Written at around one 'o clock in the morning and was inspired by both the song Passenger Seat by Death Cab for Cutie, and the fanfic The Renegades (found on livejournal; link is in my profile for those interested. For those even MORE interested in it, silvestris on deviantART does some amazing fanart for it, along with some great MarVex fanart).

Description: Vexen knows the exact reason why he comes every single time he is asked to...Just as he knows that Marluxia wants him there to be more than a designated driver.

Rating: T, for alcohol references, but that's it. Not even swearing this time. Jeez.

Disclaimer: I wish.

EDIT: Sorry if this sends everyone an alert, but I noticed I forgot the description! Xx Sorry again!

Of course, he's in a bar again. Of course, Marluxia is plastered again.

And of course, Vexen is being ignored. Again.

Marluxia is known to be somewhat of a social drunk when he's intoxicated. He slams down as much alcohol as he can manage, then finds a group that has the potential to give him infinite attention. Once he bores of them, he floats on imagined wings over to the next group of people who will entertain him for the remainder of the evening.

Times like these, Vexen wonders why he even bothers.
A girl giggles as Marluxia bats his long eyelashes at her; flirting while he spins fantastically fabricated stories to complete strangers.

This is when he realizes that he's just fooling himself.
Marluxia gestures wildly in the air as he lies about how much he can drink.

Vexen knows the exact reason why he comes every single time he is asked to.
Marluxia's eyes narrow at a boy from the group who decided to challenge his well thought out story.

Just as he knows that Marluxia wants him there to be more than a designated driver.

He seems like he is going through with the dare before a lopsided grin graces his face and waves the boy off as if he was too high and mighty to be challenged. Vexen sighs, and a ghost of a smile flickers across his face. He knows exactly how much Marluxia can drink, and knows he's almost at his limit. He looks down at the beer he's been nursing for the past hour and a half. Only a few sips gone, as you can't exactly walk in a dimly lit bar and not order a drink, and after all, he would be driving tonight.

As if triggered by that thought, Marluxia waves his friends-for-the-night goodbye and slowly stumbles over to Vexen's tucked away table. He nods and Vexen fishes the keys out of his pocket.

Once they reach the parking lot, Vexen hits the power locks and Marluxia crashes into the seat. When settled in, he sighs and looks over at his friend, exhausted.

"Pretending to enjoy others' company is hard work," he says.

"Maybe you shouldn't have had so many drinks," Vexen smirks as he starts the engine. "You know they make you even less social than usual."

Marluxia smirks.

"Hell, it's not like I was buying. I even won some cash from beer pong."

"You practically cheated."

"Hey, it was their fault for getting smashed before we played for keeps," Marluxia grins like a Cheshire cat, then yawns.

"Get some sleep. We're going to be on the road for a while," Vexen tells his friend. He picked a dive out in the middle of nowhere this time, and it took almost three hours to get here.

Marluxia tilts the seat as far back as it can go and Vexen watches as his eyes slowly close.

'He's so peaceful after these little field trips,' Vexen muses.

Marluxia and Vexen have an unwritten agreement. Marluxia, the botanist, supplies his roommate and scientist, Vexen, with an unlimited supply of whatever he may need from his infinite gardens. In return, Vexen takes him out to bars in the nooks and crannies of towns far and wide. They both swore on their lives that nothing that happened on these trips would reach anyone else's ears but their own and so far, has been honored.

After the first few times, Vexen started noticing his roommate for the first time. He wasn't the vain, pink haired ditz he normally lived with. He was someone who needed to break away from the daily routine every now and then to become someone else in a dark bar, where the townspeople know nothing but what he tells them. But these aren't the only times he notices him.

It's also the time after: the car ride home.

Marluxia stirs and Vexen looks over. His eyes are half-open, looking up at the starry night from the convertible. His eyes widen a fraction and gasps when he spies a shooting star.

A moment later, it's quiet again.

The silence is broken when Vexen hears Marluxia's drowsy and slurred voice from the passenger seat.

"Do they ever collide?" he asks, still looking up at the stars, enthralled.

Vexen smiles.

Yes, Marluxia is known to be a social drunk, but only Vexen knows the truth.