Wild Card
Pairings: Xaldin/Luxord (with hints of Xigbar/Demyx, Marluxia/Vexen, and Zexion/Lexaeus)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Slash/yaoi/boy-love, language, and sex; do not read if you're uncomfortable with such material. :3

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Ordinarily, Xaldin was a morning person. Unlike some of his subordinates, he never complained about being required to get up and report to duty in the mornings. In fact, he rather enjoyed being up and alert when half of his comrades were still rubbing sleep from their eyes. Perhaps it was a remnant from the days when his Somebody was an apprentice of Ansem, an arduous undertaking that often required him to be up at 6 A.M. sharp. Lately, however, after several days of working late into the night and staking out new worlds, the man was exhausted, overworked, and ready for a damn vacation.    

Thus, when his alarm clock went off at 7:00, Xaldin all but assaulted the electronic device, a moody gust of wind knocking it off the nightstand onto the cold white floor, where it shattered. He looked down at the broken pieces of his former clock. Maybe he'd regret it later, but right now, all that he cared about was that the infernal thing wasn't making his head hurt anymore. He threw the covers off himself and grudgingly slumped out of bed, dragging his bulky frame to the bathroom to take care of business and get dressed.

At least, he thought while tugging on his black gloves, he was fortunate enough to get away with simply rolling out of bed and reporting to the Superior; with his dreadlocks and massive sideburns, he didn't require as much preparation in the mornings as, say, Axel. How the man managed to use a small fortune's worth of hair gel each day, he would never understand. After tugging on a pair of black leather pants and shrugging into his Organization coat, he set off to the Grey Area, dully thinking that it would be nice to have a day off, but not getting his hopes up. The Superior wasn't fond of vacations when there was work to be done in completing Kingdom Hearts.

Needless to say, he was delighted (if one could call it that, seeing as how he lacked a heart to feel such emotion) to find a sign posted in the lounge upon entering: "Operations Closed for Vacation." About time.

The other members of the Organization were either present or just milling in as he arrived to hear the good news. Still feeling somewhat sullen and grumpy from lack of sleep, he opted to retreat to a couch in the corner and observe the others, who were too busy formulating plans and discussing amongst themselves to pay much attention to him.

"Am I late?" Demyx, easily the laziest of the thirteen, was the last to trickle in, still yawning. Looking around, he spotted the notice, and his face lit up visibly. "Awww, yeah!" The blond cheered, raising his fists in victory. "Man, I've been saying that we've needed a day off for forever. Finally, a vacation!"

Xaldin watched as Xigbar, easily the closest member of the original six apprentices to him, approached Demyx from behind. "Well, it's not like you'd be doing any work anyways," he taunted lightly, sniggering at his own wisecrack.

"Xiggy!" protested Demyx, whirling around to face him. "Come on, I work just as hard as everyone else does… well, no, maybe I don't," he conceded, "but I try, man! Give me at least some credit."

"Relax, kiddo." Xigbar laid a hand on his shoulder, grinning at him. "I'm kidding. So what are you going to do on this fine day off?"

Demyx made an indistinct, harrumphing noise of discontentment at Xigbar's teasing, but he had already moved on to the next thing on his mind. "I want to go to the ocean," he decided. "The surf, the sun, nothing to do but kick back and relax… sounds like a perfect day to me."

Xaldin rolled his eyes. Hardly a surprise there, considering that the musician's element was water, and he seemed more at home in it than out of it. What he was surprised about, however, was that Larxene, who was known as the Savage Nymph and was easily one of the cruelest members in the organization, seemed to be taking an interest in the discussion.

"I think that sounds like a lovely idea," Larxene crooned, entering the conversation where she was not wanted.

"But you hate the water," Demyx pointed out, ever the obvious one.  

"I know." She grinned enigmatically, electricity crackling around her. Demyx stepped backwards, looking slightly nervous. Larxene always scared him a bit, as she constantly made him the subject of her malicious jokes, and he wasn't about to get electrocuted again. As he backed away, he bumped into Marluxia, who pushed him aside, talking over him as if he weren't even present.

"Oh, I like your thinking, Larxene…" he commented airily.

The two of them were partners in crime, and Xaldin couldn't help but be suspicious whenever they bent their heads together, as they were doing so now. You never knew what they were plotting privately. The schemers glanced simultaneously at Vexen, the icy scientist who was sitting alone, scribbling one of his half-baked formulas on a sheaf of paper. Xaldin groaned internally. Marluxia and Larxene were always up to no good, and they delighted in tormenting their elder, which invariably resulted in him getting worked up and raging at them in his shrill, peculiar voice. The Lancer had half a mind to leave the room and retreat to sleep, but a morbid curiosity compelled him to stay and see just how this would pan out.

Unaware of the two Nobodies steadily advancing on him, Vexen frowned down at a page of his notes, squinting as he crossed out what he had just written. Unfortunately for him, he was too absorbed to notice his least favorite coworkers until they accosted him. Marluxia clamped his right shoulder while Larxene took his left. He let out a slight squeal of surprise and indignantly demanded, "What are you thinking?"

"Oh, we were just considering a nice little trip to the beach…"

"…And think that it would be simply wonderful if you joined us," Larxene finished, a nasty smirk on her face.

"I am a scientist. I do not have time for such frivolous endeavors," the chilly scholar huffed, speaking to them as if they were below him, which, as Numbers XI and XII, they were.

Hardly surprising in Xaldin's eyes – the man had probably never even heard of the concept of vacation before. But that didn't deter the two mischief makers from harassing the scholar. Nothing out of the ordinary there.

Meanwhile, Demyx had stumbled back over to Xigbar, grumbling at being pushed around by the others and mumbling a few choice words about the bullies. "They had better not come along with us… I don't want any bossy coworkers ruining my vacation."

"Don't worry about it, kid," Xigbar answered, as laid-back as ever. "It looks like they have their own agenda anyway. Which means that it'll be just you and me, yeah?"

Demyx grew considerably cheerier at that and grinned. "Great! Just let me go grab my suit…" He was already bounding down the hallway to Room IX.

"Suit? What suit?" Xigbar called after him, incredulous, but left the room to follow him.

Xaldin, who had remarkably sharp hearing, couldn't help but overhear Saix's voice, presumably as Xigbar passed Xemnas's right-hand man in the corridor: "And just where are you going?"

One could practically hear Xigbar's smirk in his drawling voice as he answered, "We're going to the frigging beach, motherfucker!" and disappeared into a dark portal to chase after Demyx.

Xaldin's lips twitched at the response. So that was at least two members gone for the day, and it looked like another three would be following: Vexen was storming out of the room, with the persistent Marluxia and Larxene behind him, presumably to goad him some more. This was a good sign. Xaldin's own plans for the day were to stay in and recuperate, so long as everyone else figured out what they were doing and got the hell out of his way.

With his primary distractions gone, he couldn't help but notice Lexaeus and Zexion, the Silent Hero and the Cloaked Schemer, in a removed corner. They were two reserved loners who often kept to themselves, and Xaldin still never knew quite what to make of them, despite the fact that their Somebodies, like his own, were amongst Ansem's Apprentices. He had never gotten to know them quite as well as he did the others.

Lexaeus bent down to Zexion's level and asked, in his usual low, calm voice, "What do you have planned for today, Zexion?"

Zexion absentmindedly rubbed his chin with his hand as he mused, "Well, I was thinking of perhaps spending some time in the library today." He looked up, meeting Lexaeus's gaze. "Would you care to join me?"

"Yes," That was the thing about Lexaeus; he never used two words when he could make do with one, "I would."

Zexion reached up to gently take hold of the larger man's sleeve and lead him out of the room, the two of them ducking down the corridor that led to the spacious library of The Castle That Never Was.

Alone at last, Xaldin heaved a heavy sigh of relief and spoke aloud to himself. "Well, this place is refreshingly quiet with Demyx and the others gone."

"What are the odds of that?" came a voice from behind him.

Xaldin nearly jumped out of his skin, a reaction akin to a heart attack. The irony of the sensation was not lost on him. He quickly jerked around to see who was behind him, only to find himself staring into a pair of eyes as blue as the Caribbean sea of their owner's home world.

"Luxord!" Xaldin growled, thoroughly unamused at the Gambler's antics. "And just how long were you there for?"

"Oh, about a half hour or so," he contemplated, emerging from behind the couch to sit next to Xaldin, crossing his legs as he did so. Xaldin stared at him stonily. In truth, he found it impossible to stay mad at Luxord, as charming as he was. The Brit, with his lightly bronzed skin, short, platinum blond Caesar haircut, and thin mustache and beard, was something of a wild card. Piercings lined both ears, belying an unbridled side underneath the exterior presentation of an enchanting gentleman and gambler. He had chance and fortune on his side, which probably explained why Xaldin was letting him go unscathed after having the living daylights scared out of him.

"What do you want?" he said tiredly.

"Just wondering what your plans were for today, love." Casual as ever.

"I'm staying in," he answered shortly. "No escapades to the beach for me, thanks. I need a real break."

"Hmm." The other man seemed to be pondering something, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Xaldin eyed him warily.

Luxord looked up at him with a mischievous look in his eyes and a devilish grin. "Well. I suppose I shall let you return to your room then, as I presume you'll want to relax." With that farewell, Luxord summoned up a dark corridor and stepped into it, vanishing into the darkness.

"…Right." After staring at the spot where the enigmatic Nobody been just seconds before, Xaldin pulled himself off of the couch and did just that.

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One of the perks about being third in rank was that his chambers were rightfully closer to the center of life in The Castle That Never Was. The grand castle was spacious with untold amounts of rooms and areas, and the heart of it all was the room where nothing gathers, ubiquitously known by the Organization as The Round Room.

The closer to this hub, the more prominent the room: the lounge, The Kitchen That Never Was, Xemnas's own quarters. As one traveled further and further into the castle, the layout became increasingly chaotic and the rooms lessened in importance. It was no wonder that most of the denizens of the castle preferred to travel by the Corridors of Darkness.

Xaldin, on the other hand, actually rather enjoyed walking. Of course, he probably wouldn't be if he was, say, Number X and had to take a rather convoluted and lengthy path to reach his bedroom.

Needless to say, it came as something of a surprise to open the door to his own room and find the aforementioned Number X perched on his bed.

"Luxord." He was being remarkably calm, all things considered. "What in the name of Kingdom Hearts are you doing in here?"

"I thought that perhaps you'd enjoy some amiable companionship and quality time as long as we're on holiday," the Gambler answered smoothly.

"So rather than discuss this with me while we were conversing in the lounge, you lure me into my bedroom for some 'quality time?'"

"You read too much into things. I merely assumed that you'd rather be at home in your own element while enjoying your break and decided to join you."

Xaldin decided to give up in decoding the other Nobody and sat down across from him, folding his arms as he began, "Right. Now what?"

"Let's play a game, shall we?" Luxord suggested, a smirk creeping across his face.

"Luxord, for the last time, I am not playing strip poker with you. I thought we had decided that after the fifth time of me being rendered completely naked while you remained fully clothed."

Luxord's chuckle rumbled in his throat. "Oh, but why not?" He reached out to toy with one of Xaldin's dreadlocks. Catching the murderous look in the other man's eyes, he surmised that he was not amused and dropped his hand. "-but never mind that. No, I was referring to another little challenge. A timed game. The first to immobilize the other shall be the winner."

"Why do I suspect that you're up to something?"

He arched one platinum-blond eyebrow. "Are you implying that my intentions are anything but pure? T'is is just a little something to pass the time while everyone else in the castle is occupied elsewhere."

"I know your intentions aren't pure."

"Rubbish. I am a proper gentleman, I'll have you know. Consider it a test of skills, if you will."

"Fine," Xaldin acquiesced, rising from his seat to tower over the other man threateningly. "Then I accept your challenge."

"Excellent." Raising one hand, Luxord summoned a set of shining numbers in thin air, an ethereal counter. "And who knows? Maybe I'll even get lucky tonight."

"That better not be a euphemism."

"Nonsense, it's merely a figure of speech. Now let the game… begin." He snapped his fingers, an impressive feat considering that he was still wearing his leather gloves, smirking devilishly as the shimmering numbers began their countdown.

"As you wish." A gust of wind rippled across the floor, whipping both men's black coats around their ankles as the gale lifted Xaldin gracefully into the air. In a flash of white light, he summoned his six lances, gripping two in his hands while the remaining four floated around him. He raised one of his lances and pointed it at Luxord in a show of challenge, grinning smugly before swiftly bring his arm down. It sliced through the air, sending a flurry of his hovering lances flying directly at Luxord.

Quick as a flash, Luxord brought his hands up in a defensive position, summoning up Fair Game as a defensive barrier and effectively protecting himself from the piercing lances. Moving deliberately, he banished the barrier and sent a flurry of playing cards spiraling towards Xaldin with the intent to blindside him, an effort that Xaldin matched. The Gambler's movements were quick and elegant, and the fast-paced battle seemed more like a dance than combat, with each participant parrying the other's blow easily.

Xaldin ground his teeth, frustrated by the Gambler of Fate's unpredictability and constant motion, fervently wishing the man would stay in one place so he could finish him off for good. Thinking rapidly, he began to teleport short distances to avoid Luxord's continuous attacks from reaching him. The cardsharp was playing a game, which meant there had to be some sort of pattern to his actions, if only he could learn the rules and use them to his own advantage.

All it took was one false step on the blond's behalf. Luxord fanned out a deck of cards that crackled with dark energy and began to spin around the room, whirling in time with Xaldin's own hurricane. The second Luxord faltered in selecting a card to manipulate, Xaldin seized the opportunity and struck with deadly force, the blow of his lances coupled with a powerful blast of wind slamming his opponent against the wall.

Luxord grunted at the harsh blow and struggled to extract himself from Xaldin's grip only to find that he couldn't. The six lances had effectively nailed him to the wall, piercing the fabric of his uniform and loose sleeves, preventing him from moving.

Satisfied, Xaldin held him at arm's length and met the blond's fiery gaze, convinced he had won.

The next thing he knew, his lances were clattering to the floor and his victim was ducking under his arm to escape. Dumbfounded, he turned around vulnerably, not quick enough to avoid Luxord's razor-sharp reflexes. An onslaught of cards whistled through the air around his feet, tripping him up, and Luxord struck at him, aiming for the legs to take him down.

Xaldin hit the ground with a thud with Luxord, who had gained the upper hand, on top of him. The Gambler, having restricted mobility on Xaldin's legs, positioned himself so that his weight was concentrated on the Lancer's chest and held down his arms, rendering the considerably larger man immobile.

Disoriented and enraged, Xaldin spat, "What did you do?" There was no way he could have escaped unassisted; his lances made sure of that, as they were firmly embedded in the wall.

"You'd be surprised what a manipulator of time can do," Luxord said with a self-satisfied smile that made Xaldin's blood boil. "Freeze time. Even rewind it, to a certain extent. Or alter it so that the slightest movement can make the difference in the outcome of the game. Which reminds me… time's up." And indeed, the silver numbers hovering above them struck zero.

The Lancer shot daggers at him with a single, disgusted look. "You're a filthy cheater."

"Correction: I am an opportunist." He seemed remarkably cheerful for someone who was sitting on top of a murderous and not-too-happy Number III. "Which is why I always win. Now…" he purred, bringing his face closer to Xaldin's. "I think what this game needs is a few thrills, wouldn't you say?"

Still aggravated at the other's methods of winning and domineering attitude, Xaldin said stiffly, "If you have a point to make, Number X, then make it." He was tired of beating around the bush and demanded to know just what the cryptic man's intentions were.

But naturally, he could never make things simple for him and, propping his chin in his hand, continued leisurely, "Just look at this castle and its veritable medley of relationships – I'm noticing a pattern of suits. Each pair contains a dominant card that trumps the other. Exempli gratia, the only way Demyx would ever top would be if Xigbar was humoring the kid. Furthermore, Saix is Xemnas's dog, and the Superior can easily have his way with him. Then you have Lexaeus and Zexion. Need I elaborate further?"

"And your point is…?" Xaldin replied drolly, arching one eyebrow. The Brit simply had to take the roundabout way when explaining something, constantly relating life to one big gamble.

"It's all in the draw of the cards," Luxord concluded, smirking as he leaned over Xaldin, still keeping him pinned to the floor. "Which means that you… are mine. I have my hand, and I'm ready to play it."

Comprehension finally dawning on him, Xaldin snorted. "You talk too much, Gambler." Summoning up his brute strength, he managed to roll over, flipping Luxord and pinning him to the floor. It helped that he had at least four inches on him and a considerably larger frame as well – but Luxord was no lightweight himself. "And in case you didn't realize, I am nobody's bitch."

Somewhat amused at the sudden turn of events, but not seeming to mind too much, Luxord laced his hands behind his head and opened his mouth to make another witty remark, but Xaldin silenced him by crushing their lips together. He could feel the other man's grin widening as he returned the kiss; Luxord always got what he wanted. He knew how to play the right cards. That was his policy on life: to win, and he held no scruples about playing dirty to achieve his means.

Maybe it was this viewpoint that made the kiss shared so intense; both men were determined to dominate, to prove his superiority over the other, to win. Xaldin's mouth moved hungrily over Luxord's, which responded harshly. The two fought with each other, lips seeking out lips, until Luxord unexpectedly bit Xaldin's bottom lip – hard – and the Lancer let out an involuntary, instinctive gasp of surprise.

He could feel Luxord's muffled chuckle vibrating in his throat, and he growled in disapproval. As punishment for the nip, he gripped the blond's jaw to still him, aggressively tipping his chin up and attacking him again, more forcefully this time.

The heat of the moment was broken when Xaldin pulled away, a thin strand of saliva connecting their mouths before breaking, severing their contact. He was breathing heavily, lips parted and eyes glued on Luxord, who met his gaze with an equal intensity. Luxord's chest rose and fell beneath him with each deep breath he took, and he realized that the blond was just as affected by the passionate embrace as he was. It turned him on to know that he could have such an effect on the Gambler, as reluctant as he was to admit it.

As if reading the other's thoughts, Luxord spoke up, his voice dripping with confidence.  "Don't think you've won just yet. The game's only just beginning, and it's time to up the ante." He sat up slightly to give himself a freer range of movement. Having repositioned himself, he daringly reached out to tug on the zipper of Xaldin's coat, revealing a muscular torso. "Are you willing to risk it all?"

Xaldin didn't answer right away, self-consciously trying to keep himself in check as Luxord's roving hands explored his body, but he finally cleared his throat and asked, "Do I have a choice in the matter?" It was partly a rhetorical question, since he suspected he knew the answer already. At this point, it didn't even matter whether he said yes or not, because Luxord was undoubtedly going to continue this bizarre, twisted game of his regardless of consent.

"Not really." Those wandering hands slid down the Lancer's chest, stopping when they reached the waist of his pants, where they lingered suggestively.

Xaldin, who had been sitting stock-still and wordlessly following the movement with his eyes, looked up at the Gambler and acknowledged him. The expression on the blond's face could only be described as wicked – one eyebrow was cocked roguishly, there was a mischievous glint in his eyes, and a sardonic grin tugged on the corners of his lips. He had managed to slip out from underneath Xaldin while he was disarming him and now knelt before him, taking charge. Luxord moved forward and subtly steered Xaldin towards his bed. He leaned up against the larger man, one hand working at his fly.

While Luxord undid his pants, Xaldin couldn't help but snort at the whole farce. "Pure intentions, my ass."

"And a very fine arse it is too," Luxord remarked slyly, slipping his hands around Xaldin's waist to cop a feel. He pushed Xaldin flat onto his back on the bed and climbed on top, straddling him and swiftly ridding him of his Organization coat. For a moment, he sat there and admired Xaldin's ripped form, trailing one tanned hand over his toned abs. Humming in pleasure, he stretched himself against the Lancer, breathing in his musky, nutmeg scent. It was a warm, slightly spicy aroma that he found tantalizing, and he ran his tongue over Xaldin's skin, wondering aimlessly if he would taste the same.

Xaldin shuddered at the sudden sensation, then immediately rebuked himself for reacting so submissively. It seemed to please the Gambler though, as he took it one step further and began to suck on Xaldin's nipple. As he did so, he rubbed up against the Lancer, and Xaldin closed his eyes, cursing him furiously. The sensual movement was not doing much to help the persistent problem in his pants, and he knew that Luxord was doing it on purpose, the bastard.

"Like that?" The Brit murmured, confirming Xaldin's suspicions as he continued to grind provocatively against his erection.

"Shut up," Xaldin said through gritted teeth.

Luxord chuckled, brushing his lips against the other's chest before rising to administer to Xaldin's needs. He tugged off both boots and carelessly chucked them over his shoulder, causing the Nobody to wince imperceptibly as they thumped on the floor. Completely oblivious to the other's reaction, Luxord surveyed Xaldin's body with a roguish grin and placed both hands on his captive's hips, effortlessly sliding his pants off and discarding them on the floor. His boxers soon followed, joining the disheveled heap of garments at the foot of the bed.

Lust commanding him, Luxord pressed himself against Xaldin, his mouth exploring the man's collarbone while his hands roamed free. He trailed his fingers up the Lancer's legs, caressing the insides of his thighs, running one thumb over his hipbone and tracing a pattern along his groin.

Finally unable to resist the teasing any longer, Xaldin growled in frustration, arching his hips up into Luxord's hand. "Luxord…"

"What?" the Brit asked in his most innocent voice, resting his hand on Xaldin's thigh, his thumb stroking small circles in a most un-innocent fashion.

Xaldin simply glowered at him wordlessly. Catching on, Luxord withdrew his hand and lifted himself up.  Xaldin opened his mouth to say something, then realized that, at some point, Luxord's coat had become unzipped and was now hanging loosely around his shoulders. With a strange curiosity to see more, Xaldin impulsively slid his hands up his torso to draw the coat off, exposing his bare chest. Luxord didn't seem to have any objection to the contact and sat back, watching the Lancer with a lazy grin to see what he would do next.

Xaldin sized him up, eyes sweeping over him. He had to admit, he was mildly surprised. Granted, Luxord wasn't half as brawny as he himself or Lexaeus was, but he was still a powerhouse. Striking muscles rippled under a wiry frame, flexing with each movement he made. Xaldin reached out to touch his stomach, fingers trailing over ripped abs and brushing against the soft hair that led down towards uncharted waters. Luxord shivered at the touch; Xaldin's fingers were cool, and the quiver broke the spell. The Lancer looked up at him through narrowed eyes and commanded, "I'd suggest that you get on with it and stop being a tease if you still want possession of all your limbs."

Luxord opened his mouth to speak but quickly snapped it shut when, out of the corner of his eye, he caught the glint of a particularly sharp lance hovering pointedly beside the bed. He greatly enjoyed his game of torment, but he wasn't so blinded that he couldn't see when his witticisms were best left unsaid. "Fair point," he conceded and leaned down to kiss Xaldin roughly, one hand snaking down to stroke him. Luxord ran one thumb over the tip of his head, fingers caressing his shaft.

The Lancer let out a groan at the contact, his hips rocking back and forth of their own volition. Encouraged, Luxord slid his hand down Xaldin's length, squeezing his fingers once before matching the other's pace with a quick, jerking tempo. While he kept in time with the rhythmic motion of Xaldin's hips, he nuzzled the other man's chest, his head slowly migrating south.

Xaldin had to chuckle slightly when Luxord's facial fuzz brushed against him on its way down, tickling the sensitive receptors in his skin. Of course, he knew it was coming, but he still inhaled sharply when Luxord's mouth enveloped him, flooding him with ecstasy. Just the sensation of the wet mouth taking him in was pleasure enough, but it was the way that Luxord proceeded to go down on him that really drove him crazy. Turned-on and rock-hard, he growled in frustration when the blond decided to slow down.

The Gambler ran his tongue leisurely up Xaldin's shaft, taking time to massage his balls gently before returning to the head of his cock. He swirled his tongue around its tip before sucking it, wrapping his arms around Xaldin's legs to pull his hips closer to him.

Breathing deeply, the dreadlocked Nobody let his eyes close and rolled his hips forward, thrusting feverously to heighten the intense sensation of being sucked off. Then Luxord shifted, and Xaldin could feel the other man's prominent arousal brush against his leg, and that combined with the way his tongue teasingly traced slow, steady circles around the head of his cock was nearly enough to send him over the top, and he thrust his hips forward, and fuck yes -

-Then, just before he was about to peak, Xaldin was deprived of his climax when Luxord decided to lift his head and sit back, licking his lips with a Cheshire-Cat-like grin on his face. The still-panting, livid Lancer glared at him, eyes boring holes into the blond's head.

"Luxord, if you don't finish me right now, you can forget about ever touching me for the rest of your artificial life," Xaldin snarled.

"Oh, we both know that that's not true, love." Luxord smirked, one hand trailing up Xaldin's leg, tracing a pattern on his inner thigh. "Because you just can't resist me." With that, he wrapped his fingers around him and gripped him in a decisive act of dominance. "And besides, I'm not going to let you finish without me." He nonchalantly, yet firmly, squeezed Xaldin's balls as a warning, letting him know that he was the one who was in control and could do so much more damage to his crown jewels if so inclined. "That's an order, mate, not a request."

Xaldin simply glowered at him. He was already on the brink of no return, and now he had to postpone his pleasure further? Preposterous, and maddening to boot. Mustering up his self-control, he took several deep breaths and tried to ignore his throbbing arousal. Instead, he leered at Luxord, redirecting his attentions. "My, my… rather demanding, aren't you? I think we're going to have to remedy this." He appraised Luxord: his coat was cast to the side, his pants unzipped, platinum blond hair peeking out, and his short, scruffy hair already wild with sex. "First object of business: pants off." Xaldin's broad hands were already at his waist, moving quickly and efficiently as he slid the Gambler's pants down his frame and tugged them off, where they joined the abandoned coats.

Luxord leaned back on his hands and smirked at the expression on Xaldin's face when he looked down at him.

"Fuck, Luxord." Apparently the risk-taker's piercings weren't limited to the double helixes and dangling earring on his ears: he also wielded a Prince Albert and an impressive Jacob's Ladder consisting of six barbells that pierced the entire underside of his shaft.

Luxord arched an eyebrow and asked suggestively, "You like?"

Xaldin responded by dominating him and pushing him up against the bed's headboard to acquaint himself personally with the metal. Experimenting, he ran his tongue up across each rung of the Ladder and tugged at the PA ring gently.

"That's a yes, I'd wager."

"Heh." Xaldin chuckled slightly. "Never had you pegged as such a deviant, Number X," he commented, smirking at him.

"What happens in Port Royal doesn't always stay in Port Royal. You'd be surprised at what a bottle or two of rum can accomplish," Luxord replied and laced his hands together behind his head, shifting to make himself more comfortable against the hard headboard.

Xaldin took in the sight of Luxord, beneath him, and grinned inwardly; he was going to make the Gambler pay for leaving him in the lurch, going to make him squirm until he begged. "You should go to Port Royal more often, then," he murmured into Luxord's ear, one hand trailing up and down his leg. He pressed against the blond, his mouth exploring the other's ear, tongue teasing at his piercings, and fingers massaging the inside of his thighs.

Luxord closed his eyes and turned his head away to give the rugged man greater access to his sensitive lobe. A moan escaped his lips – he was turned on beyond belief by the sensual way Xaldin was sucking and nipping at his earrings, and those tormenting fingers, touching everywhere but the one spot that begged it the most, made him harder than he already was, if that was even possible. It was payback, and he knew it.

"What's the matter? You can dish it out but can't take it?" Xaldin teased, pausing his mischief long enough to speak.

"I'm not used to having my own tricks played against me," Luxord confessed haltingly through gritted teeth, his breath shallow and needy.

Xaldin chuckled, pleased with the admission. As a reward, he abandoned Luxord's ear to travel south, attending to the more neglected parts of his body. He slipped one nipple into his mouth to suck at it, one hand tweaking the other one. Continuing his path with his mouth, he released his hand and encircled his arms around Luxord, drawing his body even closer. Lips brushed against his happy trail, stopping just short of his crotch, where Xaldin looked up and waited.

Luxord groaned, knowing what he wanted to hear. Ordinarily, he would have resisted, continuing the game and battling to be the victor, but at this point, all he could think about was the desire that was overwhelming him. He swallowed his pride, willing to concede this small point in order to achieve a greater end. "Please, Xaldin," he said, trying not to sound too much like he was begging.

Reveling in the way he had managed to bend the Gambler to his will, Xaldin obliged with a contented smirk. He licked the tip of his head, tongue pressing against the metal of Luxord's Prince Albert piercing in a sensation that made the other man squirm in pleasure. Xaldin paused to wet his fingers before slipping his mouth around the other's fully-hardened length, one hand keeping busy as it probed gently at Luxord's entrance. He slipped two fingers inside, causing his partner to swear uncharacteristically and arch into the contact.

Xaldin hummed in smug approval, reaching one hand up and slipping a finger into Luxord's hot mouth, which eagerly received it. The blond moaned and sucked on it erotically, his eyes closed and cheeks flushed slightly at the overwhelming sensation of – the gambling Brit couldn't think of a politer term in the heat of the moment – being fucked in the mouth, up the arse, and with Xaldin's own mouth all at once. He rolled his hips forward, urging Xaldin to continue. To his disappointment, the dreadlocked man withdrew his fingers, instead shifting and roughly grabbing Luxord's hips with both hands. He held him down, grinning sadistically as he decided to play with the succession of frenum piercings studding his shaft.

"Fuck-you-Xaldin!" Luxord hissed jarringly, wriggling in his grip. He needed contact now, and the way Xaldin was using his tongue to tease at the metal balls of his barbells was driving him positively mad.

"Oh, I am," Xaldin drawled in reply, his hand already reaching between his legs to stroke himself as he toyed with the uppermost rung of his partner's Jacob's Ladder. "The same time as I'm fucking you, as a matter of fact." When Xaldin sat back, Luxord made an involuntary noise of disappointment at the sudden lack of attention he'd been receiving down there. The larger man glanced at him with a look of amusement, rummaging in his nightstand for the lube that he knew he had thrown in there at some point or another in the past.

Luxord chuckled slightly when he caught on to Xaldin's intentions. He grinned perversely and reached for the bottle of lube, saying smoothly, "Allow me." All he earned for his trouble was a swat at his hands from Xaldin, who was suddenly above him once more, his face mere centimeters from Luxord's.

"I am this fucking close to coming right now thanks to you and your whole spiel earlier about making me wait for you, and you think I'm about to let you lube me up?" he all but snarled in Luxord's ear. "I don't think so." He pulled away and poured a generous amount of liquid into his hand, taking a twisted form of pleasure in watching Luxord squirm beneath him as he stroked his shaft languidly, careful not to overdo it and risk climaxing on the spot.

"Premature ejaculation issues?" Luxord offered, fully aware that he was going to be punished severely for the suggestion. True to form, Xaldin reacted with a growl and slammed himself into Luxord with much more force than necessary, burying himself to the hilt.

The Gambler chuckled even as he succumbed to the force, and Xaldin realized that the infuriating comment had been Luxord's little way of provoking him into doing what he wanted. Apparently, he was growing tired of the slow teasing and wanted it his way: harder and faster.

A smile curled Xaldin's lips. "You're a tricky bastard, Luxord." He eased in and out, hips rolling forward. "But you do realize that you're going to have to pay for that remark, right?"

Having lost some of his usual composure, Luxord was panting with effort, and Xaldin noticed that his short cropped hair was damp with sweat. The blond rallied and countered, "Of course. But it doesn't really matter, because once all the cards have been dealt, I'm still taking the jackpot."

Xaldin, who had given up on fully understanding the Gambler and his euphemisms eons ago, simply grunted in reply and focused his attention on the task at hand, which was to drive the other man out of his mind. Still kneeling on the bed, he pulled Luxord's pelvis closer to his own, deepening the penetration and causing Luxord to hiss and rock bath and forth to get the friction he desired. Xaldin's hips fell into a rhythm of their own, matching his partner's, and he couldn't help but let out a low groan himself.

Thrusting in and out, Xaldin took his torture another step farther when he wrapped his hand around Luxord's length, his thumb stroking in time with his thrusts, eliciting a keening moan from the Gambler. Xaldin took deep satisfaction at the fact that he was slick with precum and, quickening the movement of his hips, pumped him urgently, wanting to make Luxord cry out his name.

Luxord refused to give him the satisfaction of crying out submissively, but that didn't stop the noises he was making from slipping out in a stream of jumbled curses, moans, and sighs. "Unh… fuck, Xaldin, you bloody-just-ahh…" One last thrust and a particularly coaxing jerk of Xaldin's hand was all it took, and he came undone, arching as he rode out each wave of his climax, eyes clenched shut.

Xaldin, who had been waiting for this release ever since Luxord began his stupid little game, came almost instantaneously after the words left Luxord's lips. He moaned aloud, hips bucking feverishly, and bent double over the blond. He lost control entirely, and the wind under his command surged throughout the room, rattling the windows and howling unrestrainedly. Luxord's toes curled at the sudden gust of cool air and the Lancer's dreadlocks blew every which way, and then, as quickly as it had began, the wind died down, reduced to a gentle breeze.

Xaldin, who had all but collapsed on top of Luxord, lay there for a few moments to regain his breath before pulling out of the Gambler and rolling off of him. Both men were still reeling, neither one of them speaking until Luxord, having recovered somewhat, pressed up against Xaldin's back and wrapped his arms around him.

The Lancer, still exhausted and desperately in need of sleep, moaned, "What, haven't you had enough already? I thought the whole point of this vacation was to relax. So when am I going to get to do that?"

"Soon. But, you know, I did win this little game of pursuit." Luxord walked his fingers down Xaldin's arm.

"Wonderful. Congratulations."

"Which means I should get a congratulatory kiss, eh?"

Xaldin opened his eyes and stared at Luxord, who was looking at him expectantly. "And then can I get some rest, dammit?"

"But of course. When have I ever prevented you from doing so?"

Xaldin rolled his eyes and counted to ten before resigning, since he knew the persistent Nobody wouldn't let him be until he agreed to his terms. He pulled Luxord into his arms and bowed his head to touch his, black crown meeting blond. Piercing violet eyes locked with deep blue ones before Xaldin broke the spell by leaning in to give him his celebratory kiss. Luxord returned it with fervor. Worming his hands free, the Gambler reached up and wound his hands in Xaldin's dreadlocks, tugging him closer for an even deeper kiss.

It was a slow, intimate kiss. A real one. There was something about it that set it apart from the wild, rough kisses they had shared in the lust of sex. It was separate from the simple action-reaction, impatient war they had engaged in, tangling themselves into a frantic mess of limbs. Lips melted into lips, and it was almost tender, if such a word could be applied to the two men.

When Xaldin finally pulled back, he didn't know just how long they had been kissing for, as each hungry act of desire mingled with lust caused both of them to lose track of the time. He found himself practically on top of Luxord, having apparently shifted his weight at some point during the passionate kiss. He rolled over to lay flat on his back but found himself a little too close to the side of the bed for comfort. One arm instinctively lashed out, grabbing for purchase, but the man realized seconds too late that the lance he had used to threaten the Gambler earlier was still in position. The blade sliced into his skin and he swore, blood oozing out of the incision. What had seemed like a good idea then seemed idiotic in retrospect, and now he was paying for it. Painfully.

The smug, post-coital expression on Luxord's face vanished, and Xaldin couldn't precisely identify the look that replaced it – was that worry?

"Bloody hell…" Luxord muttered, grabbing Xaldin's hand to look at the cut. "Shit, Xaldin."  The metal had carved open his entire palm, slicing vertically across his wrist up to his fingertips. "Go see Vexen later. He'll be able to provide you with some form of analgesic, I'm sure…" He tried to stem the flow of blood using a sheet, the closest dressing he could reach, red blossoms budding on the stark white fabric. When he looked up at the injured man, he found the Lancer watching him with an amused look on his face.

"Worried about me? Funny. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you loved me."

Reasonably satisfied that Xaldin wasn't about to kick the bucket, Luxord left him well alone. "What if I said that I did?" It was more of a statement than a question, and the Gambler met the other's eyes with a slightly challenging glimmer in his eyes.

"Then I'd say that you're a fool," Xaldin replied. The words were blunt, but not malicious. "You have no heart to love with, and nor do I."

"That might be so," Luxord conceded. "But you forget what makes us higher-level Nobodies special. We can remember our pasts. I remember what it was like to love. Even if it's merely a ghost of the past, I can say in all honesty that, right now, it simply feels right. "

Xaldin answered stoically, "To hold something dear is to let it hold you, Luxord. Being pinned down by feelings is a sign of weakness."

"Yet you acquiesced to let me hold you," Luxord retorted, and Xaldin fell silent at the jibe. The blond sighed and rubbed his thin beard, searching for the words to continue. "We strive daily to regain our hearts. That is the mission of the Organization, incontestably. Yet, despite lacking hearts ourselves, we are not completely devoid of emotions because of our histories and the memories that remain. Love is not unattainable."

Xaldin gave him an impassive look. "It's pretend. You cannot feel; you know that."

"Then let me pretend." Luxord met his eyes unflinchingly, his tone defiant.

Xaldin was the first to break eye contact. "…Hmph." He turned over in the bed and pulled the sheet over him, unconscious of the streak of blood that the still-smarting wound left on it. After a moment, he felt Luxord lay down beside him as well, his weight settling down comfortably on the mattress.  

He was left alone to silently ponder Luxord's words. Love was a curious emotion, one that he, a Nobody, scorned. It made humans weak, pitiful, dependent on another for their happiness. And yet… he couldn't help but reflect on the years before he, and the rest of the apprentices, were swallowed by darkness. When he was a Somebody, not a Nobody. Dilan may have been strong and relatively down-to-earth, but he'd had a heart, and as such, was no stranger to love. And when he recalled what it was like to love another being, he could almost feel the warmth that such an emotion brings spread within him. Perhaps the Gambler of Fate had a point there.

Xaldin turned over in order to say something to him, apologize perhaps, only to find that Luxord had all but conked out, sprawled uncharacteristically across the bed in a most undignified fashion. One arm was flung above his head and his mouth was hanging open shamelessly. You wouldn't have expected it from the cool, enigmatic gentleman, but he was most vulnerable and uninhibited in his sleep. Xaldin had to smile and scooted across the bed so that he was beside him once more. He settled down and let his eyes drift shut himself…

Only to be jolted into reality by a sudden, loud bang and a commotion that filled the corridors. He could hear screams coming from somewhere off in the distance and wondered how on earth Luxord could sleep through the clamor. He tried to cover his ears and block out the noise, but the loud voices filtered through.

"Xiggy, if you don't give me those trunks back, I'm going to drown you in your sleep, I swear!"

"Ah, but you look so good when you're not in them!"

"What's going on out – good grief, Demyx! Put some pants on before you blind everyone in the castle!"

"Hey, it's not my fault, blame him!" came a petulant whine.

"Well, if you insist on prancing around naked, kindly go do it somewhere else so that I can work on my experiments in peace!"

An additional seductive voice joined the fray. "Mm, I can experiment on you if you'd like…"

"What are you say-?!" His exclamation was cut short by a shrill yelp. "Number XI!"

"You know, Vexen, next time you're coming with us, whether you like it or not." Another lilting voice, female this time.

"…Can someone please explain why the hell there's a dancing crab in my bed?"

Another loud bang resounded, presumably from a door being slammed open, and a seventh voice shouted irritably, "If you wouldn't mind, there are some people in this castle who would prefer to have some peace and quiet for once!"

"Too bad, you had the whole day to yourselves for your 'peace and quiet.' Haven't you had enough sex yet, or do you still need more time?"

"Wait--that's not what I--stop laughing!"

Xaldin closed his eyes, burrowing further under the covers to tune out the noise. Maybe it was all right to pretend. Maybe someday, they would regain their hearts and be able to truly and finally exist, to be able to enjoy the luxuries of the heart. But for now… he could learn to be satisfied with the illusion. He faced the sleeping man beside him, who was now snoring, and allowed a smile to cross his lips. Perhaps this vacation was just what he needed.