Title: When It’s Raining

Author: Suzaka

Disclaimer: Property of Square Enix and Disney but no worries, someday Demyx will be mine

Characters/Pairings: Zexion, Demyx, ergo Zemyx

Summary: Zexion makes the mistake of interrupting Demyx as he plays with the rain Zemyx

Warnings: None

Notes: Written in class at a friend’s request and typed and edited to “Dreams” by the Corrs

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Demyx stands in the rain, soaked to the skin, but oblivious to the wet and the cold. His meticulously styled hair has fallen, the gel washed out, leaving the damp locks plastered to his head and neck, but he fails to notice. Behind the soggy bangs molded to his cheekbones, the Melodious Nocturne’s eyes are closed and his mouth smiling as gloved hands move and direct the raindrops, conducting them this way and that until spirals of water arc through the sky in musical patterns and crescendos only Demyx can hear.

“I do not find it wise,” Zexion comments from the doorway, “to manipulate nature in such an unstable environment.” He waves his hand in an arc for emphasis, the motion sweeping over The World That Never Was.

Demyx ignores the Cloaked Schemer, keeping his eyes closed. However, there is a certain agitated stiffness to his conduction now.

The lack of attention displeases Zexion, who is used to direct obedience. “Number IX!” Zexion’s voice raises, louder than the sudden clap of thunder that follows.

Although his eyes remain closed and his expression remains serene, Demyx’s motions convey his true opinion of Zexion’s interruption; with a sharp turn of his hands, the prettily patterned water combines into a single torrent that splashes over Zexion, soaking him before he can react.

Then, as if he hadn’t just committed a huge act of insubordination, Demyx opens his eyes and turns his head slightly, looking at Zexion sideways. “Whadaya want Zexy?” he asks lightly.

Zexion raises an eyebrow, “I said that it seems unwise to manipulate nature in the World That Never Was.”

“I’m just playing with the water,” Demyx points out, “not stopping it from falling.” Then he smiles, brushing soaked hair out of his eyes. “Zexy, you’re soaked.”

“So it would appear,” Zexion replies. “Have you any idea how I might have arrived at my current state?”

Demyx shrugs, although there is a noticeable lift to the corner of his mouth, “No idea, Zexy. Have you been standing in the rain?”

“No. I cannot say I have.”

Demyx turns around fully and takes a few steps forward, leaning in until his face is bare centimeters from Zexion’s. “Did you bother someone who was playing in the rain?”

“No,” Zexion replies coolly, tilting his head up to better make eye contact.

“Because I could have sworn,” Demyx continues, “that your voice was the one distracting me just a minute ago.” His mouth is so close that Zexion and Demyx share the same breath and droplets of water jump from Demyx’s limp hair onto Zexion’s cheekbones, painting an absurd facsimile of tears. “Was it you?”

“I might have raised my voice,” Zexion replies indifferently. “Your ears are so…sensitive.”

“It wasn’t fair,” Demyx breathes, suddenly childish. “I was playing.” His lips, so close to Zexion’s, form a pout.

“I’m sure you’ll find something else to pass your time.” Zexion’s voice is a mockery of consolation.

“Will you play a game with me?” Demyx’s eyebrow raises in challenge.

“Perhaps we can think of…something.”