Possessions

Author's Note: This story is now no longer a three-shot! Hooray! (It'll probably be around four or five chapters.)

Also, I do refer to Nobodies being able to feel certain things (pain, etc.,) at several points. That's because I don't think that losing your heart would make it hurt any less if you, say, broke your arm. For the purposes of this story, physical sensations are something Nobodies can still feel, although they lack the capacity to feel anything emotionally.

He was half-dragged, shaking and wild-eyed and barely conscious, away from the screaming and blood and terrible monsters, and was taken down a swirling, shadowy black hole that hung suspended in the air at his feet. The shorter man who had been at his side when he'd first returned to consciousness took one of his arms over his own shoulders and helped him limp, slowly, down a shifting gray corridor where foreign and elaborate symbols floated in and out of existence before his eyes. Then he was taken through another of the dark holes, and he and his smaller companion were standing on a white marble balcony before another man, taller and wearing the same long black leather coat the smaller one wore.

The taller man inclined his head, and addressed the shorter one, speaking in deep, rich tones. "Is this the one you were telling me about, Zexion?"

"Yes, Lord Xemnas," the shorter man-Zexion-replied. "It appears that my assumptions about the strength of his heart were correct. When it was taken from his body, a Nobody was the result."

The man Zexion referred to as Xemnas turns and stares at him, and he thinks that this must be the strangest man he's ever seen before in his life, with his tanned skin and long silvery hair. However, it's his eyes that are the most horrifying. He feels as if those orange-amber eyes are going straight through him and burning a hole right out the other side. He suddenly thinks that the silver-haired man can see everything he's ever felt before, every care, worry, and regret. All the days he's felt happiness rising in him like a balloon, anger burning at his gut, and sadness like a lead weight in his feet are dragged out for him to inspect. This man can see to the depths of his soul, and nothing is hidden from him.

He whimpers and tears his eyes from the silver-haired one's face, looking down at the balcony instead. Beside him, Zexion stands stiffly, eyes focused on his Superior, his whole body radiating tension.

Xemnas smiles, a knife's razor edge. "He is fit to join this Organization," he murmurs softly. Then, louder, "Number VI. Take our newest member to your quarters and get him dressed. A meeting will be held in fifteen minutes in the Round Room so he can be presented to the others."

The tall man is gone in a flurry of shadows, and Zexion steers him away from the balcony. They go up and down countless flights of stairs and through long hallways. Everything is in shades of white and gray, bleak and lonely as the middle of winter. He shivers a little despite himself.

Eventually, they arrive at a white door with a stylized number "VI" on it in Roman numerals. Zexion pushes it open to reveal a nondescript gray room with an equally nondescript gray bed in the center and a window showing a patch of blank, dark sky outside. Lying on the sheets is a pile of dark clothing.

"Go on," Zexion says, releasing him and giving him a little push towards the bed. "You have to get dressed."

He stumbles a little but manages to make the few steps to the bed, sitting down heavily. He picks up the clothes: a long, black leather coat with a hood, black leather pants, a black shirt, boots, and gloves. In short, it's the same outfit Zexion and the strange silver-haired man, Xemnas, are wearing. Running his fingers over the soft, sleek leather, he wonders how they knew he was coming, and how they managed to get clothing in exactly his size without taking any measurements. But his head feels as if it's stuffed with cotton, and his tongue is a fat, dry sausage in his mouth, and he can't manage to get his questions out properly. He slowly picks up the coat and looks up at Zexion, wondering if the other man will leave while he changes.

Zexion's face is impassive. "Well, what are you waiting for?" He says, a touch of impatience creeping into his voice. "Dress now, or we'll be late for the meeting and Xemnas will be angry."

He suddenly realizes that what he's wearing now are little more than rags, stained and dirty with blood and an oily black substance. He thinks of the place he's just left, and remembers the screaming, all the people falling to the ground while black things ripped their chests open with claws and teeth and devoured their hearts. Bile rises in his throat, and he thinks for a moment that he's going to throw up. But he swallows hard and the sensation passes. He practically tears off his clothing in his rush to be rid of it, quickly putting on the garments provided for him.

He thinks that it's a good thing half of Zexion's face remains hidden. The way his visible turquoise eye focuses on him while he changes makes him drop his pants twice while getting in them and fumble with the coat's zipper. The shorter man's gaze rakes over him, drinking in what seems to be every single detail of his body. It's not nearly as bad as when Xemnas was staring at him, but it still manages to put his body on edge.

After he is properly clothed, Zexion helps get him to the feet. He still feels unsteady, but is able to walk with some assistance. He watches in awe as the steel-haired man forms another shadowy dark hole in the air simply by holding out his palm and concentrating for a moment. They travel through it and emerge in the center of a circle of stark white thrones. The nine thrones vary in height, but even the shortest is easily three times his own height. The tallest of them is only around seven feet away from hitting the ceiling.

He gazes at the seats in awe, wondering what could possibly be practical about sitting so high off the ground. Then, seven swirls of black shadows appear above the thrones, which clear away to reveal seven black-robed men sitting atop them. In the highest throne sits Xemnas, smirking down at him as if he was something particularly delicious on the man's dinner plate.

He whimpers, a half-remembered past moment of fear brushing along his spine in a parody of emotion, and instinctively clutches at Zexion's arm. The other man has thankfully remained by his side in the center of the circle of thrones, rather than going up to sit in his own. Zexion squeezes his elbow reassuringly in return.

"Fellow Nobodies," Xemnas says, in a loud, clear voice that echoes slightly in the circular room. "I am pleased to announce that today, a new Nobody has been chosen to wear the coat. With his arrival, the Organization's number has grown to nine."

The other men in the thrones applaud, and he's never been more confused in his life. No one told him about any Organization when he got here, and he doesn't remember signing up to join anything… And just what in the world is a Nobody? He turns to ask Zexion, but isn't able to speak before Xemnas continues.

"Now, let us give our newest member a name." In another flurry of dark shadows, the tall man is standing in front of him and Zexion. He waves his hand, and four letters in stylized white script float in front of his face: an M, a D, an E, and a Y. The letters spin around his head, first slowly, then faster and faster, until he's feeling dizzy. Zexion gives his elbow another squeeze, and he thinks that what's going on right now must be terribly important, but can't for the life of him understand why-

Then the tall man snaps his fingers and the letters stop, floating in front of his face. Only now, a fifth one is floating among with the original four: the letter X. Together the letters spell out what could pass for a name, though not one he's ever heard before: DEMYX.

"Demyx," he whispers, tasting the name against his tongue. "Demyx," he says again, a little louder, this time listening as the two syllables echo out into the now silent room. He supposes it's as good a name as any other, so he might as well take it. After all, he's having trouble remembering right now if he ever had any other name.

"Your new name," Xemnas says softly. Then louder, "Everyone, welcome Demyx, our Number IX."

There is more applause from the men on the thrones. Zexion gives him a little smile. It's just a quick upwards flash of the lips before his face reverts to its usual stoic expression, but it's still the first hint of an emotion the newly named Demyx has seen from the steel-haired man since arriving here. And Demyx thinks that he should be feeling something, fear or apprehension or excitement, anything at all, but he doesn't.

He feels nothing at all.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Xemnas goes on for a little while longer, about hearts, and killing things called "Heartless" to complete something else called "Kingdom Hearts." Demyx doesn't listen too closely. It's all too much to take in as it is, and he's beginning to feel faint. The room starts to spin, the thrones blur together into one white mass, and Demyx sways back and forth on his feet. He feels arms wrap around his waist and shoulders, steadying him and keeping him from falling.

"Yo, Superior," says someone from up on the thrones. "The new guy looks a little faint to me. You oughta let him go and rest."

The Superior must have given his permission, because Demyx feels Zexion guide him through more of those strange dark transportation holes, and back into the little gray bedroom from earlier. Demyx is laid down carefully on the bed.

"Zexion…" he moans, reaching out a black-gloved hand for the shorter man. His head slumps back onto the pillow, now feeling like someone dumped a ton of rocks into it.

His hand is taken immediately in a firm grip. "Yes Demyx, I'm here. Don't worry, what you're going through right now is normal. Most new Nobodies are weak or faint for a couple of days at first. It will pass as you adjust to your new state of existence."

"But what's going on?" Demyx bursts out. "What are Nobodies, and what the hell is this 'Organization' thing that everyone keeps talking about? What happened to me? Where's my family, and…"

But Demyx trails off as he realizes that he can't clearly recall his family. His mind's eye only sees vague shapes, colors and sounds. Laughter, the scent of cooking fish, long blonde hair tied back with a ribbon. He tries to concentrate on these fuzzy excuses for memories, hoping they'll sharpen into something clearer, but he just feels so damn tired. It doesn't take him too long to realize that everything he "remembers" is like this: blurs and whirls of sensation rather than anything concrete. The first thing he can remember clearly is waking up to a town in ruins and Zexion crouching next to him, then coming here.

"Am I dead!" He cries out, eyes opening wide as the realization that his memories are ruined hits him. His grip on Zexion's hand tightens to the point where it has to be painful, but the steel-haired man does not try and break the hold. "Why can't I remember anything?"

Zexion looks at him for a long moment, expression inscrutable. Then he sits down at the edge of the bed, takes a deep breath, and explains.

At first, Demyx just listens quietly as Zexion talks, as the shorter man tells him in clipped, clinical tones that he's lost his heart to a creature called a Heartless. He can no longer feel emotions except for what he remembers about them. Zexion goes on to explain the Heartless more fully, and then the Organization. He talks about the Nobodies' homeworld and their castle stronghold at its center. There's no emotion in his speech, no passion; it's like listening to a college professor lecture at a class of students just before lunchtime. But the softness of his voice, and the way his gaze is focused on Demyx and only Demyx, has the newest Nobody hanging on his every word.

When Zexion pauses for a moment after explaining the Organization's purpose, Demyx leaps in with questions. He has what seems like an endless amount, even for his naturally curious mind, but Zexion answers them all patiently and politely. It must be hard to get annoyed with someone when you don't have a heart to feel annoyance with, Demyx thinks. In this way, he learns the names and titles of all the Organization members. He learns that, despite all of Zexion's careful scheming and manipulation, Saix remains the highest in Xemnas's favor. He learns that each Nobody has a specific power that only they can control, as well as a special weapon, and that these things eventually emerge after careful training and study. Finally, Demyx comes to understand that he is to be Zexion's protégé, and will remain under the shorter man's care until he is able to undertake missions on his own.

When Demyx finally falls silent, muscles going limp on the bed with exhaustion, Zexion asks, "No more questions, then?"

Demyx nods, his eyelids drooping over intense blue-green eyes exactly the same shade as Myde's. His hand goes up to rest just underneath his clavicle, and where before there was a gentle, steady beat signifying that he was alive, now there is nothing but silence. Although Demyx's mind tells him that the proper response to this is to break down and scream, he's just too tired to care. Instead, he falls asleep on Zexion's bed.

Zexion watches Demyx sleep for a few moments. Although there is no way to tell time in the World That Never Was, he thinks deep down that it must be very late. Vexen and Lexaeus are waiting for him down in the labs.

Calling up a distant memory of when Ienzo and his mother were still alive, Zexion reaches out and gently brushes a stray lock of dirty blond hair off Demyx's forehead. "You're just as perfect as I imagined you'd be," he whispers to the sleeping Nobody. "And you're all mine now."

Then he gets up and heads down to the labs. It wouldn't do to keep Vexen and Lexaeus waiting for him any longer than they already have been. Vexen will probably already feign anger at his tardiness, and Zexion grimaces at the thought. Although all the Nobodies in the Organization fake emotion to an extent, it always brings up irritating memories when Vexen does it.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Demyx wakes up, he is alone in Zexion's room. The room looks darker and the shadows in the corners seem deeper without the other Nobody's presence, and Demyx can't help but shiver and pull the blankets a little tighter around him at the realization that he's alone in a strange room on an even stranger world. He can't actually feel afraid, of course, but he can remember what it was like to feel fear. Flashes of memory race through his mind at breakneck speeds-running through a dark, cramped little alley in order to escape from a gang of thugs, standing on the violently rocking deck of a ship during a storm-and a cold sweat breaks out across his forehead. When he thinks he sees something moving in the shadows, it's the last straw. The Nobody bolts out of the bedroom.

The hallways are much better, as there are no corners for shadows to hide. However, there also isn't much else around, either. Demyx wanders around the dull white corridors for what felt like hours, not seeing so much as the door to a broom closet. Just as he was starting to wonder how to call for help in finding Zexion, one of the shadowy black holes he'd traveled through with Zexion so many times that day opens up right in front of him, and someone walks out.

Demyx feels he might have had a heart attack if the necessary organ was still there. As it is, the shock's bad enough. Part of what would have been a very loud and very high-pitched scream escapes his mouth before he clamps his jaw down tight, stifling the noise before it can escape all the way.

The man who had just emerged from the shadows ("Dark Portals," Zexion had called them) stared at him, and Demyx stared back. Unlike Zexion, this man was tall and wiry, with enough scars across his face to make even a hardened war veteran cringe. An eyepatch covered his left eye, and his right eye, a bright, catlike yellow in color, stared at Demyx as if he was a new project that needed to be thoroughly analyzed before anything else could be done. Long, silver streaked dark hair was tied back into a ponytail away from his face.

"...Xigbar?" Demyx ventured a guess. Zexion had described all the other Organization members to him in detail earlier, and the image of a man with an eyepatch had stuck particularly well in Demyx's mind. At the time, he thought it was pretty cool. However, the man himself was downright scary.

Xigbar grins upon hearing his name. "Yep, that's me, all right. Nice to meet ya for real, Demyx." He held out a hand and Demyx shook it, feeling the tension in his stomach muscles dissipating.

"Yeah." Demyx feels a smile of his own forming. "So how'd you get that awesome eyepatch?"

Xigbar's grin widens. "Ah, that's a story for another time. It's a little too late to get into it now. You should come and ask me tomorrow though, cause it's one hell of a tale."

"Okay," Demyx replies, still grinning at the thought of making a friend here in the Organization. Feelings or no, it was still nice.

"Also good to see you're up and about. If you feel sick early on, just shake it off, that's what I always say. But you should try to get back to sleep if you can, kiddo. You've got a busy day of training tomorrow, I can guarantee you that."

"Well, I would, but..." Demyx looks down at the ground. Even though he doesn't really feel embarrassed, he can still pretend. "I'm lost. I'm spending the night in Zexion's room, only Zexion's gone and it was really dark and creepy in there, so-"

"Alright, alright." Xigbar holds up his hand for Demyx to stop. "You wanna spend the night in my room? It's nothin' fancy, but I've got a couple extra sheets and pillows. We could maybe make you up a little spot on the floor."

"Hey, that'd be great!" Demyx says, his body relaxing completely now that he didn't have to spend the night alone. "Thanks, Xigbar."

"No problem, kid. Now c'mon, let's-"

"Number II."

Demyx and Xigbar turn to see another Dark Portal open to their left. Zexion steps out, body stiff and visible eye glaring with the force of a thousand two-eyed angry stares. "Leave Demyx alone," he says, voice brimming with anger that he can't truly feel.

"Hey, it's OK, Zexion," says Demyx, who thinks this has to be some sort of misunderstanding. There's no reason for the steel-haired Nobody to act this angry. "Xigbar and me were just talking, it's no big deal-"

"Come here, Demyx," Zexion says, turning the full force of his gaze on the blond for a moment. It's enough to make Demyx cringe. Zexion's body is practically radiating tension and rage, and if he snaps, Demyx really doesn't want to be the one he lets it all out on. So he goes to the shorter Nobody's side, like a proverbial dog with its tail between its legs. Zexion wraps his arm possessively around Demyx's waist. "II, if I find out that you've gone near Demyx again, the consequences will be severe," Zexion bites out, before opening up a Dark Portal and dragging Demyx through it with him. The blond Nobody catches a last glimpse of Xigbar, eye cold and mouth set in a thin, hard line, stalking off into another Portal before he and Zexion are back in Zexion's room.

"Zexion, why'd you do that?" Demyx bursts out. "Xigbar wasn't hurting me or anything! I got lost, that's all, and he was helping me out-"

Zexion turns to look at Demyx, and the expression on his face shuts the taller Nobody up immediately. "In the future, you will not go anywhere without my permission, Demyx. As your mentor, I must know where you are at all times. There are things on this world and even in this very castle that may hurt you, and it is my responsibility to look out for you. You have to be more careful."

Any snappy retorts Demyx might have had died on his tongue. He remembers how it is to feel guilty, all of a sudden, because Zexion is just looking out for him. He was probably worried (or as worried as a Nobody could get, anyway) when he came back to his room to find his charge gone, after all. So the little voice in the back of Demyx's head that's protesting and saying Zexion still had no reason to yell at Xigbar like that is quickly silenced, and the blond nods to show his understanding.

"Good," says Zexion, a little calmer this time. He gets into the bed and pats the space next to him. "Come, let's go back to sleep now."

After his little adventure, Demyx is suddenly feeling very tired again. He climbs into the bed next to the shorter Nobody and curls up into the blankets, hoping to catch a few more hours of rest before he has to really wake up and start his training.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It doesn't take Demyx long to realize that sleep is not forthcoming. Sleeping back to back with Zexion has given him a raging hard-on after only ten minutes. The blond has no idea why this would happen-after all, he has no heart with which to feel emotional attraction toward anyone else. However, it seems as if lust is something his body can still experience. Having only scraps of memories, Demyx has no idea how old he was when he was still alive. But he looks to be in his early twenties, a time when boys are still pretty obsessed with sex and "getting laid." Although Demyx can no longer feel, perhaps his body still has enough hormones to give him a sex drive. A sex drive that's currently being activated.

Thinking this way has done nothing to bring Demyx's erection down. He shifts his position for what must be the tenth time in as many minutes, but his aching cock simply will not allow him to get comfortable. Finally, he gives up and taps Zexion on the shoulder. Hopefully the shorter Nobody can point him towards the nearest bathroom, where he can go and jack off, or failing that, douse himself in cold water.

Zexion turns over and looks at Demyx, his visible eye traveling down the blond's body to focus on the obvious tent he's got in his leather pants. Demyx blushes beet-red, memories of embarrassment flooding his mind. "I-It's not what you think," he stammers. "If you can just tell me where the bathroom is, I-I'll take care of it-"

Zexion smirks, practically the only expression Demyx has seen on his face in the short time they've known each other. "No," the steel-haired man says. He brings his hand down to Demyx's groin and squeezes, nice and firm. Demyx yelps, practically jumping out of the bed at the contact, then turns to stare, wide-eyed, at Zexion.

The steel-haired man is still smirking. "Like that?" He asks, then in one swift move has straddled Demyx's hips. "Do you want me to take care of this little 'problem' for you, Demyx?"

"But...Zexion..."

"Ssh. Just lie back and let me handle this." And with that, Zexion is kissing him, lips hot and demanding against his own. Demyx's mouth drops open in shock, and Zexion takes the opportunity to slide his own tongue in, sliding along Demyx's teeth and exploring every inch of his mouth. The shorter Nobody's hand is back at Demyx's groin, squeezing and stroking through his pants.

Demyx's eyelids droop closed and he moans, loud and needy into Zexion's mouth. Screw having no heart and no emotions, right now his body is screaming pleasure and he'll be damned if he doesn't give in. Although it's only been about a day since he's become a Nobody, the blond can already tell that being void of any feeling is going to be unbearable. So he'll take whatever physical sensations he can get.

Zexion breaks the kiss in order to smirk down at Demyx again. "Good boy," he murmurs, one hand going up to tangle in Demyx's hair, the other working to unzip his fly and push his pants down. "You want me to pleasure you, don't you?"

"Y-yes please...Ah!" Demyx cries out, bucking his hips as Zexion finally succeeds in shoving his pants to the floor and strokes his naked erection. His smirk widening, Zexion removes his hand, leaving Demyx confused and painfully aroused beneath him.

"Please, Zexion, I need more!" Demyx cries, moving his hips more frantically, but Zexion ignores him. The blond reaches for his cock, intending to touch himself if Zexion won't, but his hands are slapped away.

"You are not to go to any other member of the Organization for this, am I clear?" Zexion is staring down at him, visible eye cutting into both of Demyx's. "Only me. I'm the only one who will ever see you like this, who will ever touch you like this."

"Yes! Okay! I promise Zexion, just you!" Demyx yells. He would have promised the universe if Zexion would only keep going.

"Very good," says Zexion, and in less time than Demyx would have thought possible, Zexion has removed the rest of his clothing. Cloak, boots, and shirt go to join his pants on the floor.

Zexion moves his way down Demyx's stomach and hips in bites and kisses and licks and nibbles. Everywhere his mouth goes, bright red marks are left behind. Each spot those talented lips, tongue, and teeth touch causes Demyx to scream and moan and arch up into the shorter Nobody's touch. His skin feels as if Zexion is setting it on fire with only the lightest of caresses, but this is the most pleasurable burn the blond has ever felt and he never wants it to end. And just when he's certain he'll come from Zexion's teasing alone, the steel-haired Nobody drops his head a few final inches and takes the whole of Demyx's cock into his mouth in one swallow.

Instantly, he forgets everything-his name, where he is, who he is. All that matters is that warm mouth around his erection. Zexion licks up and down the sensitive vein at the base and swirls his tongue around the head, and Demyx is in paradise. Not thinking he tries to buck his hips upwards, and suddenly Zexion's hands are at his sides, pinning him to the bed so he can't move. When the steel-haired Nobody starts humming gently against Demyx's cock, the blond's entire world goes white. With a loud cry of "ZEXION!" he comes in great spurts right into Zexion's mouth. The shorter Nobody swallows it all, with a satisfied smile like a cat that's just gotten the cream.

Demyx slumps back into the pillows, flushed and exhausted, his cock limp and sated. But Zexion isn't finished with him quite yet. "Demyx," he says, unzipping the fly of his pants and freeing his own erection from it's confines. "I want you to do for me what I just did for you."

"What?" Suddenly fully awake, Demyx stares at Zexion's cock. It's actually pretty big, not at all what he would have expected from the shorter Nobody. A few drops of pre-cum leak from the angry red tip, staining the bedsheets.

"Put your mouth on me, now," Zexion commands, and his visible eye catches onto both of Demyx's and holds them with a look that demands absolute obedience. The blond Nobody has a strange urge to sweep back those long steely blue bangs and see if Zexion actually has another eye under all that hair, but at the same time he knows such a gesture would not be appreciated.

Zexion's gaze sends chills down Demyx's spine in some bodily reaction that no longer has an emotion to go with it. So he leans forward and takes the head of the shorter Nobody's cock in his mouth, wondering if perhaps doing this for Zexion will be enough to bring him into arousal again.

Demyx has no idea what he's doing, and his fragmented memories provide no help. So he sucks for all he's worth, grimacing at the bitter taste of pre-cum on his tongue. He feels Zexion's hands at the back of his head, gently but firmly pressing him forward to take more of his length in. Zexion is unusually quiet, and at first the blond thinks this means he's doing a bad job. But then he sneaks a look up at Zexion, and sees that his eyes are closed in rapture. The look of utter bliss on the steel-haired Nobody's face makes it seem as if he's touching heaven itself, and Demyx can't believe he's the one bringing him there. Emboldened, he sucks faster, his tongue swirling at the head of Zexion's cock like the shorter Nobody did for him. Zexion's hands come up to tangle in Demyx's hair and his breath hitches, his muscles jerking slightly in pleasure. Then, with a soft cry, he comes in Demyx's mouth.

Demyx gags, leaning over to spit the salty, bitter cum onto the floor. Zexion either doesn't notice or doesn't care. He leans over to bury his face in the crook of Demyx's neck, inhaling deeply. "You smell like home," he murmurs. Then Zexion settles back onto his side of the bed, turning over to go back to sleep as if nothing's happened at all.

Demyx has never had more questions in his life. Why did Zexion say he "smelled like home?" Why did he remain fully clothed while they fucked, when Demyx is naked?" And why is he so possessive over someone he's only known for a day? Why, why, why...?

Why did any of this happen to him, when only yesterday he'd been alive and happy?

The blond can't even fathom the answers, but after his orgasm, he finds that he's suddenly exhausted. So he curls up among the cum-stained sheets, his only companions a silent chest, a fragmented mind, and an enigmatic mentor he can't even begin to figure out.


Reviews are lovely.