MAIN OFFENDER.
Main Offender
Demyx/Zexion.
Chapter 1/?
Demyx is the new guy at school but Zexion could seriously care less. Demyx aims to fix this, but quickly finds himself failing over and over again.
He was new. That's really all there was to him; that’s all there was to anyone who was new at a high school, anywhere ever. That was also all that anyone needed to know to form some kind of firm yet easily excusable opinion about him.
No one wants to be responsible for breaking in the new kid; if he ends up being a loser? You can't dump him- now you’re both stuck. He wants to be your friend forever because no one else stuck their neck out long enough to see if he was worth it.
Except Roxas. The guy was all bright eyes and half smiles. He remembered what it was like being the new guy and saddled up to him first period biology after their teacher forced a “Hi my name is Demyx I just moved here” out of him in front of the class. They had the next two periods together and Roxas told him to find him at lunch. They chatted long enough to find that they had playing the guitar in common, both of them only children with odd afflictions to eggplants. Roxas offered to photocopy his notes and pass them along so he could get caught up when one of the teachers insisted on it. Demyx was thankful for Roxas.
But he was new, so they eyed him down before he could sit.
They were an odd looking bunch; not weird in a traditional high school sense- they gave off the impression of loose bits of lint caught in the change in your pocket. They didn’t stick out, but they certainly didn’t belong anywhere else.
"Demyx!" Roxas said, waving enthusiastically. He sat down. The rest were still eying him.
Larxene (quick witted, foul mouthed) was the first to point him out and make it difficult.
“I had art with you earlier, didn’t I?” her bright eyes and the contact they made with his made up for her lack of stature. She held her head in her hands, leaning over to inspect him.
“The class we literally just had? Yes,” He paused, looking to Roxas for some kind of help, but he shrugged.
"So what is that," she said, waving her hand up and down him, ignoring his response. "Your hair. Is it a mohawk or what?"
He took a moment but finally muttered something in response, absently running his hand along the furry sides of his head. It was . . . at one point, but he hadn't exactly been taking care of it. Moving and all that. Couldn't find his clippers. He muttered about half of this before she cut him off, laughing, "What a douche,"
Demyx seemed insulted, but everyone else’s lack of acknowledgement told him that her taunting was nothing out of the ordinary. Marluxia (equally quick witted but quietly intimidating, clearly condescending. Gave the impression he was going to go home and blog about you) was the next to speak up.
"I think it looks fine. What's your name again?" he said, not glancing up from his salad he was absently prodding at.
"Demyx,"
"Charmed," he responded a little too quickly. Larxene laughed.
Axel (tall, pencil shaped, sarcastic but well meaning) began poking at Roxas, muttering something about a girl. Roxas, flushing, kept trying to dodge the subject, attempting to come back to his friendly banter with Demyx.
"This is Axel," Roxas snarled, tearing himself away from him. By punching him in the ribs. "He’s an asshole."
"It's true!" Axel said, flashing a grin and rubbing the spot where Roxas hit him. The others were introduced in a similar fashion; Xion (home schooled, bad at socializing and uncomfortable in literally every situation, according to Axel) smiled and waved but said nothing. "Uhhhh lesse; Luxord is out with mono, Saix is a piece of shit," Saix, (easily annoyed, serious and largely rude), was present at the table and busy highlighting notes. "We're missing Xigbar and Xaldin--"
"They're at lacrosse,"
"Right, right. Okay so they're busy handling balls-" Axel was clearly the only one that found this funny but laughed anyway "- uhhh and that little twiggy dude at the end there is Zexion and his man servant Lexeaus."
The two at the end didn't look up upon being introduced, as if it were common of Axel to introduce them as if they were part of a sitcom; twiggy and man servant. Wah wah wahhhhh.
Surely enough, Axel's interpretations were fairly accurate. The two were in stark contrast; Zexion looked like the sort of guy who rode the fence between studying too much and excessive Weezer listening. Opposite him was a small mountain disguised as a high school boy in a sweater. Demyx wasn’t aware mountains could wear sweaters, but here was proof. How about that.
"What're you reading?" Demyx said suddenly, feeling the need to acknowledge him in some manner.
Zexion glanced up. They made eye contact for a flicker of seconds. He said nothing and went back to reading.
"Oh ignore him, he's a sour puss." Axel said, rolling his eyes. "The dude has openly admitted he hates all of us. I mean. Come on. What's to hate?"
Xion giggled. Axel smirked at her and patted her on the head.
Axel went back to bothering Roxas about something in a hushed voice, and the others fell back into their regiments. Demyx was left alone with a sandwich and half a banana. He glanced at Zexion again. Zexion had been looking at him, and immediately looked back down at his book.
He was new, but he slid into daily life easily. Two weeks in and it was clear he was one of them and that was nice; even Larxene had barked “hug, asshole” when she had to leave art early for a doctors appointment. He eventually met Xigbar and Xaldin, (both dark haired, smiling too much and laughing about nothing; Xigbar with twine-esq strings of muscle down his arms, Xaldin with large gobs of them) and they told him to come to the lacrosse game with the others. They didn’t ask so much as demand, so he didn’t argue. He again looked to Roxas for a yay or nay on the situation.
“Sporing events aren’t bad. We’ll see you there?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
So, that night, cold and kind of bored, he was standing on the sidelines of what was normally the soccer field. He didn’t quite know the mechanics of the game but kept his eyes on the grunting blurs with their school colors on. He clapped and whooped where appropriate. He checked his phone more than necessary for messages he knew he wasn’t going to get. At one point he met a red eyed and pale Luxord, who introduced himself as "I guess they told you I had mono.” Demyx laughed and apologized for his misfortune at being out of school for nearly a month and they talked briefly. He spotted someone closer to the sidelines, and excused himself to nonchalantly “run into” him.
For what seemed like the umpteenth time, Demyx attempted conversation with Zexion. Over the past two weeks he had done nothing but said hello, smiled, waved, inquired about what he was reading, complimented his seemingly limitless supply of argyle sweaters. He’d tried almost everything, either to be ignored or told “No, thanks.” But if there was anything Demyx knew about himself it was that he could be persistent. And he was allergic to strawberries. He was persistently allergic to strawberries.
"Doesn't seem much your scene," he said coolly, sliding up next to him. He didn’t bother even looking at him. Just conversation. Whatever.
It was fall and it was, therefore, very cold. Not the sort of “cold” he was used to in California. Colorado didn’t fuck around. Despite the giant coat he was wearing, the wind was whipping angrily at his face and it took the salvaging of anything manly he had in him not to cover his face with his hands.
Zexion (ever intelligent, wearing a scarf) glanced up at him, calculating an answer. He was holding a camera and motioned at it.
"I'm on the school newspaper." He replied. He could barely hear him over the wind, but his tone seemed less than fascinated with the topic, but that wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. He kept pretending not to hear when Demyx did muster the bravery to undoubtedly get shot down again, but they always made eye contact for brief seconds before someone would roll their eyes and say something about how Zexion was deaf and not to bother.
“Oh uh," he paused. "Neat."
Their school apparently scored as the crowd (not as big as a football gathering, he was told, but still large enough to make a lot of noise) erupted. Demyx clapped his numb hands together and whooped appropriately. He could make out Xaldin and Xigbar holding their sticks above their heads and smiling at them. Even Larxene and Marluxia (who, as far as he could tell, showed up to these sorts of events simply to have something to complain about or someone to gossip about later on in the week) managed some polite applause. Marluxia muttered something in her ear and she giggled.
Demyx looked back. Zexion had left. He glanced to his other side, behind him.
"Who're ya looking for?" Axel inquired, cocking an eyebrow.
“Where the hell did you come from?” Demyx yelped. When he spun his head back around, he wasn’t expecting Axel to be standing there.
“Oh, you know. Around,” he said, twirling his finger. “What’re you doing?”
“Dropped my phone,” Demyx replied, the minor heart attack sinking way. Axel stared at him. “It was in my pocket! Hah! Whole time. Silly me.”
"Uh-huh," Axel replied, cocking his head slightly. “Anyway, we’re gonna go hang out, you wanna join?”
Demyx glanced around for Zeixon one more time. "Nah, I've got some stuff to do."
Three weeks in and the novelty of being the new guy was officially gone, as was his excuse. They’d just got the paper they’d turned in last week back, the teacher laying them face down on their respective desks as he made rounds through the class talking about subject matter. Demyx didn’t dare look at it.
“Please tell me I at least passed you,” he muttered to it after class, gingerly lifting the edge of it.
“Lol no,” it replied. He groaned. It looked like a pen had stabbed itself to death (rather dramatically) over it, and the teachers sole note at the end; "Talk to me after class," He thankfully wasn't the only one. He was referred to the basement library where the tutors worked during lunch hours and was promised extra credit for going.
He saw Roxas in the hall and explained.
"Nah, I've had to do it a few times," Roxas said, shrugging. "Just do it and get it over with.”
“Not bad at all?”
“Nah, they stick you with the library aids in the basement and they tell you you’re an idiot and it’s over. No biggie,” Roxas shot him one of the endearing half smiles he did when he didn’t know what else to say.
“We’ll see you later?”
“Yeah, later.”
The school library was in a separate building. Large with high ceilings; not ones that reminded him hallowed halls of literature, but rather an old barn that would be easy to hang yourself from the rafters of. He wondered if owls lived up there. He wondered if he could take one home as a pet.
The librarian directed him downstairs, and Demyx flinched because he didn’t think Roxas literally meant he would be in a basement. She was almost smirking when she told him to maybe bring a sweater next time. Librarians had it out for him.
“Down I go,” he muttered to himself, approaching the concrete stairwell. “That’s what she said.”
It looked like some kind of dusty space for books that didn’t fit upstairs; ancient reference books the size of his leg lined every inch of the walls. He quickly located a door with a cardboard sign that read “Tutor is in. Please knock” in clean handwriting and a thought completely based on handwriting crossed his mind. He knocked, and, sure enough, cup of tea in hand-
“Demyx.” Zexion said deadpan. Demyx tried not to cough when he said his name; he knew it?
"Hey," Demyx said, waving lightly. He almost expected him to be angry or mutter an ‘oh fuck no' or something, but this wasn’t a sitcom and Zexion simply stared at him for a moment before inviting him into the room. He pointed to a table and waited for him to talk.
“Richards sent me. Uhh, this-“ he handed him the paper, which had been rolled into a sort of tube in his palms “-happened.”
Zexion unrolled it and glanced over it. He never looked up.
It was very businesslike. He took a few minutes reading it and underlining things the teacher had already underlined and commented on, underlining a few things she hadn't. He asked why he wrote certain things, pointing to the text, and either underlined them again, circled them, or crossed them out.
"English isn't my strong point," Demyx muttered, smirking lightly and shrugging. Zexion made eye contact with him, which frankly made Demyx simultaneously shit and send his heart a flutter.
"Neither was I until I tried.” he replied, simply. Apparently feeling a little guilty about the comment, he finished with “English and writing papers is about time. Giving yourself time to research and re-read it and re-read it until it’s quality,” Demyx nodded, a bit consoled by the advice.
Alone in a library office with him, Demyx realized this was the first time he was able to hear him properly. He articulated every word. He didn’t pretend not to hear him. His face suddenly felt very warm. Zexion made some notes on the back in his clean but angular handwriting, briefly making eye contact again.
"Come back Wednesday. Show me what you changed."
Demyx agreed with a nod. Zexion was already ignoring him again by the time he was to the door.
"I'll see you Wednesday then,"
He didn't reply.
He had his paper turned back in and got it back with a B+. His teacher was smiling and telling him "that wasn't even with the extra credit,"
Demyx wished he had theme music to dance around to, but settled on humming ‘walking on sunshine’ on his way to art. He told Larxene, who told him she “couldn’t care less”, but she looked up and smiled at him from her sketchbook.
Lunchtime had never brought so much joy. "Got a B+ on the paper," Demyx said, beaming.
"Very exciting,” Zexion replied, not looking up from the textbook he was reading. Well, that wasn’t expected. Demyx couldn't tell if it was sarcastic or earnest due to his deadpan, but was thankful nonetheless.
"So uh. Thanks. I appreciate it." Demyx said shrugging. The puff in his chest from getting a good grade was replaced with a pack of wild ferrets doing laps around the insides of his stomach.
"I'm literally just doing my job,"
Demyx, satisfied with forcing Zexion into conversation, sat down. Zexion glanced up at him, and across to Lexeaus, who smiled and shook his head. Zexion mouthed “fuck off” and winked at him.
“You wish,” Lexeaus muttered.
Their friendship had always been odd. When he’d taken up the job as library aid and eventually volunteer tutor his first year of high school, Lexaeus was a year ahead of him but needed help. Zexion, who ate lunch in the library basement everyday anyway, was thankful for the company, even though he was just fixing his paper. Neither of them spoke much.
"You have interesting tone,” Zexion said, making a lap over his paper for the third time. He couldn’t place it.
"I read a lot of Plato." Lexaeus replied, pushing a dull pencil around the table with his finger. Chasing it. "Trying to write in a modern tone when I'm reading classics hasn't worked out well for me,”
And so, they became friends.
"He seems really . . . invested,” Lexeaus muttered, touching his hand to his chin the way he did when he was thinking. The library basement was quiet that afternoon.
"He's still the new guy,” Zexion replied, flatly. “He's going to try to impress whoever he can."
“He doesn't look like he's trying to impress you, he looks like he just wants you talking to him.”
“Maybe 'make an impression' is a better term,” Zexion said, making holes in the Styrofoam cafeteria plate with a fork, creating a pattern around his sandwich. It looked ceremonial; all hail the turkey club with extra lettuce. “He seems like he's trying a little to hard for the 'loveable dope' whether he realizes it or not," a pause. "It’s obnoxious,"
“You just don't have a sense of humor," Lexeaus said, leaning back in his chair, popping his back. He rolled his head back and forth to pop his neck. “Ridiculously unfunny. You’ve never laughed a day in your life,”
“Oh? How would you know?” Zexion said, cupping his chin in his hand.
“Takes one to know one," Lexeaus replied, fanning his fingers out over his chest and attempting to look dignified. “From one unfunny dick to another, brothers in arms,”
Zexion laughed. “We need a crest,”
The bell rang and the two stood, gathering their things and prepared to head to class. Zexion insisted he proceed without him, he had books to reshelf. He waved and watched him ascend the stairs.
He found himself suddenly frustrated with Demyx. He’d been at school there for what, almost a month? He was still trying to get to know him, still trying to be his friend. He wasn’t interested. He had a friend; and yeah, one didn’t seem like much but he vastly preferred quality to quantity. Frustrated as he was, maybe he was being rude? Maybe if he responded in a positive light in some way, Demyx would quit viewing him as a challenge and knock off the lost puppy routine.
“I’m not lonely,” he said aloud for no reason other than convincing himself, shoving books back on the shelves violently. He had Lexeaus, he even hung out with his sisters, sometimes. He liked books and he didn’t mind people, but why, why was this guy so stuck on him?
A thought occurred to him, a flush crept up his neck and he quickly ignored it and went to class.
Aaaaaand--
I'll come right out and say it; I decided to write for this pairing because I hate it. Admitably it's grown on me since I started writing it, but it's hard to attempt to keep them in character. I tried to a point, but if I remember anything from "Romeo and Juliette Syndrome" (which I'll edit and finish someday soon) it was people flipping every inch of their shit over the abuse of their favorites. I tried to keep them both in character to a degree; Demyx is impossible to keep in character and still like. Writing AU's is difficult.
Regardless!
We'll see where it goes as it progresses.