YAAAAAY! Demyx and Zexion! They are very much for each other (69 dudes!!!) READ AND REVIEW! More later, I promise! Had fun!

Chapter One: No Way to Say

"Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Stop it."

Demyx stopped tapping the table. His fingers itched for his sitar and there was nothing to appease them in the nearly empty break room. Only himself, the report he was working on, and VI were present. Had it been anyone else, the Musical Nocturne would have been fine, but it was Zexion. Silver satin hair, crystal-eyed, fair-skinned, elegant, silent, sexy Zexion, whose praises begged to be sung. Alas, everyone knew Zexion hated music. Impaired and flustered, Demyx remained rereading the same line of his report.

"…So how old are you?" He didn't look up when he asked, he knew Zexion would be shooting him one despicable look or another, enraged that IX would dare address a superior so impertinently or that IX was daring to strike up a conversation. To his surprise, Zexion's tone was bored, even calm, unstrained and free of loathing.

"Twenty."

"Really? That's kind of young. I'm twenty four."

"I don't care," Zexion muttered, flipping a page of his book. Truly, he didn't care about IX's age, but he was surprised to be talked to. No one ever talked to him, only Vexen and Lexaeus, and Xemnas, who gave orders. Nobodies above him avoided the lowest member of the Superior Six, and the Nobodies below him paid just enough respect to not venture anything beyond a salutation. And then there was IX. Xemnas had complained many times, that he was the one who just didn't get it. Souls without hearts really meant souls without hearts. Maybe musicians were exempt from feeling the absence, but Zexion would never be able to quench his curiosity, it seemed, since the small talk was over and IX certainly wouldn't –

"Do you have a favorite drink or something?"

A blitz question – completely random and surprising Zexion enough to look at the inferior member of the Organization. Not that he could see him very well; his silver bangs were relentlessly covering his right eye.

Jokingly hopeful, Demyx smiled back, dying to create some kind of connection.

"…Liquors."

"That stuff can be gross. Rum is better."

"You're the one Luxord chares it with."

"Yeah! Me, Axel, and Marluxia. Though Marluxia doesn't really like rum, and Larxene never joins in."

"She wouldn't."

"Well, yea. But Larxene is just there because Marluxia is and Marluxia shows up because he's madly gay for Luxord cause of their thing."

"Good for them. Maybe someone should stick something up Superior's ass to remove the tree in there."

Demyx smirked, though Zexion's tone had grown mildly flat. "Saix would jump at that chance."

A silver eye rolled. "No, there's a difference between lapdogs and man slaves. Superior screws him senseless on a daily basis in his office, where Saix receives his favorite drink."

"EW!" Perfectly scaled laugh erupted from Demyx's throat. It was gross but true, which made it funny. Strange, coming from Zexion, but no one ever talked to Zexion to find out if he was funny or not. Smiling, Demyx turned his report face-down on the table, promising his Superior the uncompromised attention he demanded. Subject didn't matter anymore, he just wanted to hear that beautiful voice flow from the gently pouting lips.

"Favorite fruit?"

"…kiwis."