Revenge isnt as Sweet

GOt it up! Thank you for being so patient, personally it was bothering me all day! So enjoy! So sorry it's so long, but I couldn't find a decent part to split this chapter, so it's really big. O.o
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This was worse. Oh so much worse.

Why did he do it? Demyx did the one right thing and locked himself in his room immediately after Luxord sent him out. That was the worst part.

Instead of blowing his top, yelling and calling Demyx names from his vast expanse of vocabulary, he merely coughed. The worst noise Demyx had to witness.

When Luxord pulled himself out of his bed, pushing the tightly wrapped sheets down far enough so he could swing his long legs from the encasement of the blankets, he stood and shuffled to the wall of ruined photography. Demyx winced as he watched Luxord’s heel stain new spots on the carpet from the stray dollops left over from the remains of the can. Luxord kept his back to the younger member, silently examining Demyx’s damage as if he were standing in an art gallery at the Louver. Ironically, Demyx spotted a massacred picture of France, the Louver captured in lovely pristine pixels, each one beautifully rejuvenated by expensive procedure. Worthless now.

Still standing stiffly, feet a shoulder’s width apart and hands clasped behind his back, Luxord let his shoulders fall, unwound from their usually tightly knitted stance. He took a deep breath and lifted his chin.

“You can go.” he said in a wavering voice. To mask his falter, he let out a single, half-hearted cough to expel any phlegm that might have collected in the back of his throat.

Oh the humanity. If only he didn’t stay quiet. Maybe if he began laughing, or taunting the blond man, maybe, maybe he could have provoked a more violent reaction. But not this. Not this.

Demyx recognized the tone, the single half-assed clearing of the throat. It was a cover up of the big picture. It was the sound of defeat. He had ruined Luxord, broke him down like he thought the man did unto him, but came up short, far too short, in the category of justification. Now he’d done it. Demyx wished more than anything that he yelled. That he hit, swore, cursed, battered, shred, anything. Anything but cough.

It was the male equivalent of a sob. He hated himself. Taking the liberty to skip the remaining two meals, Demyx only ventured out when everyone returned to their chambers after supper. He slid from his small one-sectioned room shuffled carefully down the hall to the dining area. Empty. Spotting the tacky tail-wagging cat clock hanging from the wall above the kitchen sink, he saw it was 10:26. Everyone tucked away for the night. Also the last call before the windows were drawn and lights were shut off, but Demyx spotted one solitary light still illuminating the small sitting room.

Through the glass sliding door Demyx spotted Luxord reclined in a lawn chair on the patio under the terrycloth gazebo, taking his usual evening smoke before turning into bed. Demyx slowly ventured outside, sliding the door closed in a quiet thunk. Luxord’s eyes flicked over to the boy before he resumed his quiet occupation. In a swift movement he brought his cigarette to his lips and took a deep draw, the fire flickering brighter as Luxord’s breath tugged the inferno to higher intensity, his smooth cheeks caving in from the strength of his suck. As he blew the smoke out his loosely parted lips, he lowered his head with an audible sigh.

He brought his gaze level with Demyx’s as he tapped ashes onto the damp grass.

“It’s late. You should be in bed.” He said softly as he shifted his weight, crossing his marvelously long legs at the ankles as one arm draped over the arm of the lawn chair. Demyx said nothing as he pulled an identical whitewashed aluminum chair to the matching lemonade table. They sat in silence for a few moments, allowing the sounds of the night penetrate whatever barriers that made them more or less toughened soldiers. Luxord took another drag as a particularly loud cricket began its midnight trill, shrieking its melodious voice into the clear night air like a crystal bell. Dew already began collecting on the velvet petals of the flowers in Marluxia’s garden, his new brown cosmoses looking like chocolate caramel cream with spots of glittering sugar crystalline fragments.

Finally Luxord climbed effortlessly to his feet and stubbed out the nubbin of soaked filter paper and tobacco grindings into the tin ashtray, Demyx shooting up in reflex. Luxord cast the boy a sorrowful gaze, something deep and brooding that caused Demyx’s chest to tighten.

“Better get some sleep. A growing boy needs his health.”

Funny how the simplicity of words so mediocre could cause the dam to burst, just that tiny pebble that dislodged such a well-built foundation and reduced it to crumbling remains. So it was no surprise to Demyx when he found himself clinging helplessly to Luxord’s waist, blubbering his apologies into the man’s taught stomach. Luxord said nothing as he gently patted and stroked the boy’s soft mullet with a gentle hand.

“Get a grip. Your eyes will get red.” Luxord muttered softly, running his thumb behind Demyx’s ears and down his jaw as the boy whimpered and sniffled. Demyx tilted his tear-streaked face upwards, forcing his blurry eyes to meet the gamblers, both pairs of blue eyes locked together.

“I’m so sorry Luxord. Please, I can’t take it.” he pleaded, gathering handfuls of number 10’s black cloak in his hands so tightly his knuckles turned white. He sobbed behind gritted teeth as he watched Luxord’s eyes soften. Almost apologetically.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“But I ruined everything!”

“Don’t be so quick to feel sorry for yourself.”

“But I-”

“Hush.” Luxord commanded gently, pressing the pad of his thumb to the babbling boy’s lips. “Everything has been justified.”

“How-?”

“Go to your room.”

It wasn’t a demand; it was the answer to Demyx’s question. With a confused look stuck to his face, he
obediently turned and padded back inside, rubbing his feet on the carpet to bring warmth back into them and to also give Luxord time to flick off the patio light and lock the sliding glass door. “Go ahead, I’m right behind you.” Luxord instructed as he pulled the string to lower the blinds.

So down the hall he went, listening carefully to make sure Luxord followed him to his room. When he got to his room, he already could tell something was amiss. From under the door he could feel a sort of draft blowing across his toes. He cast a curious look at Luxord, but the man just stood leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his muscular chest. So Demyx turned back to the door and pushed it open with a flat palm.
All he could do was gape at the room. Everything was gone. Stripped of posters of his favorite bands, his guitar case, his bed, his drum set, his 10,000-dollar stereo system, everything. The only thing left was a solitary dusk nobody, picking up the last packet of guitar strings before disappearing out the door. Even the paint on his walls was stripped with paint thinner. Demyx turned back to Luxord who was now leaned in the doorway, his eyes locked with Demyx’s.

“Luxord…thank you!” Demyx let a few tears escape the corners of his eyes as he flung himself into the man, startling the gambler so they fell to the thin carpet. He wrapped his limbs around the older man, burying his face into his incredibly long neck.

“Thank you, thank you!” Demyx felt as if he repented for every sin that existed on earth. So this was what penitential forgiveness was. The most glorious feeling on the whole damn planet, he gathered.
Maybe Luxord was so amused by Demyx’s relief, or maybe it was the strong lingering fumes from paint thinner, but he had to throw back his head and laugh. What was it Demyx thought earlier? Something about amendment being the most glorious feeling?

Fuck that.

Luxord’s laugh was something even angels swooned over. Maybe because Demyx never actually heard the man laugh, or maybe it brought out the bittersweet humor of the shrewd man, but he just sounded so good, so human. The deep-throated laughter bounced off the bare walls and echoed in Demyx’s head long after he finished.

“You’re one fucked-up weirdo, you know that?” the smile in Luxord’s voice changed the world for the sitar player. Demyx raised his head and looked into Luxord’s face, the handsome man’s blond goatee still twitching with suppressed chuckles. Even his eyes were shiny with tears of laughter.

“I’m so thankful…I swear I’ll never do that again. Boy what a relief, I’m gonna work so hard my knuckles will bleed….” Demyx blabbed in a flurry of words, past coherency as he tried to repair the already fixed right, though it was still a little shaky. Luxord smiled as he watched the boy blunder on with the efforts of future plans, saying nothing.

Then he kissed him.

No warning, no heads-up. He simply leaned down and pushed his lips over the sitar player’s. Demyx’s brain short-circuited as all his senses were filled with nothing but Luxord. He moaned musically when those amazingly full lips moved gently over his own in a slow circular motion, causing his head to tilt back and forth in small movements. Too soon, he felt Luxord pull back, breaking the hunger-filled embrace to put a few inches of sanity between the two. He cleared his throat uncomfortably as he untangled Demyx’s arms from his waist.

“Sorry. I don’t know what got into me.” He excused himself, not sounding sincere in the least.

So this was what kind of man Luxord was. He was just as childish as Demyx in the humane sense. How could Demyx look past all that? Luxord was complex, no doubt, but he wore his feelings out on his sleeves, and with cloaks like theirs, sleeves are granted to be rather large. All Demyx allowed himself to see was the cruel, uncaring jackass that lived to making his life a living hell. But what kind of man would cry over his hobby destroyed beyond repair? Or call out for his mother while he slept? Or was kind enough the repay Demyx, that foolish, foolish boy, by getting payback?

Luxord would. Did. Because that’s who he was. Is. Just Luxord.

“Ahh…” Demyx started, wanting so say something to keep Luxord with him.

“Yes?” Luxord asked, almost as if he practiced for the moment.

“W-where am I going to sleep?” he blurted out hastily, the only card he had to play. How could he hope to win against a gambler?

Luxord’s lips curved slightly as he stroked his goatee, trying to hide the smile behind his hand. “Well I suppose you could sleep on the floor. However,” he said as Demyx’s shoulders slumped. “I guess one night won’t make a difference, right?”

Demyx looked up hopefully, only leaping up in excitement when the man nodded. He took Luxord’s hand him both of his in a tight grip. “I’ll sleep on the end! Or even under the bed, whatever you want!”

“Jeez kid! No wonder I slap your mouth so much. It needs to be tightened.”

Demyx fell silent, put out. Luxord felt bad so he ruffled the thick mop of dirty blond hair. “We can share. I don’t mind.” So back into the room they went. Luxord could feel Demyx’s little wing bones in his shoulders stiffen when he spotted the stains on the walls. He sniffed once when he saw the large pile of discarded posters, crumpled and balled together for garbage day. The now bare wall looked like a barren wasteland.

“Luxord, I’m so sorry about…” unable to say why, he just waved his hand vaguely around the room. Luxord shrugged good-naturedly as he began undressing, preparing for bed.

“To be perfectly honest, I don’t mind all that much.”

“B-but I ruined all that work. The money…”

“Hey no worries. I used your paycheck.”

“My….what?” Demyx said dangerously, eyes narrowing as he studied the bare back of the blond man.

“I used your money to pay for those poster.”

“We get paychecks?!” Demyx shrieked, far beyond pissed. “How come I never got paid?!”

“I used them, remember?” Luxord tossed his clothes to the opposite side of his room, fully naked as he pulled the sheets back on the bed.


“So, wall or end?”

Demyx panted for breath now that his lungs felt too small. He glared furiously at the gambler.

“Death unto assholes!” he roared as he threw himself at Luxord, knocking both into the bed as pillows and blankets billowed around them. They wrestled furiously, muscles flexing and sweat running down bare limbs as they battled for dominance. Finally, both too exhausted to carry on, they both fell limp, the blankets kicked to the floor so they could cool off.

“What kind of person are you, attacking a naked unarmed man?” Luxord said sardonically, wiping sweat off his brow with his forearm. Demyx turned his head towards Luxord, no longer angry.

“So now that I know you stole my money, will you be nicer to me?”

“Only if I continue to get your cash.”

“You’re not serious.”

“Am I?”

“Ass.”

“Hole.”

“What?”

“It’s a game, right? You say a word, and I say another word that comes to my mind. So when you say ‘ass’, I think ‘hole’. So, my turn; Fag.”

“Uh…Michael Jackson.” Demyx ventured uncertainly.

“Your turn.”

“Hmmm…men.”

“All me and more, baby. Kinky.”

“Sex.”

“Sweaty bodies.”

“Pervert.”

“All me and more.”

“Lame…”

“You.”

“Ass..”

“Hole. C’mon, we did that one already. Here, I’ll start again. Fuck.”

“You?”

“Not funny kiddo, you couldn’t give me a decent fuck even if I was paralyzed from the waist down.”

“Damn it’s hot.” The sitar player didn’t even acknowledge Luxord as he pulled his cloak over his head and tossed it to the floor, now equally naked.

“You don’t wear anything under that?”

“You do?”

“Well at least a pair of underwear.”

“Don’t wear any.”

“Well that’s news to me.” Luxord said sarcastically.

“Hey Luxord?”

“Mm?”

“Why’d you kiss me?”

Silence ensued for a good minute. Luxord finally sighed deeply, his hairless chest rising a few inches up as he filled his lungs. He brought a hand to his face and rubbed his sore temples. “I dunno…call it curiosity.”

“Oh.”

Luxord rolled over and propped up on his elbow. “That sounded rather disappointed, squirt. What’s on your mind?”

Demyx turned crimson at the scrutiny. “I-I didn’t mean anything by it. I just-”

“Demyx.” Luxord broke in seriously.

Demyx swallowed hard. “Yeah?”

“You want a fucking?”

“Er…not exactly in that sense-”

“Look kiddo.” he pushed Demyx onto his back, still propped up over him. “This is a life or death question. Do you want sex?”

Demyx was in a pickle, but a damn tasty one. On the plus side, he could get the fucking of his life. On the minus side, he could be shamed for all eternity and still maybe get a fucking. Well let’s think.

“Yeah.”

“Cool.” Luxord leaned down and kissed Demyx again. This time Demyx responded instead of just gaping like a fish
in the market. He was pleased with himself as he returned the closed-mouth kiss, pressing his pliable lips into the crannies of Luxord’s. It was amazing how warm they were, warming all of Demyx deep down inside the pit of his belly, coils of heat roiling up to fill his entire being with white-hot desire.

Growing bored, Luxord pried Demyx’s lips open with his tongue, forcing the even hotter muscle deep into the boy’s mouth. Demyx jolted at the sensation as he felt the powerful apparatus squirmed all around his mouth, coating the entire inside with spit. Demyx finally snapped to and began assisting. Wrapping his arms around Luxord’s neck, he tilted his head to the side for a more comfortable position. His toes curled when he heard
the sluiced sound of wet lips latching together.

“Mm!” he moaned as he pushed his tongue into Luxord’s mouth in response.

Luxord pulled back, a thin line of saliva still attached to their lips, stretching out tightly until it broke. “I love it when you sing like that.”

“I’m a musician, remember?”

“Funny.”

“Luxord.” Demyx whined. “I thought we were gonna fuck.”

Luxord laughed aloud again, making Demyx tingle with excitement. And horniness.

“Well aren’t you the big bad tough guy. Fine, reach into my bedside table, second drawer.”

Rolling over, Demyx fumbled around until he slid the cherry wood drawer open and pulled out a slightly crumpled tube.

“Lube Luxord?”

“Yeah, don’t want you staining my sheet with tears.” he grinned, taking the tube from Demyx’s trembling fingers. He popped the top open with his thumb, seemed to think for a moment, the shook his head and tossed the container onto the sheets.

“First, suck me Demyx.”

The words were hardly understood as the blood rushed in Demyx’s ears. Nodding once, he wiggled farther down the bed until he was at the foot of the bed. Luxord pushed himself up so he reclined comfortably against the headboard, looking down at Demyx with expectancy.

Taking a deep breath, Demyx got to his knees and, curling over, grasped Luxord’s stiff cock with both hands.

“Ngh! Careful kiddo. It’s a little sensitive.”

Demyx smiled apologetically as he loosened his grip slightly. Focusing completely on the task at hand, he began slowly stroking.

“Ahh…much better.” Luxord sighed with pleasure, letting his head rest against the wall, exposing the long length of his pale neck. Not taking his eyes off the man’s face, Demyx began stroking with more purpose, running his palms down the base up to the very tip, where pre-cum leaked, making his hands more slick. His movements became bigger and faster, running his thumbs over the weeping end of Luxord’s dick, spreading the clear sticky substance over the head. Luxord moaned softly, his hips slowly rocking back and forth in Demyx’s hands.

“You’re a pro, Dem.” he muttered thickly, his eyes squeezed shut as his toes curled and relaxed spastically.

Encouraged by Luxord’s praise, Demyx pushed his hands low on the hot shaft and pressed his lips to the tip. He liked the way Luxord gasped sharply, his back arching off the pillows and knees bent as he tightened the muscles in his lean legs. He also liked the way Luxord’s pre-cum coated his lips like ice cream, but oh so much tastier. He began licking the tip with long, slow strokes as if he really were licking an ice cream cone, putting the head between his lips before pulling his mouth back up to release, his lips tightening to fit the shape of the heated flesh.

Wanting more of the delicious juices, Demyx swallowed Luxord up, taking up to half of his cock into his hungry mouth. Luxord yelped through gritted teeth in surprise. He bit into his hand to keep from making too much noise. That erotic image made Demyx starved for Luxord’s cock, Luxord’s pleasures. So back to sucking he went, relaxing the working muscles of his throat to accept Luxord completely, his nose buried in sweet-smelling pubic hair as the tip of Luxord’s dick scraped over his molars.

I didn’t know they grew in, Demyx thought as he sucked deeply, hollowing his cheeks to provide a vacuum. He could feel Luxord grow impatient with the teasing, smiling inwardly as Luxord grabbed a handful of Demyx’s mullet and pushed his head up and down, his hips rocking into the wet cavern.

“You’re such a tease.” he grunted as perspiration broke out in a thin sheen over his smooth pale skin. His eyes glittered lustily as released Demyx’s head and began pushing his cock into the boy’s eager mouth, letting his hips rise and fall on the soft mattress. The angle was making movement somewhat limited, so Demyx grabbed Luxord’s thighs and tugged the man farther down so now he was stretched out over the bed. Resting his slim body between Luxord’s amazing legs, he put one hand on each side of Luxord’s hips as his head began bobbing up and down, giving Luxord the blowjob of his best potential. His head moved faster and faster, not even hindered by the sore muscles in his neck from the constant movement. With his free hands, he cupped Luxord’s testicles carefully, rubbing his thumbs over the soft skin.

“Ah Demyx! You son of a…are you sure you’re a virgin? Ah…ah…where’d you pick that up? I…ahhhhh!” Luxord stiffened so tightly it looked as if his whole body became a single bone with no joints. Demyx quickly released Luxord’s balls so he could use his hands to hold the surging cock still, careful to catch every drop of cum in his mouth, swallowing loudly. Now that was a meal Demyx could eat everyday.

Luxord panted in amazement. Never would he have imagined something like….like that! “Good God kiddo. That about ran me dry.”

Praise was not common in the house of Organization XIII, but when you got it, it sure as hell meant something.

“Thank y-”

“Notice how I said it about ran me dry.” Luxord growled playfully. “Besides, we still haven’t fucked. And from the looks of it, you need it bad.” he was referring to Demyx’s painful erection, which had grown harder during the blowjob. Demyx’s eyes grew brighter when Luxord bent at the waist and took Demyx’s throbbing cock into his mouth. Demyx’s spine went ridged at the sensation, both legs going deliciously numb. He loved the particular sensation of the bristly goatee on his overheated flesh, tickling him. Through half-lidded eyes, Demyx watched Luxord’s head move slowly up and down with amazing control and precision. Unable to resist, he let his hands run through the short shorn hair, the golden strands tickling his palms.

When Luxord decided he had done enough the satisfy the sitar player for the moment, he pulled his head up, his tongue running over his lips to catch the few drops of pre-cum.

“Are you sure you’re a virgin?” Demyx panted, his hot breath washing over Luxord’s grinning face.

“Touché.” he chuckled. “Enough play, let’s get down to business.” Reaching over Demyx, he fumbled through the wadded blankets to retrieve the bottle of lube. Demyx noticed with pleasure that the gambler’s cock was already partially stiff again. He took the semi-hard shaft in his hands to play.

“Nuh!” Luxord swatted his hands away and grabbed the boy’s jaw in a firm grasp. “Have patience.” he teased before giving Demyx a heart-felt kiss and sitting back up.

“Ok, now the real fun begins.” Trying to flick the lid off the tube before Luxord realized he already lost the cap, he squeezed a generous amount onto his index and middle finger, rubbing his thumb over the digits to slick the entire length. When that passed his approval, he pushed Demyx down with his free hand, leaving three parallel lines of lube on the boy’s shoulder.

“You got that everywhere, didn’t you?” Demyx said sourly as Luxord pushed his knees apart.

“You’re such a smart-ass.” Luxord countered by jamming one greasy finger into Demyx’s hole. That shut him right up as the sitar player slammed his teeth together so loudly he felt it in his head. He glared at the laughing man who obviously got his jollies off of Demyx’s painfully erotic pleasure.

With his un-lubed hand he pressed it flat against Demyx’s rather narrow chest, locating the pink nipple under his index finger where he began slowly rolling the nubbin of sensitive skin in circles. While that went on, he resumed prodding the boy with the embedded digit, slipping a number two closely after. He pushed in hard, making the boy mewl and writhe with pleasure. With that sort of persuasion, Luxord even pressed a third finger inside, without the help of lubrication.

“Luxord!” the boy moaned. “I want! Stop playing and fuck me!” he clamped his muscles down over Luxord’s fingers, illustrating how serious he was. Luxord complied by removing his fingers and lifting the boy’s legs over his own hips as he kneeled before the boy’s opening, leaning over Demyx to capture his hot, hot mouth in another furious, sloppy kiss.

“Ready or not, here I come.” he growled throatily as he pressed the tip of his cock to Demyx’s hole. After the boy’s overly exuberant nod, he slammed forward, driving himself deep into Demyx. The boy let out a guttural moan at the long awaited penetration. Grasping Demyx’s hips in both hands, he drove harder and harder into the boy, amazed at the white-hot tightness, so slick and delicious it almost seemed unreal.

But damn it was. Both began moaning and yelping loudly, not even caring that their voices echoed throughout the halls. Luxord could feel his orgasm coming as well as Demyx’s. He warned Demyx by snarling heatedly, and he received the same response. So he pushed in with all the intensity he could muster, his hips jerking in an uncontrollable movement. Finally he was at the peak, his spine going rigid with each thrust. At the final moment, he cried out loudly, throwing his head back until he heard vertebra snapping and popping. He loved the sensation of his seed coating deep inside Demyx, the hot syrup running back down his cock. Demyx came shortly after, sitting up stiffly as his body convulsed.

The bare neck stretched out before Luxord drove him mad, so he lunged forward and clamped his teeth on the side, not penetrating but marking the skin a deep reddish purple. Eventually, after Demyx spilled his seed over his and Luxord’s bare stomachs, they fell exhaustedly onto the damp sheets, collecting their breaths.
After they regrouped, the shifted so they could find a more comfortable position, which resulted in Luxord sprawled on his stomach with Demyx lying limply over him, his head resting on the back of Luxord’s neck.

“Hey Luxord?”

“Hm? Wha?”

“How much did I make exactly?”

“Let’s not go there.”