Whee, final chapter/epilogue fusion!! That's right guys, this is it. The last of WSNHY, hopefully you all will read and review everything else I write, right??

I'm surprisingly sad to see this little baby end, but what can you do?

Beta'd!! W00t!! When was the last time I said that?

A massive thank you to my beta(s) blondevil and LawlietxRinoa and to everyone who's ever reviewed, faved or alerted this story. Especially those who've been with me since the beginning and reveiwed regularly. Thank you. It's been good.

"I love myself, I want you to love me. When I'm feeling down I want you above me."

Making Marluxia breakfast is sort of a habit of mine. It started when I realized that he lived pretty close to me and was a pissy bitch in the morning. Which lead to the conclusion that mornings spent lolling around in bed could be spent pissing off Marluxia; a much more valuable waste of time. Except, somehow, pissing him off turned into cooking for him. I think that happened when I realized he only ate out at diners and fast food joints. Even I, unhealthy as I may be, know that's a bad life decision.

"So," I say, as we walk down the hall towards the kitchen, "about you and me. And Demyx."

"About you, me, and Demyx," he agrees as he stops and turns to face me.

I stop walking as well, "Listen, Mar, I-"

"Love you from the depths of my soul?"

"Er, no, that's not quite-"

"Shh." He holds a finger up to my lips. "I won't touch you in an inappropriate manner again unless you're single or we're both very, very drunk."

"But, I-"

"The drunk thing is just in case shit happens, you know?"

"Mar, I-"

"Listen, I don't want to have to listen to you dumping me when we were never even dating, m'kay?"

"Al-alright." Because really, how can I argue with that?

We start walking again.

"Hold on a sec," he holds an arm out against my chest and dashes back the way we came. He runs in, then out, of his room with a white t-shirt, this he sticks over his hand and then opens the door to Dem's and my room.

He knocks loudly on the wall with his white shirted hand until I can hear Demyx's sleeping voice, "What the heck?"

"I surrender!" wails Marluxia, with only his hand in the room.

"What?"

"Zexion. He's yours!"

"O-okay, can I go back to bed now?"

Marluxia pulls his hand out of the room and shuts the door, smirking to himself.

I cross my arms over my chest and raise an eyebrow, "Having fun?"

"Oodles." He chucks the shirt through the open doorway to his room.

"So, what do you want for breakfast?"

"Waffles."

We get to the kitchen to find Leon and Cloud eating toast and conversing quietly. They go silent as we enter the kitchen. After a bland round of "Mornings" silence returns.

"Do you have a waffle iron?" Though I direct the question to Leon, it's Cloud who gets up and pulls it out of a low-lying cabinet for me.

He also gets out a bowl and the necessary ingredients; I won't bore you with the details. Cloud seems to be the helpful type.

"Your bitch is well-trained," he comments quietly to Marluxia.

Marluxia smiles genially, "Isn't he?"

Which is funny because we just had conversation about how I'm not his bitch. He just likes to mess with people's heads.

"This one can't feed itself," I turn my head in time to see Cloud jerk his thumb at the quietly eating Leon.

I stop mixing and turn my back to the counter, "Actually, he's my bitch. He lied earlier, I like to let him have his little delusions, but really, he's whipped."

"I am not!" Marluxia interjects angrily but Cloud just smiles a small, indulgent little smile.

"Yes, you are, dear."

Marluxia looks at me, "Do you honestly believe that, were you and I to engage in vigorous bouts of wild, animalistic sex, you would be on top?"

My face colors and I really wish Cloud and Leon weren't staring at me with anticipation right now. And I really want to lie but my mind is too busy quashing images that make Demyx tying me to the headboard seem totally vanilla. "No."

"There you have it then," Marluxia concludes, satisfied. I want to punch him. I want to f- I need to see Demyx.

Ignoring Marluxia's protests, I leave the waffle preparations to Cloud and hurry up the stairs to the room I share with Demyx.

He's in just a towel when I get there. He looks awkward and flushes when he sees me, but I ignore that in favor of rushing forward to wrap my arms around him and holding him tight to me.

"Um, Zex," he asks breathily in my ear, "What's up?"

"Nothing," I tell him, releasing him so I'm not squishing him quite so much.

And then I'm painfully aware of how very not dressed he is and all that bare skin underneath my hands. Forgive me if my hands start to wander.

His muscles stiffen, "Zexy, if you're going to continue with that, could you at least shut the door?"

Ever indulgent to my love's whims, I shut the door. When I turn back he's sitting nervously on the bed, twiddling his thumbs. I don't believe it.

Last night, he tied me up and molested me quite enjoyably, only untying me so I could screw him sixty ways to Sunday, which I did. The nights before that we fooled around as only two horny teenagers can. This morning, he can't even seem to look at me. I guess there's something to that "light of the night" business.

"Dem, are you-do you... regret last night?"

"No! Not at all, it's just, last night I was angry. This morning I'm... terrified."

Ah. Of course. Well, it's a bit of gamble but, "Marluxia came on to me today," I say casually, like I'm just commenting on the weather.

Demyx's eyes narrow, "Before or after he 'surrendered?'"

"After. He's a vicious, lying harlot." Sorry Marluxia. I'll make this up to you. "He says I'll always belong to him and that you could never satisfy me."

"Hmph! Sure seemed to last night!"

It's a struggle not to smile or laugh. I approach him slowly, but he's off the bed and pacing, muttering things about castration.

He stops pacing. "We should have sex again."

"I agree completely." Yes! Victory is mine. I scoop him up and carry him the foot or so to the bed; it's the thought that counts, right?

He squeaks and laughs, in that stupid way of people who are being silly together in a romantic fashion. You know what I mean. I'm about to remove that pesky towel but he beats me to the hem of my shirt instead, rips that off and then pulls me down on top of him. Really, who am I to argue with that?

Later he turns to me, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You lied about Marluxia coming on to you, didn't you?"

"I, well, er- Yes, yes I did."

"You lied to me so I would have sex with you." It's not a question. And when you phrase it like that it sounds so....

"Well... Yes, but I wouldn't really phrase it like that."

He sits up. Shit, "How would you phrase it then?"

I think I've managed to well and truly piss him off, but I can't really blame him.

"I would say," I begin carefully, "that I was willing to go to extreme measures to make you not be nervous and uncomfortable." There. That sounds much better.

"Don't do that again, ever, or I'll-I'll, I dunno, do something drastic."

"Will do." Well, that was far less painful than I expected.

"I am mad at you." He warned.

"I cannot say I'm surprised by that turn of events."

"And I'll be properly mad at you after I've slept, and showered, again, damn you."

"Alright." It takes a force of effort not to add, 'I'm looking forward to it.'
"I love you, you know that, right?"

He sighs, "Yes, Zexion, I know you love me, as I tell you every time you tell me. Do you know that I love you? No, no you don't, but I do."

"Er, thanks, I did sort of know, though."

"Liar, you just wish you did."

"Whatever you say, dear."

"Hey, Zex?"

"Yeah?"

"Are we dating?"

I take a few seconds to mull it over, "I should think so, unless you, too, are in the habit of having random sex with people."

"I'm not in the habit of having sex at all," he replies easily, if slightly snappily. "Speaking of which, we need to talk about your sense of self-worth."

"Hmm."

"Vodka and cigarettes? Really, Zexion? Really?"

"We were all poor and I didn't care. Besides those fruity Smirnoff drinks are really tasty."

He props himself up on his elbows and turns to look at me, "You are so gay. You should at least charge, like, Bacardi or Disaronno or... Jose Cuervo, or something."

"Your just reciting brand names from advertisements, aren't you?"

"Maybe, but the point remains the same. You should have charged more."

"It wasn't a charging thing. It was just that we got drunk then had sex or had sex then smoked or, occasionally, got drunk, had sex, then smoked. You know?"

"Not really. But whatever. We're dating. I love you. You love me. We're happy, right?"

"That sums it up rather well, yes."

"Good. And Marluxia is not a 'vicous, lying harlot' who lied about surrendering?"

"Correct."

"So we'll be happy and together for forever and ever, then?"

I tighten my arm around him, "Damn straight."

"Good."

"I love myself, I want you to love me. When I'm feeling down I want you above me."

"So I ran into your mom in the kitchen," Roxas starts, carrying in chips and salsa 'cause he's awesome like that.

"Mmm…"

"She's an interesting lady."

Well, that gets my attention. I sit up, abandoning my couch-flopping. "Oh, fuck, what'd she say?"

"Well, she seems to be of the opinion that we, as in you and I, are having sex."

"Really?"

"I naturally denied it-"

"She already knows I'm gay."

"-but she insisted, saying something along the lines of 'no son of mine could possibly be spending so much time with an attractive young male and not be having sexual intercourse with them.'"

I thunk my head into my hands.

"She then said, 'In case subtlety is lost on you like it is on Alex-'Alex, really? '- that means my son is a horny bitch and I know it.'"

I whimper softly into my hands. "And you defended me?" I ask hopefully, already knowing the answer is no.

"I said I was quite aware of that, especially the 'bitch' part."

"You didn't."

"I did."

I sigh, stretch my shoulders back and look up at him; he still hasn't sat down yet. "Please tell me that's it."

"She advised us to be safe. I assured her we were."

"Well, that could've been worse. I think she likes you."

"Really?" he smiles hopefully, "That's good. So, what movie are we watching?"

Well, this is all well and good and all, but there's one quick thing I need to make sure is clear, "So... you know that I kinda love you, right?" I drawl casually as I fiddle with the remotes.

Roxas smirks, shrugs, and sits down on top of me, "I sort of figured it out, yeah. I mean, masochism, c'mon."

"I didn't say masochism, I said 'burning and loving the tyranny' and that thing from that Shakespeare sonnet. They're entirely different."

Roxas laughs, "Whatever, they translate to the same thing in my head, which is, masochism."

I sigh theatrically, "I'll take that as, 'Axel, you studmuffin, I love you, too. And were I not sitting I would be rendered totally weak at the knees by your debonair ways and pretty turn of phrase.' Ooh, lookit, I rhymed!"

Roxas' eyes roll heavenward, "Whatever."

I poke him, "Yeah, you love me."

"I love myself, I want you to love me. When I'm feeling down I want you above me."

"Hey Leon, can I ask you a question?" I ask, breaking the calm of Everclear, his books, and my DS.

He thinks it over, staring at his page for a second, eyes flicking until he, presumably, reaches the end of a paragraph. His eyes meet mine, Go for it.

"What happened to you that year we were apart?"

Is it my imagination, or is he blushing? "Nothing special," he hedges.

"Then how'd you get that scar?" I press, gesturing needlessly between my own eyebrows.

"I fell," he replies stiffly.

"Fell where?"

"Down some stairs."

"Stairs?"

"Stairs."

"Then why'd you change your name, I like Squall Loire better than Leon Leonhart."

"That was my father's idea." He turns the page.

"C'mon, Leon, just tell me."

He sighs and put the book down, pages spread, over his crossed thighs. I settle myself on his calves with the air of a child about to enjoy a good story.

He takes a deep breath to prepare himself. "I was a stripper. End of story." He picks the book back up.

My face splits into a cherry red smirk, "Whoa, whoa! You can't just- Details! I demand details!"

He sighs again and puts the book back down, "You're not going to shut up unless I tell you, are you?"

I grin wider and nod, "Yup."

He sighs for the third time, "My mom died so we moved away. My father couldn't take the memories, I guess. I was pissed. I didn't want to leave y-home. I didn't want to leave home.

"So, I ran away to this shitty city called NeverWas, or something like that, 'cept I didn't bring much money so I had to get a job. The only place I could get a job was this creepy pedo-bar run by two old guys, Cid and Sephiroth. One day, I tripped up the stairs to my shitty hotel room. End of story, for real this time."

I gape at him. "Seriously? That's your big, capitalized, Mysterious Past?"

"Yeah."

I roll over so my neck is on his calves, "So then your dad found you, freaked, and changed your name?"

"Yeah."

"Didn't you use a stage name?"

"Well, yeah, but-"

"What name?" I interrupt happily, eager to know absolutely everything.

"I really don't think-"

"What name?"

He mutters something low and incomprehensible.

"Try that again."

"Lestat de Valois."

I bark with laughter, "Oh yes, pretty little aristocrat runs away to become an actor. Brilliant!"

He flushes, "Shut up."

"So, wait, if you were a stripper-"

"No."

"You didn't even let me-"

"No."

"Just once-"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"You suck." But I love you anyway.

He smiles softly, emitting a sense of double-meaning in his words, "I know."

"I love myself, I want you to love me. When I'm feeling down I want you above me."

Divider is from I Touch Myself, specifically the cover by Jack Off Jill. (Is it bad it took me a few times to get the band name??)

Please review, it's the last chapter, and the Holiday season. Yes, I'm begging for reviews as presents (that or some Marxion dubcon hate-sex).