The Library

An--wait for it!--AkuZeku story. Gee ain't I predictable.

Summary: When Zexion reads, it makes him feel almost "whole". That's probably why he has come to seek solace in an enormous library...but what happens when Axel discovers his new refuge? AkuZeku

Rating: M

WARNINGS: Yaoi, mild physical abuse, Axel being a sadistic jerk, arson, some S&M, yadda yadda. Same warnings that apply to all my effed-up AkuZeku fics.

Notes: An AkuZeku fic inspired, funnily enough, by the new Doctor Who. Because if you squint really hard, the library in question just might be the same library in "Silence in the Library" and "Forest of the Dead". Not likely, though.

I've always liked the concept of the Organization members finding "wholeness" in their favorite hobbies (i.e., Demyx likes music, Vexen likes research, Marluxia likes...flowers?), so this is a play on that...and as well as where relationships might fit in there.

Chronology-wise, this happens some time before all the rest, after Axel and Zexion start a relationship but before they both come to realize just how much it means to them. Or something along those lines.

There were few things in the world Zexion could truly say he "liked", but reading was definitely one of them.

He knew, of course, that technically he was not supposed to feel emotions, being but a Nobody, a heartless, emotionless shell--and unlike some other members of the Organization (most prominently number IX...), he had no problem accepting this. This was truth, this was final. He had long accepted that he could not feel, and thus made little to no effort at pretending to have emotions. And this meant that being a Nobody, he wasn't truly able to "like" or "dislike" anything.

Still--he could never lose his fondness for books. Ienzo had loved reading, along with many other things--mostly things that Zexion cared little for, and no longer had any interest in. But he could never escape the attraction of a good, hefty, leather-bound novel. The logical part of Zexion knew that his attraction to books and reading was just one miserable attempt to cling on the full, human life he had left behind, much like Vexen continued pursuing research and Xigbar continued playing with guns. Books were the last relic of Ienzo that Zexion had to cling on, and he supposed that was the reason why he continued to enjoy reading so much.

Another part of him thought it was something else, though. Something deeper than a mere desire to evoke his former life...because whenever Zexion curled up in a chair, lost in an engaging novel, he could almost--almost--pretend that he could feel again. When his eyes followed the lines of text describing the thoughts, feelings, and emotions of the characters--

He could almost feel the same.

Of course, Zexion knew he didn't feel anything, that he was just being an idiot. Emotions were beyond his grasp and he had long accepted this, but for what other reason could he throw himself so intently, almost desperately, into his books and reading, hoping for one pathetic moment to be able to transcend the empty dull nothingness that ached where his heart had once been--to be able to truly feel again, if only for an insignificant second--

For quite some time, he had believed the only way he could ever "feel" again was through reading. That had, with time, changed, and now he was older and wiser and knew there were different avenues to "feel"...

But that didn't mean he had to lose his love of reading.

It was this "love", his first--and possibly--only, that had compelled him to come to this world, out of all the hundreds of worlds out there the Organization had discovered. This world was vast, and deserted, and empty; the Schemer had the suspicion that Heartless had overrun long ago, but couldn't entirely be sure, for the darkness he detected as he walked its halls did not seem to be the same as that of the Heartless. Nonetheless, these were trivial matters, and inconsequential to Zexion, who came to this world not for research, but for one simple reason:

The entire world was a library.

It wouldn't be accurate to say that Zexion had been "delighted" when he'd discovered this fact, for of course he could not feel emotion of any sort, and "delight" was certainly beyond him. Nonetheless, he couldn't help but admit that he had almost felt a tiny thrill of glee at discovering that every single inch of the entire planet seemed to be devoted entirely to a library. And best of all, as the world was no longer inhabited...

He had the whole thing to himself.

With time, Zexion began to make more trips to this world, more and more regular trips on the nights where he did not have missions (or when a certain someone was otherwise occupied...), where he would find a comfortable armchair to curl up in, a stack of heavy, leather-bound novels by his side. They weren't just the classics he had read in the Radiant Garden, but books that seemed to come from every corner of the universe--many written in alien languages, other describing adventures taking place at the edges of time and space, beyond the comprehension even of an Organization member like Zexion. There wern't just novels, either, but hundreds of thousands of academic texts and reference books...although Zexion only gave these the most passing of glances. He preferred fiction, because only through fiction could he almost feel like he was living another life, a life where he was whole...

Zexion had eventually come to claim one spot of the library--one tiny corner of the entire planet--for himself. Truth be told, although he was a Nobody who couldn't logically feel fear, he nonetheless couldn't help but feel a faint sense of ominous apprehension whenever he entered the world. The library was enormous, after all, covering an entire planet...with no one on it. The vast, silent library, with its towering shelves of dusty books, and perpetual dark shadows, seemed to give off an almost sepulcheral air. It became worse during the nights, when the sun slowly went down and the shadows lengthened--somehow, there was something about the shadows Zexion didn't quite like. Not only were they unnaturally heavy and dark, but they also seemed to practically expand, flowing like liquid, as the sun went down...

Again, he reminded himself of the scent of darkness that permeated the walls, shelves, and even the books of the library. The darkness that was unlike a Heartless's darkness, a darkness that was foreboding and ominous. But as it didn't seem to affect him, he continued returning to the library, taking his spot in a faded armchair, and summoning books with a lazy flick of the wrist through miles of hallways, where they settled gently in a neat stack beside him. The shadows surrounded him, but Zexion felt safe so long as he was fully absorbed in a book...and just for insurance, he had chosen a room with a glass ceiling, where he could clearly see the planet's large moon looming above the library, casting a comforting silvery light that enabled him to read even in the dark.

Sometimes, Zexion berated himself internally, telling himself that as a Nobody who could command the darkness with no fear for his heart, the last he should be afraid of was the dark. Still, this darkness was unfamiliar and he didn't like it, but it didn't prevent him from seeking out the library to read. Nothing, as it happened, could keep the Cloaked Schemer from a planet-sized library.

This night, like so many other nights, Zexion had sought solace in the comforting, yellowing pages of the library's books, all the while curled up in the familiar armchair, the light of the moon illuminating the book's pages for him. He was all alone, the only sound in the library being the regular crackle as he turned the book's stiff pages, and the sound of his own faint breathing. This, the Nobody reflected, was as close to "home" as he could get. Alone with a book in an enormous library--how could it get any better for him than this?

The book he was currently reading was written in an alien language he was unfamiliar with, but Zexion had visited this library enough times that he had eventually been able to translate a few of the languages the books were written in--very roughly, but enough to get the general gist of the text. The story seemed to be a love story, similar to Romeo and Juliet, about alien lovers on different planets that so happened to be at war with each other. Even though Zexion wasn't exactly fluent in the language he coudl already tell the writing was overly saccharine and melodramatic. With a sigh, he replaced the book on its stack, and sought out another novel, hopefully one that wasn't so sickeningly sweet.

Love stories...Ienzo had never been a fan of romances, and Zexion had inherited that dislike, though even more sharply and vehemently--as he himself could not experience "love". There were fools like Demyx who wandered around blathering about finding "soulmates" and "true love", but Zexion had never believed in those concepts, particularly for Nobodies with no hearts and emotions and no right to exist. There could be no love for him, only animal physical lust. Which he supposed was what Demyx confused for "true love", but Zexion knew better.

He didn't love Axel. It was nothing more than lust.

Just as Zexion had settled on a heavy, blue-bound volume, that seemed to be an involved adventure, a sudden sound distracted him--the sound of a portal of darkness opening behind him.

Immediatley, the Cloaked Schemer whirled around, summoning his lexicon, startled--he had thought he was the only member of the Organization who knew about the existence of this world. Well, it wouldn't do if someone else had discovered his haven; he had chosen this world precisely to get away from the rest, so they wouldn't bother him while he read...

The challenge Zexion had been about to deliver died on his lips, though, when he recognized the intruder's scent.

"Hello, Zexion," said Axel, his familiar confident smirk in place as he strode across the shadows into the pool of light the moon cast on Zexion's cozy corner. "Nice place you've got here."

"VIII," said Zexion coldly, reluctantly sinking back down into the armchair and banishing his lexicon. "How did you find me here?"

"Not hard," was all Axel said, and then, even more cryptically, "I just wanted to know where you were and guess what, here you are."

Zexion glared at Axel but knew from experience that he would not get anything more out of his infuriating supposed-junior. "What exactly are you doing here? Don't you have a mission?"

"Finished early," said Axel flippantly, taking one confident stride, and then another, towards the arm chair. "I came back to my room expecting you to be on your hands and knees, ready to service me, but guess what? You weren't anywhere in sight."

"You're such a sick pervert," said Zexion heatedly, fixing Axel with a withering glower. "I'd never do that."

"Not unless I was threatening you," said Axel, his smirk tightening considerably, but his eyes remained cold and focused. He was now only a few feet in front of Zexion, and the smaller Nobody pressed himself firmly against the back of the chair, in an effort to further the distance between him and Axel--but of course, there was no escape. He tried to shrink back as Axel extended a hand, but Axel was not deterred and simply touched him, lightly, on the cheek.

"Damn you," growled Zexion, glaring at Axel, while the redhead applied more pressure, pressing down harder on his cheek to the point of almost-painfulness. But heaven be damned if Zexion was going to let his pain show...

"I think it's cute," Axel drawled lazily, leaning in closer to Zexion so their faces were only inches apart, "how you continue to rebel. Hmm? You should know there's no hope."

"What do you want?" said Zexion with a weary sigh, turning away so he wouldn't have to meet Axel's shining green eyes--but was prevented by Axel grabbing him tightly by the face and turning him around so they were staring eye to eye again. Zexion growled but Axel didn't seem care. "In case you've forgotten, this morning I just--"

"Well, it sure as hell isn't morning anymore," was Axel's flippant response. His hand moved down, slipping down to catch Zexion by the chin, and tilt his head up uncomfortably. Zexion hissed in protest--Axel's grip was hardly gentle--and he felt vulnerable like this, the pale white expanse of his convulsing throat exposed perfectly to the fire-user...

"Ngh--damn you, Axel--" he snarled.

"Ha." But then, miraculously enough, Axel released his iron grip on Zexion's chin, and turned away from the Cloaked Schemer, to survey the darkness surrounding the pool of silver moonlight with an almost curious intent. Zexion glared at Axel, wondering what game he was playing now.

After some time, Zexion tired of Axel's seemingly pointless scrutiny of the shadows, and snapped, "What exactly are you doing, might I ask? Because if you're just going to stand there, I suggest you leave--"

"Hmm?" Axel turned around, the expression on his face thoroughly disinterested, as if he hadn't heard Zexion's question at all. Zexion suppressed a curious burst of rage within himself, telling himself that he couldn't feel angry, anyway. "Oh, sorry about that. Pretty creepy place, isn't it?"

"Tch." Zexion's scowl deepened. "It is a library."

"Yeah, a library big enough to be a world of its own," said Axel, still frowning almost pensively off into the darkness. "With no one in it 'cept you. Wonder what happened to the people who built it?"

"That is clearly unimportant," sniffed Zexion, unable to hide the haughty note that had slipped into his voice. Axel turned around, a slight perturbed frown on his face.

"Still. It's a bit weird, isn't it? It's so...dark. Could do with a little light, what d'you say, huh?" With that, Axel lifted his hand--a small flame dancing in his palm.

Zexion immediately leapt out of his seat, summoning his lexicon and unable to keep his fury out of his voice. "No--don't you DARE, Number VIII--"

"Ha ha," said Axel cavalierly, clenching his fist tightly and extinguishing the flame with a little puff of smoke. "No need to get your panties in a bunch, VI. I gotta say, though, that was worth it if only for your reaction."

"Damn you!" snarled Zexion. He supposed that if he could feel, he would be bright red from embarrassment at the moment...but even though he couldn't, he could still feel a burning heat rise in his face. Shit, he was the Cloaked Schemer, the manipulator of shadows...he shouldn't have fallen for Axel's very obvious provocation. Well, the damage was done and now all he could do was glare as fiercely as he could at the redhead, who didn't seem to care.

Axel laughed a little, but then turned around and cast another wide glance around the dim, shadowy library. "Still...heh, you really care about this place, don't you?"

"Tch." Zexion merely glared even harder at Axel. "I cannot care for anything, VIII, as you are very well aware--"

"Ha, well, yeah," said Axel, waving a land dismissively to the side, as if what Zexion had said was unimportant and irrelevant, but of course it wasn't, because their inability to feel was the very foundation of their damn being. "But you can't deny you do like this library, don't you?" He poked one of the books lying in the large stack beside the arm chair.

Zexion glared sullenly at Axel for a moment, but then jerked his head in a slow, reluctant nod. "Hmph. I suppose."

"I can understand," continued Axel, now pacing back and forth with an almost manic intent, barely seeming to be paying any attention to Zexion as he seemed to be formulating a theory on the spot, a theory that he felt he had to share with Zexion. "I mean, you do like reading, and guess what, this is one enormous library occupying a whole world, huh? Heaven for you, isn't it? And plus--it's all dark and creepy, which is just your thing. All these shadows, everywhere...heh. Just your thing."

He paused, and stared off pensively in the distance again, his face unreadable in the shadows. Zexion watched Axel for some time, arms folded, somewhat confused by Axel's new pensiveness. Axel had always been impulsive and eager, never one for philosophical musing, but now...he looked almost contemplative as he stared off into the shadows.

"You like it, don't you? You really like it." Axel turned back around, though he didn't look at Zexion, instead extending an arm to point at the stack of books next to the chair. "Books and reading, huh? You like it."

"Yes," agreed Zexion stiffly. It wouldn't hurt to indulge Axel on this bizarre count, would it...? "I enjoy reading...perhaps something an idiot like you would be unable to comprehend, but...when I read...when I lose myself in a good novel...I can almost believe it. That I am whole."

He had no idea why he had confessed all this to Axel--he had certainly never told anyone this before, not even Vexen and Lexaeus. After all, it was frankly idiotic, a child's belief, a child's hopeless wish and fantasy. He was sure the other members would all laugh if he told them (not that they could really feel superiorly amused, but they certainly all knew how to fake it and they would) about how reading made him feel more whole. Axel would laugh too, and that would make it all the more worse, because like it or not, whether Zexion really wanted to admit it...

...he wanted Axel's approval.

But much to his surprise, the redhead didn't laugh--he just turned around, a surprised look on his face, but then he quickly rearranged his expression back to his usual casual smirk. Zexion watched Axel blankly, waiting for the mocking to come, but instead, when Axel spoke, his tone was almost...contemplative. "Hmm. Is that really so? Is it just books that make you feel that way?"

Zexion caught on in a flash, but when he spoke he kept his voice calm. "Just what do you mean by that?"

"You know what I mean, Zex." Axel's smirk widened by perhaps a fraction. "What about me?"

"Indeed, what about you," replied Zexion, his tone still as blank and indifferent as before. Of course he knew exactly what Axel was talking about--but he was not going to indulge the Flurry of Dancing Flames. He took a step back, and another step, until he was right next to the stack of books, and then let his hand rest--almost affectionately--on the cover of the book on the top of the stack.

"You know," said Axel, the faintest note of impatience invading his voice. "I mean, all those nights in bed--you must have some opinion or the other on them. If you keep seeking me out, doesn't that mean that I must make you feel a little more 'whole' too? Huh?"

Zexion had to suppress the sudden--and very unbecoming--urge to laugh. Not a loud, raucous laugh (he shuddered in disgust), more like a low, insidiously amused chuckle. What a fool Axel was. Apparently, he too was in possession of a secret, and highly immature desire. Did he actually think that the reason Zexion came to his room so often during the nights, the reason Zexion was willing to strip and prostrate himself for Axel, was because Zexion sought wholeness from him? What a naive idiot...

The only reason Zexion came to Axel at all was simple--lust.

But really, was it that simple? a small nagging voice inside the Schemer's head demanded. If it really was based solely on lust, then why did Zexion come to Axel's room the nights when neither of them were feeling particularly lustful, just so he could rest his head on Axel's shoulder and sleep by the redhead's side, all the while tightly holding hands? Why had Axel started coming to Zexion's room, not just to seek physical fulfillment but simply to wrap his arms around the smaller Nobody, while cursing at the world...and Zexion comforted him.

No, these were mere aberrations, this didn't mean there was anything more to Axel and Zexion's relationship than the hate-filled, sweaty, sadistic nights they spent together. It didn't mean that Axel cared for Zexion and vice versa, did it?

Tch...even if I could care, I wouldn't care for him, thought Zexion sourly, glaring coldly at Axel. When he spoke, his tone was equally as cold: "Do not be so delusional, VIII."

Axel took a step back, looking almost like he'd been slapped--but only for a moment. He shook his head, seemingly to clear it, and then strode up to Zexion's side. Zexion tensed, expecting Axel to--what? Assault him?--but the redhead made no move to touch Zexion. Instead, he reached out and placed a hand, with an utmost delicacy, on the cover of the book on the top of the stack. Zexion stared, his head swimming in surprise.

"What are you--" he began.

"Huh. Figured as much," said Axel, his voice quiet, tone surprisingly unreadable. Zexion stared at Axel, slightly apprehensive. Just what was Axel planning...? "Yeah, of course, I guess it's 'cause you're just a perv. But tell me--what's so special about a book? This--" He lifted the novel high above his head "--is just a bunch of paper, isn't it? What makes it so important to you?"

"Axel--" began Zexion, imbuing his tone with as much threatening intent as he could manage.

"Just answer the goddamn question, Zexy. What's so important about this book?" A slight hint of disapproval--or maybe Zexion was just imagining--had slipped into Axel's voice, and he was fingering the spine of the book with a level of--of near impatience, as if he couldn't wait to...

Well. Swallowing hard, Zexion said, as coldly as he could, "I don't expect you to understand, but...there's more to a book than just paper, you know. There are words. Words are power, VIII, a concept that you seem to fail to grasp. And when the words are particularly powerful..."

He trailed off, but felt he didn't need to say more, because Axel caught on. "They make you feel whole," the Flurry of Dancing Flames said quietly. "Is that it?"

"Yes," said Zexion stiffly, glancing over at the stack of novels again. "When I read a powerful novel, Axel...it makes me feel whole."

"Hmm." That was all Axel said--nothing more. He continued holding the book--a hefty, blue-covered volume--high above his head, examining it with an almost pensive light in his brilliant green eyes. The insensity of Axel's scrutiny was beginning to bother Zexion, who was sure that Axel had no good plans in store for that book...

"Now, if you don't mind, put that book down," he said, extending his hand and waiting for Axel to hand it over, lowering his voice threateningly. Damn it, he had enough of Axel's stupid games, now all he wanted was for number VIII to leave him alone and in peace..."Hand it over."

"Hmm," said Axel again, still examining the book with an undue amount of interest. "Reading makes you feel whole, huh, Zexy boy? And I imagine you must love this place, then--so many books! A whole planets' worth, huh? Must be heaven for you. So many books, so many shadows. Perfect for you."

"Yes," said Zexion, feeling a faint twinge of annoyance rise up within him--Axel had already said this before, and Zexion had already gotten the point. This library was perfect for him. Well, of course it was...in fact, a small, daring part of him thought to venture that he almost felt like he was--like he was at home in the library. It didn't get any further than that, because of course Zexion knew there was no home for him, forsaken non-being with no heart...

"Perfect, just perfect," repeated Axel absently. He ran his hand down the spine of the blue-covered book with a tenderness that made Zexion shiver--he had long learned that when Axel displayed any kind of tenderness at all...he was at his most dangerous. "Perfect for you, buddy. But..."

"Axel..." said Zexion quietly, taking a step closer to the redhead. He was beginning to suspect what Axel was going to do, but no, no, he couldn't, even Axel couldn't go that far--"Axel, please. Put the book down. I--I'll go back with you. I'll sleep with you, if that's what you want...put it down, Axel..."

"But," repeated Axel, seemingly completely ignorant of Zexion's pleading. "But...it's hell to me."

He turned, ever-so-slowly, to face Zexion, a slow, insidious, utterly evil smirk crossing his face. But Zexion had no eyes on Axel--no, all of his attention was fixated on the book, the book in Axel's hands, now burning brilliantly with golden-orange flames, spreading with a maniacal intent from where Axel clutched the book by the spine, across the cover, over the pages, causing them to curl and blacken...

"Axel--STOP!!" shouted Zexion, true horror ringing in his voice, but he could do nothing as the Flurry of Dancing Flames, still smirking, dropped the burning book on to the stack that Zexion had cultivated, for so many weeks, beside the familiar arm chair...he could only watch in stricken horror as the flames spread eagerly from the blazing book into the rest of the stack, eating up the dry paper like kindling, flames leaping and roaring and growing in intensity with every second...

Sparks began to leap in great showers from the burning books, landing on the library's wooden floors, coming alive as small fires of their own, all around dispelling the darkness, filling the library with their ghastly orange-red glow. The flames spread, heading with an almost vengeful hunger to the enormous, towering wooden shelves, holding thousands and thousands of books and hundreds of tons of kindling for the fires...and Zexion could only watch, barely able to breathe, as the flames danced maniacally through the library, banishing the dark shadows, sending them retreating into the distance...

"Axel, Axel, you can't, Axel..." he whispered, over and over again, watching the library go up in flames around him and hardly daring to believe it, but no, it was happening-- "You can't, Axel, you can't--"

"Who says I can't? You?" Axel's smirk was practically fiendish in the brilliant orange-red illumination from the flames. He took one step forward, and then two, and then three, until he was directly in front of Zexion, who didn't even try to back off, why delay the inevitable? "Well, as you can see, your words and shadows--are powerless. Now..."

He seized Zexion by the front of the coat, and, tightening his grip on the black leather, hauled the slate-haired Nobody off his feet and pulled him into a deep, passionate, and thoroughly one-sided kiss. Zexion gasped and sputtered, in an attempt to protest, but Axel merely pressed harder into the kiss, bruising Zexion's lips, his tongue stabbing roughly into the back of Zexion's mouth, forcing Zexion to resist the urge to gag and retch--and then, when he finally pulled out, he bit, hard, on Zexion's lower lip, drawing blood.

"You only have me," hissed the Flurry of Dancing Flames, triumph ringing in his voice as he smirked down at the smaller Nobody in his arms, head hung in shamed defeat, blood streaking down his chin, unable and unwilling to look as the dark and silent library went up into flames around him...now bright with the wicked glow of the flames, now filled with the crackling of the fire dancing up and down shelves, devouring hundreds and thousands of books as it did so.

When Axel wrapped his arms around Zexion, the Cloaked Schemer made no effort to protest. He lowered his head on to Axel's shoulder, shuddering, the corners of his eyes stinging, and slowly, reluctantly, lifted his arms and embraced Axel as well. There was nothing else he could do.

Axel had won.

Finis

I have the strange suspicion this is the most depressing thing I've written so far. Yes, even more so than "A Relationship Of Equals". Feel free to agree or disagree, but be sure to tell me in your reviews! If you read this, please send a review or two or three or four in my way.

Also, look at my profile for a link to another AkuZeku fic, this time mostly from Axel's perspective! I couldn't post it on this site because of the no-songfics rule, so, blehhh.

Anyway, I've completely given up on being able to write something fluffy. Again, if you liked this (or didn't), be sure to let me know.