Entry tags:

!gift/request, ch: xemnas, ch: xigbar, ch: zexion, f: kingdom hearts, p: xemnas/zexion

Veritas [KH - Xemnas x Zexion]
I swear the next thing I finish will be neither slash, nor smut, nor Zexion. XD

Fandom: Kingdom Hearts
Summary: Old betrayals are not easily forgotten, and Zexion finds his usual tactics relatively useless when trying to convince Xemnas otherwise.
Pairing: Xemnas x Zexion
Word Count: 2400
Rating: R
Notes: For kazaera.
Warnings: Yes. Sex. Mild bondage. Nothing that should actually squick, though. Also, gratuitous Xigbar.

 

Xemnas is nowhere to be found.

This is hardly a new occurrence – Xemnas has never seen fit to inform his subordinates, even those closest to him, of his comings and goings – but it is becoming increasingly alarming. Although Xemnas is far from sane (they all realize this), his madness has always seemed like philosophical eccentricity, the burden of a visionary blinded by his own light. Perhaps they are fools to cling to him and his delusions, but they would otherwise be lost.

Still, they have only ever brushed against the edges of his genius-turned-madness, held at arms length as if their involvement in the Organization is only incidental. Zexion has never protested the setup, but he does watch, and he has recently come to suspect that Xemnas is now moving beyond where they can follow.

When he first tries to locate Xemnas, he finds nothing.  This comes as no shock, and he forces away the memory of concern and returns to his work.

His second try fails as well. Unbidden, a memory from another life comes to his mind: Xehanort in Radiant Garden, too caught up in staring at the sky to sleep at night. (Ienzo had tried to convince him to come inside, but Xehanort only laughed quietly and gestured towards the stars. “When events of such importance are underway out here?” the older man had asked disbelievingly, and Ienzo had then realized that he was watching as the stars died.)

On the third attempt, he instead finds Xigbar stalking through the hallways. At first, he expects that this will delay things considerably, but the Freeshooter only quirks an eyebrow and says, his tone uncharacteristically solemn, “You shouldn’t have too much trouble getting a hold of him today.”

He is not surprised to learn that Xigbar has been watching him; it is one of many hobbies the Freeshooter indulges in instead of actually doing work. “You’ve seen him, then?” Zexion asks with nonchalance he can’t pretend he’s actually feeling.

“Yeah. Unfortunately,” Xigbar grimaces. “Remember how quiet Xehanort used to get right before he’d go crazy about something?”

“I do,” Zexion replies simply. It was once a common enough occurrence.

“Well…” Xigbar momentarily looks as if he wants to say something more, but then he shakes his head and laughs, “Just be careful. He isn’t going to be in the mood for one of your games today.” With those final words and a casual wave of his hand, Xigbar disappears. Unaccustomed to such restraint, Zexion is left staring into now empty space, reconsidering exactly what other options are available to him.

He has never sought to play his typical games of intrigue with Xemnas. The Superior makes his own rules, redefining the impossible as if on a whim. Zexion knows where his normal ploys are largely useless, and does not appreciate wasted effort. There are no more weaknesses left to manipulate that Ienzo did not once, a lifetime ago, attempt to exploit. Zexion remembers how poorly that went the first time around, and is loath to risk another catastrophe.

He finally finds Xemnas secluded in his own chambers, staring vaguely into an ornate bowl filled with water. The Superior shows no sign of having noticed his arrival, seemingly entranced by the clear liquid. This particular quirk is one with which Zexion is quite familiar, and so he simply waits to the side, arms crossed, idly wondering from which world the artefact originates.

“Zexion,” Xemnas finally addresses him, though his attention never wavers from the bowl. “Such a simple design, isn’t it? Two hydrogen atoms, one oxygen. Unthinkable that one could conceive of something so sensible and yet create a reality so flawed.” His tone is mild, yet he still seems still somehow affronted.

“It is hardly my area of expertise,” Zexion replies cautiously. He has no interest in theology – too many unknowable factors, too little applicability – and is none too pleased to find Xemnas dwelling upon it. He recognizes and practically reveres the man’s broader vision, but suspects that such wild theorizing will do the Organization little good.

Xemnas suddenly turns to him and smiles, a vague, meaningless expression that doesn’t quite reach his eyes (they’re Nobodies, of course, but Zexion remembers seeing the same puzzling smile on Xehanort’s face). “Of course not,” Xemnas replies quietly, significantly, as if those three words hold the key to all their problems.

“You have always been too interested in insignificant detail,” Xemnas continues thoughtfully, as if he has forgotten that attention to detail is the only reason his higher plans are ever put into action.  “The details can do nothing but hide reality. Still, I suppose you are capable of little more, Cloaked Schemer.”

Zexion says nothing; he has never understood Xemnas’s mind enough to know how to manipulate it. The man’s madness draws him and fascinates him, but has always left him uncertain of where he stands. Zexion wonders if these conversations are perhaps a sign of masochism on his part, if all that remains of Ienzo is this desperate need to understand.

“We are going to have enemies,” Xemnas comments suddenly, his attention shifting again to the bowl of water. His words are so detached that Zexion briefly wonders if he misunderstood. “Some anticipated, others… not.”

Zexion observes how Xemnas is no longer quite looking at him, and ponders the words left unsaid. The subtext is obvious, horrifyingly so. It shouldn’t surprise him, not after everything that they – but not quite them, their Others – did, and yet this is a possibility he never foresaw.

His mind is spinning, pieces of the puzzle that is the Superior’s recent distance falling into place, and he does what he can to buy time. “Nothing about which we need to worry overmuch,” he comments dismissively. It is not quite true – Xehanort’s Heartless has been on his mind more often than he would care to admit – but in theory, they still have every advantage. “If we are cautious, we can easily remain many moves ahead of any opposition.”

“Indeed. You are watching everything too closely, I imagine, carefully choosing your strategies,” Xemnas agrees, only the barest hint of a stress upon the word ‘everything.’ All the same, Zexion cannot help but recall Xigbar and his various excursions into eavesdropping.

Zexion nods slightly; this is a game that the Schemer knows how to play. It is a new challenge all the same: Zexion has long practice in preying upon a person’s insecurities and tearing a mind apart; he has seldom attempted the reverse.

“You know more about Nobodies than any of us,” he reminds Xemnas easily. Metaphysically, at least, it is even true. “As you said, keeping track of details is in my nature.” He could say more, but he knows better than to push too hard. Xemnas will reach his own conclusions, and given the man’s egocentrism, most likely the correct ones.

“I do not care for much of what I have been seeing lately,” he continues, smoothly shifting between topics. “Some of the newer members…” He had planned to keep such suspicions to himself, at least until he had more information on the matter, but he sees that there is no alternative. If Xemnas is determined to expect betrayal, then Zexion would prefer that he direct his attention elsewhere. “Axel is opportunistic. Marluxia, after his initial arrogance and uncooperativeness, has too quickly become… willing to serve.”

Xemnas gazes at him with sudden interest. “Number XI is eager to prove himself,” he counters thoughtfully.

“Number XI is eager to get close to you,” Zexion states bluntly. “For his own benefit, not for the Organization,” His expertise in such matters has never before been challenged, and he is ill pleased to find Xemnas now doubting him. The Superior’s vision and brilliance is unsurpassed, but the Organization also requires skills that he alone does not possess. Almost as if it were an afterthought, Zexion shrugs and adds, “Without a shared foundation of memories their loyalty cannot be assured. They do not all worship you as Saïx does.” As we do.

Xemnas briefly feigns amusement, “I would not have expected such sentimentality from you, Zexion.”

“It is not sentimentality as much as fact,” Zexion responds dryly, reminding himself that his sudden irritation is not real.

The Superior falls silent and turns away. He spends a long moment staring into the distance, and Zexion wonders idly what reality he’s seeing. “I once came across an interesting fact,” Xemnas begins, his tone deceptively mild. “Apparently the loyalty of those who have once committed treason can never again be trusted.”

“Those men are all dead.” Xemnas has apparently tired of the game, and the time for subtlety is over.  “In any case, none of them ever desired a throne. They needed to be led. As do we,” Zexion reminds him quietly, unfolding his arms and finally moving closer.

“Xemnas, you are not Xehanort. You are not bound to the same mistakes that he was.” It is a claim he would willingly dispute – Xehanort was always driven by far more than simple emotion – but it does not suit his purposes to disillusion Xemnas now, or likely ever. “We are not the same either. Too much has been lost, and what remains is tied to you irrevocably.”

He does not expect the words to work; the man is far too gone and logic no longer has any hold over him. Words are too simple, their meanings too easily twisted. Zexion knows how masterfully they can be used to deceive, to conceal, to shatter a mind. Language can only ever brush against the edges of truth.

He does not expect the words to work, but if they can present an opportunity, he is prepared to do the rest.

Xemnas is suddenly brushing a hand carelessly across his cheek. “Sincerity does not become you, Cloaked Schemer. All you are is a lie.”

Zexion leans ever so slightly into his touch, the motion at once an acceptance and an offer. Ienzo would never have considered such a tactic; Zexion does not think twice about it.

Xemnas’s hand twists smoothly to the side, pushing the curtain of hair out of his face; Zexion feels strangely vulnerable without it. For a long moment, Xemnas simply stares at him, and Zexion cannot begin to guess at what calculations are going on behind that mask of passive insanity. When Xemnas finally speaks, his voice is soft, calm, but undoubtedly a command: “Undress.”

Organization robes slip to the floor, and Zexion sighs as Xemnas trails fingers lightly – possessively – down his chest, across his hip.

Zexion is no stranger to sex. He has often found that it, like words and illusions, can be used as a powerful weapon. People are careless, allowing a lifetime’s worth of walls and barriers to topple in a single moment of pleasure. He has seen how little people – and sometimes Nobodies as well – are able to conceal at such times, and disdains them for that weakness even as he takes advantage of it.

He offers no resistance when the Superior pushes him against the bed, hands still patiently roaming across his body. Zexion has always been able to find power in perceived submission, and watching Xemnas through half closed eyes, he tries to convince himself that this is no different.

It is, of course. Always in the past Zexion has maintained control, showing only what he chose to, revealing nothing real. That won’t be enough this time; nothing short of complete surrender will convince Xemnas.

He wonders if he’s capable of it.

When Xemnas pulls his arms over his head and begins to fasten them there, his eyes shoot open. Xemnas goes suddenly still, his grip on Zexion’s wrists unyielding, and raises an eyebrow. “Are you only willing to take this so far?” he asks, his voice deceptively calm.

Zexion laughs softly, his eyes again fluttering shut, “Hardly.” If he can trust Xemnas with the Organization, he can trust him with this.

Xemnas settles down beside him on the bed, quickly finishing with the restraints and returning to his ministrations. He has always metaphorically been the centre of their world, but now, moaning softly as the man touches him, enough to arouse but not to satisfy, Zexion finds that this has literally become the truth as well. Twisting in his bonds, he presses himself almost hungrily against Xemnas, demanding more, transparent and, for once, not caring.

“Your show of subservience is not convincing, Number VI,” the Superior comments, running a hand across Zexion’s stomach and between his thighs.

Zexion doesn’t shift away; it is not quite subservience that he is eager to demonstrate. “If you wanted mindless obedience,” he gasps out, a touch of irritability in his voice, “you should have asked Saïx to your bed.”

“Would you prefer that?” Xemnas asks, his hands stilling in their activity.

“Don’t… be ridiculous,” he manages.

Xemnas pulls away suddenly, and Zexion glances up, annoyed at the delay. A word of protest dies on his lips, however, when he sees that Xemnas is finally – finally – undressing himself. The Superior notices the attention, and proceeds to take an inordinate amount of time at his task. “If I were an enemy, Xemnas,” Zexion finally comments, still watching him closely, “I would be able to take advantage of this type of behaviour.”

Xemnas finally finishes and moves back towards him. “Do you plan to, Zexion?” he asks mildly.

Zexion is tired of the man’s paranoia and his inability to see criticism as anything but a challenge. “If I did, I wouldn’t have said it,” he points out. He gasps softly, hands twisting in their restraints, as Xemnas forces his thighs apart and surges on top of him, inside of him. He moves, his pace steady, unrelenting, rife with promise and power, and Zexion breathes his name, the word a prayer.

Xemnas takes his time, and when he is finished, he stares at the younger man for a long moment, expression unreadable, before unbinding him and handing him his clothing. “I will put Number XI in command of the new headquarters,” Xemnas finally says. “Since you doubt his loyalty, you will accompany him and keep careful watch over him.”

Dressing, Zexion nods slightly and resolves to re-examine the experience later at length. He cannot tell whether he is being entrusted with an important mission or being sent away. For the first time in memory, Zexion doesn’t know if he has won or lost, and the lack of certainty unsettles him.

End Notes: So I thought at first that Zexion actually was going to be fully submissive. But… um, apparently not. Anyway, when it comes down to it, Zexion probably would be the most dangerous potential challenger to Xemnas, because not only is he frighteningly intelligent, but also apparently charismatic enough that at least three other members (II, IV, V) seem to gravitate towards him at least a bit. Also, the dynamic between someone visionary enough to have an incredible goals and someone subtle enough to pull them off? So interesting.