FicWad

The Better Part

"You know," Demyx says, "I hate to criticize the Superior's plans or anything, but. Um." He hesitates at the edge of the clearing, looking into the dark of the wood. "This place doesn't look so much like it's going to have anything to offer us."

"Ah, stop it," Xigbar says. "You're breaking my heart."

Demyx gets about halfway through saying, "I'm sorry," before he realizes that Xigbar is teasing him, and changes his strategy to glaring instead.

"/Any/way," Xigbar goes on, but he's grinning and Demyx likes the way he grins. "You might not like it, and I might wish we had Axel along to burn a path through this crap," and the wave of his hand is totally dismissive, totally /cool/, like the brooding black forest doesn't bother him at all, "but orders are orders, right? This world is hitting critical mass with the Heartless presence, and Saix has a pretty good record at predicting where we'll find more high-functioning Nobodies, so."

"I know," Demyx says. "I just. Ick."

"Tell me about it," Xigbar says, starting into the dense forest.

Demyx has nothing against trees on principle -- plants need water, right, and both of them are more generally associated with life than otherwise. Still, there are times when water is just for drowning in, and there are times when the forest is off-limits for a reason. The trees seem to claw at them, making Xigbar curse when they snag his hair, making Demyx flinch when branches whip back into him harder than they should. The forest doesn't want them here, and Demyx kind of thinks it has the right idea.

"So, hey," he says, to distract himself, "how did the Heartless come to this world, anyway?"

"Same old story," Xigbar says. "Some power-hungry bitch got it in her head that messing around with Darkness would be a good plan. One thing leads to another, and all that." His tone sounds kind of dry, a little like he's making a joke at his own expense.

"Uh," Demyx says, "right," because discretion is the better part of valor and he's done real well so far at just not asking for details about how the Organization started. "You, uh, you think it'll be her? The new one?"

"Dunno," Xigbar says. He seems to be in a thoughtful mood, because he goes on, "I'm betting not, though, based on the last few cases -- you guys didn't seem connected to it, in your worlds. Which is kind of interesting, really."

"Yeah?" Demyx says, ducking a branch, jogging a few steps so he doesn't fall behind. Dyme had a history professor who was a little like Xigbar, who'd think out loud for hours with a little encouragement, and Demyx thinks at the very least it's way better than the creepy silence of the forest.

"Yeah," Xigbar says. "Like -- it takes a lot of drive to bring 'em in, right? You gotta really want it. So why don't those guys manage to hold on to --" and he stops, head cocked, looking into the dark.

"What is it?" Demyx asks, as quietly as he can. It's one of those weird ironies that Xigbar's always the first to see trouble coming.

"Look out," Xigbar says, with a nasty little smile as he draws his guns. "Here they come."

Demyx doesn't ask twice, just reaches up, pulls the water in the air closer until there's enough to make his sitar take shape. He's never liked fighting, not like some of the others do, but he's not about to be useless, when he's been sent on a mission this important for once.

The Heartless that come through the trees are Shadows, the little ones that would be almost cute if you'd never seen them eat an entire arena's worth of people. They're spilling over each other, tumbling, crawling forward mindlessly, black claws grasping for purchase. None of them focus on Xigbar or Demyx for more than an instant, but they keep moving forward all the same. Xigbar fires repeatedly, bolts of crimson light that tear through the Shadows and make them dissolve into shreds. They'll be back soon enough, but fighting buys time.

Not enough time, not even with the way Xigbar can make his bolts ricochet off empty air to strike wherever he needs them. This world is in its death throes, as too many Heartless forage too far, consuming every living thing in their way.

"Stay close," Demyx says, trying not to panic as the first wave of Shadows get close enough to paw at his limbs, empty-eyed and seeking.

"I ain't going to leave you," Xigbar says, still shooting.

Demyx curls his fingers into a difficult chord. "Not what I meant," he says. He brings his other hand down hard across the strings and the one nice thing about this world is it's /wet/, so he has plenty to work with and when he calls for a wall of water he gets it, crashing down hard around him and sweeping the Shadows away.

"Nice," Xigbar says in the second of breathing room that buys them. "Keep that up."

Demyx laughs nervously. "I'm so on it," he says. He keeps playing, raising waterjets around them to keep most of the Shadows off while Xigbar shoots any that are persistent enough to try to fight their way into the spray. It gives them a little island in the flood of the Heartless, and if they can just hold on, the mob should pass them by.

Still, his hand is cramping by the time the way in front of them clears. He shakes it out, wincing, as Xigbar scans the dark undergrowth of the forest.

"Don't get too comfortable yet," Xigbar says. "There could be more." He doesn't put his guns away, so despite how awkward it is Demyx keeps his sitar out, too. "Come on."

"Wait," Demyx says, "toward the trouble? There won't be anything left that way." Because Xigbar is heading deeper into the woods, where the Heartless have trampled down the underbrush as they passed.

"Nothing left with a heart," Xigbar says. "But that's where we'll find our boy."

Okay, that does make sense, in an awful way. Demyx follows. At least the forest doesn't mess with them so bad now that they're past the Heartless. "Hey," he says, "do girls ever become Nobodies?"

"What?" Xigbar says. "Course they do. A couple of my Snipers are girls. Or were."

"Not like that," Demyx says, and gives up on the sitar -- he just can't keep up with Xigbar's pace when he's lugging it around. "There's girl Dancers, too. I mean, do girls ever become Nobodies like /us/?"

"Don't see why not," Xigbar says, not looking back. "I mean, you'd think we'd have found one by now, but I'd be surprised if it never happened. Why, you want a girlfriend? I ain't enough for you anymore?"

"What? No. Don't be a --" Xigbar stops short, and Demyx runs into him. "More trouble?"

"Listen," Xigbar says. And as soon as they're both quiet, Demyx can hear it -- somewhere up ahead of them, snapping and snarling noises, the kind of thing he'd really rather head away from than toward. "Come on," Xigbar says.

It would suck, Demyx reminds himself, to be stuck in a dying world and surrounded by Heartless and not have anyone show up to help. And this is one of the first serious missions he's gotten to take on, so he really doesn't want to screw it up.

They find the trouble right at the edge of the forest, where the oppressive dark of the trees gives way to the red light of a dying sun. By the banks of a sludgy stream someone is still standing, trying to fight off the Heartless -- not Shadows this time, but something bigger and nastier, these twisted things that look like bark-covered wolves with bloody red emblems between their bright yellow eyes. They're pacing back and forth, trying to get close enough to attack, snarling each time the survivor -- okay, Nobody, probably, but he's human-shaped and on his feet, and Demyx calls that a victory -- lashes out at them with some kind of...whips, it looks like.

Xigbar starts shooting before the Heartless wolves have realized they're there.

"Oh, crap," Demyx says, because shooting at things usually makes them notice you really fast, and then the wolves are turning on them, too.

Out here where there's plenty of room, Xigbar doesn't hold still to fight, and doesn't even do it on the ground, mostly. He flickers, one spot to another, taking shots from midair. Okay, Demyx figures, Xigbar is going to draw the attention of the wolves, so that makes it his job to go collect the guy they're here for.

With his sitar in hand it's easy enough to use the river, to make a path of water that he can just slide down with a hurried melody as the wolves snap at him and howl. "You okay?" he asks as he lands beside the stranger, the riverbank mud sucking at his boots.

"I've been better," the stranger says. He lashes out at the wolves again with his whips, and Demyx realizes they're made of thorny vines. "What are they? And who are you?"

"They're Heartless," Demyx says, and then he has to pause to concentrate so he can play the melody that will send a jet of water into the wolf that's lunging at Xigbar. "And we're from the Organization. We're going to get you out of here."

And then even though he's clearly unsteady on his feet, and there's no way all that blood on his shirt came from the Heartless, the guy still tosses his hair out of his face and gives Demyx a condescending stare. "You think I need your help?"

The wolves are multiplying, slinking out of the woods, rising out of the mud as fast as the three of them can fight them off. Xigbar lands on the stranger's other side. "Your world's dying," he says. "Probably tonight. We can leave you here to get swallowed by darkness and hope you find a way out again, or we can take you with us and tell you what we know."

Just looking at him Demyx can tell the guy wants to argue or make deals or ask questions, something, because they always want to be difficult -- and then the wolves all sit back on their haunches and howl at once, and the guy stops. The ground under them shakes, slow and rumbling, and then the forest itself splits apart and starts to rise. Trees bristle like coarse fur along the back of the monstrous shape climbing to its feet in front of them, and its eyes burn like the dying sun. Its mouth opens to show off jagged quartz-boulder fangs, and its roar when it tosses its head is loud enough to rattle Demyx's bones.

"Oh /fuck/," Demyx says, because holding your own is one thing, but fighting castle-sized monsters is something totally different. "Don't tell me we're --"

"Getting the hell out of here," Xigbar says. He cocks his head, looks over at the guy they're here for. "You coming?"

"Yes," the guy says, staring at the world-eater. "I think I will."

Xigbar grins. "Good choice," he says, and Demyx is already opening a corridor for them, and the last thing he sees before he steps into the dark is Xigbar sliding an arm around the new Nobody's waist.

The dark paths are cool and silent, and even though he knows they're moving fast, to Demyx it always feels a little like being frozen, floating, not moving through space or time -- and then the darkness parts in front of them, unfolding so he can see the gleaming white of the castle ahead, and he pushes forward, because you have to really want to shake off the clinging weight of the darkness and --

And the solid impact of his boots against the floor is a relief, being back in real space with light and sound and gravity. Demyx feels his shoulders sag as he lets out a breath he must have been holding all the way from the black forest.

Behind him, Xigbar makes a harsh little effort noise, and Demyx looks back. Their new Nobody is slumped against Xigbar's side, head down, totally limp.

"Is he okay?" Demyx asks.

"He's had a rough day," Xigbar says, easing the guy down to the floor. "Lost his heart, got in a couple really bad fights, walked through darkness for probably the first time. He'll pull through." He snaps his fingers, and a Dusk rises to attention from the floor. "Go get Lex," Xigbar says. "Tell him we got a patient for him."

The Dusk salutes and disappears, and Demyx wonders for a second if he'll ever be that confident about giving orders to the rank and file. Xigbar makes it look easy.

It feels like they've barely waited any time at all before a new portal opens and Lexaeus steps out to meet them. The whole castle must have been waiting to hear how they did.

"How is he?" Lexaeus asks, kneeling beside Xigbar.

"In shock," Xigbar says, handing the stranger off. "Maybe injured, too. I'm not sure how much of that is his Other's blood." He gets to his feet, and Lexaeus does too, holding the new guy in his arms. "He was conscious and lucid until we left his world, though."

Lexaeus nods. "Thank you. We will tend to him." He summons another portal and leaves, carrying the new Nobody.

Xigbar looks over at Demyx, and grins. "Not bad," he says. "You got a pretty good head on your shoulders for somebody who says he's no good in a fight."

"Thanks," Demyx says. He felt mostly like he was just flailing and trying not to panic, but he knows better than to turn down a kind word when he gets it. "Is, um, this the part where we go report to the Superior?"

"Nah," Xigbar says. "This is the part where you invite me to come back to your rooms with you and get cleaned up."

"Oh," Demyx says, and smiles. He knows it's probably at least partly just because he has the nicest showers in the castle, but whatever. He likes the company. "You want to come back to my rooms, then?"

Xigbar pretends to think about it for a second. "Sure," he says. "I got nothing better to do right now." He waits, and lets Demyx open the pathway for them, one of those weird little politeness things that Demyx still only remembers about half the time -- any of them can go anywhere in the castle, but it's sort of considered bad form to go into somebody's own private room ahead of him.

So Demyx leads the way, through the dark to his rooms and then through the first hallway, with the beautiful acoustics, into his shower. The water comes on as soon as he thinks about it, splashing down against the cool blue-crystal floor as Demyx starts to strip out of his clothes.

"Mm, you don't ever do this shit halfway, do you?" Xigbar asks as he strips off -- everything but the eyepatch, he never takes that off -- and steps into the water, golden skin and dark scars and lean, gorgeous muscle.

"No point in acting like you're already dead, is there?" Demyx asks. He steps into the shower, and can't help a little happy sigh when the hot water hits his skin. He half expects Xigbar to point out that technically they are already dead, just too stubborn to act like it. But that argument wouldn't be any more fun than it's been the last three times he's had it with other Organization members, so Demyx decides to change the subject. "So the mission went pretty good, huh?" he says sliding his arms around Xigbar's waist.

Xigbar lets him get away with it. "Really good," he says. "We got what we were looking for, and it didn't cost us anything. Can't argue with results like that." He gets a hand in Demyx's hair and tugs him closer, and Demyx goes without complaint, leaning up to meet Xigbar's mouth for a kiss.

Any tension the water won't fix, this will, the slick warmth of Xigbar's skin against his, the darting tease of Xigbar's tongue in his mouth. This is part of choosing not to give up, too, just as much as not losing form and memory to the Heartless, and Demyx throws himself into it with all he's got, because he thinks Xigbar, out of all the others, might actually understand that. They still feel desire, still crave the contact, and Demyx pushes into the touch when Xigbar reaches down to take hold of his cock.

"Got you wound tight, huh?" Xigbar asks, stroking him slow and hard.

"Yeah, ah," Demyx says, sliding his hands down Xigbar's back, settling them at the sharp jut of his hipbones, "you, too."

Xigbar nods, and bites the tender spot under Demyx's jaw when Demyx tilts his head back. "Me, too. You done in here?"

"We could stay here," Demyx suggests, rocking slowly. The warm water and Xigbar's voice and Xigbar's touch --

"Not this time," Xigbar says. "The fucking floor in here would be hell on my knees."

For a second that doesn't make any sense, and then Demyx says, "/Oh/," and really he figures he can stand to give up the shower early just this once. "Okay, um, yeah."

The water stops as soon as Demyx doesn't need it anymore, and Xigbar doesn't entirely let go of him at any point as they stumble out to his bedroom, and that is, as far as Demyx is concerned, just /fine/. They tumble into bed, and it occurs to Demyx that maybe he'd rather the sheets weren't wet, so he pushes the water on their skin into the air -- and then Xigbar rolls him onto his back and slides down to lick at the head of his cock and he doesn't have the presence of mind for much of anything after that.

"Oh god," he says, "oh god oh," because it's not just the pleasure, Xigbar's mouth slick and hot and lush, it's the way he feels /anchored/, the way it centers him to feel something so strongly -- and he wants to move, wants to rock his hips and push deeper. "Please," he says, shivering, keening in his throat when Xigbar's teeth scrape the length of his shaft, his hands curling tight in the sheets.

But Xigbar does get it, so he probably wants just as bad as Demyx does right now. "Hey," Demyx says breathlessly, tugging on Xigbar's hair, "hey, come here, move."

Xigbar looks up, his lips flushed red, his expression hungry. "This ain't what you want?"

Demyx shakes his head. "No, I just -- I want to do it to you, too. Come on. Turn." Technically he's pretty sure he doesn't have any room to give orders to Xigbar, but lucky for him Xigbar doesn't seem to care about anything like that right now. Instead he just sits up, the mattress creaking under him as he turns to lie stretched out along the bed the other way, where Demyx can reach his cock.

And it's a nice cock, thick and hard between his legs, and Demyx can taste salt when he licks at it. He shifts his weight, gets the head between his lips, lets it start to slide down his throat, and Xigbar makes a low humming noise around his cock that he can feel. Demyx moans back, and takes it deeper, his lips curled over his teeth, his tongue pressed to Xigbar's shaft. Xigbar splays one broad hand across his ass and pulls him in deeper, so that he slides right down Xigbar's throat, and he shudders, presses closer, because he can't get enough, can't stand it, can't wait -- and when he comes, Xigbar drives deep into his mouth, swallowing him, and just for a minute right now it's enough, he feels enough, pressed as close to Xigbar as he can get and -- and then his mouth fills with bitter fluid as Xigbar comes for him, too, and it's good, he tells himself, it's good.

Afterward they just lie there for a few minutes, Xigbar's arm slung over Demyx's waist, Demyx's head pillowed on Xigbar's thigh. Demyx's jaw hurts a little, but he feels so loose-limbed and relaxed that it doesn't really matter.

"You know," Demyx says, tracing his fingertips along the arch of Xigbar's hip, "I would totally be okay with you just staying here for the rest of the night."

Xigbar laughs. "That's kind of too bad," he says. "Now probably is the part where we go report to the Superior. Lex should have a physical done by now, and we can all talk over what we know at once."

"Oh," Demyx says. "Damn." Xigbar doesn't move, though, so he doesn't either, not just yet. "After that, maybe, ah -- you want to come back here?"

Xigbar props himself up on one elbow, and manages a little half-shrug. "Well," he says, and grins. "If you insist."