Disclaimer: Someday, I will own Demyx. Someday. schemes until then, no. Not mine. Dammit. The song title I used for this fic is “Crawling Towards the Sun” by the Hush Sound, also not mine. I don’t even own the CD.

Warnings: Shonen-Ai, mentions of the Dewey Decimal System.

Notes: They always tell you “write what you know” and for the longest time I’ve wanted to write a scene about something I know really well, which is, sadly enough, my job. I work at my local library as a page (no, I’m not sure if they were trying to be funny or something either) and there’s enough that goes on that sometimes I get inspired for stories. As it was, one day I was feeling more than a little lousy and for some reason, my thoughts kept drifting to Kingdom Hearts and I started formulating a fic around one of them working in my position. Riku and Sora didn’t fit, nor did Axel and Roxas, and, suddenly, I remembered Zexion, and a big chunk of the story just started to write itself.

I’m pleased that this turned out to be a longer piece. Not as long as I would have liked but I think it’s an achievement considering how taciturn my writing can get at times. So it’s a start.

Oh, and like quite a lot of other Zemyx fans, this goes to Dualism who rocks out loud and wins the internets and, trust me everyone, will convert us all to the glory that is Zemyx. Hopefully, if she reads this at all, she’ll approve.

---

Zexion had never expected to love his job, simply based on the belief that if such an affection were to come about, it would certainly not come from working part time at the Hollow Bastion Public Library. Still, the job paid and Zexion was good at it, which was the only reason he hadn’t quit. Considering the other job alternatives open to high school seniors, meandering around a library and putting books on shelves seemed to be a more appetizing option.

That said, Zexion still had no reason to actually enjoy his job. The lack of enjoyment could be almost entirely attributed to the people (or rather the assorted collection of sociopaths) Zexion worked with. Xemnas had been okay as coworkers go. Sure, he’d been vaguely creepy in a way that made Zexion not want to be in the same room with the guy for too long, but Xemnas had been, for the most part, okay. At least that had been the case until Xemnas got promoted; now he was too busy power tripping and sending Zexion this way and that. Of course, Saïx, Xemnas’ best friend at the library, had never not been creepy, which made the situation that tiny bit worse.

Not to say that all his coworkers were scary. For instance, Larxene was just plain evil. Furthermore, Zexion wasn’t entirely sure what Larxene was paid for, as he’d never actually seen her work in the six months he’d been employed there.

Zexion’s mental tirade was cut short when a library patron tapped him on the shoulder. “Excuse me,” he said, distractedly running his hands through a hairstyle that Zexion figured must be what the bastard child of a faux hawk and a mullet would have looked like. “Can you show me where the music theory books are?”

No, I can’t, Zexion thought irritably. I’m working in the fiction section. What business would books on music theory be doing here? Go ask someone who’s working in nonfiction instead. Instead of voicing his displeasure, Zexion nodded. “Follow me,” he said.

With quick strides, not bothering to see if the guy was actually following him or not, Zexion crossed to the other side of the library into the nonfiction section. Without checking the markers that he’d long since memorized, Zexion found the books labeled in the lower 700’s according to the Dewey Decimal System. “What you want,” Zexion explained, “are the 780s. Those are music.” The stranger looked at him blankly. His face carefully calm to hide his irritation, Zexion pointed to the numbers taped onto the spines of all the books. “Those numbers.”

“Oh!” the stranger exclaimed. “I get it!” he added, his tone betraying that, no…he didn’t quite get it at all.

Zexion walked back to fiction, shrugging. He’d gotten the patron to the books on music; it wasn’t his problem anymore. All he had to do was finish this cart of books he’d brought and the fiction pre-shelf in the back room would be empty, freeing Zexion up to move to another section of the library. At least that was the theory. Instead, Zexion finished his cart and then moved to a tucked away corner between fiction and mysteries. Reaching behind the books on the bottom shelf, Zexion plucked out the book he’d hidden there last time he’d worked in the fiction section. Hidden in his corner, ears at attention in case he’d need to jump up and look busy, Zexion settled in for a good half hour of paid reading time.

Or so he thought.

The sound of heavy footsteps reached Zexion’s ears and he quickly stashed the book back in its hiding place before springing to his feet and pretending he was checking that the books were in order.

“Excuse me,” the patron said again. To Zexion’s irritation, it was the same guy who’d asked him about the music books not fifteen minutes before.

“Yes?” Zexion inquired, the very image of politeness.

“How long can I take these books out?”

Why the hell are you asking me? The librarian was six feet away from where you were standing. What reason could there be to track me down? Inner Zexion ranted. Of course, playing the part of a polite library worker who didn’t want to put his employment status in jeopardy by going postal and killing a patron, he replied, “Three weeks. You can renew them as many times as you need, unless someone else reserves them.”

The patron nodded, taking the information in, and then smiling. “Thanks!” he chirped. Then he handed Zexion a book from the enormous stack in his arms. “Is it okay if I give this back to you? I don’t wanna put it in the wrong place by mistake.”

“There’s a paper in this book. Is it yours…?” Zexion motioned to take it out but the guy was already on his way. Sighing, Zexion took the paper out, prepared to crumple it and throw it away when he noticed what was scrawled on it.

Thanks for helping me find the book! –Demyx

On the other side of the paper was a phone number.

On principle, Zexion refused to blush, but if he didn’t have such strong principles, his face would surely be tinged a deep crimson. He’d just gotten a phone number. In a book.

Not that the event in itself was all that unusual; the library was right next to Hollow Bastion High, so, after school, all the students usually walked over to generally disrupt everyone’s work, make a mess, and hit other students who’d come over. All the other workers had gotten phone numbers on more than one occasion, but Zexion normally avoided people and generally didn’t make an effort to attract anyone’s attention and just didn’t want anyone’s number. He was quite content to be left by himself, thank you very much.

Still…it had been kind of cute. Zexion shrugged and folded the slip before tucking it into the pocket of his black hoodie. He’d figure out what to do with the phone number later.

For now, he had an empty corner and a book to get back to.

---

Zexion was sitting at his desk, finishing his homework, when Riku came in. “Oi,” he said, holding up a folded sheet of paper between his index and middle fingers. “What’s this, Zex?” His little brother raised his eyebrows tauntingly. “’Cause I could swear it looks an awful lot like someone gave you a phone number at work.”

“So?” Zexion asked, schooling his voice carefully blank. So what if still hadn’t decided whether or not he was actually going to call the guy, how the hell was Zexion going to get that slip back?

“How cute,” Riku grinned wickedly.

Zexion leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling in exasperation. “What do you want from me, Riku?”

Riku just grinned again and Zexion repressed the urge to throttle the little punk until his head fell off while waiting for the answer. “I have a date with Sora Leonhart this Friday.”

“Sora I’m-too-cute-for-my-own-good-I-hope-he-learns-self-defense-so-no-one-tries-to-molest-him Leonhart? That Sora?”

“That’s the one!” Riku agreed. “Sora Oh-By-The-Way-My-Best-Friend-Just-Happens-To-Be-Demyx-Kinneas Leonhart. That Sora.” He waved the sheet of paper back and forth. “So you’ll lend me your car on Friday?”

“No way in hell,” Zexion replied succinctly. Riku was no one’s definition of a safe driver. “Anyway, I have work on Friday.”

“So call off,” Riku insisted. “What kind of loser works on Fridays anyway?”

“This one,” was the irritable reply. Zexion turned back to his precalc homework, deciding the conversation finished. “Go away, Riku.”

Riku crossed the room, standing over his seated brother and holding the slip in front of Zexion’s face, waving it back and forth. “Are you sure about that, Zex?” Riku curled his hand into a fist, securing Demyx’s phone number in its core.

Well…Zexion mused. Shit. He stared impassively at Riku’s fist above him, wonder how much trouble he’d get into if he ripped it off and pried the dead fingers open for the number.

A lot, most likely. And it would be messy. Zexion hated messes.

However, Zexion certainly couldn’t give up his car either or he’d be spending the money he earned on repairs to his car for the rest of the school year.

“Are you familiar with the phrase ‘catch-22?’” Riku inquired, grinning.

“Fuck you,” Zexion muttered.

“No thanks. If all goes well, I’ll be doing that with Sora.” Riku walked away, leaving the room with a jaunty wave.

Zexion cursed inwardly.

---

“I’m guessing you didn’t like my bookmark,” a quietly accusing voice said from behind Zexion.

“I’m trying to work,” Zexion replied hollowly, putting the last of the videos he held in their proper places on the shelf. He ran his fingers through the bangs tucked behind his ear, pulling them loose to fall over his right eye. With that small barrier between them it was a little easier to face the crestfallen Demyx.

“I gave you my number!” he insisted. The subtle pout on Demyx’s face would be heart wrenching to a lesser man. “I knocked over a whole shelf of books trying to get that book!”

Ahh, Zexion thought. So that’s who was dumb enough to leave nonfiction a mess when Saïx was working there. I should have guessed. All the same, he did genuinely feel bad for Demyx, who had clearly put a good deal of what appeared to be his somewhat limited common sense at work for this. Not that leaving a note was an extremely clever move, but still.

“Blame my brother,” Zexion added, figuring Demyx was due some form of an explanation, if only to make him stop looking like someone had kicked his puppy.

“How?”

Zexion wondered how much of the story he could give out without completely shredding his masculinity. “He threw out the paper by mistake.” Okay, so maybe the only mistake made was Zexion’s failure to kill his brother while they were little, but it seemed credible.

“Uh…huh…” Demyx replied, clearly not believing Zexion. “You know, you could just say you’re not interested or straight or whatever. It wouldn’t be a big deal.”

“That’s not…” Zexion started, his own voice cutting off in frustration. What was he supposed to say? My psychotic brother found the paper and tried to blackmail me into letting him use my car so he could score in the backseat with your best friend? Hm, no, that didn’t really have a nice ring to it.

Demyx rolled his eyes, “Yeah, whatever.” Behind the irritation, though, Zexion could swear the guy had an air of disappointment.

Zexion was going to try again when Larxene walked over, a hand on her hip. “Hey, Zexion,” she snapped. “Try and get laid on your own time.” She gave Demyx the once-over and smirked. “I see how it goes.” Then she turned her attention back to Zexion, “Get back to work.”

Zexion raised a challenging eyebrow, “I guess someone does have to work twice as hard to make up for you.” Ignoring Larxene’s furious huff, Zexion turned back to Demyx, only to see him stalking away.

Exhaling in a way that was most definitely not a sigh, Zexion got back to work.

---

“You know,” Riku said irritably, leaning in Zexion’s doorway. “Sora couldn’t figure out why his best friend was all moody and depressed. He kept talking about it all night.”

“I’m sorry your throwing away his phone number resulted in a chain of events culminating in you not getting any,” Zexion replied, far from penitent, turning a page in his book. Riku growled in frustration and Zexion shrugged, indifferent to his brother’s plight.

“If you’d just loaned me the car…”

“Only I didn’t and won’t.”

“You know, you could’ve gotten his number from the school directory,” Riku pointed out. “He goes to our school.” He rolled his eyes, leaving the room. “For someone so smart, you’re a real moron sometimes.”

As the door slammed behind Riku, Zexion sat bolt upright. The school directory? It had been so obvious! What was Demyx’s last name?

Without Riku’s notice, Zexion managed to get the directory from the kitchen and sneak back to his room. In the safety of his room, Zexion flipped open his cell phone and turned to the Ks, quickly locating “Kinneas, Demyx” next to “Kinneas, Irvine.” With fingers that were a little more hesitant than he liked admitting, Zexion punched in the numbers, his thumb wavering over the “send” button.

Finally, mentally scolding himself for being so weird about the whole thing, Zexion forced himself to press the button and put the phone to his ear, drumming his fingers on the headboard of his bed.

Ring…ring…ring…ring…ring…ri—

“Hello?” a melodic voice asked. It wasn’t Demyx’s, but it sounded very similar.

“Can I speak to Demyx?”

“Who’s calling?”

“Zexion.”

“OI! DEMYX!” The speaker bellowed, apparently having barely removed the phone from the general vicinity of his mouth. Zexion heard Demyx’s voice, too far away to interpret, and then the other (by now he assumed Irvine) saying, “Some guy named Zexion’s calling for you.”

A pause.

“Sorry,” Irvine said into the phone. “He’s not here right now.”

“But you were just…”

Click.

“…talking to him…” Zexion finished to the silent phone. Cursing, though he wasn’t quite sure why, Zexion leaned his head back and closed his eyes, fingers rubbing at the spot over his left eye where he felt a headache blossoming.

“Well,” Zexion muttered to himself. “That went brilliantly.”

---

High school was a big, bad place full of people constantly moving or standing still or otherwise doing things to obstruct other people who were in the middle of something important, such as tracking down Demyx Kinneas. Lunch period be damned, Zexion was going to find Demyx and figure out what his damage was. He’d called the guy hadn’t he? So why had Demyx gotten all pissed over it? Zexion ran a hand through his hair, brushing it out of his face and then tossing his head so that his bangs resettled over his eye.

Zexion figured the music rooms would be the best place to start, based on his extremely limited knowledge of Demyx Kinneas. In fact, his understanding of Demyx didn’t even deserve to be called limited. He knew Demyx had a brother and was Sora’s best friend and, maybe, had some kind of interest in music, judging by the huge stack of music books (and subsequent mess he’d left for Saïx ) he’d had in his arms.

Around the third music room, Zexion heard the traces of a sweet, bluesy song. The notes were all smooth and harmonious, lending the rhythmic music a silky feel. Briefly distracted, Zexion followed the sound to the tiny glass window in the music room door. To Zexion’s profound surprise, and relief, he realized it was Demyx who was creating the strange, amazing music with an intricately decorated guitar.

For a while, Zexion stood by the door, watching. He debated opening the door a few times but doubted that barging in on the musician would have a desired (or painless) effect. So he waited.

And waited.

It seemed like Demyx could go on forever like this and the time left in Zexion’s lunch period was getting perilously short. Zexion didn’t think he could see a choice but to barge in and he slowly pulled the door open, wincing when it squeaked. Startled, Demyx’s head shot up at the sound. Surprise turned to another, more difficult, expression to read as Demyx realized who the interloper was.

“I called,” Zexion began, flatly.

“Yeah, great,” Demyx replied offhandedly, stooping to his knees to gently place the guitar in its case. “Irvine told me.”

“You were there.”

“I was busy.”

Zexion’s mouth sealed closed and he studied Demyx, his head cocked at an angle that caused silver hair to fall completely over his right eye. Demyx’s expression wavered between one of distress and irritation as his mouth opened and closed a little, as if he could get out the words he wanted to. Finally his mouth snapped shut and he gave Zexion a hard look.

“Look, it really wasn’t my fault about the number…” Zexion tried to explain.

“Yeah, you told me. It’s all shiny. I get it,” he replied indifferently.

“I’m not lying. Riku threw it away!”

That stopped Demyx. “Riku is your brother?” he asked slowly.

“Yeah, so?”

Demyx opened his mouth but was cut off by the bell. “Dammit,” he swore and ran out of the room.

“Wait…”

Zexion growled, stuck his hands in his pockets, and left, heading in the opposite direction from Demyx.

---

Riku was not having a good day, Zexion was pleased to observe.

That said, it was awfully pathetic the way Riku was lying on the couch, mindlessly staring at the TV, apparently deep in the throes of depression.

All things considered, Zexion did not happen to consider this a particularly bad thing.

“Sora won’t speak to me,” he croaked, eyes not leaving the flickering splotches of color that was supposed to make up an episode of Bokura no Love Style, only it refused to process in Riku’s forlorn mind.

“Tragic,” Zexion replied, popping open a can of Ether. “Now, tell me why I care.”

“Because it involves Demyx!” Riku sat up, having taken enough offense at the remark to spur himself to action. “Apparently you made Demyx freak out, which made Sora freak out and blame me. Or…something.”

“And this wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with a certain slip of paper, would it?” Zexion inquired blandly, checking his cell phone for any text messages. As usual, there were none, but it was okay to pretend. “You expect me to feel bad for you?”

Riku rolled his eyes, energized by the chance to antagonize his brother. “Even if I hadn’t tossed the number, would you ever have called him?” he demanded.

Zexion shrugged. Maybe he would have…eventually. It wasn’t like he was the type to call someone right away just because they’d given him a number. That was just tacky. No, Zexion had planned to wait a day, maybe two and then…

“You were just going to keep putting off calling him until you figured he’d forget, right?” Riku managed to take the reality of what Zexion had planned right out of his head. “You weren’t ever going to call him, Zex, and you know it. You just don’t do that, do you?” He rolled his eyes, “I can’t believe we share DNA. You’re such a fucking loser.” He rolled his eyes, “TV’s all yours. I’m going to call Sora. Unlike some people in this room, I actually have the balls to try and fix things.”

Zexion watched his brother stomp out of the room, furiously dialing the number, and tried not to sigh. Instead, he picked up the remote, and channel surfed until he ended up somewhere in the triple-digit cable channels, partway through some kind of Coliseum competition. He wasn’t much paying attention. Zexion fell into a stupor, mindlessly staring at the screen, not quite processing what it was that he was watching for some time.

When he finally snapped out of it, Zexion realized that it was nearly twilight and he had better things to do than take up his brother’s space on the couch. So Zexion dragged himself up and went to the kitchen to get another can of Ether to wake himself up. When Zexion came in, Riku was there, leaning against the counter, propped up on one elbow while his other hand held the phone to his ear. He was laughing, softly, occasionally tossing an “Oh yeah?” or a “you sure about that?” into the conversation. Zexion raised an eyebrow in question and Riku replied in kind with a calm smirk and a mouthed Sora. Zexion nodded and retrieved his Ether, indulging in the much-needed caffeine.

Nursing the Ether, Zexion sat down at the table, half-listening to Riku. He couldn’t help but wonder, briefly, how a conversation with Demyx might have gone. Zexion wasn’t much of a talker, but Demyx had the air of someone who could cover for two people. Or maybe Demyx would just…get Zexion to talk. Somehow, Zexion didn’t find that surprising; Demyx, in their short acquaintance, had already made Zexion do some things out of his usual character. Snooping through the whole school only to end up standing by the music room for nearly twenty minutes, for instance. If anyone had the personality to draw Zexion into a conversation, he had a feeling it just might be Demyx.

Not, Zexion reminded himself, that things were likely to go that way. As sweet a scenario as he had imagined, Zexion remembered that there was this nasty thing called reality that spend a good deal of its time invading people’s fantasies. Reality was that Demyx would likely keep ignoring Zexion until he just forgot entirely and found something better to do and Zexion would just keep working and not dealing with people until graduation, whereupon they would separate and nothing would ever have come of it.

“You know,” Riku put the phone back into the cradle and popped the tab on another Ether, “you are so full of bullshit and you don’t say a word?” He laughed, taking a sip. “I bet you’re sitting there thinking of the what if this and what if that and maybe if you called Demyx but OH NO reality is too cruel to let you hope so you’re just gonna forget all about it, right? Bullshit, man. Nothing’s gonna happen if you don’t do jack shit to change things.” He threw up his hands in disgust and took the soda and headed to his room.

“Try growing a pair first,” Riku said over his shoulder. “Then we’ll see what happens.”

Zexion glared after his brother and then returned to sullenly nursing his drink. The damned annoying thing about Riku, Zexion knew, was that he wasn’t stupid. Riku knew people and he especially knew Zexion, his brother.

---

“Cheer up, emo kid,” Marluxia teased Zexion.

Zexion, somehow, dredged up the energy to fire a quip right back, “Maybe you should give me some of that happy rainbow magic you’re drugged up on, then.” Then he pushed past with his cart of books, not bothering to wait for Marluxia to fire back.

Thankfully, Zexion was in fiction again, which meant he could get by with a minimal effort since he could shelve fiction faster than anyone else, even on his worst day. Still, an observer would note that Zexion worked like he was walking through syrup. By the time his cart was cleared and Zexion settled into his corner to read, he barely had the motivation to reach for his hidden book. When he did lean forward, Zexion was shocked when he realized the space behind the books was empty. Someone had taken his book.

This was not a good day.

Rather than get up and find another book or go back to work, Zexion leaned his head against the wall, eyes squeezed closed as he tried to will his exhaustion away.

“You know,” a familiar, musical voice cut in, “if you’re trying to be stealthy or something, it’s totally not working.”

Zexion cracked an eye open to see Demyx. Just the sight of him gave Zexion’s apathy a kick away and he leaned forward to better make eye contact with him. “I figured if it bothered my boss that much, if she even noticed, Ms. Quistis would say something to me. I get my work done.”

Demyx shrugged, “I’m not your boss. It’s not my issue.” His eyes darted from side to side before he settled down next to Zexion. “So Riku threw away the paper, did he?” Zexion nodded slowly. “You know, suddenly, that excuse is a lot more believable.” He grinned, “Your brother can be a right little psycho sometimes. I don’t know why Sora gave him a chance.”

Zexion nodded, unconsciously brushing his bangs out of his face. “Hope Sora keeps giving him chances. Saves me a lot of trouble.”

Demyx chuckled a little. Zexion found himself smiling.

Then Demyx held out his hand. “Give me your cell phone,” he demanded.

“What for?” Zexion asked, even as he passed the little silver phone to Demyx.

“So that,” Demyx explained, flipping open the phone and clicking into Zexion’s address book, “this time, when I give you my number,” he snapped the phone closed and grinned, “you can’t fuck it up and blame it on Riku.” Demyx grinned and stood up, “Music books are the 780s right?”

Zexion nodded.

On principle, Zexion didn’t grin like a fool but, if he didn’t have such strong principles, his face would be split with the biggest grin physically possible.

---

That night found Zexion in the middle of his bed, cell phone flipped open. Without any hesitation, Zexion opened his address book and highlighted Demyx’s entry and pressed send before lifting the phone to his hear.

Ring…ri—

“Hello?” Demyx’s voice came through.

“Hey,” Zexion said softly. “I called.”

“Yes you did.”

Zexion could tell that Demyx was smiling.

---

“Hey, Zex,” Riku drawled from the door, holding out an envelope. “The bill for your cell phone just came. Mom is pissed.”

Zexion looked over at Riku and then twisted around to grin wryly at Demyx, who was sitting behind him. Demyx propped his chin on Zexion’s shoulder, smiling. “Oops.”

---

END NOTES: Ooh, that was fun and a welcome change from the short little angst fics I’ve been writing. Thanks everyone for reading. And, yes, music books are really in the 780-790s section of your local library’s nonfiction section. I’m sure you all care. Video game strategy guides, in the teen section of the library where I work, are also in the 790s…I think. Some of Zexion’s coworkers’ habits are more than a little similar to the…eccentric lot I work with. (If they read this—and I really, really they never do—they know who they are.)

Oh, and there are two references to Ouran High School Host Club in here. Good luck finding them )