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Published : 1 year, 9 months ago (Tue, 09 Oct 2007 18:20:42 PDT)
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Title: Deae Ex Machina
Category: Kingdom Hearts, post-KH2 non-AU, humor/romance
Rating: M
Pairings: Primary – AkuRoku, Marluxia/Vexen; secondary – Cloud/Leon; tertiary – Demyx/Xigbar, Xemnas/Saïx, Riku/Sora, other
Summary: Should they have gotten a second chance? No. Do they deserve a second chance? Probably not. Will they do better as productive members of society than they did as criminal masterminds? Even they can’t fuck that one up.
Last time on Deae: Xaldin looked over at the page and said flatly, “It’s none of our business and you like holding hands and are so cute.”
“You got it,” Roxas said, twining his fingers with Axel’s as he took a bite of his ice cream. Demyx watched this, covering his mouth with both hands and bouncing on the balls of his feet.
“That’s so cute!” he exclaimed, earning grins from both parties in question.
Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7
Chapter 8 – On Surprise Sex and Other Homosexual Revelations
Larxene burst through the door to Vexen’s lab unannounced, and Vexen turned coolly to look at her, setting a test tube back in its rack and smoothly pulling his safety goggles off. “I know you never knocked around the castle, but do you have to continue the habit here?” he drawled. Larxene stalked across the tile floor, glaring mental kunai at the taller figure and pointing an accusatory finger straight at his chest.
“You slimeball,” she said, her voice a dangerous growl. “Can’t you just let it go?”
Vexen raised a thin eyebrow and narrowed the opposite eye in confusion. “If you didn’t want to be tested, you could have just called and told me you weren’t coming.”
Larxene rolled her eyes and waved her hand irritably. “Not that, you stupid brick of meat,” she snapped. “You have everyone else come down to the lab and send Lexaeus to test Marluxia at his house?”
“I’m allergic to Eleven,” Vexen said icily, turning back to his equipment and checking the progress of something atop a Bunsen burner. “He gives me hives, remember?”
“Don’t give me that crap,” Larxene said, appearing on the other side of the table and glaring at Vexen over his various apparatuses.
Vexen slammed down a fist on the desk. “It itches!” he insisted.
“You’re still angry because he ordered your execution,” Larxene said, narrowing her green-blue eyes. “You’re holding a grudge. That is so like you, Number Four.”
Vexen drew himself up to his full height. “You’d love to think that, wouldn’t you?” he said. He turned and made his way over to the refrigerator in the corner. “With anyone else you’d probably be right.” He opened the fridge and pulled out a small metal tray of Petri dishes before marching back over to the table and slamming it down onto the surface. “Unfortunately for your hypothesis, Number Twelve, I don’t really care. Things happen. People do things. What matter are results, and I’m fine now. Grudges are useless.” He carefully lined up the samples he’d retrieved and promptly set about writing short observations on a clipboard. His pencil snapped.
“Oh really?” Larxene asked, relaxing her posture and looking down her nose at the scientist – quite a feat, considering the height he had on her. “If you’re so cool with Marly, prove it.”
Vexen raised his eyes to glare at her again and drew his lips into a tight snarl. “How?” he responded, intoning it more as a threat than an inquiry.
“Let him come to the lab,” Larxene answered, beginning to perambulate around the room, prodding and examining the various instruments in a way that made Vexen’s blood pressure go nuts.
“I don’t need him to,” the researcher said. “Lexaeus got everything I need.”
Larxene rolled her eyes so hard it looked as though she were in danger of straining something. “Let him come and help you with stuff,” she said. “Have him wash your stupid test tubes or something.”
“I’m allergic to him!” Vexen reiterated. He was eying a flask of an extremely caustic and painful chemical compound that was resting temptingly near his right hand, but told himself that the ingredients were quite expensive and Number Twelve wasn’t worth it.
“Make yourself some allergy medication,” Larxene said, appearing right next to Vexen and glaring up at him defiantly. “He doesn’t shit sakura blossoms and have pollen for dandruff anymore, so it doesn’t have to be that strong. You’re a fucking genius; make it work.”
Vexen shook his head in exasperation and said, “What the hell are you doing this for, anyway?”
“I’m his fag hag, you cocksucker,” she explained. “I look out for him and he goes shopping with me. It’s a sacred symbiotic relationship that you wouldn’t understand.”
“You know something?” Vexen said, leaning his weight on the lab table and putting a hand on his hip. “I think that my former hypothesis that you are a psychotic cunt is progressing nicely into a rather well-rounded theory.”
“Oh yeah?” Larxene said. “Let me tell you about my hypothesis. Assuming that you don’t agree to my terms, I predict that you will find samples of all your internal organs in that fridge of yours tomorrow right between the Petri dishes and your Lunchables.”
The former ice elemental just rolled his eyes and adjusted the flame on one of his burners, but he relented. “Tell Eleven that I’ll have the antihistamine ready tomorrow. And tell him that I am expecting something in return for this. He should know what it is.”
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
“Eleven, there is residue on this test tube,” Vexen said, leaning in the door between the lab proper and the small kitchen of the house.
Marluxia turned and glowered at Vexen. Never before had he looked so domestic; he had twisted his hair up on the back of his head and stuck a chopstick through it, he was wearing rubber gloves, and he was slaving over a sink of hot running water. Somehow, Vexen thought wryly, it almost suited him.
“Look, Vexen,” Marluxia sighed, putting down the flask he was scrubbing and turning off the faucet so that he could hear more easily. “I don’t know what the hell you had in that thing, but—”
Vexen interrupted. “Dikryptochloride.”
“Yeah, whatever. The point is that I washed it over and over and over with everything you’ve got here, and nothing worked. It’s a lost cause. Don’t those things only cost like five munny apiece anyway?”
The blond gave him a stony glare, throwing the tube in question into the nearest trash bin significantly harder than he had to. “What the hell is the point of having you around?” he snarled.
This was Marluxia’s fourth day working in the lab, and Vexen, Lexaeus, and Zexion had gotten an unprecedented amount of research done since the extra help had arrived. Marluxia was intelligent enough deep down inside, but knew absolutely nothing about science; he’d spent all his time diligently working to make sure that the lab stayed clean. The floors had been scrubbed, the tabletops were polished, the specimens were even more organized than usual, and the glass equipment was, for the most part, spotless. Additionally, the three researchers no longer missed any meals due to being too engrossed in their work to even pick up the phone for a pizza because Marluxia had given himself a crash course in the fine art of making sandwiches.
For Vexen it easy to forget that Marluxia was even there during the day, but in the evenings when Zexion and Lexaeus went home, he found it exceedingly difficult to ignore the only other person in the small house, hanging around making sure all the tasks he’d set himself were finished before he left for the night. What made it particularly bad was that Marluxia hadn’t spoken a single word about that time that he had sent Axel to kill Vexen in cold blood. He just hung around making sure the scientists had everything they needed and cleaning up every spill and explosion they created, never complaining and doing absolutely everything they asked without question. It was really pissing Vexen off.
“What do you mean what’s the point in having me around?” Marluxia asked. “In case you haven’t noticed, this place is so clean you can see your reflection in the toilet seat. I’m doing a good fucking job.”
A short, utterly humorless laugh escaped Vexen’s lips as he crossed his arms. “Yeah, you’re doing a good fucking job that I didn’t want you to do in the first place. You had to send your girlfriend to bitch me into letting you hang out with the smart kids.”
Marluxia’s eyes widened. “She’s not my girlfriend!” he snapped. “And I didn’t send her; I can’t make Larxene do a damned thing!”
“Oh, so it was her idea for you to come sit around acting like everything’s just peachy in front of the guy you killed, huh?” Vexen said, marching over to Marluxia and leaning into him so close that the shorter man had to lean back over the sink. “Well, that makes the both of you the classiest people I know.”
“Oh, did you come up with that one yourself?” Marluxia said sarcastically, his expression quickly going from shocked to furious. “I’d like to see the stack of research you have to support that little theory!”
“Call it an instinct,” Vexen spat. “Why the hell else would you be doing this?”
Marluxia narrowed his eyes. “Like you don’t know, Vexen. I don’t have to be doing this; I’m here voluntarily, and all you’ve done all week is give me those stupid glares and jump on me every chance you’ve gotten!”
“You deserve it!”
“Maybe I do, but that doesn’t make you any less of an asshole for doing it! Fuck, I’m doing my goddamned best, but with the way you’re acting I’m beginning to be glad I had Axel kill you!”
There was a split second of pervasive silence and then it was broken by the sound of Vexen’s knuckles smashing against the side of Marluxia’s face. Marluxia went down faster than he had that one New Year’s with Luxord after about seven too many shots, crashing to the kitchen floor with an audible thud and letting out a gasp that was equal parts surprise and pain.
Vexen stood there over the other man for a moment. “Get out,” he said at last, turning and striding back into the lab. He was actually going for the front door, not even wanting to stick around long enough to watch Marluxia leave, but three seconds later something barreled into him from behind and he was thrown forward into a wall. The wind was fairly well knocked out of him, and he found himself being forcefully spun around and pinned with his back against the plaster. Marluxia was standing there, his face already beginning to bruise and his fingers curled around Vexen’s shoulders like talons.
“Get the fuck off of me,” Vexen gasped, his voice raspy. He went to punch Marluxia again but was intercepted this time and received one of Eleven’s own fists in his gut instead. He doubled over but managed to keep his wits about him enough even through the pain to hurl himself forward into Marluxia’s midsection, felling the pink-haired man once more and landing on top of him roughly.
Marluxia, for his part, managed to recover enough fairly quickly that he forced Vexen off of him and onto his back, rolling on top of him and landing a glancing blow on his face as he did so. He swore as he cut his hand on Vexen’s teeth. “Ow, shit!” he exclaimed, losing his focus for a moment. Vexen took advantage of his distraction to start fighting dirty. He grabbed the chopstick out of Marluxia’s hair, quickly dismissed its usefulness as a weapon, and chucked it across the room before grabbing a huge handful of the smaller man’s thick pink locks between his fingers.
Vexen yanked, and Marluxia let out a half-scream, half-growl. The pink-haired man rolled in the direction of the yanking in an attempt to relieve the pressure on his head, which allowed Vexen to roll them back over to where they’d originally been with Vexen on top of Marluxia.
“Fuck, let go, Vexen!” Marluxia shrieked. He’d always treated his hair with the sort of care he otherwise only reserved for his garden, and his scalp was anything but prepared for this sort of abuse. Vexen just squeezed harder, so Marluxia jumped to Hastily Thrown-Together Plan B, which involved reaching up with his right hand and taking hold of a fistful of Vexen’s own long blond hair.
Vexen screamed as well; he didn’t worry about his hair anywhere near as much as Eleven, but he sure as hell had never had it pulled like this. He tried to knee Marluxia in his one-hit K.O. spot without stopping to think that he was in absolutely no position to be getting his knee up that far on the other man’s body. What he ended up doing was roughly wedging the soft bit of his upper thigh into Marluxia’s crotch. Being as he was lying on top of him at the time, he also ended up with Marluxia’s own leg pressed into his groin.
And there they were at a standstill, lying on the floor of Vexen’s lab with their chests flush together, their legs twined with each other’s, and clutching handfuls of hair and clothes. They lay there for a very long moment, neither daring to move anywhere for fear of further punishment to his scalp, breathing heavily against each other and staring manically into each other’s eyes. Anyone could have told them that there was only one way to resolve this situation. It was totally obvious, and both Vexen and Marluxia knew it. They both decided to go for it at the same moment.
Their lips collided together roughly, their tongues immediately invading each other’s mouths and searching out the unfamiliar space with an air of need and desperation. Marluxia could taste blood in Vexen’s mouth, presumably a mix of the blond’s with his own. As their tongues tangled together, their holds on each other’s hair loosened and they brought their hands down to grip shoulders and necks and backs, pulling each other even closer than they already had been.
It was when they finally had to pull back for air and Vexen moved his mouth down to Marluxia’s neck as the smaller man began yanking at his lab coat in an attempt to get it off that they realized, somewhere in the back of their respective minds, that this was more than the only way out of a difficult situation.
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
Next door to Vexen’s single-storey house was a public park. It had packed dirt paths and wildflowers and a duck pond, and around the perimeter it had a low stone wall. Along the outside of the stone wall were overgrown flowering bushes, and between these bushes and the wall in the spot closest to Vexen’s house were Leon and Cloud.
They were sitting next to each other on the grass, leaning up against the aforementioned wall and staring at Vexen’s house. They’d been there for most of the afternoon and into the evening, and they were wearing, as always, a lot of black and a lot of belts. Cloud had a pair of sunglasses on despite the fact that it was now twilight. He was also breaking pieces off of a chocolate bar he’d produced from his backpack, and he tried to stick one in Leon’s mouth.
“Get that away from me,” Leon said, gently pushing Cloud’s hand away from his face. “I don’t want any.”
Cloud shrugged and popped the candy into his own mouth. “C’mon, Squall, you’ve gotta be as hungry as I am.”
“We’ll get food that won’t turn us into a couple of lardasses as soon as we’re done here.”
“He’s late.”
“I know. I’m beginning to worry; what if those two are up to something?”
“Eleven and Four?” Cloud asked through a bite of chocolate. “I thought they hated each other. They’ve been screaming at each other every night since Eleven started coming here.”
“Maybe they’re working together now. I don’t like Eleven.”
“Why not?”
Leon shrugged one shoulder. “If you’ve got the nerve to go out in public with your hair looking like that, you need to have something to back it up. He’s probably a lot more dangerous than he looks.”
“Oh.” Cloud thought about this and finally nodded an agreement as he tried to dislodge some half-melted chocolate from his teeth using his tongue. “Well, do you want to see what’s wrong?”
“I could go look through the window,” Leon muttered. “I think I will. Eleven definitely should have left by now.” He put one hand on Cloud’s shoulder and used the leverage to help himself get to his feet, groaning a bit as he fought against the stiffness that had overtaken the muscles in his back.
Cloud snorted lightly. “I’ll have to walk on your back later.”
“Or something like that,” Leon amended as he took off across the small lawn between the bushes and Vexen’s house. Cloud watched with his head in his hand and propped up on his knee as the brunet loped across the grass to the low window near the front door, pressing himself against the red brick wall like the world’s most poorly-camouflaged spy. He tucked some of his hair behind his ear and turned partially to glance through the window. Rolling his eyes, he raised his hand up to block the reflection in the glass.
Leon just stood there like that for several seconds, not moving. He then turned away from the window, blinked a couple of times, and walked back across the grass, settling himself down in the same spot he’d just vacated. Cloud watched him expectantly for a moment before speaking up.
“So? Anything?” he asked.
“They’re having sex,” Leon said, his voice completely neutral.
“What?”
“They’re having sex on a tile floor,” Leon clarified. “And they’re both covered in bruises.” He still didn’t sound particularly interested or disinterested in this.
“We are talking about the blond one and the pink-haired one, right?” Cloud asked. Leon nodded and Cloud looked away, blinking at a spot somewhere in front of him and to the left thoughtfully. “Oh,” he said at last. “Does this mean we can leave?”
“I... guess so.”
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
The sex was painful, not only because of the injuries they’d dealt each other in the fist fight immediately prior, and not only because of the hard tile floor they were doing it on, but also because they were merciless with each other. They scratched, and they bit, and when Vexen took Marluxia he used spit, of all things. But they came at almost the same time, and Vexen lay on top of Marluxia for a length of time neither of them could measure. It had been dark for a while before either of them moved, and when they did it was Vexen that did first, rolling off of Marluxia onto the cold floor next to the pink-haired man, his right arm still loosely draped behind the other man’s neck.
They didn’t look at each other after they climaxed. Vexen trained his eyes in one direction and Marluxia looked adamantly in another, although they were both incredibly and inescapably aware of the breathing and the heartbeats and the minute movements of each other. Finally, Vexen pulled his pants back on silently, then stood and stared at his autoclave for a long minute.
“Don’t come back,” he said at last and without turning around. Marluxia, for the first time since he had screamed Vexen’s name into the near-silence of the sterile-looking room, looked at the blond and spoke to him.
“What?” he said, propping himself up on one elbow and narrowing his eyes at the taller man.
“You heard me,” Vexen said, his head lowering slightly though he didn’t make any move to look at Marluxia. “I had enough of you in the last life, and I’m not going to let you fuck this one up as well. Get out.” And with that, Vexen padded off, his bare feet almost silent on the tile. He disappeared down the house’s short hallway and into the back room. The door clicked twice – once as it shut and once as it was locked – and Marluxia was alone. It took him ten minutes to gather his scattered thoughts and get clean and dressed, and then he was gone.
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
Larxene didn’t glance up from her book and her massively overpriced espresso-laced caffeine bomb waiting to explode as a figure approached her table and sat down across from her. “You’re late, Fag,” she drawled, running her eyes over the last few lines of the paragraph.
“Sorry, things came up,” Marluxia said quietly. “Had to stay late at Vexen’s.” He didn’t sound like he were telling the truth. Or at least not any important part of it. Larxene looked up, and her ice blue eyes widened at her friend’s state.
“Marlu, what the fucking hell happened?” she exclaimed, slamming her book shut and sitting forward in her chair. She nearly knocked over her coffee in the process, and got a few stares from the other patrons of the coffeehouse.
Marluxia glanced up at her through his bangs, which made him look much smaller and much younger. His lip was bleeding a bit, he had a bruise blooming across his cheek, and his neck and the parts of his shoulders and collarbones left exposed by the rumpled, partially-buttoned shirt he was wearing had several smaller contusions marring the pale skin. “I, well… I said some things, and Vexen said some things, and then… he, uh…”
If these had been the old days, Larxene would have been sending tiny bolts of lightning through the atmosphere and Marluxia’s hair would have been standing on end with the charge and his proximity. As it was, the tiny woman was simply about to bolt out of her seat. “He beat you up?! I’m gonna go kill him.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out her wallet, brandishing it at Marluxia. “I’ll be back in an hour; order yourself something.”
At first it looked like Marluxia was going to go for the wallet, but then he grabbed Larxene’s wrist instead, shaking his head fervently. “No, Larx, he didn’t beat me up! I mean, he punched me, but I punched him back, and we did kind of have a fight, but…”
“Kind of?” Larxene sat back in her seat and put her wallet down, but only so she could use that hand to gesture to Marluxia’s general appearance. “Look at you! You’re bruised, you’re bleeding for fuck’s sake, Mar! That’s not kind of a fight!”
Marluxia glanced out the window of the café at the people passing by under the street lights and bit his lip. “Nn, the bruises aren’t from the fight…” he mumbled, barely audible.
Larxene finally stopped clenching and unclenching her fists and gritting her teeth in anger. She narrowed her eyes and raised one delicate eyebrow. “…What?”
“Um.” Her friend tore his eyes away from the window and drummed his fingers against the tabletop a bit edgily. “Okay. We had a fight, and then we had sex.” Larxene’s jaw dropped, and Marluxia added, “Well, they were really both part of the same general progression of events; the fight kind of led right into the sex so you could really consid—”
“Wait a goddamned minute,” Larxene said, using her hand like a knife to cut Marluxia short. “Am I mistaken or did you just say you fucked Vexen?”
“If you wanna get technical about it, he fucked me.”
Larxene flailed her hands, shaking her head. “Mar, is this some kind of joke?”
“Why would I joke about it?”
“Because… well, fuck, because I knew you wanted to ‘make things right’ or whatever the fuck it was you called it, but I can’t believe you’d ask me to go over there to threaten him just because you wanted to get into—”
“I do want to make things right with him! This just… happened.”
Larxene had her eyes squeezed shut and two fingers pressed into the bridge of her nose like she were having a hard time remembering an equation in the middle of a calculus exam. “Marlu, I hope you realize where I’m having difficulty time picturing this.”
“…Not really.” He really didn’t look like he knew what the problem was; his face was as blank as someone’s who was having a hard time remember his own name in the middle of a calculus exam.
Sighing through her nose, Larxene held out her hands parallel to each other in an attempt to make sure Marluxia focused his limited attention on what she was saying. “You are attractive, Marluxia. Very attractive, and charming, and socially adept. Vexen is… Vexen. Do you follow me?”
Marluxia had one eye narrowed and his head was very slowly tilting to one side. Larxene huffed and rolled her eyes. “Obviously not. Let’s try a different approach. Mar, what in the world possessed you to sleep with Vexen? Think back to how you were feeling at the time you did it.”
A blush started creeping its way up Marluxia’s cheeks and he found the corner of his mouth tugging back involuntarily. “That’s easy, I remember it like it was only yesterday.”
Larxene’s eyelids dropped. “It was like an hour ago, you idiot.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know, but… Okay. What I was thinking at the time. Well… he was on me, and I was thinking that felt really nice, and then I was thinking it would be even nicer if there were different prepositions to describe our relationship. Like in.”
“Oh my fucking god.”
Marluxia realized that this was probably not what Larxene wanted to hear and he quickly backtracked and said, “Fine, fine, I’m sorry, you wanna know what I think of Vexen, right?”
“That would be helpful, yes. I want to know what the hell you see in him, because I’ve just recently become filled with morbid curiosity. And I’m a little concerned for your mental health.”
Marluxia gave her a slightly dry look and sighed as he held up a hand, stared at the ceiling, and started counting things off on his fingers. “Well, he’s got a huge—”
“Marluxia!”
“Intellect, Larx, I was going to say intellect!” Marluxia rolled his eyes like he had never given Larxene any reason to be afraid of the sort of stuff that was going to come out of his mouth.
“…Fine. Go on.”
He continued, “And he’s very stoic, you know. That’s hot. And you know how his voice is, right? It’s… like… really smooth, with just a hint of insane?” He was grinning like an idiot by this point. “Plus I think he’s really pretty; he’s got good cheekbones, and I love his hair, and I really love his hair when he puts it up so it doesn’t get in his chemicals. And his eyes are gorgeous; you know how I used to talk about Axel’s eyes all the time because they were green, but I honestly think Vexen has a better green.
“Oh, and I didn’t realize this before today, but he’s got a ton of scars, really awesome ones, and they’re kind of ticklish, which is really adorable. And there’s this thing that he does where he lines all his test tubes up in the holder so that they’re all perfectly straight with one finger, kinda like this…” He demonstrated the motion as best he could with his right ring finger, then waved his hand dismissively. “Well, I can’t do it right, but it’s really cute, and—”
Larxene held up a hand again, cutting him off. “All right, that’s enough.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Marluxia said quickly, “I didn’t even tell you about this thing that he does with his tongue, because oh my god that was the best sex I—”
“Dammit, Marluxia, I don’t need to hear it!” Larxene practically shrieked. Her friend stopped and stared at her, then seemed to realize what a rant he’d just gone off on; the blush from before returned with a vengeance.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “I got kind of excited.”
“Obviously,” Larxene sighed. “Okay, I’m not even going to try to make sense of it. You’re obsessed with Vexen, and I guess I can accept that. I still don’t know what’s wrong with you, though.”
“I’m not </i>obsessed</i> with Vexen,” Marluxia muttered, glancing at something out of the corner of his eye.
“No, you’re obsessed.” Larxene’s voice had a hell of a lot more conviction than Marluxia’s did. “You’re talking about him like you talk about flowers, and you’re fucking obsessed with flowers.”
Marluxia furrowed his eyebrows. “Hey, don’t make fun of flowers; I love flowers!”
“So you’re saying you love Vexen?” Larxene asked, sitting back and crossing her arms. She couldn’t help but smirk.
Her friend sputtered. “I… you… that’s so third grade, Larxene.”
Larxene’s smirk only widened. “So what now? Since you’re my brother from another mother and all, does this make him like my brother-in-law from another mother? Doesn’t really have the same ring to it.”
Marluxia drummed his fingers on the table and put his head in his hand, blowing his bangs out of his face and looking generally miserable all of a sudden. “No. I don’t think he ever wants to see me again.”
“What? But… you just… What the hell is wrong with you two?”
“Hey, just ‘cause we had insane mind-blowing sex doesn’t mean he stopped hating me,” Marluxia pointed out dismally.
Larxene thought about this for a moment. “Yeah, I guess. I remember you started hating Luxord after that one New Yea—”
“I told you never to speak of that again!”
That earned him a grin like the edge of a scimitar. “In any case, what Vexen wants and what Vexen’s going to get are two entirely different things.”
Marluxia looked up at her and blinked. “They are?”
“Well, you’re not going to give up that easily, are you?”
“…I’m not?”
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
Naminé ran into Sora and Riku in the student union a few days after the party from Hollow Bastion had arrived in Kismet. Riku closed his phone and said, “Naminé, why can’t I get a hold of Kairi?”
The blond girl looked up at him quite literally and grinned. “She’s with Yuffie.”
“And what are they doing?” Riku asked.
“They’re on a date.”
Sora choked on his double chocolate iced mocha whatever the fuck it was he’d talked Riku into getting for him. “What?”
Naminé rocked back on the heels of her cute-yet-sensible slip-ons, splaying her fingers together and smiling softly. “I said they’re on a date.”
“I know, and I said what?”
“Sora…” Riku said softly.
“No, wait, this isn’t making sense. How can Kairi be gay? She’s not… terrifying. Gay girls are scary!”
Riku’s eye twitched. “What are you talking about, Sora?”
“They could snap me in half like a twig!” the smaller boy practically squeaked. Riku just pursed his lips and took a long, slow breath.
“Oh, Sora, we won’t snap you in half,” Naminé said happily. “Well, maybe Larxene would.”
Sora’s eyes widened. “Nami, you too?!”
Naminé spread her hands and said, “Everyone else is doing it, so why can’t we?”
“Oh my god, you’re right!” Sora exclaimed loudly, bringing a hand up to his mouth and earning a few raised eyebrows from the other people milling about the student union. “Everyone I know is gay!” There was a collective silence in the area for a long moment.
“Sora,” Riku said very slowly. “I hate to break this to you, but I’m gay.”
Naminé giggled prettily as she shifted her sketchbook under her arm. Sora looked up at Riku, wide-eyed. “I know we’re gay, but don’t you see? This is like waking up one morning and realizing that everyone around you has red hair!”
“Kairi has red hair,” Riku replied.
“So does Axel,” Naminé added.
“And they’re both gay,” Riku pointed out.
A slight pause and he and Naminé both exclaimed, “Conspiracy!”
Sora hit Riku’s arm halfheartedly. “I’m saying that if everyone had red hair, wouldn’t you think it was weird?”
Riku looked at the ceiling and thought for a moment. “No.”
“Oh,” Sora said. He paused. “Okay.” He and Riku just stared at each other for a long moment and then Sora turned to Naminé and said, “Why is Kairi on a date with Yuffie? They don’t even live on the same world.”
“Well, I suppose that if they like each other enough, Yuffie will come to school here.”
“Oh.”
“Or Kairi will transfer to RGU.”
Sora flailed. “Yuffie is a homewrecker!”
Riku was massaging the bridge of his nose. “Sora, we’re not married to Kairi.”
Sora gave him a distasteful look and argued, “So? She’s our best girl friend! We need her to go shoe shopping with us!”
“You and I both hate shoe shopping, Sora.”
That earned Riku one of Sora’s painfully unintimidating angry glares. “My whole world is crumbling out from under me!”
Another roll of Riku’s eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll catch you.”
Sora just bristled at his dismissive words, but Naminé smiled broadly. “That’s so sweet of you, Riku,” she said. She leaned forward on her toes to give him a hug, then did the same to Sora. “I have to get to my class. I’ll see you two later.”
Full stop.
Next time on Deae: Larxene laughed – six short ha’s, each as sharp and light as her kunai. “Okay, you want me to come work for you again? Gee, that sounds really great, except for – oh yeah, what was it that happened last time? I tried to overthrow you in a bloody coup? Yeah, that sounds about right. What are you, clinically retarded?”
“I haven’t been tested, actually,” Xemnas replied, sounding completely unperturbed. |
