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Demyx wakes up hurting, short of breath, crushed tight to someone else's body in the dark -- arms locked around him, hard and muscular, and that means it's either Zack or --
Xigbar, he remembers, he went home with Xigbar tonight. And now he's wide awake in the dark and he can barely breathe because Xigbar's holding onto him so tight, and there's noise from outside like -- like a helicopter, maybe?
Demyx squirms, tries to push free, even just enough to breathe -- "Hey," he says, "hey, come on. Xigbar. Wake up."
And oh, thank god, Xigbar does, starting awake with a sharp sucked-in breath. "Fuck," he says, "where --" and then he stops.
Where? "Home," Demyx says, as the thump-thump sound of the helicopter starts to fade. "You brought me back to your place after the club tonight, remember?"
Xigbar takes a few deep breaths. "Home," he repeats. "...Midgar." That, Demyx thinks, is a little creepy. But then Xigbar follows it up with, "Crap. Demyx. You okay?" And he lets go, shifts like he's trying to pull away.
"Yeah," Demyx says in a hurry, moving with Xigbar, holding on. "I'm fine. Are, um," and he feels silly even asking, but. "Are you okay?"
"Don't worry about me," Xigbar says, shaking his head. He's still tense, though. And if it's bad enough that Demyx can tell, it's something pretty bad.
"Seriously," Demyx says. "If there's anything I can do, ah...." That sounds stupid, doesn't it? Not much he can really do about Xigbar having nightmares. "I mean. Um. You can totally ignore that. If you want." It's not like they've even been doing this for all that long. This is only like the fourth time he's followed Xigbar home.
Xigbar takes a deep breath, and lets it out slowly, like he's trying to relax. "Thanks," he says gruffly. "I'm not sure there's anything anybody can do. But it's nice of you to offer."
Even Zack has nights where he comes home from being on a mission and seems a little...down. And that's just small-time stuff. Xigbar was in Wutai. "Is it -- is it because of the war?" Demyx asks. "Tell me to shut up if it's none of my business."
"Nah, it's okay," Xigbar says. Demyx can feel him shrug. "It's usually no big thing anymore. Just every once in a while when the company sends a chopper over in the middle of the night, you know? That was never a good way to get woken up, over there."
"Man," Demyx says. "Yeah, I bet." All he knows about the war comes from the movies ShinRa paid for, toward the end, and the guys who came back to Gongaga hurt and angry. And his dad, who didn't come back at all. His fingers find Xigbar's scars in the dark, the one up near his shoulder, the one over his heart, the one on his cheek. "That was, um, how this happened, wasn't it."
For a minute he thinks he's pushed it too far -- Xigbar's totally quiet, totally still. "Yeah," Xigbar says at last. "There was an ambush. The guy in front of me stepped on a mine. He got both legs blown off. Bled out before the battle was over. I got a faceful of shrapnel and an honorable discharge. Company don't need snipers with missing eyes."
Demyx doesn't say anything for a minute, not even sure how to answer that, and Xigbar shrugs. "It ain't that bad," he says. "I get around just fine. I got a life. I got a job. Hell. I got a teenage rock star coming home with me."
He totally ought to just let this go, but Demyx still hears himself saying, "Yeah, but -- that's not all you got." He props himself up on one elbow and traces Xigbar's face with his fingertips, jawline, cheekbone, up to where the patch -- where the patch isn't, he discovers, and falters when he's suddenly touching scar tissue. "I'm sorry," he says, pulling back.
"Don't," Xigbar says. His eye flickers with light for a second, like a match being struck, and he grabs Demyx's wrist. "I mean. You don't have to stop." He puts Demyx's hand back, and lets go, almost hesitantly.
Demyx takes a couple of slow, deep breaths. "Okay," he says, and starts to explore a little further, slowly, carefully. The scar spreads out further than the socket itself, rough skin with this weird texture to it, and then there's the edge of bone and just...more scar. A hollow place. It's a good thing it's dark, Demyx thinks. He'd never have this kind of courage with the lights on. "Does it hurt?" he asks. His voice comes out sort of tight, sort of nervous.
"Not anymore," Xigbar says. He sounds hoarse, too. "It's just kind of weird. Not someplace I'm used to being touched. But it's good."
"Good?" Demyx asks. He strokes the scar tissue slowly. It feels odd under his fingers. The fact that Xigbar would let him do this at all makes him kind of shaky.
"Yeah," Xigbar says, barely more than a whisper. "Good." Mako lights up his eye again, just a little bit, a glowing coal instead of an actual flame.
"Don't kill me," Demyx says softly, shifting his weight so that he's lying more across Xigbar's chest, so that he can lower his head and brush his lips against the crest of bone right above Xigbar's missing eye. Xigbar takes a really sharp breath, but he doesn't say stop, and one of his hands comes to rest on the small of Demyx's back. That's like encouragement, Demyx thinks, so he kisses that spot again, and then, his heart pounding so hard that Xigbar has to be able to hear it, he lets his tongue slip out enough to lick at the hard curve of that bone.
Xigbar makes this low sound in his throat that might be pain, except his cock twitches against Demyx's thigh.
"Okay?" Demyx asks anyway, because it never hurts to make sure.
"Again," Xigbar whispers.
"Oh god," Demyx says. He does it again, tongue tracing the edges of Xigbar's eyesocket, and Xigbar moves under him, a slow, full-body shudder. Demyx feels his cock start to get hard, feels like he's maybe just a little dizzy, like he's lost track of which way is up -- yeah, this is definitely weird, but it's not a bad weird, not when he can get that kind of noise out of Xigbar, when he can make Xigbar breathless and hard for him. The way Xigbar reacts makes him bolder, makes him lick a slow swipe through the hollow of the socket.
Xigbar growls, holding Demyx by the hips and rocking up, grinding his cock against Demyx's thigh. "Fuck," he says, his voice all rough around the edges.
"Yeah?" Demyx says. "You want to?" He licks again, lingering in the hollow this time, and Xigbar's answer turns into a low gorgeous moan. They fucked a few hours ago, when they first got back here, and Demyx is a little sore already, but he'll live, right? It's totally worth it.
Especially when Xigbar writhes under him, bites at his throat, growls, "Want you, god, so fucking bad."
"Yeah," Demyx moans, arching his back, "yeah, please -- please --" and Xigbar gets a good grip on him and pulls him up, so he's stretched out on top of Xigbar now, skin on skin all the way down and their cocks sliding against each other, and Demyx can't help thrusting. "So good," he breathes, "you feel so good."
Xigbar manages to get one hand between them, to curl his fingers around them both and trap Demyx's cock against his own. "Yeah," he says, "there you go, baby, push," and Demyx doesn't need to be told twice, not when it's just what he wants to do anyway -- he holds on to Xigbar's shoulders for leverage and just moves, rocking his hips. Xigbar is strong and solid and hot under him, skin damp with sweat, and both of them are breathing hard, and the friction is just right, Xigbar's hand and his cock -- and it's easy, this rhythm, like breathing like dancing like his heartbeat like -- the tension gathers at the base of his cock and all he has to do is not stop and it feels like light when he comes, golden just like the glow in Xigbar's eye.
And then he's just holding on, as Xigbar thrusts against him, slippery now with his come. "Please," Demyx says, "please, you too," and his mouth finds Xigbar's skin, licking his sweat, nipping, biting his throat until he arches taut under Demyx and comes with a moan.
Afterward it occurs to Demyx just how hot it's gotten in Xigbar's bedroom -- it might still be cold outside but not in here, not after all that. He slides off to one side, an arm over Xigbar's chest, and thinks about how nice it is that he doesn't have to go anywhere now.
Xigbar laughs, one short exhaled sound. "Shit," he says, "and here I was worried about it bothering you."
"What?" Demyx says. "Oh. You mean your eye? Um." He's blushing, but he's pretty sure even a SOLDIER shouldn't be able to see him blush in the dark. "I -- sorry. I didn't mean to go all pervy on you or anything."
"It's cool," Xigbar says. He slides an arm around Demyx's shoulders. "It's real cool."
Demyx hides his smile in the hollow of Xigbar's shoulder out of habit. "Good," he says, and then he means to say something else but the words just won't go in order so instead he just closes his eyes and he's warm and comfortable and --
Xigbar shakes him, gently. "Come on," he says. "Let's go get a shower, yeah? I'm sticky and gross."
"Go and...what, together?" Demyx asks sleepily.
"Yeah," Xigbar says. He sounds a little like he wants to laugh, but it's friendly.
"Okay," Demyx says. "Yeah." He rolls over, and lets Xigbar haul him up out of bed, and right now, he realizes, he's happy, soreness and shaky limbs and all.
