A/N: I originally intended to post this on the day it was written for--Dexion Day, a.k.a. yesterday--but New York got in the way. (I went to New York for the West Indian Day parade and didn't get back until early this morning.) So here's my contribution to Dexion Day, a cute little one-shot that I hope you guys like! Um, have fun reading, and...get your Dexi on! (yes, I went there. :3)
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It was a rare sensation that he relished in every time he experienced it, the feeling of being so close to life and death at the same time. It gripped his at his very soul, twisting and wrenching, making his heart beat furiously in anticipation, though for what, he never really knew. The wind whipped around his body, egging him on, leaving him teetering on edge. To glance down from the dizzying height of 28 stories made him lose his breath and focus. It was a feeling he loved, and it was the same feeling he got whenever Demyx was around.
A small smile crossed his face. Looking down to the street from where he stood on the edge of the rooftop, he could see the headlights of passing cars and, if he focused enough, the slow currents of movement indicative of people traversing the sidewalks. He watched them curiously, wondering briefly if any of them would look up and see him, and what they would think of his being there. They'd probably think I'm suicidal and insane, he mused, entertaining the thought for only a moment. Many of his friends already thought the same of him, so what did it matter to him if another stranger did as well? Demyx never thought that of him, and that was all that mattered.
Everything seemed so small and insignificant from his perch, and he liked that. It meant that he could think about things that really mattered...like chaos theory and quarks. A light chuckle broke the quiet for a moment. No, that wasn't why he came up here almost daily. He had Vexen if he wanted to discuss the phenomenon of genetic diseases or how to increase a person's glial cell count. Up here so high, where it was silent and cold, his mind was free to reflect on the deeper things in his life, the paradoxes and quandaries. Things like...human nature, and love. Uninterrupted, with no nuisances or distractions, especially De—
The catch and creak of a heavy door carefully being opened drifted across the silence, and Zexion let out a sigh.
Demyx slipped through the door, taking care not to let his sitar case drag on the ground. Gazing across the pavement, he easily spotted Zexion atop the ledge, shadowed against the night sky. With a half-smile draped on his lips, he made his way over to him, sitting cross-legged on on the ground. With graceful hands, he removed his beloved sitar from its case, tuning it to a pitch only he could hear.
Zexion refused to turn around as Demyx began playing a light, nonsensical tune that he had made up on the spot. After a few moments, the sitarist frowned, and began a new song. “There was a boy,” he sang softly, “a very strange, enchanted boy.”
Zexion let an unseen smile stretch across his face. The first time the other had shown him his sitar, Zexion had stupidly asked, “As in Moulin Rouge?” It was the first time he had ever seen one in real life, and the comment was said thoughtlessly. But Demyx never teased him about it; instead, he had picked up the instrument and played a few songs from the movie singing in his beautiful, husky, tenor voice. Like he was now.
“And though we spoke of many things, fools and kings, this he said to me,” sang Demyx, trailing off into laughter. “'Kay then, I guess we'll have to try something else. Um, let's see...” He glanced up to the sky, and then repositioned his fingers on the strings, starting another song.
“And if I had something to say to you, I'd whisper it softly, kiss you on your rosy lips and never let you off me,” he sang while strumming. “Shiver on a roof and watch your face lit by starlight...nothing? Really?”
Zexion had to resist the urge to turn around, instead settling for shifting his stance on the ledge. The first time he had realized he had feelings that were more than friendly for Demyx was when the dirty blond had forced him to dance at a club, and this song was playing. If he wanted to, Zexion could still hear Demyx's breathless voice singing in his ear, taste the saltiness of the blond's skin as he unconsciously caressed his neck with his lips.
“Okay...how about this one? You'll love this, I know it,” said Demyx happily. He started into the familiar riff. “Hey there, Delilah, what's it like in New York City? I'm a thousand miles away, but girl, tonight you look so pretty,” he sang. “Yes, you do.”
Zexion always felt guilty when he heard Demyx sing this song. The one and only time he had ever left the blond's side was when he left for his freshman year at Columbia University. Demyx had decided to stay in Pennsylvania and attend a college there, separating the two for the first time in their lives. Zexion would easily admit that he had cried over it; never in front of the blond, but many nights during his freshman year, alone in his dorm.
“Oh, it's what you do to me-e-e, oh, it's what you do to me,” Demyx sang, lost in his own world.
It took him nearly his entire freshman year to get over life without Demyx by his side, and then Demyx turned him right back upside down by showing up in person to announce to him that he'd gotten into Julliard, and would start the next fall semester. They never left each other's side since.
“A thousand miles is pretty far, but they've got planes, and trains, and...well, you're not even listening, so you know what? Next song,” Demyx decided, “and this time, you will look at me.” He set aside his sitar, stood up, and sang as loud as he could without sounding like a candidate for euthanasia.
“IF YOU WERE GAY, THAT'D BE OKAY! I MEAN, CAUSE, HEY! I'D LIKE YOU AN-Y-WAY!”
Zexion spun around on his heel, forgetting where he was standing and nearly losing his balance. He gasped as he quickly stumbled from the ledge and turned towards Demyx.
“I WOULD FEEL FREE TO SAY THAT I WAS GAY,” Demyx shouted, “BUT I'M NOT GAY! I'M HAPPY, JUST BEING—”
Sprinting across the gravel, Zexion was fully prepared to do whatever it took to make the blond shut up.
“--SHOULD IT MATTER TO ME, WHAT YOU DO IN BED—ooof!” Demyx went down hard as Zexion tackled him to the ground, but he recovered quickly, rolling over to pin Zexion with a smile on his face. “I win,” he said breathlessly.
Zexion rolled his eyes and pouted. “Whatever,” he mumbled. Demyx stopped singing that asinine song, so as far as he was concerned, Zexion marked it a victory for himself.
Demyx giggled, knowing exactly what Zexion was thinking. Though, he couldn't blame him. He had sung that song for three weeks non-stop when Zexion refused to admit that he was gay.
He shifted to the side when Zexion laid a hand on his chest and pressed lightly, propping himself up on his elbows to watch as Zexion strode over to the ledge and effortlessly hopped back up. There were days when he couldn't believe that he was blessed with someone like Zex, and times like this reminded him of that. The way they understood each other like it was second nature, when no one else could seem to get what was going on. The way he would never feel anything more comforting than Zexion's embrace, never see anything more satisfying than his face, never hear anything more soothing than his quiet voice. The way his mere presence made life itself make sense.
Demyx stood and dusted his palm on his jeans. The crunch of the gravel beneath his sneakers was the only warning he gave to Zexion as he sat on the ledge beside him. He sat there quietly for a few minutes, faintly feeling the warmth from Zexion's legs next to him.
“Hey, Zex,” he finally said. “You ever wonder why cows moo?”
Zexion frowned and narrowed his eyes. He paused to consider the question, and, more importantly, who was asking it, before replying, “Cows don't have the same vocal capacities nor the linguistic developm—”
Demyx shook his head emphatically. “No, no, not how cows say moo, why cows say moo,” he clarified.
Rolling his dark blue eyes to the even darker sky, Zexion said, “No, Demyx, I can't say I have.”
Demyx nodded satisfactorily and continued on. “And have you ever wondered why they put Braille dots on the keypad at the drive-through ATM?”
At this, Zexion turned to raise and eyebrow at the blond.
“Just bear with me,” Demyx said.
“Fine. No, I haven't,” said Zexion.
“Have you ever wondered why kamikaze pilots wore helmets?”
“...no.”
“Have you ever wondered why we call 'Greenland', 'Greenland,' when it's actually covered in ice?”
Zexion sighed. “No, Demyx.”
“Have you ever wondered what exactly is the flavor of Juicy Fruit gum?”
“No.”
“And have you ever heard the wolf cry to the—”
“Is this going anywhere, besides a bad pun on a good Disney movie?” Zexion impatiently interrupted Demyx's list of questions.
Demyx chuckled quietly. “I had a conversation with Axel today.”
“That explains everything,” Zexion muttered darkly. He held no lost love for Demyx's ex-boyfriend, the man who'd taken Demyx's virginity. Though he tolerated him for Demyx's sake, Zexion would rather see the man at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean. Jealousy was such a bitch like that.
“He asked me why I'm with you,” said Demyx, giving Zexion a light tap on the leg. Zexion glanced down to him, eyebrow raised.
“And what did you tell him?”
“Exactly what I just asked you,” said Demyx. “Predictably, he said yes to more than one of them, but I made him say no to establish my point.”
Zexion closed his eyes and shook his head. “Which was...”
“Have you ever wondered why we're together?” Demyx looked up towards his boyfriend of...he didn't even know how long. They'd always been in each other's lives; it was hard to distinguish exactly when they made the transition from best friends to boyfriends.
Zexion considered this last question, and found that he couldn't answer positively. “No,” he finally said.
Demyx nodded. “Exactly. We're just...another one of those wondrous things, aren't we,” he stated. When Zexion didn't respond, he swung his legs back over the ledge and headed over to pack up his sitar.
Zexion turned and watched him from the ledge, wondering for not the first time how someone so seemingly random could be so incredibly deep. He waited until Demyx was finished before sneaking behind him to wrap his arms around the musician's waist.
Demyx turned in his embrace, throwing one arm around Zexion's neck and using the other to tilt his face upwards. “Love you, too,” he said softly, before giving him a gentle kiss.
What was meant to be a simple kiss quickly turned into more as Zexion tightened his hold on Demyx. Skilled fingers tangled in periwinkle hair, and two pairs of lips found solace in each other's warmth over and over again. Heated breaths quickly transpired between the two, somehow saying everything where words simply failed. Demyx had a strong feeling he would have taken his lover right there on the rooftop, had it not been for the untimely vibration of Zexion's phone in his pocket.
Burying his face in Zexion's neck, Demyx could only laugh softly as Zexion checked his caller ID in annoyance. “What's so funny,” he murmured.
“Nothing,” said Demyx, “just—have you ever wondered why people always seem to call at the most inopportune moments?”
Zexion chose to ignore the call. “I suppose it's yet another one of those wondrous things,” he said with a small grin.
And the cold, calm silence of the rooftop was broken by the clear and uninhibited laughter of two people in love.
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A/N: The songs "Nature Boy", "Colordao Sunrise", "Hey There Delilah", and "If You Were Gay" do not belong to me, nor do Dem and Zex. ^_^
