Author's Notes: Wow, it's been a long time since I actually finished writing a KH oneshot. But I had to get this one in.

Happy Zemyx Day!! (I meant to have this in yesterday, when it actually was still Zemyx day, but got tired of editing and had to get some sleep due to my less than good substantial habits.

And I dedicate this little story to my very best friends: BeautifulCarWreck and the CrazyArtist121 due. Guys, we friggin' did it!! I love you!!

And the Disclaimer: I don't own KH, KH owns me. Plain and simple.

Total Eclipse of the Heart

—

The first time Demyx saw the slate-haired man, he was being given a tour by Axel, who had the least seniority with the exception of the newest recruit and was being forced to do it. Axel had been going on and on about who to avoid and who was okay and who had the shortest fuse, when Demyx‛s eyes landed on Zexion. He had been sitting quietly in a chair, a large, encyclepedia-looking book drawn in his lap, his eyes flying over the words like a rocket.

Demyx could feel his chest constricting, his breath catching in his throat as his heart began to madly pound.

"Who‛s that?" Demyx asked the redhead softly.

Axel, seeing where Demyx was pointing, burst out laughing. "Yeah, he might be nice to look at, but that Zexion‛s a real prick. I‛d avoid him if at all possible. He likes to throw tantrums."

But Demyx found it impossible to avoid Zexion, finding himself unexplanably drawn to the shorter man until...

--

"This is ridiculous," the slate-haired man said to the blond in front of him. He gave a dignified tsk, before crossing his arms and wiggling a little in his chair as he looked around the room. In love with me, indeed, he thought. As if Nobodies can love...

His eyes landed back upon number Nine, who appeared so small, so defeated as his eyes filled with tears. Zexion could feel something slicing through his chest at the sight, right where his heart should have been beating and pumping the blood throughout his body. He gasped slightly, uncomfortable with this pain that he had never before felt.

Phantom pain, probably my body remembering guilt and sympathy. It‛s not like I‛m really feeling it.

"You should probably go, Nine," Zexion said, not wanting the other to see the obvious problem he seemed to be having.

Something flashed in Demyx‛s eyes, cracking Zexion like a whip. Is that anger I see? Could that be real anger?

"You think that we don‛t have hearts," Demyx said rhetorically, his voice more menacing than Zexion had ever heard it. Nine usually seemed to be so mellow, so easy-going. "You think that we don‛t have emotions and can‛t feel things just like everyone else. You go down into that lab of yours and research all fucking day long trying to find hearts for us all, when I‛m the only thing you need! I have emotions, I can feel things just like I am right now! I‛m pissed because you seem to think what I feel for you is nothing more than a memory of who I used to be, as if I‛ve ever been someone else! All you and this stupid organization did was change my name!"

A crease formed between Zexion‛s eyebrows as they knitted together, perplexed. He honestly didn‛t know what to make of the boy in front of him who seemed so convinced that he could feel and...and love. It made Zexion burn with, not just curiosity, but something else, something that he couldn‛t explain himself.

His condescending attitude simmered as he leaned forward, resting his head in his hands, saying softly, "You‛re so sure of yourself."

"Of course I am! I know what I feel," Demyx said, slightly relieved to see that Zexion seemed to be taking him somewhat seriously now.

"How?"

"How do I know that I feel?" Demyx asked. His companion nodded once. "Well, that‛s a bit harder to explain, really. Emotion is passion, passion for something...or someone." Sitting up and lacing his hands behind the back of his neck, he stared up at the ceiling, trying to gather his words carefully. After all, he probably only had one shot at this, at convincing Zexion that he could feel. "For example, I love playing my sitar. Not only is it my weapon, but it‛s my hobby. I hate it when the room is quiet and there‛s no music playing, it drives me crazy! And you, with your research. You‛re passionate about it, otherwise you wouldn‛t continue to do it day after day."

"Emotions are...passion? But what about hate? How is that passion?" Zexion asked, wanting the other to go on talking, to persuade him that he could feel. He wanted absolutely nothing more than to feel...

Demyx chuckled. "Hate is a very passionate emotion," he began. "It takes a lot of feeling to hate someone."

"Hm," Zexion said, crossing his arms. In truth, he was mulling everything over in his mind. Demyx just seemed so convinced that what he was saying was absolute truth. It was hard not to be at least a little curious. He was a scientist after all. "Prove it, then," he said, eyes trained on the blond in front of him. "Prove to me that we can feel and I‛ll believe that you love me."

Demyx didn‛t need further prompting.

He was there a split second later, causing Zexion to think that he was being attacked. And in a way, he was. Demyx‛s two calloused hands grabbed either side of Zexion‛s face, pulling the shorter man into a standing position, his lips slamming into the other‛s for a kiss.

Demyx‛s lips were hungry, he‛d wanted this for so long, that they crushed against the other‛s, so needy. His tongue sought entrance, forcing its way between Zexion‛s stilled lips. When their tongues finally met, Zexion felt something unexpectedly wash over him, his face flushing and his hands unconsciously seeking the front of Demyx‛s robes, pulling him, if possible, even closer to him, until every curve and line was pressed exactly to the other‛s.

One of Demyx‛s hands strayed from Zexion‛s face to nestle in his hair, fingers entwining and moving against his skull in an intoxicating sort of way. Zexion thought he was losing his mind, it was so difficult to think. If he had been rational, he would have pushed the other man away, but that hadn‛t even crossed his mind.

Every inch of his body seemed to be craving Demyx‛s touch, wanting those long fingers there, touching and squeezing and caressing–

So suddenly that Zexion was thrown off balance, caught by the other, Demyx broke away. Steadied only by a firm grip on either shoulder from Demyx‛s strong hands, Zexion was left gasping, his chest heaving. He looked up at the blond expectantly, wanting, craving whatever was to come next.

"Now are you convinced?" Demyx asked, his voice ragged and a touch raw.

"Convinced?" Zexion asked. His mind was so hazy, so foggy...Demyx did this to him and now expected him to be able to think?!

"Can you feel?" he asked again, voice nary above a whisper. His cerulean eyes were so determined so the answer that they sought...

Composure and all usual stoicism shot to the wind, Zexion said the only thing his brain could muster that was semi-intelligent. "I-I don‛t know."

Demyx rolled his eyes. So much for the direct approach, he thought. An idea popped into his mind and he grinned, almost menacingly down at Zexion.

Pushing him backward until his back was flush with the wall and eyes were wide, mouth in a perfect ‛o,‛ Demyx colander Zexion‛s complete attention. His hands trailed down Zexion‛s slender frame, briefly caressing his hips, until Demyx‛s hands reached what they had been seeking.

Nudging Zexion‛s legs apart slightly, he cupped Zexion‛s dick through pants and robe, gently massaging it with nimble fingers. His breathing hitched almost painfully as he gasped, eyes widening.

Zexion felt his knees give out at the touch, his body falling forward into Demyx‛s. His crotch sprang to life at the soft prodding, tightening and expanding in a way he‛d ever before experienced after wave after wave of something flowed through him, but what?

It was true that he‛d read about sex in the past with only a passive interest, but never before felt the need for it like some of the other Organization members.

Demyx withdrew his hand, wrapping his two strong arms around Zexion‛s body, hugging him close. Even as his mind was reeling, Zexion was oddly touched by the gesture, his own arms winding around Demyx as he rested his cheek on his chest, still breathing hard. The stood there for an eternity of a time until Zexion felt a strange sort of withdraw between his legs, quickly replaced by a dull ache.

"Did you feel that?" Demyx asked in a small voice after Zexion‛s breath evened out, his hands curling through the soft gray hair, his voice so hopeful.

"Yes," Zexion replied, his heart pounding again, but for a different reason. "Yes, I felt that."

"Good," Demyx said, nodding. "Then you understand why I love you?"

Looking up into those oh, so blue (ocean-colored, Zexion thought) eyes, he thought for a moment.

It was true that Demyx was a little flighty and hated fighting and had mood swings like the devil, but he was determined to prove himself to Zexion. Surely that was an admirable trait, right? And he seemed kind and gentle and nonaggressive (until it came to Zexion), unlike the majority of the members. But best of all, he loved Zexion.

And all Zexion ever wanted was to be loved. Wasn‛t that the reason they‛d been trying to find their hearts all along?

Nodding slowly, whispering an almost silent "Yes!" he reached up, his hand curling behind the back of the blond‛s neck and, standing on tip toes, kissed him.

The End.

Author's Notes: You know what writer's love? Constructive criticism. Give me some!! I know I need it!

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