At The Opera Tonight

“Come oooooon~ Pleeeeeaaaaaase?”

Xigbar winces at the pleading, casting a wary glance to the younger male. Puppy dog eyes greet him, hands clasped together hopefully. Damn, how did he get himself into this? Oh, yeah, by saying that this is his day.

There’s an aggravated groan as the Freeshooter holds out his arm. Demyx immediately latches on, giving a giddy sound of joy as he drags his boyfriend off. They have a date to an opera. Something silly sounding, about genetics. Or something like that. Either way, Xigbar doesn’t really want to go, but… Well, he promised Demyx.

“You’re gonna love this, Xig! You won’t regret this!” the eager Nocturne says, dragging the older male into the portal to head off. Said man just rolls his eyes, trying not to show how he doesn’t believe this.

~*~

A few hours later, the two walk out of the movie theater—for they’d not gone to an actual opera, but the movie version of a rock opera—with Xigbar’s earlier protests long out of mind. His tune had changed the moment he’d gotten there.

“Duuuuuuude. That… That was…!” Xigbar says, shaking his head in disbelief. Those tunes, so catchy. And Demyx is even more excited than the Freeshooter.

“I told you! Isn’t Repo just amazing!?” he asks, nearly bouncing on their way to the park. Xigbar just laughs, resting his hands behind his head as they walk. A nice, relaxing walk…

Once at the park, they both plop down on the bench, rapidly chit-chatting about the movie. Repo! The Genetic Opera. A bit slow at first, but, well, when it picks up… Just, wow.

“Man, that Nathan dude was cool. Reminded me a biiit too much of a certain someone, though.” Xigbar comments, chuckling as he imagines Xehanort, the one of the past, sitting there dressed as a dorky doctor. Hell, even with the obsession with Rise—he shudders at the memory of the goddamn dolls—it fits.

A sudden snicker from Demyx, hand going over his mouth. Xigbar raises a brow, wondering what he’s laughing about. There are a few moments of fighting over the giggles, before he finally manages to speak.

“Zexion’s Blind Mag.”

This one statement sends both of them into a fit of laughter, imagining Zexion, of all people, in all of the beautiful, intricate, and downright girly outfits the character of Blind Mag had worn. It’s just far too amusing.

Finally, the laughter dies down, and the two go quiet. They sit there, just enjoying each other’s company.

“…We need to do this kinda stuff more often, little dude.” Xigbar finally says, glancing over to his partner. Demyx is blushing lightly, fidgeting just a tad.

“Yeah… We do…” he mutters quietly.

He sits up straight, suddenly, as Xig leans over and kisses his cheek. The slight blush is now bright, bright red, very apparent in the moonlight. A chuckle escapes the Freeshooter.

“Way more often. This weekend good?”

“Y-Yeah. It’s g-great.”

Demyx’s voice is high-pitched, a squeak, from the strange shift. Xig only shakes his head, standing and patting the boy on the head before just vanishing in his totally awesome, space-controlling way.