

"No, your eyes are not playing tricks on you. I agree with you – that was surreal and downright 'freaky'."

"I wonder if his other is from around here," Demyx mused.

"If that is the case, then he has either not been born yet, or is a toddler."

Demyx made a face. "I bet Axel was a holy terror as a kid."

"I'm inclined to agree," Zexion replied distantly, still staring after the Axel-twin.

After a few moments of silence, Demyx nudged him gently. "So. Um. Zexion. Where to next?"

"Oh, right." Zexion turned his attention back to the current moment, pulling a slip of paper from his pocket after a few minutes of fumbling awkwardly for it. "Ah, as I thought. We're done for today."

"Really? We can go home now?" Zexion nodded; Demyx's face broke into a huge grin, and she threw her head back with an exultant laugh. "Yes! Finally, I can get out of these damn clothes!"

"Ah. Demyx," Zexion said quietly, staring at the ground.

"Mm?"

"While it is assumed that, as a married couple, we do indeed have a sex life, implying so much in public is generally frowned upon."

Demyx paused. "Wait, wh- oh. Ohhhhh." She went very red.

Zexion sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Why did I have to be stuck with this imbecile? Why?"

--

"Yes, who -" Zexion paused as he opened the door. "Ah, Maurice. Was there something you wanted?"

The older man smiled apologetically. "I hate to pull you away like this - I know you're getting settled and all - but I was wondering if perhaps you'd help me with a little project of mine? I just need an extra pair of hands, that sort of thing, you know."

"Ah, of course." Zexion smiled, stepping outside and closing the door behind him.

"You're not going to tell Demyx where you're going?"

"Mm? Oh. No, h-she will be fine on her own," Zexion replied, cursing himself internally for still stumbling over the pronoun.

"Still, it might be nice of you to let her know," Maurice said, throwing a doubtful look at Zexion. "She is your wife, after all."

"Your concern is much appreciated, but we're fine," the slate-haired Nobody responded with a cordial smile. They walked on for a few minutes in silence.

At last, Maurice sighed. "You should be happy to have her, Zexion," he said quietly. "Cherish her at every possible moment. We never know how dear those close to us are until they're gone, after all."

"Yes, thank you," Zexion said stiffly. "I believe there was some task you desired my aid in accomplishing?"

Maurice hesitated as they reached his own cottage, then sighed, holding the door open for Zexion. "Yes, in here."

--

Zexion crept back into the cottage quietly after they'd finished. It was late, and he didn't want to think of all the complaining he'd have to put up with if Demyx was sleeping and Zexion woke her up.

Demyx appeared to be sleeping soundly as he stepped into the bedroom. Zexion sighed, tugging off his work clothes and going to put on his bedclothes.

As he gently tugged out the bedcovers on his side of the bed, Demyx shifted and mumbled softly, "You're back?"

Zexion paused. "Did I wake you?"

"Mmm. 's okay. Where were you?"

"Maurice needed help with an experiment of his." Zexion slid under the covers. "Good night, Demyx."

Demyx hesitated, almost as if she were about to say something. Then she sighed, murmuring, "Yeah. G'night, Zexion."

Zexion settled onto the pillow, making himself more comfortable. Already he was almost asleep. "You smell different," he noted tiredly.

"Mmm?" Demyx rolled over to face him, confusion apparent in her sleep-muddled eyes. "What d'you mean?"

"From before. Didn't notice it till now," Zexion murmured, closing his eyes.

Silence. Then, "Is that bad?"

But Zexion was already asleep.

Chapitre Fin

End Notes: Axelle is actually a French girl's name. We were doing research for the story, found it, and decided it needed to be in there. Hoping you liked it, and we'll see you next time! ♥

Smile Like You Mean It [072, Happy, Ienzo/Myde]

parametric — Sun, 28 Oct 2007 01:39:14 GMT

Title: Smile Like You Mean It
Author: parametric
Pairing: Ienzo/Myde
Rating: PG
Summary: He doesn't quite understand it. Perhaps there's something wrong with him?
Prompt: 072. Happy
Disclaimer: Not mine, or Ienzo and Myde would have their own damn canon, which would involve quite a lot of loving on each other.

It's strange, this smile. It won't stop. Won't go away. Won't come off his face.

Distantly Myde thinks that perhaps there is something wrong with him. He shouldn't be smiling, shouldn't be running around with his usual energy and more.

But he. He just. Can't. Stop.

"I'm leaving for the castle next week," that was what Ienzo had said. "I can't."

Myde supposes he should have been upset when Ienzo had said that. Should have stormed away in agitation. Should have yelled at Ienzo. Should have done something. And yet, there was nothing to do, and Myde had just smiled and nodded and felt something akin to elation in his breast. That wasn't right, was it?

It's strange. He has even more energy than usual. His steps have a little more bounce to them, his movements are a little more animated. He feels so aware of everything, almost reveling in existence. And he can't stop smiling.

Something isn't quite right. Can't be, right?

It's scaring him, how happy he is. And yet. And yet, he . . . .

"Are you crying?" Lae had asked him at one point, and Myde had paused to realize (much to his chagrin) that he was. A few moments and it had passed. He didn't feel any different, still smiling, still so happy, each of the times that it happened throughout the day. Each burst of tears for a single moment. It was weird, really weird.

He doesn't stop smiling. He feels good, amazing even. He's really happy for Ienzo. It's a good thing.

And if things feel strange, off. If perhaps there's an unconscious part of him that mourns the loss. If he maybe wishes, just a little, that things could have been different. Well. Well, it didn't matter, right?

Of course not.

He never needed it to.

Myde goes home with that same smile and sleeps, and does not dream.

Always [066, Loyalty, Ienzo/Myde]

parametric — Tue, 23 Oct 2007 04:32:26 GMT

Title: Always
Author: parametric
Pairing: Ienzo/Myde
Rating: PG
Summary: No matter what, I will always . . . . [for dualshine]
Prompt: 066. Loyalty
Disclaimer: Not mine, or Ienzo and Myde would have their own damn canon, which would involve quite a lot of loving on each other.
Notes: Yeah. I cope with stuff by writing and it's been killing me not to, hence I decided that I'd give up and cope already, dammit. SO SUE ME. And it's all dialogue, which is a device I've wanted to use for a while - GO ME! This is being crossposted everywhere and its mother and back, even to FFN. Why? Simply because, though I normally don't really crosspost drabbles, and though my best work it may not be, it's one of the most heartfelt I've ever undertaken, if not THE most heartfelt. Enjoy, lovelies. Written for kingdom100.

Always

"Hello."

"Oh ..... hey."

"So....."

".....Yeah?"

"You do realize the whole school is nearly ablaze with the news?"

"Hah, yeah. I know. Takes about five minutes for the latest gossip to get from one end of the school to the other, so yeah."

".....Why did you say it?"

"Because it was true."

"But why now? Why ..... ?"

"Well ..... I mean, I didn't want you going away without me ever telling you. Yanno?"

"It's not like it'll make a difference....."

"Oh, I know that. But I've never liked secrets very much, keeping this one wouldn't have sat well with me."

"But, I mean....."

"Mmm?"

"You know I can't return it, Myde."

"Oh, I know that. Sure. It was only the smallest hope that you would, anyway. I mean, c'mon, everyone knows your One True Love is your test tube."

".....That's Even."

"So? Great minds think alike, right? And you six are the greatest minds in all of Radiant Garden. Therefore I rest my case."

".....No, you've got it all wrong. Anyone with half a brain knows that my books are my only love."

"See? There's the old Ienzo I know. And that practic'ly nobody else does, but that's not the point. Awkwardness is for pansies. And girls. Which are not one and the same, unless you really want Relena to castrate you that much."

"Really, you're taking this rather well."

"Well, yeah. Kinda have to. I mean, how awkward d'you think it was when I figured it out?"

"So ..... are you saying you're over it?"

"Oh, no. I won't ever be, I think. But I'm fine with it being just me. I mean, I'm not the type to expect that sorta thing. Yanno? It's enough for me as is."

"....."

"But hey, just so you know. You ever need me, I'll be here ..... 'kay? I'll always be here."

"....."

".....Stop staring at me like that. And just so you know, if you ever tell anyone I said anything that cheesy I am going to kick your ass so hard you won't know right from left."

".....Sure, sure."

"Aw, see, you're smiling now. That's better."

"You're sure? I mean -"

"Yeah, I am."

"Myde -"

"You have somewhere to be, don't you, Ienzo?"

"....."

"....."

"All right. So, then, this is goodbye."

"Yeah. Think of me when you're rich and famous and hero-worshipped and all those things, 'kay?"

"I suppose so....."

"Now go on, get outta here."

".....Goodbye, Myde."

"'Bye, Ienzo."

Ienzo never saw Myde again.

flail I WANNA DO MEMES ALL OF A SUDDEN

parametric — Mon, 01 Oct 2007 19:18:11 GMT

Stolen from bouncy_erbear!

Post and tell me anonymously:

1. One secret.
2. One compliment.
3. One non-compliment.
4. One love note.
5. Lyrics to a song.
6. How old you are.
7. How long we've been friends.
8. And a hint to who you are.

Doorways - Erased [3/?]

parametric — Mon, 24 Sep 2007 07:16:36 GMT

Title: Doorways Part 3/? - Erased
Author: parametric
Pairing: Ienzo/Myde
Rating: PG
Summary: Line the pieces up.
Prompt: 027. Fear

Doorways
Part 3 - Erased

Ienzo. Ienzo. Ienzo.

He repeated his name to himself again and again as he stumbled through the door and back into the strange place he'd awoken in first. He was Ienzo. He couldn't forget that. Why hadn't he known before? Why hadn't he remembered?

Why couldn't he remember anything?

It hadn't occurred to Ienzo to panic before he'd known his name. He hadn't been aware that there was anything wrong with him. That maybe he was missing something.

Dear gods, if he'd forgotten his own name, what else had he forgotten? He couldn't remember anything, it was all gone. He hadn't been aware there was supposed to be something there in the first place. He scrambled to his feet and began to walk, then to run.

He had forgotten his own name.

Not only that, but he'd forgotten it so completely that he'd been sure he'd never had one! How was that possible? How was that right?

How much of him had been erased?

What if he forgot again?

He couldn't do this. Couldn't couldn't could not -

Ienzo stumbled. Fell. The ground didn't scrape as it jarred against his skin.

Something was digging into his palm. He looked down, held it up. The pendant. Myde had given it to him.

The thought of the blond calmed him a bit. Myde seemed familiar, somehow. Now that he had his name back. Felt like they knew each other, somehow.

"To remember me by," Myde had said when he gave Ienzo the pendant.

Remember. Yes. He wouldn't forget Myde, not with this to remind him. And as long as he remembered Myde he'd remember himself. Ienzo relaxed, letting out a small sigh.

Now then, where was he?

Ienzo glanced around, taking stock of his surroundings. None of these doors looked familiar . . . . then again, in this strange place, that wasn't saying very much. Who knew what else lurked behind them?

On the other hand, it had been venturing into one of the door-worlds that had gotten his name back, so perhaps it was a risk he had to take. Anything to remember who he was again. The emptiness was unnerving.

Ienzo hung the necklace around his neck and strode towards the nearest door. White, with embossed silver patterns on it. Looked safe enough. He reached for the knob, opened the door, walked in -

- and gave off a surprised shout as he suddenly found himself falling. Whatever he'd expected, it certainly hadn't been that.

Something light and fluffy broke his fall face-first, shifting to accommodate his weight. Ienzo silently thanked whatever higher power happened to be listening as he panted, slowly regaining his breath and composure. Finally he rolled over onto his back, gulping in the fresh air gratefully.

He was greeted by the sight of a rather familiar face, and instantly sat up, staring at the other incredulously. "Myde?"

The other boy blinked, a rather quizzical expression on his face. "Yes, that's me."

Ienzo stumbled up, still a bit wobbly from the shock of a near-death experience. "But what are you doing here? I thought you were -"

"Um, 'scuse me," Myde cut him off, "but who are you and why do you know my name?"

It was Ienzo's turn for confused expressions. "But . . . . Myde, don't you remember? It's me, Ienzo . . . ."

"Well . . . ." Myde smiled brightly. "No, can't say that I do. It's nice to meet you, though, Ienzo! So, what're you doing here, anyway?"

"But . . . . you . . . ." Ienzo's brain wasn't handling this too well, it seemed. Myde didn't remember him. The one person he knew . . . .

"Say," Myde said with a worried expression, "I really do hope you're not a demon. They're not all that welcome around here."

Ienzo fainted.

Doorways - Nameless [2/?]

parametric — Mon, 24 Sep 2007 04:13:40 GMT

Title: Doorways Part 2/? - Nameless
Author: parametric
Pairing: Ienzo/Myde
Rating: PG
Summary: Line the pieces up.
Prompt: 043. Memory

Doorways
Part 2 - Nameless

His eyes opened slowly, and he didn't know where he was.

Slowly the boy sat up, looking around curiously. This was a strange place, with the fog and all those doors . . . . how had he gotten here?

Slowly he rose onto his feet, wobbling slightly. He felt dizzy. Empty, strange as that might sound. Like something was missing. What -?

So many doors. He had to wonder what they were doing there. It didn't look as though anything was behind them, after all. So he stumbled over to one, reaching for the doorknob tentatively and swinging it open.

It didn't look like there was anything on the other side, and the boy was just a little disappointed and perplexed. That is, until he stepped through it and found himself somewhere entirely new. Grass, and trees! A gentle breeze, a burbling stream, a sunny day! The boy couldn't help but stare around in wonderment.

Of course, the dozen or so spears that were immediately leveled at him rather ruined the novelty of it. The boy held up his hands, gulping slightly. "Can I . . . . help you?" he said slowly, the words rolling over his tongue with a touch of unfamiliarity.

"Demon! State your name and business here!" a man called imperiously from behind the soldiers menacing him.

The boy blinked. A name? And what were they calling him? "I hadn't any business -" he started.

"You cannot fool us with your clever words, demon!" the strange man cut him off, one hand cutting through the air. "Only evil comes from the door that joins the worlds of shadow and light! Now, tell us your name and what vile purpose you have come for!"

"But I haven't got a purpose -" the boy protested.

"Perhaps I should rephrase it in terms your loathsome mind will understand: tell us, or you will die," the man hissed.

The boy gulped. What was he supposed to do? Whatever a name was, he didn't have one, and certainly he didn't have a purpose of any sort beyond a mild curiosity. He opened his mouth to attempt to explain -

And was cut off by another boy hurling himself into the left end of the soldiers' formation. "Go on, run! Get out of here!" the newcomer shouted.

The boy hesitated, but his rescuer seemed a bit busy with fighting the soldiers that were now converging on him. He probably couldn't do with any distractions. So, after another moment's hesitation, he turned and ran into the trees, away from the fight.

--

About ten minutes later, as he tripped over what felt like the millionth tree root, he was wondering if this had been such a good idea. He'd probably lost them by now, anyway. With a small sigh, he leaned against the trunk of the nearest tree and slid down, slouching comfortably on the ground, catching his breath.

"I see you made it through all right," a voice remarked cheerfully just when he'd started to get comfortable.

The boy started in surprise, looking around in a panic. "Y-you!" he cried.

The boy who'd rescued him before grinned, plopping down beside him. "Me! Surprised to see me? I gave those guys the slip as soon as I could once I saw you'd escaped. You okay?"

The boy nodded slowly. "Yes . . . . thank you."

"Hey, no problem. Just because The Leaders think everything from the outside is evil doesn't mean that we all do." The other boy settled back a bit more against the tree with a contented sigh. "So then, mister demon, what brings you to this fair land?"

"I just came here by accident - I walked through a door and found myself here," the boy protested. "And whatever a demon is, I most certainly am not one. Stop calling me that."

The stranger grinned at him lazily. "What should I call you, then? You got a name?"

"..." The boy was silent at this.

"I just saved your life and you won't even tell me your name?" the stranger asked in tones of incredulity. "Well, there's gratitude for you."

"I don't have a name," the boy protested. "Anyway, I don't see what's so special about one. Why don't you tell me yours, if it's so important?"

The stranger opened his mouth, then stopped. His lips spread in a mischievous grin. "Tell you what. You help me with a little something in return for saving you, and I'll tell you my name. As an added bonus, I'll take you to another door, one The Leaders don't know about, so you can get outta here - after all, this isn't a place for demons."

"I told you," the boy said heatedly, "I am not -"

"-a demon, yeah, I know. But that's what everyone's going to see you as." The stranger tugged on one of the boy's lavender locks; he yelped and pulled away. "You're obviously not from around here. How long d'you think it'll be before somebody notices and turns you in? Just help me out, and I'll help you out in return. You can think of it as payback for saving you back there, if you like."

The boy eyed him suspiciously. "What exactly do you want me to do?"

The stranger shrugged. "Oh, not much. Just help me recover a little something that was taken from me."

"And this 'something' would be . . . . ?" the boy asked skeptically.

--

"I cannot believe you are making me go to all this trouble for a stupid necklace," the boy hissed.

A look of mock offense came over his companion's features. "Not just any necklace, Demon Boy. My necklace. My special necklace. It's very important."

"Yeah, whatever," the boy muttered grumpily. He didn't bother correcting the nickname. The stranger had reasoned that he needed something to call him by, at least. The boy had replied that if that was the case, he'd be calling the stranger the Blond Bastard the whole time. Of course, the stranger just had to be his infuriating self and reply that that was absolutely fine with him. Bastard.

"It shouldn't be too hard to find once you're in there," the aforementioned bastard was saying. "It's just getting in there that's the hard part."

"Wonderful," the boy muttered. "What's so special about this necklace, anyway?"

The stranger frowned slightly. "It just is, okay? Are you gonna help me or not?"

"What part of this is 'helping'? I'm the one doing all the work. I scoped out the whole place for the past few days, memorized the damn building plans, all that. Don't see you sticking your neck out," the boy replied. It wasn't like he had much of a choice but to help if he wanted to get out of here, anyway.

"Aww, c'mon," the blond pleaded. "It shouldn't be too hard, right? I'm no good for stuff like this, and besides, they'd recognize me instantly. I've gotten a bit of a reputation as a troublemaker. At least you have a chance of getting in!"

"Sure, sure," the boy sighed, standing a little straighter and pulling his cloak and hood around him a little more securely. "I'll get your damn jewelry. Wish me luck," he added sarcastically, stepping out into the alleyway.

--

The Blond Bastard looked up almost apprehensively as the boy burst into his little hideout, panting heavily. "Got . . . . the damn . . . . necklace," he managed between gasps. "You so owe me for this one."

The other boy nodded, getting to his feet quickly. "We'd better go."

The boy blinked. "But don't you want -"

"No time! You've been noticed, they'll be here any minute." The blond grabbed the boy's arm, pulling him back out insistently. "I'll get it later."

The boy hesitated, but nodded, following the stranger obediently. If it got him out of here quicker, he wasn't going to complain.

After about ten minutes, he'd given up even trying to keep track of all the twists and turns his companion was making and had taken to simply trailing along behind him, ignoring his aching feet. The stranger seemed to be near-panicked, if his movements were any indication, and the boy couldn't help but be a little surprised that he was so worried for him. Or was he worried for his own skin? Either way, if it got him out of this strange, unfriendly place, the boy wasn't inclined to question the stranger's motives.

Still, it was a little nice to think that at least someone cared the tiniest bit.

"Where are we going?" he finally asked some time later, when they'd left the city and were tramping through the wilderness.

"Almost there," the stranger replied, pausing and turning with a reassuring smile on his lips. "Don't worry, I'll get you out of here. Just a little longer. Okay?"

The boy blinked. "O . . . . kay . . . ." he said slowly. "Are you -"

"C'mon, let's get moving! Not much longer," the stranger cut in, grabbing his hand again and pulling him along.

The boy sighed, following along again. If the Blond Bastard said "not much longer" one more time, he reflected idly, he'd proceed to visit the most horrible torture imaginable on him by way of -

"Here we are!" Seemingly unaware of the boy's malicious thoughts toward his person, the stranger had pulled him into a grove whose tree trunks framed a small depression in the earth. In the center stood a door, standing on its own as the one that had brought the boy here had been; this one was rather more simple, crude, with rough designs etched into its surface.

The stranger pushed him forward. "Go on."

The boy turned back to him, confused, holding out the necklace he'd had to get. The blue crystal pendant caught the faint light filtering through the trees, shimmering softly. "Didn't you . . . . want this?"

The stranger hesitated, looking at the pendant. Finally he said, "Nah, keep it. A little something to remember me by." Gently he took hold of the boy's shoulders and turned him around, murmuring in his ear, "I'm Myde. I'm sure we'll meet again."

The boy hesitated, then smiled. "Ienzo. My name's Ienzo," he remembered. He turned to his companion with a laugh. "You know, until now I -"

Myde was gone.

Doorways - Dreamscape [1/?]

parametric — Fri, 21 Sep 2007 01:51:05 GMT

Title: Doorways Part 1/? - Dreamscape
Author: parametric
Pairing: Ienzo/Myde
Rating: PG
Summary: Line the pieces up.
Prompt: 064. Doors

A/N: My brain is officially insane. I was looking over the kingdom100 prompts just to see if I'd get hit with inspiration, and lo and behold, my gaze falls on "doors" and I'm handed a chapter fic. Dammit, that is not supposed to happen! Actually, not just one, but two - one Ienzo/Myde, one for an original fic. The ideas are going to be somewhat similar, but not overly so, so yeah. I don't have any idea how long this fic is going to be, really, or much of what's going to happen. However, hopefully every part will be written from a kingdom100 prompt. That, or I'm going to hurt something. Badly. Which isn't to say all 100 prompts will be in this story arc, no. Just a lot of them.

Anyway, this fic isn't going to be posted anywhere besides my journal and kingdom100, and possibly methodofharmony, is what I'm thinking right now. I might decide otherwise later, but for now that's how it's looking. It's kind of experimental anyway, so yeah. Anyway, sorry for the long-ass explanation, and please enjoy! ♥

Doorways
Part 1 - Dreamscape

How does a story begin? When does it truly exist? Is it when pen is put to paper and begins to take an account, or when an idea forms in the mind of a creative soul, or when an event comes to fruition and leads down a certain path of even more events still? Or is it all these things and more?

An impossible question; but, for the sake of simplicity, one may say that this story began with Ienzo. It could have actually begun much earlier, or much later, or not at all; but Ienzo is the point to examine at the moment.

At the moment, it was a safe bet to say that Ienzo was quite confused. Not to mention rather hopelessly lost.

He had no idea how he'd ended up in this place, or even what it was. He could hardly even see where he was going, with the darkness and strange fog. Odd, that; there was so much mist and fog around, yet he wasn't cold. It wasn't natural. The scientist in him rebelled against the obvious impossibility of it all.

Then, of course, there was the matter of the doors. The doors that put the strange fog to shame in their oddity.

They were everywhere. Wherever Ienzo looked, a door was there to greet him. That was odd enough, but relatively explainable - perhaps whoever had made this place had needed a lot of rooms for some reason - if not for the fact that there seemed to be no walls. Doors of all shapes, sizes, styles and colors, and no walls to separate them? Where was the sense in that?

Ienzo was quite perplexed, in case it wasn't obvious.

He'd been wandering for a while now, trying to find an exit or, failing that, at least how he'd gotten here in the first place, but all he saw were doors upon doors upon multitudes of doors. After almost an hour of nothing but doors, he could say with relative certainty that he did not want to see another door for quite a while after he'd gotten back. Of course, the trick itself was getting back, but the thought that he might not was one that Ienzo certainly did not want to confront right now.

Another hour, and Ienzo was forced to seriously consider that possibility. Or at least - and his rational self cringed to think it - the possibility of opening one of the strange free-standing doors littering the place. Not an idea he was particularly fond of, to be sure. Though the dominant part of his personality assured him vehemently that there was nothing on the other side except the empty space he saw, another part of him was babbling on near-hysterically abut how he didn't know what was lurking behind them, and how very much could go wrong should he open the wrong one.

This was ridiculous, he thought to himself. Anyway, it couldn't hurt to try, could it? Besides, if the completely impossible and utterly irrational thought that there would be something behind the doors was right, well, he didn't have to go in. So Ienzo glanced around, trying to decide which door to open first. At last his gaze settled on a light blue door, the material seeming to shimmer just a little in the faint glow permeating this place. He stepped forward, reached for the handle, took a deep breath - for no reason at all, his logic insisted. His nerves tingled as he slowly swung the door open.

Nothing.

Ienzo took a breath that was certainly not of relief - see, he'd been right after all - and, just to make sure, stuck his head through the doorway, taking a small step in.

Instantly the setting changed. Ienzo gasped softly as he found himself in a new room, this one with proper walls. It was dimly lit in a blue color that rippled, almost as if the room were underwater. There was almost nothing in here, though - a chair, a table, a small bed.

And the boy.

He was splayed out upon the bed asleep, chest rising and falling gently. Golden, messy hair, a light tan, strange robes, a lithe form. He didn't look that menacing . . . . but then, you could never be too careful. If he'd been awake, Ienzo might have taken the opportunity to ask him about this place, but as it was he wouldn't take his chances. The young scientist turned to leave.

"Wait."

Ienzo jerked in surprise, turning back to the boy, who was slowly sitting up, staring at him with wide ocean eyes. Well. How was that for a coincidence?

"Please don't go," that soft voice spoke up again. "How did you get here?"

Ienzo paused. "I'm not . . . . exactly sure," he admitted, "but as for how I arrived here specifically, I came through the door, of course." He gestured to the door behind him as proof.

The boy's eyes widened. "Really? You did?"

Ienzo nodded. "How else would I have come here? Say," he added, almost hopefully, as he turned to the other boy and let the door swing shut behind him, "would you happen to know how I can leave this place? I'm trying to find the way out, and I thought perhaps you might help me."

The blond hesitated, then shook his head. "I can't. Sorry. I've been stuck here for a while now . . . ."

"What, you mean this place?" Ienzo asked incredulously, gesturing to indicate the world of doors outside.

"No, this room," the boy replied, slumping over and resting his elbows on his knees. "I'm Myde," he added, sounding as though it were almost an afterthought.

Ienzo blinked. Oh. Oh, that was just great. Yeah. Stuck in a small room with some random person for the rest of eternity? Not the most appealing idea in the world, no. "Well, it's nice to meet you, and not that I don't sympathize, but I really should be going," he said slowly, edging toward the door.

The boy - Myde - stood quickly, a look of worry on his features as he moved towards Ienzo. "No, don't," he said, a desperate tinge in his voice. "It might not be a good idea . . . ."

"I'm sorry, truly I am, but I really must leave," Ienzo stammered uncomfortably, pressing his back against the door as he fumbled for the handle. The boy was getting too close, far too close. Oh, gods, what if he'd gotten stuck here already?

Myde came closer, so close. His body was nearly flush with Ienzo's now. "Please don't leave me alone again," he murmured in Ienzo's ear; the young scientist shivered slightly. "You're beautiful, did you know?" His hands ghosted up Ienzo's sides almost reverently. "I don't think I've ever seen anything like you . . . ."

Ienzo's hand finally found the door handle, and almost desperately he turned it and flung it open behind him; there was a startled cry from Myde, and then everything went dark.

Kind of Awkward

parametric — Mon, 17 Sep 2007 06:49:31 GMT

Title: Kind of Awkward
Authors: parametric, reeology
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.

Flutter

parametric — Fri, 07 Sep 2007 06:29:26 GMT

Title: Flutter
Author: parametric
Pairing: Zexion/Demyx
Rating: PG
Summary: A brush of wings on a soft palm, a brush of lips on a soft cheek. That was all they ever had to give.

Flutter

"It'll be nice, Zexion," his mother had told him. "You'll get to meet other kids, play with them. You'll have a great time."

Personally, Zexion doubted that day care was going to be that fun. Besides, he liked being left alone. Other kids would just be annoying and interrupt him when he was trying to read. Still, his mother was very busy, and he knew it was unavoidable, so he might as well accept it.

That didn't mean he had to like it.

The people who worked at the day care - "counselors", they were called, but preferred to be known on a first-name basis - had been trying to get him out of his shell and socializing with the other children, with little success. They'd been able to put him outside on the school field and playground, but he just sat in some corner with his book. Try to take the book away and he would pitch an unholy fit until he got it back. Nothing would get him to play with the other children.

Today they hadn't even bothered to make him go outside. Zexion liked that; it was nice and quiet in the building with all the other kids off playing, and it was cool and there weren't any insects to bother him. Perfect for reading.

At least it was until another boy gamboled in, laughing brightly as he stumbled over to the nurse awkwardly. Zexion looked up with a pout; The Hobbit had just been starting to get good.

The nurse saw the boy and let out a frustrated sigh. "Again, Demyx?"

"Yep!" the boy replied brightly, sitting down in the chair across from her.

"You've got to be more careful," she scolded, getting out a pair of big bandages, cotton swabs, and rubbing alcohol. Zexion noticed for the first time that both of the boy's knees were badly skinned, bright red welling up in the scrapes.

"'M sorry, Kairi - ouch!" the boy yelped as she started cleaning the wounds with the alcohol.

She huffed slightly, finishing up and pasting the large band-aid on. "Every day you do this, Demyx. You're a walking disaster, I swear. Go on, go play."

"Thank you, Kairi!" The boy hopped off the seat and made for the door. Then he noticed Zexion, stopped, and walked over to him.

Zexion buried his nose in his book, attempting to ignore the boy so he'd go away. Apparently it didn't work, because that bright voice said, "Hello! I'm Demyx! What's your name?"

"That's Zexion, honey," Kairi called. "I think he's trying to read, why don't you leave him alone and go play?"

Demyx made a face. "Reading? That's boring."

Zexion's head snapped up with a scowl. "It is not," he growled. "Better'n rotting your brain with stupid TV."

"Boys, settle down," Kairi warned.

Demyx shrugged. "I don't watch TV much. Mama says it's bad for you."

"Well . . . . good," Zexion huffed, bringing up the book to his face again.

Ocean eyes peeked over the top of the book. "You sure you don't wanna come out to play? It's a reeeeaaaaaally nice day."

"Positive," Zexion replied.

Demyx pouted, then shrugged. "Okay, then. I'll see you later, Zexy!" he laughed, bounding out the door.

Zexion didn't answer, focusing on his book as much as he could instead. A few minutes later, when he was sure nobody could hear, he muttered, "It's Zexion."

-That night, Zexion's mother asked him if anything new had happened at day care. Zexion told her no, it had been just another boring day.-

"Hey, Zexy!"

Zexion looked up from his book with a small frown, opening his mouth to refute the nickname, and was greeted by the sight of the same boy from a few days ago. "What d'you want?"

"You are Zexion, right?" Demyx grinned. "Sorry, my memory's all bad. I got it right, then?"

"No," Zexion muttered resentfully. "My name's Zexion. Not Zexy."

Demyx pouted. "Well sorry, Princess Zexion."

"Don't call me princess," Zexion growled. "And you didn't answer my question."

"Question?" Demyx cocked his head to the side, looking utterly confused. "What question?"

"What. Do. You. Want?" Zexion gritted out.

Demyx smiled, understanding dawning in his expression. "Oh, right! I wanted to ask if you'd like to come play."

"No."

"Why nooooot?" Demyx whined.

"Because I don't wanna."

"But you're out here today!"

"Only 'cause they made me."

Demyx sighed, a small pout on his lips."You're no fun at all," he muttered. Then he brightened again with a small shrug. "Well, if you wanna play later, then we can do that! See ya - Princess Zexion!"

Zexion stuttered after him in rage, but Demyx was already gone, laughing and gamboling across the weedy grass field. Zexion watched him for a while, running and cartwheeling and bright, so bright, so alive.

He looked back down to his book and kept reading.

-That night, Zexion offhandedly mentioned the boy from day care when his mother asked him how his day had been. He assured her quickly that he was a complete weirdo and not worth hanging out with.-

"What're you doing now, Demyx?"

"Shhh, I'm -" Demyx suddenly sat back on his haunches with a mournful expression. "Shoot! He got away. Now look what you did, Zexy."

Zexion blinked. He'd stopped correcting the nickname a while ago. Better than getting called "Princess Zexion". "What exactly did I do?"

"You scared him off," Demyx muttered resentfully, pouting as he scrambled over to where Zexion was sitting with his ever-present book.

Zexion looked up at Demyx, closing the book. "Who's 'he'?"

"A skipper," Demyx responded, as if that should explain everything.

Zexion sighed. He'd come to accept Demyx in the past few weeks - certainly nothing seemed to shake him off for long, so trying didn't do much good - but sometimes he could be . . . . trying. "What's a skipper?"

Demyx stared at him incredulously. "You don't know what a skipper is?"

"No," Zexion muttered sullenly.

"I thought you were supposed to be smart, Zexy!" Demyx crowed triumphantly.

Zexion huffed. "Sure, just 'cause I don't know your stupid names for things . . . ."

Demyx opened his mouth, then stopped. "Aw, don't be mad, Zexy . . . ." he murmured after a few moments. "'M sorry. I just thought it was kinda funny, that's all. Skippers are those little mini butterflies, you know, the ones we see all the time here."

Zexion folded his arms and looked away, pouting.

Demyx let out a little whine and scooted closer, resting his head on Zexion's lap. "I'm sorry, Zexy. I didn't mean it. Please don't be mad . . . ."

Zexion was silent for a moment. Then he muttered, "Doesn't matter to me, I don't care anyway." His hands tangled gently in the other boy's soft blond locks, and a faint blush covered his cheeks as he looked pointedly away from Demyx.

-That night, Zexion told his mother about the butterflies called skippers that he'd learned about today. They were boring anyway, he added, but at least he'd learned something new.-

"Mm! This is really good!"

Zexion flushed slightly, ducking his head a little. "It's not much," he muttered.

Demyx smiled. "Aw, but it really is, Zexy. And it's really nice that you shared your lunch with me today, just 'cause I forgot mine."

Zexion shrugged. "Don't mention it." Sure, he'd given up the last of his mom's homemade brownies, but the look on Demyx's face had been worth it. So worth it.

Demyx was quiet for a moment. Then he murmured, "You're my best friend. You know that, right?"

Zexion blinked. He hadn't, actually . . . . sure, Demyx seemed to like him a lot, but Demyx liked everyone. He didn't know that Demyx thought he was anything special.

"Zexy?" Demyx asked nervously. Zexion realized he hadn't said anything.

"Yeah . . . . yeah." He smiled. "You're my best friend, too."

Demyx grinned brightly, the last brownie left forgotten on his plate as he tackled Zexion in an enthusiastic hug.

"Dem - Demyx - gerroff!" Zexion choked out, shoving Demyx off of him.

Demyx pouted. "But we're best friends! Right?"

Zexion sighed, then promptly changed the subject.

-That night, Zexion asked his mother to teach him how to cook. When she asked him why, Zexion looked away and muttered something about lunchtime with a blush on his cheeks.-

"I don't see what's so good about those stupid butterflies," Zexion muttered.

"Huh?" Demyx looked away from the exploits the other children were getting into at the moment. "What d'you mean?"

"They're just insects," Zexion grumbled. "But every day, everybody's always out trying to catch them. I mean, that's just stupid."

"It is not!" Demyx protested. "It's a lot of fun!"

"Uh-huh," Zexion replied in tones of disbelief. "Running around after a bunch of girly butterflies is fun."

Demyx's mouth set itself into a stubborn pout. "C'mon, Zex. Have you ever tried it?"

Zexion snorted derisively. "No."

"Then of course you don't get it!" Demyx crowed truimphantly. "You gotta know what it's like first!"

"Nuh-uh. I'm not wasting my time." Zexion folded his arms.

"C'mon, Zexy! Pleeease?"

"No."

Demyx huffed. "Fine, I get it. You're just a scaredy-cat."

"What?" Zexion snapped. "Why am I being a scaredy-cat?"

"You're just scared that you'll suck at it." Demyx stuck his tongue out.

"Nuh-uh!"

"Then prove it!"

"....Fine!" Zexion slammed his book onto the seat and jumped up, stomping over to the school field, Demyx drifting along behind him and grinning to himself.

Pause. Glance. "Um. How do I do it?"

Demyx smiled. "Not too hard. C'mon, I'll show you . . . . let's go get an arts and crafts bin. And some construction paper, too."

-That night, Zexion babbled proudly to his mother about how he'd learned to catch the little butterflies in his school field. She smiled indulgently and listened, glad to see her baby boy so happy.-

"No, no, don't eat it like that!"

Zexion paused from where he was about to take a bite out of his Oreo. "Why not?"

"Be-cause." Demyx scooted over, another Oreo in hand. "You have to do it like this." He took one side of the cookie in each hand, twisting slightly and pulling them apart carefully.

Zexion blinked. "Why do I hve to do it like that?"

"Because. Look at this." Demyx held out the two halves of the cookie for inspection. "See how most of the cream's on one side? If you get all of it on one side, it means good luck! You can make a wish!"

".....Really?" Zexion looked down to his still-uneaten Oreo. A wish . . . .

"Go on, try it!" Demyx said eagerly.

Zexion frowned over at his friend, then looked down at his Oreo again. He took a deep breath and started pulling the two halves apart.

"Did you get it?" Demyx piped up beside him.

"N-no . . . ." Zexion showed the blond the halves of his Oreo, one with most of the cream on it, the other with just a little bit.

"Aww. Well, maybe next time you will!" Demyx told him blithely, starting to lick at the cream on his own cookie.

Zexion looked down again and started eating his own cookie. And, because it couldn't hurt, he made a wish anyway.

I wish we could be best friends forever.

"So, Zexy," Demyx said.

"Huh?" Zexion perked up as he finished his Oreo.

"You wanna try catching a fiery skipper today?"

"What d'you mean?"

"You've been catching fairy skippers, those're the blue ones with white spots. They're really easy. Fiery skippers, those orange-brown ones, are much harder . . . ."

-That night, Zexion told his mother about the different kinds of skippers in his school field with a smile. When she asked where he'd learned all that, he replied "From my friend . . . . Demyx."-

Zexion tensed. Waited. Slowly, ever so carefully, he crawled forward, jar in one hand, paper in the other, and -

"You still catch 'em with jars?" someone declared behind him in tones of derision.

Zexion jumped, the jar slipping from his grip and landing in the grass with a soft thud. Immediately the fiery skipper took off, flitting away; and he'd been so close, too. Zexion slumped dejectedly, then glared over at the one who'd spoken. "What d'you want, Axel?"

The redhead shrugged, grinning. "Just think it's funny that you're such an amateur you have to use jars."

"What, you don't?" Zexion demanded irritably.

Axel's grin widened. "Nope! I catch 'em with my hands. 'Cause I'm not a loser," he added.

Zexion gritted his teeth. "I'm not a -"

"Axel, stop being mean," Demyx's voice broke in. "Zexy's my friend."

"Someone cool like you shouldn't hang out with someone lame like him," Axel replied, turning to the other boy.

"Zexy isn't lame," Demyx huffed. "He's a lot cooler'n you, you . . . . dumb-butt!"

"He is not," Axel protested, ignoring Zexion's quietly triumphant smirk at Demyx's statement. He folded his arms with a pout. "Well, fine. You're both losers. And I don't hang out with losers." And with that, he turned and stomped off.

Demyx turned to Zexion, smiling. "'m sorry about Axel . . . . he's really cool when you get to know him."

Zexion pouted, looking away. "He's always picking on me," he muttered. Then he looked back at Demyx with a blink. "What're you holding?"

"Hm?" Demyx followed Zexion's gaze down to where his hands were loosely clasped together. "Ohh! Right! Here, I'll show you." He carefully opened his hands, revealing a fairy skipper.

As Zexion watched, it fluttered its wings uncertainly, then took off. He followed its flight with his eyes for a moment, then looked back at Demyx in amazement. "You can catch them with your bare hands, too?"

"Of course! I taught Axel everything he knows." Demyx grinned. "Someday, I'll even catch a fiery skipper like that . . . . no one's been able to yet."

Zexion slumped dejectedly for a moment. Then he looked back up at Demyx. "Dem?"

"Hm?"

"Teach me how to do that?"

"You sure? It's a lot harder . . . ."

Zexion nodded firmly.

Demyx smiled, grabbing his hand and leading him out to the field. "Well, then, let's go!"

-That night, Zexion proudly told his mother about his best friend, who was so cool that he could catch skippers with his bare hands.-

"Are you okay, Dem?"

"Fine." Tap. Tap. "Why?"

"I dunno, you just seem kinda . . . . down lately." Zexion frowned down into his lap.

Tap. Tap.

Zexion fidgeted. "Dem," he muttered atlast, his cheeks pink with embarrassment. "Can't I try?"

"Maybe later." Tap. Tap.

"I'm bored."

"Mm-hm. That's nice." Tap. Tap.

Zexion chewed on his bottom lip. "You don't . . . . wanna hang out with me?"

Tap. Ta-

Zexion looked up to find his friend staring at him with hurt-filled eyes. "You think I don't wanna hang out with you anymore?"

"I . . . . ah . . . ." Zexion looked away, a light blush dusting his cheeks. "'Course I don't," he muttered. Anything to take that look off his friend's face.

Demyx's Gameboy clattered to the floor, and Zexion vaguely noticed the words GAME OVER flashing on the screen before the blond's arms wrapped around him in a warm hug. "You're my best friend, Zexy," the other boy murmured. "My best friend. 'm sorry. Please don't be mad . . . ."

Zexion's blush deepened, but he finally managed to mumble, "Stop being such a girl, Dem."

The other boy pulled back, grinning. "C'mon, let's go make paper Gameboys!"

"Wh-why?" Zexion asked, bewildered.

"So we can play together, duh!" Demyx replied, as though this should be obvious.

"But Dem -"

"C'mon, Zexy! We're best friends, right?"

Zexion groaned internally. Demyx would have to play that card, wouldn't he . . . . His eyes softened, and he nodded with a smile. "Yeah. We are."

Demyx grinned, poking his nose. "Now who's being a girl?" And he skipped off merrily, ignoring Zexion's indignant splutters behind him.

-That night, Zexion proudly showed off the paper Gameboy he'd made in daycare that day. When his mother asked if that defeated the purpose, he replied "Of course not," and that was that.-

"Zexion, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Aren't you going to go play with Demyx?"

Zexion huffed, turning a page in his book. "He doesn't want to play with me."

Kairi looked concerned, and sat down by Zexion. "Did something happen between the two of you?"

"No," Zexion snapped. "He's just being dumb."

"Zexion. Demyx is your friend, you shouldn't call him things like that," Kairi admonished. Then she sighed. "Maybe he's upset about the move."

"M . . . . move?" Zexion looked over at the counselor, uncomprehending.

"Mm-hmm. He's moving, quite a ways away, I believe . . . . tomorrow's his last day here . . . ." Kairi looked over at Zexion questioningly. "Didn't he tell you?"

Zexion felt like his whole world had just come crashing down around him. His book slipped from his hands, falling to the floor. "N . . . . no . . . . that . . . ." he whispered. "That . . . . stupid . . . ."

He didn't know when he'd gotten up, but suddenly Zexion found himself stoming over to where Demyx was crouched in the well-mown grass of the school field. "You idiot!" he screamed.

The other boy's head jerked up with an expression of shock. "Z-Zexy? What-?"

"You're so stupid!" Zexion yelled. "How dare you go away? I hate you!"

Demyx flinched visibly, his eyes wide, wet. "B-but -"

"Zexion." Both boys looked up to see Riku, one of the other counselors, standing over them. "You shouldn't say things like that. Especially not to your friends . . . . go sit inside and take a time-out."

"I -"

"Now, Zexion." Riku frowned disapprovingly.

Zexion looked down to the grass under his feet, his hands balling into fists. "Fine," he muttered. "Fine. Who needs you, anyway." He turned and ran back inside, forcing back the tears stinging his eyes.

I'm the one who needs you. Please don't leave me. You can't leave me. You're my best friend. I'll die.

A constant litany of pleas and wishes and desperate hopes raced through his mind, and Zexion wasn't sure how long it had been when a voice said timidly, "Zexy?"

Zexion lifted his head from the table, and there was Demyx, waiting just outside the door. His eyes were red and puffy, his shoulders shaking. His hands were clasped loosely together in front of him, and his face was filled with desperation and fear.

Zexion stumbled up, out towards his friend, reaching out for him weakly. "Dem . . . . I . . . ."

Demyx bit his lip, then shoved out his hands into Zexion's, unclasping them quickly and pulling them away. Zexion caught where they'd been, looking up at Demyx uncertainly.

The blond wasn't looking at him. Instead he turned away. "B . . . . bye, Zexy . . . . guess I'll . . . . see you tomorrow." And he raced off to where his mother's car waited.

Zexion stared after him, a thousand different emotions rolling around inside him. A soft flutter tickled his palm; he looked down, opening his hands.

A fiery skipper flapped its wings slowly, uncertainly. It turned, looked at him; Zexion's breath caught. Demyx had always wanted to catch one . . . . and now . . . .

The skipper took off into the air, and Zexion watched it go.

He didn't know what to do.

-That night, when Zexion's mother asked if he'd had fun that day, he replied that he was never having fun again. Then he went to his room and didn't come out for the rest of the night.-

Zexion chewed his lip, throwing another glance at the blond wandering through the school field.

What could he do?

Demyx was leaving. Leaving. He couldn't do anything about that.

What if Demyx forgot about him?

Zexion couldn't bear that thought, so, being Zexion, he started thinking of how to make sure Demyx remembered him. And the best way to do this, he'd decided, was to give Demyx a gift so amazing, so wonderful, that he would never forget Zexion. Not ever.

Of course, this was where Zexion had hit a little snag. What was he supposed to give Demyx? What would be that amazing?

So as the day went on, and Zexion tried to think of what should be Demyx's gift to no avail, he became more and more frantic, so that by the end of the day he was nearly panicking.

And then, the words he'd been dreading: "Demyx! Your parents are here to pick you up, time to go home!"

Zexion's head jerked up at the same time that his friend's did, and as Demyx stood to make his way across the field, a sudden idea struck the slate-haired boy. He started to run full-tilt after his friend. "Dem!"

Demyx turned, confusion and just a trace of hope in his ocean eyes, and then Zexion tumbled into his arms and pressed their lips together desperately, and the world around them froze.

He broke away after a few moments, blushing and scuffing his feet on the ground. "'m sorry, Dem, I . . . . it was the only thing I could think of to give you. Please . . . ." His voice sank to a whisper. "Please don't forget me?"

Demyx was silent for a moment. Zexion looked up at him nervously, and suddenly the blond pulled him into a tight hug. "I won't forget you," he murmured in Zexion's ear. "I promise. Not ever."

"Demyx!" his father called. "Let's go!"

Demyx broke away, his lips brushing Zexion's cheek. "Bye," he murmured. And then he turned, and just like that, Demyx was gone.

-That night, Zexion stopped telling his mother about his days at school.-

"So, for Monday, please read chapters three and four for homework. We'll be discussing them when the next class meets."

Zexion made a careful note of the assignment in his planner and packed up, standing to leave with a sigh. Oceanography wasn't a bad class, and he needed the GE credits, but . . . . sometimes it was exceedingly simple.

"Hey!" someone called as he pushed his way into the hallway. "Oi, you!"

Zexion ignored it and kept walking on the way back to his dorm. At least, he would have if not for the callused hand that clamped tightly around his wrist, whirling him around to bring his lips crashing against another's.

Zexion was in shock for only a moment before shoving the stranger away. "What the hell was that?" he demanded angrily.

He could practically hear the grin in the other young man's voice as he replied, "Sorry, Zexy." Bastard.

Wait.

"But you see, it was the only thing I could think of to give you," Demyx continued. "Honestly, and here I'd thought you'd at least remember me. What with the promise and all."

A thousand different replies sailed through Zexion's head, and finally he settled for, "Shut up, dumbass. What hall are you in?"

"Ansem the Wise. First floor."

"Really? I'm there as well. I've never seen you around."

"That's because you're antisocial!"

"Whatever you say, Dem . . . ."

-That night, Zexion called his mother and asked if she still believed in "happily ever after."-

-owari-

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46	47	48	49	50

51	52	53	54	55

1	2	3	4	5

6	7	8	9	10

11	12	13	14	15

16	17	18	19	20

21	22	23	24	25

26	27	28	29	30

31	32	33	34	35

36	37	38	39	40

41	42	43	44

1	2	3	4	5

6	7	8	9	10

11	12	13	14	15

16	17	18	19	20

21	22	23	24	25

26	27	28	29	30

31	32	33	34	35

36	37	38	39	40

41	42	43	44	45

46	47	48	49	50

51	52	53	54	55

56	57	58	59	60

61	62	63	64	65

66	67	68	69	70

1	2	3	4	5

6	7	8	9	10

11	12	13	14	15

16	17	18	19	20

21	22	23	24	25

26	27	28	29	30

31	32	33	34	35

36	37	38	39	40

41	42	43	44	45

46	47	48	49	50

51	52	53	54	55