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Russian Roulette	By : SkullSkellBlink Category: Kingdom Hearts > Slash/Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1151 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, Demyx, Zexion, anything. I own nothing. I make no profit from this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 1-Russian Roulette
- 1
A blonde 19-year-old in a T-shirt and jeans walked down a dark hallway, running his hand nervously through his dirty blonde hair styled in a Mohawk/mullet hybrid. He pressed his back against the wall when he heard a guard coming closer, holding his breath until the footsteps faded away. He set off down the hall again until he came to the end of the hallway.
"Demyx, what are you doing here?"
Demyx pulled a wrought-iron key out of his pocket, holding it in front of the tall orange-haired man. "Please, Lexeaus," he begged. "I need to see him."
Lexaeus saw the look in the blonde's eyes and stepped aside, watching him struggle to unlock the door. "I'll try to keep Luxord away, but I make no promises," he said.
Demyx hurried down the long flight of stairs, stopping at a heavy wooden door with a small barred window near the top. Pushing it open with a small grunt, his eyes refocused in the dark on the single figure in the room.
A shorter 19-year-old sat in the corner, his slate-colored hair falling over one of his dark eyes. His clothes were dirty, a black T-shirt and jeans with no shoes. "Zexion," Demyx said softly, kneeling in front of the other teenager. The heavy door closed behind him.
"Demyx, what are you doing down here?" Zexion asked. "Luxord won't like it."
"I don't care," the blonde replied. "He can't do this to you."
Zexion gave a forced weak smile, lifting the taller's chin to look at him. "He won't lose," he promised. "I promise."
A single tear streaked down the blonde's cheek. "Even you can't promise that," he said softly.
Zexion gently brushed the tear away. "I swear to you," he whispered, pressing his lips against the blonde's. Demyx gently pushed him away.
"Please don't," he begged. "It'll make it harder to watch you go."
"I'm not going anywhere," Zexion murmured, giving the blonde another soft kiss. "I have all the time in the world to spend with you."
"Zexion," Demyx moaned almost inaudibly, the slatenette starting to press slow gentle kisses down his jaw line. "Please. Luxord will wonder where I am."
"Let him look," Zexion whispered, sliding his hand under the taller's T-shirt, scraping his nails lightly along the tan skin. "I have all the time in the world with you."
"B-But I'm not supposed to be here," Demyx said, groaning lightly as a cold hand delved under the waist of his jeans, fingers playing lightly over the tent forming in his boxers.
"Then we'll make this quick," Zexion whispered, starting to rub more firmly. Demyx let out a low moan as the slatenette kissed down his neck, stopping to suck harshly on his collarbone before continuing down.
"Zexion," Demyx moaned again as the slatenette rid both of them of their pants and boxers.
"Demyx," Zexion murmured against the blonde's chest, wiggling a single finger into him as gently as he could.
"Please," Demyx moaned, moving back on the shorter's finger. "Just do it."
"Just relax, baby," Zexion whispered, using his pre-cum to lube up his erection.
Demyx barely nodded, burying his face in Zexion's shoulder as the slightly older pushed up into him, staying still when he was buried to the hilt. Zexion moved Demyx's face to his, kissing him to make the initial pain disappear.
"M-Move," Demyx stuttered softly, starting to roll his hips slightly.
Zexion started thrusting gently up in the body above him, Demyx using his legs to help a little. "Zexion," Demyx moaned louder than before as the shorter thrust straight into the little bundle of nerves that made him see stars.
"Demyx," Zexion groaned, biting into the blonde's shoulder lightly to keep himself from being too loud.
It wasn't long until Demyx came, Zexion coming almost immediately after, covering them both in sticky white fluid. The blonde pulled himself off of Zexion, cleaning them both up with a cloth he'd had in the back pocket of his jeans.
"Demyx," Zexion said as the blonde started to open the door again. He stood up, grabbing the blonde's arm and pulling him into a loving kiss. "I swear."
Demyx gave a weak smile, already missing the warmth of the shorter teenager as he walked back up to where Lexaeus was keeping watch. "I wish I could believe you," he whispered to himself, wrapping his arms around his stomach in an attempt to warm himself up.
"Demyx."
The blonde looked up to see the 21-year-old platinum blonde staring down at him, one eyebrow cocked. "What are you doing down here?" he asked.
"I'm sorry, Luxord," Demyx apologized, bowing his head slightly. "I just wanted to see something." He bit on his lower lip as the taller blonde walked past him.
"Lexaeus," Luxord said, waiting as the orange-haired man walked down the small flight of stairs, coming back a few minutes later with Zexion in tow. "Let's go."
Zexion turned to see Demyx watching them as they walked away. I swear, he mouthed back at the blonde before turning back around to watch where he was walking. Demyx watched until the two were out of sight before pushing slightly on a stone jutting out from the rest on the wall. A small door opened up, leading the blonde to the playing room. He stood in the shadows as the players filed into the room one by one and sat around the small table.
"Good to see you came through with your promise, Luxord," a tall man with blue hair and an X-shaped scar on his forehead said, sitting with a tan silver-haired male. Luxord sat with Zexion across from the two, a man with pink hair sitting on one side and a man with long back and white hair kept back in a ponytail with an eyepatch sitting on the other side.
"Saix, Xemnas, Xigbar, Marluxia," Luxord said. Zexion didn't say anything; he knew he was forbidden to speak. He was only there as another player in Luxord's game.
Xemnas opened up a silver briefcase at his feet, pulling out a silver revolver, spinning the cylinder with the single bullet in it. He placed the gun in the middle of the table, pointing the muzzle at Luxord.
"You first, Luxord," Xigbar said.
"After all, you are the one who brought us together for this," Marluxia added, an evil grin on his face.
Luxord didn't show any emotion as he took the gun, spinning the cylinder, and placing the muzzle of the revolver against his head. He pulled the trigger.
A click met him and he placed the revolver back in the middle of the table. Player after player took their turn, each spinning the cylinder and pulling the trigger only to be met with an empty click. Finally, it was Zexion's turn.
Demyx struggled to keep himself quiet and pressed against the wall in the shadows as the slatenette spun the cylinder, moving the muzzle of the revolver to rest against the side of his head.
He pulled the trigger. An empty click met him.
Demyx started to breathe a little easier as the players each took their turns again, his breath hitching even more when it was Zexion's second turn.
Zexion took the revolver, spinning the cylinder and placing the muzzle against his head. He had about a 1/6 chance to lose. He pulled the trigger. A bang.
Zexion slumped to the floor, the revolver falling out of his hands and to the floor, blood staining the stone floor around him.
"The game is over," Luxord said, standing up with the 5 remaining players.
"Zexion!"
All 5 men watched as Demyx raced from the shadows, kneeling down and laying Zexion's head in his lap, tears falling freely down his cheeks. "You swore!" he yelled at the slatenette, starting to cry even harder. "You swore you'd stay alive!"
"What is that boy doing?!" Saix demanded, moving to push Demyx away.
"Leave him alone," Luxord said, putting a hand on the bluenette's shoulder to stop him. "The game is over." He cast a solemn look at the two teenagers on the floor before leading the rest of the players out of the room, closing the door behind them.
"You swore!" Demyx yelled again, seeing his blood-stained hands through blurry eyes as he reached for the revolver sitting in a pool of blood. He looked down at the slatenette laying dead on his lap, clutching the gun tightly in his hands. "You swore!"
He saw a few bullets from one of the last games under the table and reached for one of them, struggling to load the gun. Spinning the cylinder for one final time, he pressed the muzzle against his head, pulling the trigger.
- 1
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Russian Roulette