Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Not Now, Not Ever ❯ Nightmare ( Chapter 6 )

Disclaimer: Weiss is not mine. *tear*

This is a work of fanfiction and is not for profit.

 

Pairing: Aya/Yohji

 

Rating: NC-17 for language and citrus

 

A/N: So, really this is more like Chapter 5: Part 2. But, for arguments sake, let's just call it Chapter 6, ne? KD, RQ, Mai, thanks for the help, I really needed it! And, as always, thank you Marasmine, for betaing!

 

Chapter 6

 

Yohji woke a short time later, Aya's incongruous warmth at his back trying to stave off the cold he felt within. He'd been craving this for as long as he'd known the man whose arm was now draped (`comfortingly? possessively?') over his torso. He'd been praying for this, always a glutton for human comfort. Nothing kept nightmares at bay like a warm body, could anchor him like a hand to hold, could brighten the dark like a casual touch or loving caress. All of these things he'd wanted from Aya. It was so tempting to just snuggle back against him and let oblivion claim him again. But, he respected Aya and refused to take advantage. Even in sleep he could feel the censure radiating off of his stoic leader. He feared that if he rolled over, a frown would mar the gorgeous features that no artist could have rendered.

 

Yohji felt the pieces starting to fit together. `This is it. This is the fucking mission. Project: Balinese. I wonder who Aya pissed off to get saddled with this assignment.' He sighed inwardly wishing he'd had the courage to end things so many times before. There really was nothing left. Aya, who let a little more of Ran shine through each day, had Aya-chan. Ken had Omi. They didn't need him. None of them needed or wanted an older brother to watch over them anymore. They were all adults now and he was proud of his little family. They were looking after each other now and he was pleased to see it. `Yeah, it's just beautiful. Then why do I feel like shit? Oh, that's right. Because they have one another and I have . . .? What is it I have again? Oh, I remember! Nothing!' Who knew his inner voice was so sarcastic?

 

He sighed aloud this time. Aya shifted a bit and Yohji froze. He let out his breath very slowly once his friend (`yeah right') stilled. He wanted to look, to see Aya's face in repose. Would the disapproving frown really be there? Or would his features be smooth and peaceful. `Just one last look. I won't stay here and be a burden. It was one thing to wallow in self-pity at home, but now I've dragged Aya away from his life, his sister and I can't do that. He deserves better. Besides, if anyone would understand, it'd be Aya. We pulled him back from the brink enough times before Aya-chan woke up. He's known hopelessness. He'll be able to explain it to the others. One last look…'

 

He started to twist his head around when pain lanced through his neck. He couldn't stop the hiss that escaped him at the unexpected agony. Aya came awake instantly, pushing up on the arm that wasn't resting on Yohji to look down at him. `Aya looking down on you. Nothing new there,' was his last, uncharitable, bitter thought before fresh pain asserted itself. He groaned a little this time.

 

“Yohji, what is it?”

 

`Was that concern in his voice? Ha, don't be ridiculous Kudoh. He's on a mission, remember? He'll perform his task to perfection, like any other mission.'

 

“It's nothing, just a little pain in the neck.” He tried to laugh. He really did. It's just that it hurt, so he stopped. He brought a hand to his throat to inspect the damage when his wrist was caught.

 

“Don't touch. I should have tended this before I fell asleep. I'm sorry. Stay here, I'll get the kit.”

 

Aya was off the bed and halfway to the bathroom before Yohji moved. Aya had apologized and sounded a little worried. The blonde still couldn't remember injuring his neck and was finding it increasingly disturbing considering his surroundings. He felt panic rising like bile in his throat. Villa Weiss was quickly becoming synonymous with neck injury.

 

He needed to see.

 

He walked up behind the redhead as he rooted through the contents of the medicine cabinet. Gauze, tape, and a small pair of scissors were already in one hand. He was just grabbing the peroxide when his teammate walked in.

 

“I thought I told you to stay there?”

 

Yohji squinted again harsh fluorescence. “I needed to see. What happened? I can't remember.” He peered into the mirror when Aya closed the cabinet door. His breath caught as he surveyed the damage. He looked at his hands and revised his query. “What did I do?”

 

Aya followed Yohji's gaze to his strong, wire wielding hands. There was skin and dried blood under his nails. Aya felt a sharp, bright pang of compassion for Yohji. Again the urge to just gather the man to him hit like a tidal wave. He wanted to apologize. To tell him that he'd never have to suffer nightmares like that again. To promise that nothing else would hurt him. To swear he wouldn't allow him to hurt himself anymore.

 

But those were promises he couldn't make. Or hope to keep. And, even if he tried, Yohji wouldn't believe him. Yohji trusted Aya with his life, not his heart. And even that amount of trust didn't seem like much of compliment anymore, considering what little value the baka placed on his own life these days.

 

Aya looked up into the gem-green eyes he'd nearly lost himself in so many times. There was no small amount of fear there and a precious small amount of life. The fear was partly of himself. Yohji knew this damage to be self-inflicted, but still couldn't recall the circumstance. But, if truth were told, there was fear of Aya, too. Fear of the way he was looking at him right now. Fear of starting to feel again.

 

Fear of hope.

 

Aya swallowed the lump in his throat, determined to start allaying those fears. He could see, at that moment, all of the things Yohji was afraid to reveal, even to himself. He read each of the man's worries and took note. He would systematically put each one to rest until he had his friend back. He was pleased to find that he hadn't lost his ability to see past the barriers his fellow assassin tried to erect.

 

“Aya?” His slightly shorter companion had been just staring into his eyes for a full minute. Yohji was unable to break the gaze, but was starting to squirm under the scrutiny. Gods, but he could drown in those amethyst pools. `Drown is right for you'd surely die if Aya knew half of what you were just thinking, Kudoh,' he silently berated himself.

 

Aya shook his head to clear it. “Sorry, I was thinking of something else.” Well, it was only a half lie. He had been thinking of things other than Yohji's question. He motioned for Yohji to sit on the closed toilet lid. He grabbed a washcloth, soaked it in warm water and applied a liberal amount of soap. “It was a nightmare. A fairly vivid one by the looks of it.”

 

Memory washed over Yohji, clear and cold. “Flashback.”

 

“What's that?”

 

“Flashback,” he repeated. “It was more like a flashback than a nightmare. It felt real. I could feel my own wire biting into my neck all over again. I could hear her laughing at what I fool I was, the fool I still am. I could feel my . . .” `heart breaking.' But Aya didn't need to know that.

 

He shivered with the chill of the memory and became acutely aware of being clad only in his underwear. He reached out for the washcloth, but Aya snatched it back. One fine-boned hand tilted Yohji's chin up as his leader began to gently wash his neck. The warmth of the water was a welcome alternative to the bone deep cold he felt. He let his eyes drift closed and lost himself in the darker corners of his mind for a while.

 

His eyes flew open at the first touch of peroxide. “Sorry,” Aya murmured. “Have to be sure they're clean. A couple are pretty deep.”

 

For his part, Yohji was trying to ignore the fact that the man he'd wanted for over a year was touching him. That said man was also clad only in boxers. And that the coolness of the late summer night had stiffened that same man's nipples into perfectly lickable little peaks.

 

`Oh, yeah. You'd so be a dead man if he knew what you were thinking.' He couldn't help but smile at that thought. Perhaps, a little of the old playboy was left in him after all. That thought earned a little snort.

 

Aya stood back after smoothing the last of the tape on the bandages. He cocked his head adorably and graced Yohji with the hint of a smile. “And what, pray tell, about me bandaging your neck is so amusing?”

 

He answered with a leer. He hadn't had an honest-to-goodness leer on his face in a very, very long time. It came back easily. It felt nice. It made the lascivious look on his face a little more wicked.

 

Aya's eyes went wide for a moment. Then, his own smile grew. He looked oddly pleased. Confused a bit, Yohji raised a brow. “What?”

 

“Nothing, it's just that this is the first time in months that you've looked… well... like you.” And with that he was out the door.

 

Yohji stared after him for a moment. So, Aya had noticed his behavior? And, judging by his smile, which still only appeared on special occasions, he missed the way Yohji used to be. Hmmm. This could be interesting.

 

`File that little piece of information away for future exploitation, I mean, exploration.' Yeah, so he was a little giddy. Aya's smile could do that to him.

 

Yohji finished tidying the bathroom and padded back to his room. His lack of sleep was starting to catch up with him. He closed the door, effectively plunging the room into darkness. The painkillers were working and he felt like he could sleep for a month. He flopped gracelessly onto the bed and nearly hit the ceiling when he was met with an undignified “oomph!”

 

“What the hell?!” Both men yelled simultaneously.

 

“Damn it, Kudoh. You really are too bony. That's going to leave a mark.”

 

“What the fuck are you doing here, Aya?”

 

Aya drew air deep into his lungs. He knew he'd been taking a chance in returning, uninvited, to Yohji's bed. But, he was determined to make the man realize that he wasn't alone and never had to be again if he didn't want to be. He figured now to be as good a time to start as any. Unfortunately, Yohji didn't seem too happy with his presence here. He felt a guilty blush creeping onto his cheeks. He hadn't given much thought as to how he could smooth things over in the face of an adverse reaction. Yohji was shielding his heart, hiding his fear behind anger. He could work around this. If the leer in the bathroom was any indication, his presence wasn't really that unwelcome.

 

“I was comfortable and warm before you woke up. So were you. Come back to bed.” Yep. When all else fails, make it command. Yohji will never defy his leader.

 

“Wouldn't you rather be in your own room, in your own bed, alone?” Yohji didn't sound angry now. Now, he sounded unsure and maybe a little hopeful. At least, he did to the practiced ear. To the uninitiated he still sounded pretty pissed.

 

“No.”

 

“No?”

 

“No. Come back to bed. It's getting cold in here and you've got to be freezing. You're shivering.”

 

Yohji was trembling, but it had nothing to do with temperature. He was well and truly scared now. He had leered at Aya. And now, Aya was in his bed. Some vital part of the equation was missing, but he couldn't quite figure it out. The spark of hope in his heart and his rapidly re-emerging lust were making it difficult to concentrate. He was desperate for contact and comfort. It was even better coming from this man whom he'd lamented ever being close to. But, he would not take advantage and some small amount of misguided pride would not allow him to accept pity.

 

“I don't need your pity, Aya.” Yohji's voice was hard and the words were clipped.

 

“It's not pity. It's logistics. My bed is cold and empty. Your bed is warm and full or, at least, it would be if you'd get back in it. Anyway, this is more comfortable.”

 

“I don't think—“

 

“Good,” he interrupted. “Don't think. Just get your ass back into this bed before I drag you in by your hair.”

 

“. . .”

 

“Now, Kudoh.” Nobody who valued his life, to even the smallest degree, argued with that tone. Yohji climbed under the covers trying to keep distance between their bodies. Aya ignored this and once again spooned against Yohji's back. His arm went around the chilled golden body again and, when Yohji made to shift away, Aya splayed his hand across the well-muscled chest and held him back. “Don't move.”

 

“But Aya -“

 

“Sleep. Now.”

 

Yohji sighed, but relaxed his body into Aya's with a defeated sigh. Aya smiled and buried his nose in Yohji's hair and neck drinking in the earthy, rich, and slightly spicy scent inherent only to this man. It was enough to drive him to distraction. To be pressed this close, so much skin touching skin, surrounded by his scent, Aya wanted to roll Yohji onto his back and fuck him into the mattress. To finally possess the man as he'd wanted to those many months ago. To show his golden-skinned, honey-haired love, just what he was offering.

 

But not yet. He had to rebuild trust first and this was step one. He had to prove that he cared, that it wouldn't be about sex. Well, not *all* about sex, at any rate. Aya, once again, exerted his iron will over his rebellious body and slipped into slumber.

 

***************************************************************** ****

 

In the morning, Yohji woke, unsurprisingly, alone. `Knew it was too good to be true.'

 

He sat up, gently probing the wounds on his neck to check their progress. They didn't hurt nearly as much this morning; perhaps they weren't so bad after all.

 

He lost himself to his musings for a while. His mind meandered through fantasies of a relationship with Aya, realities of how he was going to get the hell out of this cabin, and memories of how he'd arrived at this moment in his life. Most of these were thoughts best left dormant, but like a tongue worrying a loose tooth, he just couldn't leave it alone. Especially the memories. Sometimes, like this morning, he found himself retracing his entire life to find the moment, the turning point that had set him on the path to this time and place. The answer was different every time. Some days, it was when his mother died. Other days it was the first time his father had beaten him. Still others it was the first time he'd sought solace at the bottom of a bottle, or the day he'd left school, or the first time he'd used sex as a meal ticket, or the day Asuka had died. There was no answer, really.

 

It was all of these things.

 

And none of them.

 

In the end, all that his memories brought were guilt, shame, self-loathing, and vast opportunities for self-pity.

 

But, Kudoh Yohji did not accept pity. Not from himself and certainly not from Fujimiya Aya. Aya, who was probably trying to scrub Yohji's taint from his skin that very moment. Aya, who thought Yohji had retreated so far into himself that he couldn't see what was right in front of him.

 

`Fuck! Why does everyone think I'm stupid? I'm depressed, not delusional.' He'd just have to set the man to rights on that account. Kudoh Yohji was nobody's pet project.

 

As if bidden by his thoughts, the door creaked open and a mop of red hair poked in.

 

“You're awake.” Aya seemed surprised. Yohji glanced at the clock. `Well, no wonder he's shocked. I guess this is pretty early by my usual standards.' Aya fully entered the room looking freshly showered with still damp hair, confirming Yohji's earlier suspicions of the other man's whereabouts.

 

“You've got a real keen sense of the obvious, Fujimiya,” Yohji said with forced levity.

 

The mild insult and regression to `last-name basis' were not lost on Aya and he eyed Yohji suspiciously. He'd been hoping that last night would have proven something. Something that would negate the resentment and suspicion that was all but oozing from his teammate.

 

`The gods really do hate me! Why couldn't he have just slept late like he always does? I knew this would happen if he woke up alone. Damn, damn, damn!' Aya could hear the whine in his voice, even in his own head.

 

It had been a mistake to allow Yohji to wake up alone and he would have to recoup his losses from that tactical error. The decision to leave the bed had been a struggle, but was eventually decided for him when he realized there'd be no way to hide his evident arousal should Yohji wake before he got himself under control again. The urge to wake the man with feathering kisses and touches along every inch of exposed skin had become unbearable. He'd had to escape. The shower, however, had done little to wash Yohji's scent from his skin, just as stroking himself off to his fantasies had done little to ease his tension. Gods, but he needed this man. Yohji's scent was like a pheromone that aroused the very animalistic nature within Aya. He wanted to mark all that skin with evidence of ownership. He wanted the man to carry his scent. He wanted to pin him down and force him to bare his throat, allow it to be bitten and bruised, worshipped with teeth and lips and tongue. Aya forcefully bit back on a growl. Yohji noticed, but misinterpreted.

 

“Oh, don't get all pissy. It was a joke. You're very intuitive. Better?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm and Aya was pretty sure he'd seen him roll his eyes.

 

`It is way too early in the day to start this shit!' He found his voice and issued the day's first order. “Breakfast.” He was halfway down the hall when the response reached him.

 

“Yes, master!”

 

Aya felt a thrill run through him at the words. `What is it about Yohji that brings out this irrepressible need to dominate? Own. Possess. Protect.' He was trembling with the suppressed need to be near the man at all times. It was frightening and exhilarating in turns. `Just you wait, Yotan. Soon, very soon.' He smirked. He was nearly ready to put his theory regarding Yohji's need for a new tether into practice. Both figuratively and literally.