Drinking Problem

(Author’s Note: This story begins with a rather short introductory chapter, but never fear; more chapters will be added very soon.

All these sexy men don’t belong to me. They are the sole property of SquEnix, m’kay.

This is not only a comedy, but it is also meant to be fluffy, smutty, and holiday-y. Eventually.)


Drinking Problem

//Flower petals. Many of them. Raining down like a sweetly scented snow.

Each and every petal fell to caress the skin of their summoner, the flushed, fair skin trembling with each breath, a chest beneath the flesh heaving for air well-earned.

Mahogany hair spilled out over a black silk pillowcase as the face it framed contorted into a mask of pleasure. Plush, pink lips opened wide to release a breathy cry of bliss, light azure eyes fluttering open only to stare blindly at the ceiling.

The body below gave way with each thrust inside, sliding along the satin surface of the bed, moments and inches away from smacking that pretty head that commanded it against the headboard. But strong, worn hands grabbed at unblemished hips, dragging that gorgeous form into each and every movement.

"Luxord! I will...!" Those words came from those lips like a sweet song that soothed the soul, that beautiful face from which the voice came tossed back by a crane of the neck. "I will...if you do not stop, I will...!"

Those sky blue eyes shut again and those lips opened to unleash a cry of pure, unadulterated pleasure...//

"Boo!"

A certain blonde gambler sat bolt upright in bed only to be flattened by a dirty-blonde musician, and he had to blink a few times to even see who it was beyond the eye-full of sequins that greeted him when his dark blue eyes opened.

"G'mornin, Luxy!" Demyx exclaimed, straddling the man's waist and putting his hands on his own hips, smiling gleefully like he did every morning. But this one was special to all castle residents, as well as those outside The World That Never Was. "Oh, and Happy Halloween!"

"Halloween?" Luxord grunted, grimacing at the alcohol-induced throb that tore his brain in half that could only mean the start of a nasty hangover. The night before, Luxord had gotten back from a mission in the very same Halloween Town, and, downright sick of being a zombie bartender, he came back to the castle, drank in abundance, masturbated sadly and fell asleep. It was too bad his morning had to begin in such a piss-poor way that he wished he were still in Spooksville. "What the hell're you supposed to be, squirt?"

The sitar-player was sporting a rather tacky rocker outfit, his lean chest exposed for all to see. As if anyone could really focus on his physique-they would be too blinded by the sequins that adorned the entire outfit to pay any care. But the white latex flares he wore accentuated his nice, round ass, which was now ignorantly pressed to the Gambler of Fate's morning wood. His libido never did cease to haunt him.

The only disturbing about the whole get-up was that he was covered in blood. Fake-looking blood, but blood nonetheless. Not to mention it actually looked flavored. Fake, rotting cuts adorned every piece of exposed flesh, the larger ones residing in their adhesive glory on his forehead, chest, and on the back of one of his hands.

"I'm dead Elvis!" Demyx said incredulously, looking at Luxord almost accusingly. "And what are you supposed to be, sleepy-head? A bed-bug?"

"I'm a 'get-the-hell-off-me'," Luxord growled, grabbing the dirty-blonde by the hips and trying to sit up.

But those surprisingly strong musician's hands caught him in the middle of the movement and pinned the gambler right back down against the bed, causing an indignant grunt to escape his lips.

"You're a what?" Demyx peered down at the older Nobody, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "Did you forget that today is Halloween?"

"I was about to before you came in and decided to have a sugar-induced seizure on my lap. Now get off."

"Seizure? I'm not having a-" His sentence stopped in mid flow once the musician felt that hardness against his plastic-clad ass, a blush appearing on his blood-soaked cheeks.

"Now that you've discovered my pet snake, I suggest you get out of my room and never speak of this again. Is that clear?" The bleach-blonde snarled, finally getting his way and sitting up.

"Uh, yeah! Right!" Demyx slid off of Luxord's lap and turned away the moment he could, tripping over himself on his way to the door. "Oh, but, Luxord, I forgot! I was going to remind you about the Halloween party this evening. Axel and I are going, remember?" The sitar-player could only find it in himself to peek shyly over his shoulder at the other, his face still rather pink.

Actually, Luxord had forgotten entirely. Axel had mentioned it to him on his way to his room, and he didn't even know how he responded. But, to his disdain, it must have been an affirmative answer he gave for the red-head's little butt buddy to come and play zombie rock-star messenger.

"...Um. Yeah. Sure," was how he responded this time around, fidgeting under his bed sheets and comforter. "I'll...be ready in a moment."

"Okay!" Demyx chirped happily, turning around fully and clapping his hands together. But it was short-lived when the naïve dirty-blonde caught a glimpse of what he thought was a bulge underneath the thick blanket on Luxord's lap, and he darted out of the room looking like a deer that had just snapped out of its headlight stare, tripping over himself on the way down the hall.

(Author’s Note: I hope you enjoyed, and reviews will help keep this story going. <3)