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The girl hanging off his arm is trying to talk to him, but Xigbar isn't really listening. He's heard it all before, if not from this particular club bunny, and he's not interested. She likes him, or she wants him to think she likes him so she can get backstage, or she wants to get backstage and she's willing to give it up for him to get there. Whatever.
Nobody's Fool has finished clearing the stage, and the Empty Hearts are setting up, and Xigbar's watching the crowd. Between sets is when people are most likely to get rowdy, when some asshole decides that the third shot of vodka has made him tough enough to take on the room. Even if he were interested in the set of tits being crushed up against him right now, this wouldn't be the time to do anything about it.
Sure enough, it looks like somebody's starting something back by the stage door. "Scuse me, sweetheart," Xigbar says, shrugging the girl off and heading over there. Some jackass has gotten up close and personal with one of the kids from Nobody's Fool -- Xigbar can't hear the words, but he's caught the tone, angry and aggressive, and the guy looks about ready to hit the kid.
Xigbar has always believed in hitting first.
He drops one hand on the asshole's shoulder and yanks him backward -- it's been years since he was in the service, but like they say, you can take the SOLDIER out of the mako, but you can't take the mako out of the SOLDIER. The asshole staggers, and Xigbar's fist catches him square in the jaw.
"You okay?" he asks the kid -- some skinny little blond thing with enough cheekbones for two or three normal guys -- as he gets the asshole in a headlock.
"Yeah," the kid says, nodding, looking like he's trying real hard to shake off the certainty that he was about to get his ass kicked. Xigbar leaves him there and drags the asshole off, out through the fire door into the alley. Stupid fuck keeps trying to explain himself whenever he gets enough breath, only the explanation sounds more like a bunch of shitty drunken excuses, where the kid from the band is somehow both a faggot and trying to steal the asshole's girlfriend.
Xigbar slams the asshole up against the brick outside, hard enough to knock the breath out of him and make him shut the fuck up for a minute. "I don't give a fuck why you were starting a fight in my club," he says calmly. His eye might be doing the mako thing; it's not reliable anymore, but the guy looks pretty panicked. "But if you come back in tonight, or if you ever start shit here again, I'm gonna break some bones. Okay?"
"Fuck you," the asshole says, so Xigbar lets go of him and then hits him again. The guy's head snaps back, and he slides down the wall.
"Just so we got that settled," Xigbar says, and goes back inside.
He makes his way up to the bar and motions for a bottle of water, and he's just gotten it when someone puts a hand on his shoulder -- his right shoulder, his bad side. He tenses, but whoever it is just leans closer, chin coming to rest on his left shoulder where he can see out of the corner of his eye. It's the kid from Nobody's Fool.
"Hey," he says, "thanks for helping me out back there."
Xigbar shrugs, not really trying to dislodge the kid's arm and not surprised when he holds on. "Just doing my job."
"Still," the kid says, his other hand sliding under Xigbar's arm and around his chest. "It kept me from getting my ass kicked, right? So thanks." His hands are moving slowly, stroking little patterns on Xigbar's chest. "Can I buy you a drink, or something?"
"Nah, not right now," Xigbar says, turning to face the kid with a little grin. "Can't drink on the job, and all that."
"Oh," the kid says, looking kind of embarrassed. "So I guess you, ah, couldn't take a little time out for me to, ah, actually, you know what, just, um, forget I said anything, sorry." He takes off into the crowd before Xigbar's had a chance to really work out that that was probably supposed to be a come-on, before the kid lost his nerve.
Well. Getting hit on by people who want to get to the band is par for the course, but getting hit on by someone in the band? That's kind of new.
There isn't any more trouble that night -- the asshole's girlfriend comes to ask what happened to him, but she doesn't start anything, just goes looking for him when Xigbar says he left the fuckhead in the alley. The Empty Hearts do a decent show, even if it's kind of boring after Nobody's Fool, who actually sound different than all the other grind-punk bands that play the Rusty Nail. Xigbar kind of hopes they hold it together long enough to get booked a second time.
Xigbar doesn't see the kid from Nobody's Fool again until the end of the night, when the bands are loading out. He's checking through the backstage area and stumbles on the kid in one of the dressing rooms, looking around like he's forgotten which way he goes to get out, despite how fucking tiny the dressing rooms are. "You lose something?" Xigbar asks.
The kid jumps. "No!" he says. "I mean." He looks over his shoulder at Xigbar, and sort of cringes and smiles at the same time. "Probably not. I kind of lose things all the time, so, um, I figured I should check and make sure I hadn't left my keys in here or something. Am I, ah, in the way?" He glances past Xigbar at the door as if he's trying to figure out how to make a break for it.
"No, it's cool," Xigbar says. He leans against the doorjamb, figures he's got nothing really to lose. "I didn't catch your name, before."
"Oh. Ah. Demyx," the kid says, almost reaching out like he's going to shake hands and then pulling back before he's really followed through. "I'm -- I'm sorry about that, you know, I was just -- you know, all keyed up from the show, and everything, and I shouldn't have...."
Xigbar shakes his head. "Don't worry about it. You were trying to offer me something nice. Sorry I couldn't take you up on it." He holds out his hand to shake. "Xigbar."
Demyx gives him a weak little smile, and takes his hand. "Yeah, I, ah, should've realized you wouldn't be free, right?"
What the hell. You only live once. "I'm free now," Xigbar says. He doesn't let go of Demyx's hand.
"The -- the bar's closed now, isn't it?" Demyx asks, eyes wide. He doesn't try to pull free.
Xigbar smiles, just a little. "What was the other thing you were going to suggest, after the drink?"
Demyx stares, wide-eyed, and licks his lips nervously. "You're not going to kick my ass?"
"Come on," Xigbar says. "I get paid to keep people from kicking your ass." He tugs just a little, and Demyx stumbles closer, almost right into him.
"Oh, man," Demyx says. He leans in, watching Xigbar's face like he's still halfway to panic. "This is really happening, huh?"
"Yeah," Xigbar says. He still waits, lets Demyx make the move himself, but as soon as the kid's mouth touches his he slides his other arm around Demyx's waist to tug him closer.
Demyx makes a little hungry noise when Xigbar's tongue slips into his mouth, and then he's got both hands clenched in Xigbar's shirt, holding on tight as he kisses back. He puts his whole body into it, like he's trying to touch as much of Xigbar as he can, and it's been a damn long time since Xigbar hooked up with anyone who felt this good.
He kicks the door shut behind him and backs up against it, pulling Demyx with him. Demyx moans, squirming, the friction so good it's fucking criminal, and then he's nuzzling the line of Xigbar's jaw, his throat, licking and kissing and biting.
"I want," Demyx starts, "I want to, can I," and his hands are fumbling at the buttons of Xigbar's fatigues, "is this okay?"
Xigbar laughs. "Hell, yes, it's okay," he says. "Fuck." Demyx gets his buttons undone at last, and then there are warm fingers wrapped around his cock, and Xigbar growls, low in his throat. "Yeah, goddamn." He leans back, rocking his hips into Demyx's touch, feeling the kid's breath hot against his neck.
He'd be okay with just this -- not satisfied, maybe, but okay -- but then Demyx squirms in his arms and slides down onto the floor, one hand wrapped around the base of his cock, heart beating so hard Xigbar can hear it if he concentrates. "Like this, yeah?"
"Just like that," Xigbar agrees, and Demyx laps at the head of his cock with a pretty little porn star moan. Suddenly the kid's all confidence, like he's more sure of his skills at sucking cock than at making conversation. Xigbar might feel bad for him, later -- right now it's too fucking good, Demyx's sweet wet mouth around the head of his cock, soft lips and yielding tongue.
Xigbar looks down. Demyx's cheeks are hollowed around his cock, high cheekbones even more pronounced when his mouth is stretched wide like this. He moans like he's getting off on it, too, his eyes closed, and after a minute he shifts his grip so he's got both hands on Xigbar's belt, just hanging on while he sucks Xigbar's cock. Feels like he's more in practice giving head than Xigbar is at getting it -- this isn't going to take long.
"Hey," Xigbar manages, his fingers clenching in the thin mesh of Demyx's shirt, "I'm close, I -- fuck, if you want to pull up --" but Demyx just holds on tighter, moaning, and Xigbar figures that means go ahead, so he does, his legs trembling and his breath catching in his throat.
Demyx sits back on his heels, his lips swollen and slick with spit, and smiles up at him. "Pretty good, huh?" His voice is low and hoarse, rough around the edges now, and his cheeks are flushed.
"Yeah," Xigbar says, reaching down to give him a hand up, "you're fucking good, kid, come here." He hauls Demyx up, pushing him against the door and kissing him hard. The kid moans, shivering and rocking against him, mouth open in surrender so Xigbar can taste come on his tongue. His cock's hard, and he clings tight to Xigbar's shoulders, making little desperate noises as Xigbar strokes him.
"Please," he gasps out, pulling free of the kiss just far enough to speak, "please, please, yeah, want you so bad, oh god, yeah, fuck," when Xigbar tugs at the zipper of his jeans. His cock is smooth and hot in Xigbar's hand, already slick at the tip with precome, and he thrusts into Xigbar's grip helplessly, hungrily.
"Hold still, baby," Xigbar says, nudging a thigh between Demyx's and pressing him back against the wall, holding him there. "Let me take care of you." Demyx nods frantically, and Xigbar starts really stroking his cock, fast and hard. The kid's wound tight, close to going off already, tossing his head and panting for it. "You need it bad, don't you?" Xigbar purrs. "You going to give it up? Fuck, you look good, come on --" and then Demyx turns his head and sinks his teeth into the muscle of Xigbar's shoulder, like he's trying to muffle the noise he makes as his whole body tenses and he comes, shuddering, all over Xigbar's hand.
They're quiet for a minute afterward, as Demyx slowly relaxes and remembers to let go. The spot where he bit down aches a little, but it won't last -- Xigbar shrugs that shoulder and can feel the tenderness easing out already. He can hear Demyx's heartbeat slowing gradually, under the ragged cover of breath, and he looks around sort of half-heartedly for something he can use to wipe Demyx's come off his hand.
"Oh, crap," Demyx says, tensing suddenly. "I'm -- I have to go, I'm sorry, I totally forgot -- the guys are waiting in the van, I -- I'm sorry," and he tugs his zipper back up in a hurry. "This was really cool and I had a great time and I'm really sorry I'm such a jerk, I just --"
Xigbar kisses him, figuring otherwise Demyx will probably spend another five minutes apologizing for not having five more minutes to spare. "Go on," he says when he pulls back from the kiss, before Demyx can take a breath to keep fretting. "I had fun, too. Now get going before your friends come looking for you."
Demyx's eyes go wide with panic for a second. "Right," he says, "I, um, -- thanks, you know? I'll see you around, yeah?"
"Sure," Xigbar says, stepping aside and opening the door so Demyx can get past. "Have a good night."
Demyx smiles, the expression entirely too shy and awkward, and leans up to kiss Xigbar's cheek on the way out. "I already have."