Loss of Happy Abandon

by WaywardPixie

Chapter 1: Chapter 1

It was nearing midnight when Zexion decided he was hungry. He didn't want to get up and head to the kitchen, but he doubted anyone would be there at this ungodly hour.

He threw on his organization coat and softly padded down the halls in his bare feet. He flinched at every noise he made, expecting one of the other members to wake up and try to talk to him – something he didn't want to do, especially at this time of night.

As he neared the kitchen, he saw that the light was on, spilling into the hallway. Zexion almost turned back, but his night time hunger won over.

He slipped into the kitchen and groaned. Of all the people he could have run into, it had to be Demyx, quietly humming to himself.

At the sound, Demyx turned around, and upon seeing the slate-haired man standing before him, grinned.

"What are you doing up at this time of night, Zexy?" He said, walking forwards.

Zexion just stared at the spiky-haired blonde, trying to comprehend how he was still his energetic self in the middle of the night.

Demyx frowned. "Zexy? Zexion, are you even awake, or are you sleepwalking?"

Zexion blinked and shook his head, his voice quiet as he spoke. "Hungry."

The smile was back on the blonde's face. "Hungry? Why didn't you say so in the first place?" He turned back around, making his way to the fridge. "So what do you want? Not that we have much variety." He frowned. "Is a sandwich okay?"

His brain finally catching up with the situation, he shook his head a second time. "Demyx, I can make my own food. I don't need your help."

"But I don't want to go back to bed," Demyx whined.

"And how does me preparing my own food stop you from staying?"

Demyx paused. "Well… if I don't make myself useful, you'll just tell me to go away and stop bothering you." Zexion had to admit, the blonde was right for once. Apparently, there was a brain in that head of his, no matter how small.

He started to walk past Demyx, towards the fridge, but he was cut off. Glancing up, he saw a solemn look on Demyx's face and an almost pleading look in his deep blue eyes.

"You know, sometimes I wish it doesn't feel like you hate me." He paused, looking deep into Zexion's eyes, searching. "You don't, do you?" He asked, leaning forwards.

Zexion, still half asleep, shook his head. "Not hate. You're just too energetic. And you slack off. Constantly."

Demyx jerked his head back, smiling. "Really? That's it?" He paused, calming himself down. "I don't have to be energetic, y'know. And I only slacked off so I could – never mind," he cut himself off, rubbing the back of his neck. "Just – I can change, Zex. You'll see."

With that, he stepped around Zexion, and exited the kitchen, pulling the door closed behind him.

What was that? Thought Zexion, trying to comprehend what had just taken place. Unable to come up with an explanation for the blonde's behaviour, he pushed the incident out of his mind. Grabbing an apple from the fridge, he walked back to his room, taking a bite from the fruit. Red Delicious. Not the best, But tasty enough, he thought as he opened the door to his room.

Chapter 2: Chapter 2

The next day, as he headed out for a mission, Zexion noticed that something was missing from the common room. It took him a while, but eventually, he pinpointed the problem.

It was silent.

There was no music being played from the collection of couches. In fact, no one was even at the couches.

"Where's number IX?" He asked Saix, who was in the middle of giving him the overview of the mission.

The blue-haired man's eyebrows shot up. "On a mission," he replied shortly.

Zexion almost choked on the air he was breathing. "He – what? A mission? You mean to tell me that our 'residential slacker' is actually doing work?"

"You don't believe me? Then where do you suppose he is, then, if not on a mission?" Saix looked at Zexion as if daring the younger man to contradict him.

Zexion shook his head. "It's not that I don't believe you, it's that I'm shocked."

Saix turned, signaling the end of the conversation.

Just as Zexion put up his hand to create a Darkness Door, his superior's voice rang out behind him.

"And just so you know, you're not the only one who's noticed the change." A pause. "I've asked everyone this: Did something happen between the two of you last night?"

Zexion contemplated on telling the truth, but something in the back of his mind told him to keep the incident private.

"No. Everything was normal."

When Zexion got back, everything was back to normal. He stepped into the common room to find Demyx lounging on one of the couches, strumming his citar, and Axel, Roxas and the puppet, Xion, were standing off to the side talking. Saix, as usual, was hovering in the shadows, glowering at everyone. All the other Organization members were scattered throughout the castle, who knows where, doing who knows what. Except for Marluxia – Zexion had a strong feeling that the pink-haired man was either admiring himself in a mirror or showering everything around him in pink petals. Or both, Zexion wouldn't be surprised.

Zexion could almost forget something was different. Almost. But Demyx wasn't playing with his usual loud lack of control. He was sitting there, his slightly depressed face turned downwards.

Zexion felt a twinge in his gut. He tried to ignore the reason, but couldn't. He missed the other man's happy abandon.

After a week of missions, Zexion still hadn't gotten used to the new Demyx. Hadn't gotten used to the lack of music, the deep penetration of silence all over the castle. Hadn't gotten used to the lack of whining whenever a mission was assigned. Hadn't gotten used to the silent Demyx, lounging during his spare time, looking more and more depressed every time Zexion saw him.

Something was wrong with the man – he was becoming more emo than Zexion was.

And so, deciding one night that something had to change, he went down to Demyx's room.

When he got there, Zexion saw that the door to the citarist's room was open, and the moonlight from the window was spilling into the hallway. Peering into the room, he saw that it was empty, save for the abandoned citar in the corner.

Realizing Demyx must be in the kitchen for a midnight snack, Zexion headed further down the hall, leaving Demyx's room behind him.

His assumption was confirmed when he heard a soft, faint humming coming from the kitchen.

"Demyx?" He called out into the room. The humming stopped immediately. He stepped through the doorway, frowning. "Why'd you stop?"

"Stop what?" the response was quiet, no energy to it whatsoever.

Zexion raised an eyebrow. "Your humming."

Demyx turned around, his back now facing Zexion. "Sorry. I – I won't do it again." His shoulders hunched.

A quizzical expression formed on Zexion's face. "You know that when someone asks you why you stopped something, you're supposed to answer the question, not apologize, right?"

"I – I know. Sorry. I just… I figured you didn't want to hear me singing. After all, you did say I was too loud…" Demyx's voice wavered, and Zexion wondered if it was actually all his fault the blonde standing before him had been miserable. "Didn't want to hear you singing? Demyx, do you realize just how quiet it's been this past week due to your lack of music?"

The said blonde turned, facing Zexion. "Yes, I realize that. Why do you think I stopped?"

Zexion was taken aback by the man's logic. "Demyx, I never said I didn't like your music! You just automatically assumed my comment about the quietness was thanking you! Honestly, if I wanted quiet all the time, then I would have holed up in the library a long time ago." He threw his hands up in the air, exasperated. "Whatever. Just… stop acting all depressed and everything, okay?"

Demyx looked at the slate-haired man, startled. "But… I thought… you liked it when I'm not jumping all over the place." Zexion shook his head at the assumption.

"No. I – I don't really know why I didn't like you. Actually, yes, I do. I think it was the fact that you were too out there, too much the center of attention. I've always been an introvert, a bookworm. I never thought I could become friends with someone with your personality."

Demyx looked sadly at Zexion, his eyes stinging with the beginning of tears. "That's what I figured." He turned around, his body language clearly saying to leave him alone to sulk.

Zexion felt a distinct pang in his chest at the sight of the other man in pain. At first, he didn't understand why, but then the realization struck him, making him blink in surprise. No way, he thought, dumbstruck. It's not possible. We can't –

He stared at Demyx, now sitting against the wall, facing away from him. But the position couldn't hide the fact that his shoulders were quivering. Nor could it hide the quiet sobs emanating from the hunched form.

Silently, Zexion moved forwards and knelt beside the crying man.

"Demyx, I have to confess something. Something you might want to know before you go back to emoing in the corner."

Chapter 3: Chapter 3

Summary:

final chapter. don't worry, they make up.

Demyx jumped at the voice beside him. He tried to hide his face, but the other man grabbed his shoulder and forced him to turn.

Zexion watched as the blonde tried to keep his face turned away, attempting to hide the tears. "Demyx," he said softly, and reached for the other man's face, stroking his cheek. "Demyx, look at me."

Moving his hand slightly so he could brush some stray hairs from the man's face, he sighed. "Dem, just listen, okay? If you won't look at me, then just listen."

But Zexion didn't have to wait any longer to see Demyx's face. The moment that the blonde realized Zexion had shortened his name, he turned, his eyes wide. "You… you just called me…" He trailed off, eyes searching Zexion's face.

Zexion felt a knot form in his stomach – from anxiety, or anticipation, or both, he didn't know. He lowered his eyes to the floor between them, not wanting to see Demyx's face as he talked. "Demyx, I – I know. About… how you feel. About me." There was a sharp intake of breath from the young man before him.

"Y – You know?" Demyx asked, his voice squeaking. Then he lowered his tone. "Shit, you don't feel the same, do you? I knew it." There was dejection clear in his voice.

In response to the assumption, Zexion raised his head and leaned forwards, pressing his lips lightly to Demyx's. But before the blonde had time to react, he pulled away, rising to his feet and chuckling. "You know, I would never have pegged you for being such a pessimist, Dem."

He turned from the stammering blonde and began to walk away. But he had only gone a few steps when he felt a hand grab a fistful of his coat.

"Y – You felt the same, and you didn't tell me? You made me think you hated me."

Without turning, Zexion responded. "Demyx, I would never hate you. You might drive me nuts at times, but I could never hate you. And honestly, I only figured out now how I felt, so I couldn't tell you before, even if I wanted to."

They stood like that for a few minutes, Demyx trying to comprehend the probability of what was just spoken, and Zexion waiting, waiting for a response.

Finally, Demyx let go of Zexion's coat and pressed forwards to hug him from behind. "Thank you."

Zexion raised a hand to one of Demyx's, positioned just over his heart. "You promise me you'll go back to normal now? No more sulking?" he asked.

Demyx put his chin on the shoulder in front of him and whispered "yes," before suddenly pulling back.

Startled, Zexion turned, not knowing what to expect. He spun to face a grinning Demyx, past tears almost dried on his cheeks. "You mean I can go back to playing my citar all the time now?" The blonde asked, a sparkle in his eye.

Zexion, caught off guard at the sudden change of personality, let out a puff of laughter. "Of course – just not all the time, because you shouldn't go back to slacking off."

"Awww," came the response, making Zexion close his eyes and chuckle even more.

Before he had time to open them again, Demyx had caught them in another kiss, this one much more passionate than the previous.

Zexion raised his hands to Demyx's spiky hair, his fingers running through the blonde strands, while the man grabbed his hips and pulled them closer together.

He felt a tongue press at his lips and opened them, letting the blonde explore every crevice of his mouth.

As he did so, a spark, a heat began to radiate through his body. I didn't know we could feel this way, that this was even possible, Zexion managed to think as his lips moved in unison with Demyx's.

At least until the voice rang out through the kitchen.

"Holy shit!" at the sound, Zexion and Demyx broke apart, both breathing heavily. Zexion glanced at Demyx, a slight panic in his gaze, only to see laughter shining in his new lover's eyes.

He looked back to the door to see number IIIV, Axel, standing in the entry to the kitchen. "Holy shit," he repeated. "Oh God, I think I just lost my appetite."

Demyx let out a belt of laughter as the flame-haired man left, and Zexion couldn't help but crack a smile as well.