FicWad

Axel's not sure what he really expects when he hears there's a new guy. The first thing he thinks, really, is /about fucking time/. He's tired of having no seniority, and he's tired of the endless debates among the first six about whether he and VII are flukes, and the more evidence they get to the contrary, the less weight that argument will have.

The second thing he thinks, of course, is /better go make friends with the new boy, then/.

For certain values of 'friend,' anyway.

So the new Nobody could be anything -- another brooding fuck like III or VII, maybe, or another basket case like II, or...who knows what. But Axel opens the pathway through darkness anyway, sliding through the empty space behind reality and stepping out into the blank room where IX is being kept until he stabilizes and swears allegiance to the Organization and so forth.

IX, he discovers, is /pretty/.

"Hey, kiddo," Axel says. "What are they calling you, then?"

The kid sitting on the floor looks up, and his eyes are bright blue, wide and nervous. He's got 'victim' written all over him. "Demyx," he says. "Who are you?"

"Axel. Got it memorized?" His boots ring against the floor as he stalks toward the new boy. He summons his chakrams just for demonstration's sake, spinning them, letting his flames dance around the rims. "I do fire. What's your trick?"

Demyx cringes back from him a little, making the primitive fear-of-fire face, and laughs awkwardly. "W-water, actually. I, ah, hope that doesn't mean we have to be enemies or anything."

Axel grins. "Not at all," he says. He lets his chakrams go, feels them spin out into smoke and nothingness as he gets close enough to touch. "Matter of fact --" he tilts Demyx's face upward, his gloves stark black against the kid's pale smooth skin -- "I think we're going to wind up good friends."

"You think?" Demyx says, with a hesitant little smile. "Cool. I mean, that's way better than the alternative, right?"

"Sure," Axel says. He reaches for the zipper of his coat. "Take your uniform off."

"What?" Demyx asks, pulling back. "We don't even know each other. I mean, we just met."

This is going to be fun. "So?" Demyx scrabbles backward, on his way to his feet, and Axel paces forward so the kid can't really get any distance between them. "Not much point in romance when you don't have a heart, is there?"

Demyx pouts at him, or maybe glares; it's hard to tell. "You can't not have a heart! That doesn't make any /sense/."

"Maybe not," Axel says, and grins when Demyx's back hits the wall. "You know it's true, though, don't you? You can feel it." He presses his hand to Demyx's chest. "Right here."

"Cut it out," Demyx says. "Seriously. This isn't cool." His shoulders are tense, his arms at his sides with his fists balled.

Axel cocks an eyebrow, kicking Demyx's ankles to make him spread his legs a little, leaning in closer. The kid's robe isn't fitted like Axel's, but under it he's just as skinny. "Come on," Axel says. "Just a little friendly welcome, Number Nine." The others are always using the hierarchy as an excuse to give him stupid orders; he doesn't see why he shouldn't get IX used to the idea, too.

Demyx shakes his head. "It's not -- friendly if I don't -- come on, back off -- want you to." He brings his hands up, curling them in the front of Axel's coat, pushing ineffectually. "You're hot and all, but -- fuck, what's wrong with asking first?"

"Quit whining," Axel says. He leans in close and bites at the cool skin just under Demyx's perfect jaw line. Demyx makes a little half-swallowed noise and struggles, which is fucking hot, and his skin tastes like rain. Axel purrs, and bites harder.

And then Demyx hisses something that Axel doesn't quite catch -- it sounds like the last word is /dance/.

All at once the scent of rain is overpowering, and then there are hands all over him, cool and wet, dragging Axel away from Demyx, holding onto him, pulling him down -- fluid, half-transparent copies of Demyx, not quite solid but close enough that Axel can't just pull away. "What the /fuck/, Demyx?"

"You wanted to get friendly, right?" Demyx asks. His voice is shaky, his pupils huge. "We can do that. But we're going to do it my way."

"You son of a bitch," Axel says admiringly. The kid's terrified, but he's not backing down. "Fine, we'll do it your way. Now let me up."

Demyx shakes his head, reaching for his zipper. "I don't think so," he says. "I'm not sure I trust you, Axel."

Axel smirks. "Smartest thing you've said yet," he says. "But we still have a hierarchy here, and you're breaking the rules. Disobeying an order from a senior member is treason, kid."

"Yeah?" Demyx says. He waves his hand, and his water clones start tugging at Axel's clothes. "You want to go tell Xemnas about this? Seriously? /Wah, I went to take advantage of the new boy, and instead I wound up on my back/?" He shrugs out of his coat, and it slides down off his shoulders to the ground. "You wanted to do this, so let's do it. But I'm not going to let you hurt me."

The water things -- demyces, Axel thinks, is that the plural of Demyx? -- should be easy to break free of, should be /weak/, but they cling to his limbs, weighing him down, and he's not going anywhere. He can't even burn the damn things. He's not going to underestimate IX again. "Fine," he says. "Do your worst."

"I think you've got me wrong," Demyx says. He kicks off his boots, unbuttons his pants and slides out of them with a roll of his hips like he's dancing. "I don't like hurting. I don't think."

Axel almost tells him to leave his gloves on, but that seems too much like cooperating.

The kid looks good, though -- skinny, but pretty, his hipbones almost as sharp as his cheekbones, his shoulders a little more developed than Axel would have expected. He's not really hard yet, but he looks like he's thinking about it.

He sinks to his knees and crawls forward, and his little minions slide out of the way, so he can lean over Axel with their bare flesh just inches from touching. "Do you kiss?" he says.

Axel stares at him. "Are you serious?"

"I'll take that for a yes," Demyx says with a little smile, the kind that Axel would describe as light-hearted if he were feeling -- as he often is -- sarcastic. Then Demyx is kissing him, and Axel thinks he'd better hold onto his sarcasm, because one of them needs to remember what's going on here.

Which is that they're a couple of Nobodies satisfying some instincts, and maybe having an indirect discussion about the balance of power between them. Even if Demyx is doing that mostly with his tongue in Axel's mouth, his lips soft and almost sweet, his eyes closed and his lashes surprisingly dark against his skin. He starts moaning after a minute, rocking his hips, still not touching Axel anywhere but their mouths. His water clones aren't so much holding Axel down now as petting him, touching him wherever they've pulled his uniform back, like they're exploring, or something.

Axel gives it another minute, trying not to pay too much attention to the way Demyx's little moans make his cock twitch, and then pulls, hard.

Only the water demyces don't lose their grip. Instead they clamp down again, holding tighter, and the real Demyx -- okay, comparatively speaking, real -- sits back and opens his eyes. "I'm still paying attention," he says. "Just because I'm, ah, having fun...." He's still pushing backward, and his eyelids flutter for a second. Axel tries to sit up to see what exactly the kid is doing to himself.

One of the water clones is kneeling behind Demyx, and Axel could swear it's licking the kid open. "Kinky," he says appreciatively.

Demyx smiles. "See?" he says. "We can both have a good time."

He's totally missing the point if he thinks this is about having a good time, but Axel figures that mentioning that can wait until later. Right now he's not in a good position to argue, and besides, Demyx is crawling up on top of him, planting knees on either side of Axel's rib cage, and if this isn't quite the position Axel had in mind, at least it's still more or less the same activity.

There's a moment, when Demyx has just gotten them positioned but hasn't quite pushed down yet, where the anticipation -- the wanting -- is almost strong enough to count as feeling. Axel takes a breath to say something, to ruin the moment, and then Demyx rocks down around him and all he manages to do is make a really stupid sounding noise.

"Yeah," Demyx says, like he's agreeing with the stupid noise, or something, and smiles. There's something weird about his smile, like he means it. "Yeah, like this." He starts to move, and whoever he used to be must have gotten around, because Demyx fucks like a pro. He moves almost like a Dusk -- not that Axel has ever screwed one of them -- slinky and sinuous, too flexible for an ordinary human. Axel wonders what Demyx's battalions will be called, what they'll look like, when the kid has recruited some followers of his own. If he'll even need to, when he can make water dance to his tune like this.

The water clones are moving, too, their wet, cool hands sliding over Axel's skin -- like they're touching him everywhere Demyx can't reach, or something. Only they're touching Demyx, too, draping themselves over him, half-transparent and squirming, stroking and licking.

"You're kind of a pervert, aren't you, kid?" Axel says, pushing up with his hips, feeling how Demyx yields for him, slippery and tight and warm.

Demyx laughs. It's a happy sound. "You think so?" His eyes fall half-shut, and Axel thinks for a really disorienting second of a cream-colored tabby that his Other used to feed sometimes -- and then he's jarred right out of the memory by the watery hands that slide up the inside of his thighs and don't stop until they're way too friendly. Cool fingers feel where Axel's cock disappears into Demyx, then trace their way down, over Axel's balls, further back --

"No," Axel says. "You're so not."

"Why not?" Demyx asks. He parts his lips, and one of his clones slides two fingers into his mouth to stroke his tongue.

A second later the clone between Axel's legs does what it was threatening to. Axel hisses, but it doesn't actually hurt -- the copy-demyces aren't any more nasty than the original. It feels wrong to have the water clone's fingers up his ass, but no more wrong than, say, walking around with no heart, and a lot more interesting. "Fuck," Axel says, and if Demyx says a word about the way his thighs are trembling, he'll make the kid pay. "Your Other did this a lot, huh?"

Demyx falters for a second, his clone taking its fingers out of his mouth to pet his hair instead, and Axel files that away for future reference. "Yeah, I guess," Demyx says, and then he smiles again, bright and confident. "I'm good at it?"

"If you're looking for compliments," Axel says, "you're in the wrong Organization." Still, when both versions of Demyx, the one on him and the one in him, start moving in sync, it takes work not to curse out loud. The rest of the water clones pick up the rhythm, stroking and petting, searching his skin for sensitive spots, fingers trailing over his face and sliding into his mouth. He bites down, the first time they do that, and then almost chokes and has to swallow a mouthful of water in a hurry -- and then they're just pushing back in again, like they were never damaged.

They are having that conversation about power after all, Axel realizes, only the point is different than he expected it to be. He could almost hate the kid for it, except that hate takes a lot of work when you start with a handicap like Axel's, and this isn't really such a bad way to be reminded of the difference between yielding and losing.

Fine, he can deal with this. They can, in fact, do this Demyx's way this time. Axel quits fighting and starts trying to move with Demyx's rhythm instead, and Demyx moans sweetly, shivering. One of the water clones leans down in the space between them, sucking Demyx off, and that looks totally fucking weird, Demyx's cock still visible through the liquid distortion of the clone's head. This is nothing like human sex -- or at least, nothing like the sex Axel remembers from when he was human. The kid might need a lesson or two in taking orders, but Axel is willing to admit, at least to himself, a little grudging respect for Demyx's stubbornness.

That, and the slick heat of his ass.

Axel makes an impatient noise, the clearest sound he can manage around the fingers that are -- that are definitely not fucking his mouth, thank you -- and snaps his hips upward, trying to make Demyx move faster.

"Yeah?" Demyx says. He sounds breathless, and his eyes are bright. "You like it? You want to come in me, Axel?" He rocks his hips harder, fucking himself, his cheeks flushed pink, his skin wet from the touch of his clones.

Of course I do, you arrogant little slut, Axel isn't free to say, but it doesn't matter, because Demyx can probably read it in every move he makes -- his skin feels too tight, tension humming through his limbs. It feels so good right now that it almost doesn't matter that his heart's missing -- and that thought actually startles him into coming, into letting his guard down for a few bright brilliant seconds where what he has is enough.

And finishing first means he can watch, means he can see what it looks like when Demyx's confidence breaks -- when the kid loses control, falling forward to catch himself against Axel's shoulders, and moaning, shuddering through it -- and all the water forms ripple and dissolve, too, so first Axel is coughing again and then he's just /wet/, lying there in a puddle with Demyx collapsed and trembling on top of him.

Axel counts to nine, since it seems like a good number, and then pokes Demyx in the ribs. "Get up," he says.

Demyx jumps, and then scrambles up out of Axel's lap in a hurry. "Sorry," he says, backing off, tense and nervous like he's expecting an attack. Good instincts, really.

"Calm down," Axel says, and smiles in a way that he's pretty sure will make it hard for Demyx to do so. "You won this round." He sits up, and does his best to pull his completely sodden uniform back on. It's kind of a lost cause, so it's a good thing he's only a quick stroll through darkness away from his own rooms.

"Uh," Demyx says. "Thanks?" He looks like he's already worked out how that might not, in the long run, be a good thing.

Axel keeps smiling. "Don't mention it," he says.

He's already making plans for next time.