Pre-Notes: . . . In my head, Roxas is a little bitchy grammar nazi. No, I don't know WTF I'm smoking.
Disclaimer: If I did, this Demyx/Roxas thing would be canon.
Summary: No, Roxas. You shouldn't be reading that in public.

Pepper Kisses
"Porn is good for the soul."

Peppered with kisses. What the hell did that even mean, peppered with kisses? Was that supposed to be a good thing? Because it made it sound like the poor guy was getting pounded into tender meat for a pie or some shit and really. That was so Sweeney right there.

Have a little Priest, y'know? But that wasn't the point. The point was that peppered with kisses was really just a stupid phrase and Roxas didn't understand it at all. But it popped up a lot and each time, he had a rather lengthy conversation with himself in his head about the alternatives to that phrase, why it was always used, possible origins, ect.

Basically, it ruined every book it ever popped in. Ruined the porn too, which was really bothersome at times. It sounded cheesy, like something out of that sparkly vampire novel. Scratch that, the sparkly vampire novel was too G for stuff like that. Roxas had read some of it once and never again, he vowed. That stuff was just . . . It was not a vampire if it could go into the sun. It was most definitely not a vampire if it went into the sun and fucking sparkled. Sparkled! Like some gaudy sequinned shit that one chick from the retarded younger sibling of Grease would wear.

And really this was the kind of conversation that Roxas often had with himself as he read books. It was this internal dialogue that gave him such a look of concentration as he read, which was the reason why the guy with the horribly out-of-fashion mullet walked up to him in the middle reading of a sex scene (which would have been embarrassing enough in and of itself) containing the phrase peppered with kisses and half-way through his internal argument.

"Whatcha doing?"
"Sod off and die. I'm reading and I don't feel like distractions."

Mulletman seemed to pay no attention to the annoyance in Roxas' voice. He sat down across from Roxas and tilted his head in an effort to read the spine of the novel. Roxas ignored him, where had he been in that mental monologue? Oh, right.

Peppered with kisses was just a completely unsexy phrase. Why would anyone want to use it in a sex scene? It was as unsexy as the word penis. Technical, yes, but so very unsexy and with no artistic merit at all. Wasn't that the point of writing—to make everything pretty and artistic? Like that one fic with the deli—

"S'that porn?"

Shit. Mulletman was still here. Roxas had hoped he would've been scared off by the book. Say something to scare him away, Roxas!

"Erotic novel. The term is erotic novel."

Smooth Roxas, real smooth. Admitting that you're reading porn and being a hypocrite all in the same short sentence. Could this day get any better? Obviously n—

"So it is porn."

Well, there goes that theory. Roxas, meet Murphy's Law. Murphy, why must your law be so right? That must be why it's a law.

"Yes, will you leave me alone now?"
"You know what sucks about porn?"

Roxas wasn't really paying attention. He was now on the most excellent train of thought that damn that one fic was full of sexy and it might be good to reread it after this piece of shit because really, this was just cruel and unus—

"—peppered with kisses."
"What?"
"The worst thing ever is when someone uses peppered with kisses."
". . . Totally Sweeny."
"Have a little priest."

Roxas, despite himself, smiled the quirky half-smile that so very rarely graced his lips. Scowling tended to be his dominant expression. Especially since most of the porn he had been reading lately was just so very bad. It probably would be a good idea to read that fic again because really, couldn't anyone write decent porn these days?

It was like these people didn't even bother to research the dynamics of sex. Or how to be sexy because Roxas totally admitted that if you had sexy, then you didn't really need the dynamics of sex down pat. Sexy was the important part because hello? You can't spell porn without sexy.

Or cheesy. But that was mostly for the visual stuff. It was so . . . Cheesy. And really, was he supposed to get off from that stuff? Ch. As if. At least he knew those positions were anatomically possible. Some of the things in fic. They just. You had to laugh at the ridiculousness. You really did.

"Do you ever stop to laugh at how ridiculous some porn is?"

Damn. Mouth, kindly refrain from talking without permission. What kind of question was that even? An awkward one, that's what. Seriously. Then again, this conversation was already sort of awkward. Rather awkwa—

"Doesn't everyone? Some of the things they say are just so . . . Bad."

A kindred spirit! That's who this amazing person was. Never mind the fact that this entire conversation was taking place in a library, people were looking at them funny, Roxas had originally hated the guy and this was all very very weird. The point of the matter was, Roxas had found his pornmate. Err, soulmate. Soulmate, soulmate, soul—

"—Honeysyn?"
"What?"
"You don't pay attention very well, do you? I said, have you ever read Honeysyn?"
". . . Lint-licker."
"What the fuck is a lint-licker?"

Mulletman was smiling, so Roxas certainly didn't take the last comment seriously. This was weird, conversation with this complete stranger was so much easier than conversation with most people. Axel, even though he was Roxas' best friend, didn't understand some of the things Roxas talked about. Like the time when he simply had to bitch and moan about elevator sex and the difficulties and really, why were they stuck at such a opportu—

"—name?"
"What?"
"Again, not listening. Do you have a name?"
". . ."

Roxas stared at Mulletman for a second. Stranger. Asking name. RAPE ALERT! RAPE ALERT! Wait. Actually, this was his porn—soul, he corrected himself—mate and really? What was a name between soulmates? Nothing.

"Roxas."
"So, Roxas-baby, do you wanna go grab coffee or something?"
"I don't drink coffee."
"Doesn't have to be coffee, s'just a suggestion."
"Oh. Well . . . Hey! I don't even know your name."
"S'Demyx. Do you wanna go somewhere or not?"

Even though Roxas' rape alert alarms were blaring and kind of hurting his eardrums, he studied Mulletman—no, Demyx—and carefully considered his options. One: go with soulmate. Possibly get raped. Two: kick soulmate in balls and RUN, RUN AWAY. Three: ignore soulmate in order to finish internal dialogue. Four: leave bad porn behind and run into the sunset with excellent, delicious porn. Fi—

"Yeah, why not?"

Goddamn mouth. Wasn't it supposed to refrain from speaking without permission? And really, when had Roxas given permission for any of this to happen? It simply wasn't right. Not Kosher. Not that Roxas was Jewish, that is. Crap. Was saying Kosher like taking God's name in vain? Well, then again Roxas never seemed to care too much about taking God's name in vain so did this really matter in the first place and god he could go for a—

"—taco?"
"Sure that sounds good."
"Oh, so you finally decided to pay attention."
"No, not really. Where are we going?"

Roxas only got bright, crystal laughter and a hand tugging him out of his seat and oh my god, they were touching! Touching, and they hardly knew each other. Not that Roxas was a blushing Virgin or anything. Oh, no. Roxas was totally not a Virgin. But he didn't like to talk about that. Axel was really really really drunk and that was not a good judge of character so he pretended it never happens and really where were they going because Roxas had never been here before but look! Tacos.

"I hope you like tacos."
"I hate them."
"Me too."

They both laughed and ordered burritos instead.

Postit-Notes: Honeysyn is awesome. Go read Honeysyn(dot)net!