Author: Hidden Guardian
Rating: Yes. There are not enough Shadows in the world to suffice.
Full Name (including any titles): Marluxia; Vexen.
Full Species(es): Nemo Alteruniversalis Contumeliosus; Nemo Alteruniversalis Enervatus Stepfordiensis (Abusive AU Nobody, Spineless AU Nobody--Stepford variety).
Hair Color (include adjectives): 'the pink-haired man'; 'the blonde', 'wheat locks'.
Eye Color (include adjectives): 'ocean-blue eyes'; presumed green (as canon).
Unusual Markings/Colorations/Physical Features: None noted; 'spidery hands' and bruises. Lots of bruises.
Special Possessions (if any): A corkscrew; none noted.
Origin: 1950's suburbia.
Connections To Canon Characters: Claim to have met them once. Lie.
Special Abilities: FAILING. Inciting feminist RAGE without actual female characters. Acting like characters in a Lifetime movie and/or a documentary about the dark side of suburban domestic life. In Vexen's case, not only does he not have any special abilities, but he seems to have lost most normal abilities, like dialing 911.
Other Annoying Traits: Having the lyrics of an entire song at the top of the story. Lack of any kind of logic or causality. EPITHETS, dear sweet god the epithets! The word 'house-hubby'. Did I mention the feminist RAGE? Also, seem to have broken the economy. In fact, the only thing it does not commit is offenses against spelling and grammar.
I Say/Notes: Domestic abuse. We can all agree that it's bad, yes? Great. I have no doubt that it can be handled tastefully and effectively in fanfic. Most things can. This fic? Did not do so. I would almost like to believe that it's supposed to be a social commentary, but social commentaries don't have song lyrics at the top. And Vexen is not on my list of candidates for battered 'wife'.
Also, it loses all possible points with me forever for containing, apparently in all seriousness, the line, He did not draw the same sense of satisfaction that most people did from being the home-maker. I'd give it the Ansem, if I could, just for perpetuating the myth that cleaning house and cooking is inherently satisfying for everyone except people who are somehow messed up. And men/'bread-winners', to quote the fic, who are different.
SPECIAL WARNING: VIOLENCE, DOMESTIC ABUSE, GORE, and RAPE.
[Scene: An empty sporking theatre. A chill wind blows an empty soda cup across the floor. High above, one of the lights flickers. A scent of stale popcorn drifts through the air. In—]
Axel: *portaling in* Oh, shut up and stop trying to be literary! It’s a goddamn sporking, for fuck’s sake.
Axel: Minimalism ain’t much better, y’know!
Marluxia: What are you talking about? Or, for that matter, to whom?
Vexen: I suppose he’s finally snapped. Excellent.
Zexion: No, he seems to be looking through the fourth wall. *sighs* It would have been too much to hope for.
Vexen: The fourth—we’re here again?
Marluxia: And my options are…*points at Zexion* Bad. *points at Axel* Worse. *points at Vexen* DO NOT FUCKING WANT.
Vexen: Oh, as if I do!
Zexion: *separating them* We’re going to sit down and get this over with. No objections.
Zexion: No. Objections.
[A fifth and final portal opens before they take their seats.]
Roxas: *takes in the other four Nobodies* Why me?
Axel: Roxas! Heyyyy!
Roxas: I’m not speaking to you anymore. Remember?
[Unfortunately for Roxas, the arrangement of the seats, as well as Marluxia’s and Vexen’s insistence on not sitting anywhere near one another, require him to sit between Axel and Zexion. Pity Roxas.]
Axel: I’ll be good!...ish.
Roxas: Still not speaking, and definitely not friends.
Marluxia: Was there an actual story to be mocked, or are we just here to mock them?
Zexion: *unearths script* ‘Domestic Abuse For the Lose…Part One’?
Vexen: There’s so much wrong with just that title…
Roxas: If I’m a whimpering little abuse victim, heads will roll.
Axel & Zexion: *subtly lean away from Roxas*
Vexen: Gods damn it!
Marluxia: Urge to flee rising.
Axel: But that would be cowardly. *smirks*
Marluxia: Urge to dismember Axel also rising.
Author: Hidden Guardian
Zexion: Would that it had stayed hidden.
All: DO NOT WANT!
Series: Kingdom Hearts
Roxas: So they claim. Fifteen munny says they stole proper nouns and stuck them on soap opera characters.
Axel: No bet.
Genre: Angst, Drama
Zexion: Roxas shows all signs of being correct.
Characters: Marluxia, Vexen
Marluxia & Vexen: *simultaneous facepalm*
Marluxia: Just when you thought it was safe to leave the World That Never Was…
Vexen: Screw portals. Portals got me here. I’m walking everywhere from now on.
Disclaimer: I think by now we all know that I don’t own Kingdom Hearts.
Zexion: And believe us, we are grateful, or a reasonable facsimile thereof.
God, I love this song….
Vexen: And it’s a songfic. Of course.
Axel: *munching on popcorn* This is gonna be good…
I don’t own Within Temptation either. But I want the The Heart of Everything sweatshirt.
Zexion: Yes, where is Lexaeus?
Vexen: He’s never in these.
Axel: What about that one where he was? That was fu~un.
Marluxia: You have very strange standard of ‘fun’.
Axel: You’re just jealous because you didn’t get to see.
[Snip go the lyrics, yes all of them, of ‘Frozen’ by Within Temptation.]
Roxas: *twitches* I. Hate. Songfics.
Marluxia: V for Victory?
Roxas: V for Vendetta.
Axel: I liked that movie! Especially the fire and explosions.
Zexion: Surprise, surprise. The graphic novel was infinitely more subtle and conveyed a highly complex political message.
Vexen: Zexion prefers print medium to film. In other news, water may have liquid properties.
Zexion: Xaldin will back me up on this.
Vexen: I never said he wouldn’t. You’re right, anyway.
Marluxia: You people read comic books?
Zexion: Graphic novels. On occasion, when a writer manages to infuse sufficient intricacy into a generally simplistic medium.
Axel: *sniggers* You read comic books! You! *laughs helplessly*
Roxas: *wrestling Zexion away from Axel* He has no room to talk. I know for a fact he breaks into comic shops every Thursday to get copies of all the new issues.
Axel: You promised you’d never tell!
Roxas: I promised my best friend, who could be duly sympathetic about my plight in badfic. I don’t see him here.
Axel: *crosses arms* *pouts*
“Hey, Roxaaaaaas,” Axel drawled,
Roxas: Oh. Fuck. No.
Marluxia: It would be a pleasant surprise if our unlucky couple turned out to be them after all.
Vexen: Remember the character listing?
Marluxia: You exist solely to crush my hopes, don’t you?
Vexen: More or less.
walking up to the blonde who sat at the living-room desk, staring out the window facing the row of houses across the street, “haven’t you gotten enough of spying on the neighbors for today?”
Zexion: *Naminé* But…I’m not Roxas.
Roxas: *twitches more*
Axel: We’re totally spying on the neighbors because we’re federal agents going undercover to get evidence against a drug ring. Totally.
Vexen: You wish.
Roxas turned around and gave him a small glare with his ocean-blue eyes. Axel chuckled and wrapped his arms around his small, teenaged lover.
Vexen: Statutory rape. I’d say I would never have expected it of Axel, but to be perfectly honest, I’d expect anything of Axel.
Roxas: *hands clench into fists* Hate. So much.
Zexion: How many more times must we say it? You cannot hate.
Roxas: I stole Sora’s.
“I don’t know why you find them so interesting anyway!”
Roxas: Neither do I.
Vexen: Maybe being a creepy stalker is a sexually-transmitted disease.
Roxas: *produces Oblivion* *attempts to murder Vexen*
Zexion: Get off of me this minute! *books him, Danno*
Roxas: *booked* Ow.
Zexion: There will be no murder of my colleagues. Murder Marluxia if you must.
He kissed up the other’s neck. “I can entertain you more than they can.”
Axel: *looks at Roxas*…I’m gonna go sit over there now, ‘kay?
Roxas: *on slow boil*
Axel: *moves around to the other side of Marluxia*
“Quit being a pervert, you horndog,” Roxas chided, reaching up with one hand to play with the wild spikes.
Marluxia: Mixed messages, much?
“I know you feel neglected if I’m not on my knees every minute of every day, but I want to keep watching for a few minutes.”
Roxas: *summons both Keyblades* *glaring at the screen*
Axel: For reference, I really don’t and am fine with you where you are.
“You know that’s illegal, right?” the red-head asked, poking his cheek. “If they catch you peeping, they’ll throw you in jail. J-A-I-L. Got it memorized?”
Vexen: And if they find out you’re sleeping with a teenage boy, you’ll be arrested for rape. R-A-P-E. Got it memorized?
Axel: *pitches chakram at Vexen’s head*
Roxas & Zexion: *don’t have to duck*
Vexen: *blocks with shield* Nice try.
Roxas rolled his eyes, leaning forward a bit. “Axel… you’ve talked to the people who live in that little pink house, right?”
Marluxia: My foreboding is only increasing.
he asked, pointing at a particularly well-kept place across the street, “the one with the white porch and the huge garden?”
Marluxia: Foreboding has reached maximum. And for reference, I would never paint my house pink with white trim.
Vexen: Why? Would it clash with your hair?
Marluxia: Because I’m not a seven-year-old girl!
“Once or twice when the bread-winner and I were both out trying to tame the beast of the lawns,” Axel joked. “We’ve had a couple of beers. Why?”
Axel: A couple of beers! Now there’s an idea. *materializes same*
Marluxia: Inefficient and plebian. *materializes bottle of absinthe* *swigs absinthe*
Zexion: This cannot possibly end well. It does, however, have potential to end amusingly.
“Did you ever notice anything odd about him?” Roxas pressed.
Roxas: *himself* Like being horribly OOC?
Marluxia: *carefully sets absinthe down* I’m going to need this more later.
Vexen: Wait a minute! What makes you so sure you’re the ‘bread-winner’?
Marluxia: The fact that last time you were pregnant and the time before that you wore a dress?
Vexen: *glowers* Curse you and your rational deduction too.
Zexion: I never thought I would hear you, of all people, say those words.
“Not particularly. Come on, Roxas; you’re obsessed. I knew it was a mistake to make you a house-hubby,” he said, pulling on a blonde lock of hair.
Roxas: DON’T TOUCH THE HAIR. And…a ‘house-hubby’?
Zexion: We’re in the 1950’s, only without any women. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be writing ‘The Uke Mystique’.
Vexen: The sooner someone exposes the hypocrisies of this society, the better.
“All you do is watch soap operas and read James Patterson novels. It makes you paranoid.”
Roxas: It makes me think I’m in one. And you know what? I am!
Vexen: ‘Paranoid’ is meaningless as an insult if they really are out to get you.
The blonde glared at him. “Shut up, you,” he commanded, poking Axel in the ribs.
Marluxia: …With a Keyblade.
Axel: *drama* Oh! Alack! I am slain!
“Roxas, just come cuddle with me!
Axel: Not actually asking here!
Look, only wife-y is at home anyway.
Vexen: Someone, please, kill me now. Or pass the absinthe.
Marluxia: *clings to* Get your own!
So you can just pull out the night-vision binoculars later tonight, okay?” Axel asked, kneeling down and folding his hands, staring up at the blonde with emerald-green puppy eyes.
Zexion: His eyes are emerald green puppies?
Axel: Sounds like someone’s been at the absinthe already! *chugs third beer*
“Good lord… fine, you horndog. We both know what you really want.”
Vexen: To laugh at our suffering?
Zexion: To escape suburbia, to which you are phenomenally unsuited?
Marluxia: For Roxas to talk to you again?
Roxas: Buttsex. Always the buttsex.
“What can I say?” Axel asked, smirking, “you’re just that irresistible.”
Roxas pushed his chair back from the desk and stood up, giving one last glance to the house across the street before letting the thin white curtain close and leading Axel towards the bedroom.
Axel: *looks at beer can* This’s no good. Now I just have to piss.
Marluxia: *facepalm* Thank you for that thrilling update.
Axel: *wanders off to the bathroom*
Vexen: Tell me you mean Larxene.
Zexion: You saw the character lists as clearly as I did.
Vexen: Curses. *manifests vodka bottle*
turned the oven off and cracked the door, leaving the casserole inside so that it would not cool off before Marluxia could get home. The house was already near-perfect.
Marluxia: Except for being pink.
Roxas: You’re the ‘man’, term used loosely, of the house. You hire the painters.
The dining room next to the kitchen was already set up for the meal. A basket with bread sat next to the centerpiece of flowers cut from the house’s own front garden, two places had already been set, with folded napkins, the full range of silverware, and a bottle of wine stood in a ice-filled bucket on the stand next to the table.
Zexion: Nothing in that paragraph could not be a murder weapon.
Marluxia: What about the napkins?
Zexion: Strangulation, naturally.
Marluxia: And as for the flowers, we probably don’t have our powers in this.
Zexion: *smirks* They would count anyway.
Roxas: *sidles away from Zexion a little bit*
He did not draw the same sense of satisfaction that most people did from being the home-maker.
Axel: *comes back* What’d I miss?
Vexen: Feminism just took a fifty-year step back in one sentence.
He was not somebody’s wife.
Vexen: Then why am I acting like one?! *takes a drink of vodka*
But his job was the one out of the two that did not require office work everyday. It was easier to write articles for Bioengineering Technology Advanced magazine from home than it was to run a florist boutique.
Zexion: And the research necessary to have anything to write about can be done in the basement?
Vexen: You say ‘basement’, I say ‘elaborate network of subterranean laboratories’.
Zexion: Not to mention that, what with grants and one thing and another, it almost certainly pays better, making Vexen the ‘bread-winner’.
Vexen: You know that, I know that, but does the writer have the faintest idea of what a scientific career entails? No!
And if he wanted there to be peace in the house, he was the one who would have to cede anyway. The other certainly would not.
Vexen: What on earth gives you the idea that I want there to be peace in the house?
Marluxia: I wish getting you to shut up and do what I said had been so easy.
Putting on an oven-mitt to keep his spidery hands from burning,
Roxas: …You have eight fingers on each hand?
Axel: Your hands eat small bugs, then? I wouldn’t be surprised.
Marluxia: Does that description make any sense whatsoever?
he grabbed the potatoes and carried them out to the dining room before coming back for the green beans.
Zexion: …Now I’m hungry.
Vexen: I’m not cooking.
Zexion: You can.
Roxas: He can?
Vexen: *ignoring Roxas* But after this fic, I have no desire to.
Zexion: Fair enough.
As he sat the dish down, he saw light flash across the dining-room window as a dark green car pulled into the driveway.
Marluxia: At least it’s not pink.
He moved quickly to grab the main dish and sat it on the table before stripping off the unflattering mitts,
Axel: The oven mitts never gave him a single compliment!
Marluxia: Only you can stop the silent scourge of hypercritical household implements.
shoving them in a drawer, pouring a glass of the expensive red wine, and meeting his lover at the door with it.
Marluxia: *Vexen* I have a glass of expensive wine, and you don’t.
“Welcome home,” he said, quietly, as the door was slammed open.
Roxas: *Vexen* Don’t slam the door! Didn’t your mother ever teach you manners?
Marluxia: *himself* I’ll slam the damn door whenever I feel like it!
Roxas: *Vexen* Fine, but you’re paying for the plasterer when you dent the wall!
The pink-haired man scoffed and snatched the glass from his hand, taking a deep drink even as he tossed his work apron over the blonde’s shoulder.
Axel: Then did the hokey pokey and turned himself around.
Roxas: That’s what it’s all about.
Axel: Yup! See, Roxas, you—
Roxas: Still not friends.
He opened the closet without complaint and hung the garment up in its place.
Axel: Why doesn’t he leave his work apron at, y’know, work?
Marluxia: Shhh! Logic!
“The electricity and Mastercard bills came today,” he stated as he closed the closet door, following the other into the living room.
Zexion: The problem with pronouns is that they get rather difficult to understand without the occasional proper nouns.
Vexen: I’m imposing a one-drink-per-epithet rule. Zexion, please stop me if I’m about to kill myself.
“Did you open them?!” he snapped, ocean-blue eyes narrowing to thin slits.
Vexen: *himself* Of course I opened them! I have to pay them, don’t I?
Axel: Hang on, Roxas had ocean-blue eyes a minute ago…
Roxas: *to Marluxia* You stole my eyes?!
Marluxia: I admit nothing.
“Of course not,” the blonde denied, “I put them on your desk.” It was the only time he was ever allowed in the other’s private room.
Marluxia: Why not? *also drinks*
Zexion: Except for all those times when he went in to go through Marluxia’s things, since it’s not like he would know.
Marluxia: Would you put it past me to have alarmed the door of my study?
Zexion: No, but if so-called-Vexen can go into your room when you’re out at all, then logically there is no reason why he couldn’t go in any time he wanted.
Roxas: There is no logic. Only badfic.
“Good.” He swirled the glass in his hand, watching the wine splash against the side.
Axel: *Demyx* Dance, wine, dance!
“Yes, Marluxia?” the scientist asked immediately.
“Is dinner ready?”
“It is. I made a Mexican casserole, potatoes, green-.”
Zexion: *gets up in search of food*
Axel: *munches his popcorn obnoxiously loudly*
Zexion: I mean real food.
“I’ll see it when I get to the table,” Marluxia interrupted, “or were you bragging? Wanting a pat on the head? ‘Good Vexen’.”
Vexen: *snarls* Of all the—
Roxas: I think Marluxia is mixing up ‘wanting a pat on the head’ with ‘wanting to eat your face’.
Vexen & Marluxia: *drink*
cheeks turned red but he knew better than to say anything, and for good reason.
Vexen: What good reason?
Axel: Remember the script title?
Vexen: I tried not to.
Marluxia smirked and reached out, grabbing Vexen’s arm and chuckling as a pained gasp slipped past the blonde’s lips.
Marluxia & Vexen: *drink*
Zexion: *returns with sandwich and cup of tea* This can only lead to further trauma for all concerned.
He pushed up the long sleeve, revealing the snow-white skin, mottled with purple bruises.
Vexen: *headwall* Oh, lovely.
Roxas: No offense, but rather you than me.
“I must not know my own strength,” he mused, leaning forward and licking the dark marks.
Zexion: Of course. Accidental bruising. And you must be hard of hearing, too, to miss Vexen yelling, ‘That hurts! Let go!’ in your ear.
Marluxia: Listening to Vexen has never been an efficient use of my time.
Axel: *eyebrows* Oh, and sleeping with him is?
Vexen moaned and shuddered lightly in his hold, not sure how to feel about the warm, wet muscle running over his skin.
Roxas: How about ‘ewwww gross stop giving me Marluxia cooties’?
Zexion: I was leaning towards ‘what in the world is wrong with you’ myself.
Vexen: Both. With added ‘from here I’m in an excellent position to punch you in the face’.
In some ways, it felt good, but oh how he wished it didn’t.
Marluxia: In what ways?
Axel: Ukes have special nerve endings. The seme’s touch always feels good.
Roxas & Vexen: *headdesk*
Roxas: It’s true, too. *headdesk again*
After a minute, Marluxia let him go. “I suppose you would prefer that I ate before your dinner started getting cold?”
Zexion: *Vexen* Don’t even think about disrespecting this meal by eating it in any way other than the proper one, i.e. however I tell you it should be eaten.
Vexen: *himself* Except for that dish. Let it get cold.
Roxas: *Marluxia* Why? What is it?
The blonde nodded.
Vexen & Marluxia: *drink*
“It would be best; food never tastes as good when it’s been left to sit.
Axel: I like cold leftovers!
Roxas: You have defective taste buds. I always knew this.
Axel: …Says the guy who ate chili with sea-salt ice cream that one time. And liked it.
Roxas: It was good!
I already have the table set and waiting for us.” Marluxia stood up and walked through to the dining room, heading over to the bar to re-fill his wine-glass
Marluxia: I’m going all the way over to the bar? I just got home!
Axel: Maybe you have a bar in your house? No, that doesn’t sound right…
Marluxia: I would have a liquor cabinet, but a bar?
Zexion: *looks up* The wine was in a bucket next to the table. There was no need to go to the ‘bar’ for more.
Marluxia: Oh, that wine. It tasted lovely. Pity it was poisoned.
Marluxia: I act on the assumption that any food Vexen hands me is poisoned. Saves time.
Vexen: *sighs* It’s not as though he’s wrong to do so.
while Vexen dished out the best parts of each dish to the pink-haired male’s
Marluxia & Vexen: *drink*
Roxas: Should we stop them?
Zexion: Not yet.
plate before loading his own.
Marluxia: *slurring slightly* An’ then we have to switch plates, ‘cause of the poison.
Vexen: How d’you know I didn’t know you’d do that?
Marluxia: Hmmm…It’s so simple! All I have to do is divine from what I know of you. Are you the sort of man who would put the poison in his own plate, or his enemy’s? Now, a clever man would put the poison in his own plate, because he would know that only a great fool would reach for what he was given. I’m not a great fool, so I can clearly not choose the food in front of me. But you must have known I was not a great fool—
Vexen: Don’t count on it.
Marluxia: Don’t interrupt me when I’m monologuing! …Where was I?
Axel: You were pretty much done.
Others: *nod earnestly*
Marluxia: I don’t trust you when you agree.
Zexion: Typical of one so untrustworthy.
“That’s excellent wine,” Marluxia commented, sitting down a few seconds before Vexen did. “Any special occasion? I would feel horrible if I had missed an anniversary or birthday.”
Roxas: Could be tricky, what with the not feeling and all.
“No special occasion,” Vexen answered as he waited for Marluxia to take the first bite, hoping that his cooking was good,
Vexen: I don’t ‘hope’. I know.
Axel: But you need hubby dearest’s approval to have any sense of self-worth at all!
Vexen: You. Die. Now. *throws ice*
Axel: *hides behind Marluxia*
Vexen: *has horrible aim while drunk*
Roxas: Ow! Watch it!
Zexion: You’re done. *books lightly*
Vexen: Should I not kill Axel for some reason?
Zexion: You were missing.
“I just thought that you might like it tonight.”
Marluxia raised an eyebrow and took another sip before setting the glass down.
Marluxia: Mmmm, tasty cyanide.
“Expensive for no special occasion,” he said under his breath, just loud enough for Vexen to hear and that was exactly how he had intended it.
Roxas: While it’s good to know you’re not talking to yourself, so what?
Axel: *Vexen* I’ll drink expensive wine when I damn’ well please!
He picked up his fork and tested each type of food on his plate. After a minute, his eyes narrowed a bit. “The potatoes need a bit more pepper.”
Zexion: *bites into sandwich viciously* Psychosomatic or not, I’m still hungry.
Vexen reached out and passed him the shaker from the center of the table before starting to eat himself. He disagreed - everything tasted fine to him - but Marluxia had very odd taste sometimes.
Vexen: Only sometimes?
Zexion: If one of the others were here, he would agree, you know.
Vexen: It isn’t my fault their taste buds have atrophied.
Marluxia: He really cooks?
Axel: Looks like it.
Marluxia: That’s just weird.
“Did you get any actual work done today, or did you just play house wife?” the florist asked after a few more bites.
Marluxia: *takes a sip, as he has been doing*
Vexen: *chugs vodka*
Roxas: He says this like ‘playing house wife’ involves no work.
Vexen: *really, really drunk* I CAN HAS FEMINISM NAOW?
Zexion: *recovers quickest* Yes, Vexen, you can. Not that you should need it, but all things considered it can hardly hurt.
Axel: Vexen speaks LOLcat when extremely drunk. Huh. Who’d’ve guessed?
His tone was quite nasty, but Vexen did not take the bait.
Marluxia: Oh, because that’s likely.
“I wrote more on the article about the ethical issues of genetic enhancement.
Roxas: *Vexen’s article* There are none! Because I’m a mad scientist and don’t care about ethics! Hear me laugh maniacally!
Axel: Sounds about right.
Zexion: Radiant Garden had yet to invent scientific ethics.
Roxas: So you claim.
Zexion: I do indeed.
Also, I got an e-mail that said my ‘Men from Monkeys’ article is being put into the special issue they’re doing about evolution.”
Vexen: SCIENCE: UR DOIN IT RONG.
Zexion: Let’s just consider that a placeholder for an extended rant on the nature of scientific specialization, papers, publications, and research, shall we?
Axel: Hey, it’s not like we want to hear it.
“Honestly, love, I asked if you did anything. I really don’t care about the little details.”
Roxas: So the options were ‘Yes’, ‘No’, and ‘Took out a restraining order’?
Marluxia: He’s not trying to tell me about cleaning the toilets, so whatever.
Vexen closed his eyes and counted to ten before he opened them again.
Axel: *Vexen* Goddammit, he’s still there!
When Marluxia was acting like that, it was so hard not to snap out a sharp ‘fuck you!’. But he had, once….
Roxas: Or twice…
Marluxia: Or every time we meet…
Zexion: The hanging ellipses are giving me a headache. So he used to snap at Marluxia. So what?
He also didn’t complain when Marluxia started to talk about his own day, everything that had happened down to leaving a rather poisonous looking caterpillar in the flowers a teenage boy had confessed to buying for his girlfriend.
Axel: Most IC action all story.
Marluxia: IC for you, not particularly so for me. Where’s the profit?
Vexen wondered how Marluxia’s shop did not get shut down with the number of times the florist
Zexion: *takes Vexen’s mostly-empty vodka bottle away* I think you’ve had enough.
Vexen: O RLY?
Zexion: Yes, really.
Marluxia: *regards own bottle* I think I’ll save you for later.
had pulled little stunts like that just to alleviate his boredom.
Roxas: Or he could get a new job. That’s good for boredom.
Marluxia: I resent the implication that I could be bored while surrounded by plants.
“And, of course, our black roses are looking beautiful.
Marluxia: What kind of ‘black’ roses? Black Magic? Black Beauty? White roses cut and dyed black unlike natural black roses which are in fact deep red?
Zexion: Roses made of metaphor.
Marluxia: I remember hating those so much, you have no idea.
A few more days of blooming, and I might bring a bouquet home to you. Would you like that?”
Vexen: I HAS AN ALLERGY.
Roxas: You just don’t like flowers. Or sunshine. Or puppies, rainbows, or kittens.
Marluxia asked, reaching out with his left hand and placing it on Vexen’s knee.
“That would be nice,” Vexen said, trying to sound enthusiastic.
Axel: …And failing miserably.
He cared little for flowers, and the pollen on his clothes often made the young, silver-haired boy at the library
Zexion: …That’s supposed to be me, isn’t it?
Zexion: They won’t listen if I explain in small words and short sentences that I am too old to be a ‘boy’, will they?
Zexion: They will suffer.
Marluxia: Get in line.
sneeze and give him withering looks, but Marluxia loved them so there were vases on most any surface that would stand still long enough.
Marluxia: Including the cat. You’d be surprised what duct tape can accomplish.
They continued to eat in a less-tense-than-usual silence until Vexen’s fork accidentally scratched against the plate, letting out a high whine for a few seconds, matched by the blonde’s as razor-sharp fingernails managed to dig through his pants and into the skin on his leg.
Vexen: DO NOT WANT.
Marluxia: *examines fingernails* Razor-sharp, mm? How would I go about this, do you think?
Roxas: Hang around more bad metaphors and hope some rubs off on you?
When Marluxia’s plate was empty, Vexen pushed back from the table.
“Shall I go get dessert, then?” he asked, gathering the dishes even though he wasn’t entirely finished. “It will only take me a moment.”
Vexen: I MADE YOU A DESSERT, BUT I ATED IT.
Axel: *Mom* Vexen, clean your plate! There are starving children in China!
Roxas: *Vexen* If I invent a device to teleport my food to them, will you leave me alone?
Marluxia leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms behind his head as he watched Vexen head back into the kitchen.
Zexion: I am thrilled by your detail. Truly I am. This is my ‘thrilled’ face.
As he sat the plates down in the sink, Vexen’s eyes caught the framed picture on the wall that had been hanging there since they had bought the house but often went unnoticed.
Zexion: Plates do not sit.
Vexen: INVISIBLE ARMCHAIR.
Roxas: Why is a framed picture hanging over the sink?
Axel: Because looking at it makes you we—
Marluxia: *scythes Axel* Any objections?
He paused and leaned his elbows on the counter.
He and Marluxia looked so happy in that photo. It was back when Marluxia was still a college student and himself the boy’s science teacher.
Zexion: What kind of science? Biochemistry, astronomy, engineering, psychics? Why would Marluxia be interested in those?
Marluxia: Because the crappy, cliché backstory said so.
Vexen: SCIENCE: STILL DOIN IT RONG.
Vexen was in his long, white lab-coat, a clipboard clutched to his chest and giving a small glare to the camera, that was barely masking a smile.
Zexion: Contrary to popular belief, scientists do not wear lab coats all the time.
Axel: Fifty million fanfics can’t be wrong!
Roxas: Yes they can.
Marluxia stood behind him, in a blue top that matched his wide eyes and a pair of black jeans, with his arms wrapped around Vexen’s skinny torso.
Vexen: BAD TOUCH! DO NOT WANT!
He was grinning at the camera-man.
God, that had to have been five years ago.
Vexen: VEXEN NOT HEER RITE NAOW. PLZ TO BE LEAVIN MESSAGE KTHX.
The blonde jumped and started digging through the refrigerator, trying to find the strawberry shortcake he had stuck in back.
Marluxia: How long has that shortcake been in the fridge?
Roxas: Long enough to evolve its own civilization. Have fun playing Godzilla.
Axel: I dunno, I think Vexen’s the type to clean the fridge out every week or something freakish like that.
Roxas: After being stuck in suburbia for long enough, a little danger to life and limb would sound really good.