Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Not Now, Not Ever ❯ Another dream? ( Chapter 7 )

Disclaimer: I don't own Weiss; I'm not getting paid to torture the boys. I gladly do it for free! This is a work of fanfiction and is not for profit.

 

Pairing: Aya/Yohji

 

Rating: NC-17 lemon and language

 

A/N: For the chibi because without her prompting (reading begging), I may never have had the courage to post my first fic, not to mention my first lemon. Thank you, Moimoi-chan! Thank you to AssAnon for supporting my habit and offering feedback. Lastly, thank you Marasmine, the world's most patient beta!

 

`thoughts'

 

 

 

 

Chapter 7

 

The next two days at the cabin were a maelstrom of emotions. Tension was high and tempers were short as Aya continued to monitor Yohji's behavior and meals to ensure the fool was actually eating. He attempted to observe unobtrusively, but Yohji was an assassin. The man knew when he was being watched. Yohji's innate abilities to sense others and to accurately read them were two of his best qualities, both as an assassin and as a friend. It was damn hard to keep things from the man. It bothered Aya sometimes that the idiot was so oblivious to the swordsman's feelings for him. He supposed that was Yohji's ego at work, one of his worst qualities, both as an assassin and as a friend. Once he'd made up his mind that they'd never be more than friends, and barely even that, he'd refused to allow himself to see any other possibilities.

 

Yohji was frustrated with having a babysitter. Aya was frustrated with Yohji's bull-headed resistance to even the most innocent of advances. The only progress he'd made was that they continued to share a bed every night. Ostensibly, to stave off the nightmares, but Aya clung to the circumstance regardless. It had to mean something that Yohji would allow Aya to be so near when he was most vulnerable. He was slowly earning Yohji's trust again. It also meant that Yohji's resolve was weakening under the pressure of his growing need. Yohji was so ensconced in the habit of seeking human comfort that having it readily available and freely offered, but denying himself, was like waving a needle in front of a junkie. He desperately craved contact and while he cursed his weakness, he could not refuse Aya's offer each night.

 

That, of course, is precisely what Aya had been banking on.

 

Yohji continued as he'd been at the Koneko, spending as much time alone as possible. At times, he appeared to go out of his way to avoid Aya. He would read, sometimes on the porch so he could smoke, sometimes in his room, but rarely in the common room. When he wasn't reading, he seemed, for all intents and purposes, to be brooding. The silence was becoming unbearable again. Even meals were passing without words outside of `please pass the salt,' `thank you,' and `I'll wash, you dry.' Aya wasn't sure how much more of it he could take. The irony of the situation was not lost on the swordsman.

 

`Alas, but the gods have a twisted sense of humor,' he thought as he idly paced the perimeter of the cabin one evening.

 

Speaking to no one in particular, he directed his eyes to the sky. “I get it, okay? I understand. I know that this is what I was like. I know, now, how it must have felt for him to care for me and to be locked out in the beginning and again after I'd pushed him away. You've gotten your point across, but this,” he gestured vaguely toward Yohji's room, “isn't helping! If I'm to suffer for hurting him back then, that's fine. But something has to be done for him. Now. I can't spend another day watching him fade away! Damn it! Just tell me what to do! I need to know if this plan will work,” he ended in a whisper.

 

Aya silently continued to pour his heart out to whatever god would hear him. He figured if they didn't intercede on his behalf, perhaps they would on Yohji's. He was beginning to feel real fear where the blonde was concerned. He recognized the calm resignation that had been creeping into Yohji's features for weeks. The emptiness of his once sparkling eyes left Aya cold. He could practically feel Time's sand slipping through his fingers and Yohji along with it. That was one of the many reasons that he was so reluctant to leave his love alone for too long, often finding excuses to check up on him.

 

Icy dread constricted his heart as his recurring nightmare assailed him; a vision of himself opening the door to Yohji's room at night, of climbing into the bed and settling himself against a warm body, only to find that body cold. Not even a body really, just a shell, a husk of the man Kudoh Yohji had been, but no Kudoh Yohji.

 

It could not be permitted to happen.

 

`I will not lose him. Not now, not ever. Like it or not, Kudoh, you belong to me.'

 

The decision to live or die, to stay or go, no longer belonged to Yohji. He would learn that tonight. Aya allowed himself to slip into mission mode. The calculated calm that always accompanied Abyssinian's presence was slowly seeping in. He had tried to do things Ran's way, with caring, patience, and understanding, but his target was not cooperating. Abyssinian, however, had some very unique ideas about how to bring others around to his way of thinking.

 

He took the stairs two at a time. There was no hesitation, no turning back.

 

`Now or never, and never is simply unacceptable.'

 

Stopping in his own room to grab a few useful items first, he strode purposefully to Yohji's room. On the balcony, honeyed locks captured the last few rays of waning sunlight before their brilliance was muted by the early stars. Other than a quick glance at his watch, the lanky man didn't even acknowledge the intrusion.

 

`He's early,' Yohji thought as he watched the last beam of light dip below the horizon, flicking the spent filter of his smoke away.

 

Suddenly something looped around his neck and immediately began to tighten. Yohji experienced a fleeting déjà vu, slipping momentarily into the past, before reality reasserted itself.

 

`What the fuck? Everybody has their limits, guess I found Aya's.'

 

Strong arms wrapped around his chest as a cool voice hissed close enough to his ear to send a shiver down his spine.

 

“Is this what you want? It this what you're out here waiting for every night? Do you think she'll come back to finish it? Or shall I do it?” The last words were punctuated by increased pressure to his airway. He couldn't answer, only stare in shock. He was being pulled backward, to the interior of the room. Toward the bed.

 

The redhead moved around to face him and shoved him back. Yohji stumbled, landing in a graceless heap on the bed. Aya pounced immediately, straddling his prey. Trachea suddenly free, said prey greedily gulped air, his hand instinctively reaching to remove the impromptu noose. But, Yohji's hand never made it to his throat; instead it was snagged by pale fingers. The other wrist was also grabbed; both were momentarily pinned above his head before being affixed to the headboard.

 

Aya smirked, actually *smirked*, down at him, proud of his handiwork thus far. Yohji scanned Aya's face. Once he could focus on violet eyes the realization set in that he wasn't dealing with Aya. This was Abyssinian who had come to play. Yohji couldn't bring himself to be too concerned. He feared neither death nor his leader. He wished for a second that he could call upon the suave, confident Balinese, but that part of him was already lost. Every part of him was lost. He couldn't force a reaction to anything if he had to. He was already dead.

 

Right?

 

But then . . .

 

He realized, with an odd sort of detachment, that his breathing was a little heavier, more ragged. His heart wasn't beating; it was pounding a new rhythm in his chest. Taking stock of his situation he recognized it as one of his most secret fantasies coming true. For a moment, he wondered if that garrote actually had killed him or at least rendered him unconscious.

 

`Because there is absolutely no fucking way that Fujimiya Aya just bound me to a bed and is now straddling my hips. I wish I could pinch myself.'

 

Instead, he found his voice.

 

“Are you real?”

 

Pain exploding along his cheekbone from a well-aimed backhand was his answer. Emerald eyes, at first wide and disbelieving, were quickly darkening with lust.

 

`You are one seriously fucked-up dude, Kudoh. Five minutes ago you wanted to die; now you want to be beaten into submission and fucked into oblivion. Then promised it'll happen again.'

 

But it was true. Aya had turned the tables on him without warning. Aya, who was still sitting astride his thighs, intently watching each thought flit across his face, like reading a book. When their gazes finally locked, Aya slowly licked his lips. Yohji could feel those eyes, plum dark with unbridled lust, devouring every inch of him as he was spread out before the Abyssinian.

 

It was easily the most erotic thing he'd ever experienced and he was hoping it would get even better.

 

Aya leaned forward, pressing against Yohji from shoulder to hip, huskily whispering, “I know what you need,” as he traced the outer shell of the blonde's ear with a skillful tongue. Yohji couldn't arrest the gasp produced when sharp teeth tugged at the tiny hoop in his ear. He was quickly finding his jeans too tight and was wishing for an all around absence of clothing.

 

The curious tongue continued to leave a wet trail in its wake, starting just behind the ear and stopping to lave extra attention on a collarbone. Aya wasn't sure how long he'd be able to maintain a slow torture. The tawny flesh was like a drug. The more he tasted, the more he wanted. And, oh gods, did he want more! He nuzzled closer, nudging with his nose trying to get better access to the neck he was so anxious to mark, but Yohji suddenly snapped his chin down, effectively blocking Aya. A low, warning growl rumbled from the back of Aya's throat, but it didn't have the desired effect. Yohji still refused to lift his chin.

 

Aya sat back on his heels, once again locking green and violet gazes. Yohji's eyes revealed lust, passion, pride, fear, and genuine affection. It was the pride that both men were battling. No matter how much he wanted, needed to submit, Yohji could not go down without a fight. It was innate; a survival instinct that simply would not allow him to just `roll-over.'

 

But, Aya would not relent, not when he'd come this far. He teasingly began to unbutton his captive's plain white oxford shirt, knowing he had as much time as necessary to claim his prize. Even though he felt like he'd explode if it took too long, he would call upon every reserve of control he could muster. He would not take his pleasure until Yohji had acquiesced.

 

He opened the shirt by sliding his open palms up the length of the well-muscled torso. The ribs were still too prominent, but some of the muscle mass was still there. Yohji was still fit. Aya continued to soothingly run his hands along chest and sides until he felt the muscles begin to relax. He removed his own shirt and, lying chest to chest again, began his ministrations from scratch. He drank in the small moan that the skin-on-skin contact elicited from his mate.

 

He moved back to his ear, left now, instead of right. Hitched breaths and stifled moans became steadier, but full access to neck and throat was still denied. He slid his hands into the honey locks with deceiving gentleness and felt Yohji begin to arch beneath him. Another low growl grew into a vicious snarl as Aya fisted his hand, using his grip to jerk the blonde head aside. At the rough treatment, Yohji cried out; the sound like music to Aya's ears. The cry, however, quickly became a mewl as teeth sank into the soft flesh of his neck at the shoulder. The former playboy's hips bucked as suction pulled blood to the surface and again as a clever tongue soothed the bite. Aya ground down against Yohji and was rewarded with more mewls and deeper groans. It was everything he could do not to come with the faint taste of Yohji's blood on his tongue, Yohji's pleading moans in his ears, and Yohji's erection against his own.

 

The slight coppery tang in his mouth began to mollify the rage that had been blinding him moments before. It did nothing to cool his ardor, but he stopped acting purely on instinct, his brain starting to join the game, too. He pushed himself up on hands and knees and ghosted his lips over the rapidly swelling bruise on Yohji's cheek in silent apology. He really hadn't meant to hit him that hard and wondered for a moment what had come over him. He was still curious about the all-consuming need to dominate that this man always brought forth in him. He filed it away for future review.

 

Yohji whimpered at the brush of Aya's lips, but did not try to move away. The lightly bronzed body was trembling now, almost violently and the marred flesh on his cheek had been damp and salty. Aya focused on the blonde's face and found what he had thought to be only sweat, was also tears. The sight of Yohji, his long-time temptation, crying and shaking beneath him made something deep within Aya purr. It also made Ran's higher brain functions awaken enough to attempt coherent speech.

 

“Yohji?” His eyes were screwed tightly closed. His fists were white-knuckle tight in his bonds above his head. Every muscle was tense, like he was holding on for dear life. He did not respond to his name. Wherever he was, he'd gone too far to be reached by normal means.

 

Aya leaned in once more and began trailing tiny nips and kisses along the now exposed neck. He followed the path of the wire thin line encircling it with just the tip of his tongue. He felt Yohji's breath catch and fresh tears slide down flushed cheeks at the touch to the highly sensitive scar tissue. He continued to cover every inch of the golden column with his lips and tongue until he reached the still rapidly fluttering pulse. He grazed his teeth across it, back and forth, pressing closer with each pass. Yohji's body responded, heart racing, chest heaving, hips rolling. Once Yohji's body felt as though it was about to snap, Aya knew it was time. He called out Yohji's name and immediately bit down on the jugular at his lips. Emerald eyes snapped open as the golden body arched into Aya's. Yohji threw his head back farther, finally fully offering his throat. Had his hands been free, he would have been pressing Aya closer. Even the additional pain of barely healed skin being stretched and abused only made the pleasure that much sharper. He knew that he was being marked and he relished it. The ritual of possession had begun and the anticipation of what was to come made him whine out Aya's name.

 

Aya responded to the summons by bringing his lips to Yohji's. It started simple, the barest meeting of lips in greeting. Yohji lifted his head, pressing closer. Aya sucked Yohji's bottom lip into his mouth, holding it with his teeth, stroking over it with his tongue. He took advantage of a pleasured sigh to explore the rest of his new lover's mouth, tasting everything. Yohji was exploring as well, his tongue dancing and tangling with Aya's. But, he never tried to take control of the kiss, never battled for the upper hand. Aya relaxed all of his weight onto the bony man beneath him as he lost himself to the pleasure of Yohji's mouth. His hands loosened their stranglehold in silken hair and moved to cradle Yohji's face between both palms. When their burning lungs finally forced them to part they held each other's eyes, each looking for reassurance.

 

The fiercely possessive look in Aya's eyes made Yohji whine again. Aya climbed from the bed and finished stripping his prey. He took a moment to fully appreciate and memorize the picture before him. Yohji, nude and blushing with arousal, wanton, presented like an offering, and already bearing his mark. A triumphant smirk appeared with the thought that that was just for him. No one would ever see this spectacular picture except him. He growled a little when he thought of others having seen Yohji like this before. The blonde whimpered and lifted his chin at the sound, already responding to his mate's subtle cues. He was a fast learner.

 

Aya spent another moment planning his course. There was power in being clothed while his captive was not. However, the battle had clearly already gone in Aya's favor and Yohji was still bound. There was no reason to continue to exploit that weakness. He quickly stripped to remove all barriers between himself and the beautiful creature waiting for him. Yohji gave an appreciative sigh at the sight of Aya's body finally revealed. He instinctively tried to move toward the warmth he so desperately needed, but his body only jerked as his bonds held him back. Aya took the movement as invitation and slid his body along the flushed and panting form on the bed. He licked, bit, and kissed his way from knees to neck, avoiding the jutting erection that pleaded for attention. It wasn't time for that yet.

 

“Ay~a!” He shivered at hearing his name moaned so desperately. “Please.”

 

“Please what, Yohji?” He wasn't finished teasing yet and it could be heard in his voice.

 

Yohji's voice was still filled with desire, but very serious. “Please, tell me this isn't another dream. I…I can't…wake up alone after this…again. Please.”

 

“Again?” Aya pushed up on his arms to see Yohji's face. “Have you dreamed of me Yotan?”

 

“Yes.” It was barely a whisper.

 

Aya's breath washed over Yohji's ear. “Tell me, Yohji. What did I do to you in your dreams?”

 

“Mmmm. It was just like this,” his voice like liquid sex dripping over Aya's skin.

 

“I bound you in you dream?”

 

“Hai.”

 

“How did you feel?” His hands continued to map the golden body below him.

 

“Helpless.” Said golden body shuddered as the word was spoken.

 

“And?”

 

“Exposed. Vulnerable.” Another shudder.

 

“But you liked it?” Aya already knew the answer from the way the blonde was sinuously writhing against him. Making Yohji admit it was just another power play.

 

“Gods, yes!” Yohji gasped out the answer as Aya began licking and sucking along his chest and stomach.

 

“And did I fuck you in your dream, Yohji?”

 

“Ungh…yes…but first…ah!” His sentence was cut off when a tongue swirled in his navel.

 

Aya wanted to hear more about the dream, being unbelievably aroused by the idea that, on some level, Yohji had considered this possibility. Not to mention Yohji's voice describing whatever it was that his hentai mind had come up with. However, he was quickly approaching the limits of his restraint. More than anything, he wanted to be buried in that tight ass. To fuck Yohji until he was screaming out his name, begging for release, and completely submitting to Aya's mastery. To mark the man within as he had without.

 

Calling upon the reserves of control he'd promised himself, he pulled back.

 

“But first, what? What did I do before I took you, Yotan?”

 

Aya was genuinely interested in the answer since he couldn't think of anything else he'd rather do. He certainly wasn't expecting what Yohji's said next.

 

“My mouth.”

 

Aya's cock twitched and a shiver ran down his spine at the mental picture. Yohji felt it and went on.

 

“I was bound, just like this. You straddled my chest with your knees by my ribs.” Aya closed his eyes, resting his forehead on Yohji's chest, drinking the man in, and let the dreamer paint the scene. “You grabbed my hair at the crown to lift my head just right. With your other hand, you brushed the head of your cock across my lips `til they glistened with precome. You liked it when I traced my lips with tongue, told you how you taste, smiled at you. I opened my mouth before you had to ask and you fed me until head of your cock hit the back of my throat.”

 

It was everything Aya could do not to come just from the story he was hearing. He wanted to put theory into practice, but he also wanted to hear the end. And Yohji, talented though he may be, could not talk around a mouthful of Aya. Yohji paused a moment, letting the anticipation built, then continued his tale.

 

“I opened my throat and took you to the hilt. Then, I sucked hard and reveled in the little pleasured moans you made. You pulled back a little and let go of my hair to grip the headboard with both hands, moving forward and putting more weight on your knees. After I lapped and kissed and sucked on you a little more you started to move. Just shallow, easy thrusts at first, but then you hit your stride and started fucking my mouth in earnest.”

 

Yohji's breath was ragged and he kept licking his lips as he told his tale. Aya lifted his head and watched him intently, realizing that this was something Yohji enjoyed. Not just the talking, but also the act he was describing. He wanted to know more about that aspect.

 

“Tell me how you felt with my cock in your mouth, Yotan,” he purred.

 

Yohji's hips involuntarily jerked forward at the sultry request. He couldn't help striving for contact where he really needed it. Just talking to Aya about one of his favorite pastimes had him so hard that it hurt. Giving head was an art form as far as Yohji was concerned and he knew that there were few who could match him for skill. Much of what made him so good at it was his enthusiasm. It's easy to excel at what you truly enjoy and there are few things that he enjoyed more than wrapping lips and tongue around heated flesh.

 

“Oh, gods, Ayan! It was incredible. So hot and hard, throbbing against my tongue. Your skin like silk on my lips and your taste, like nothing I've ever known. Salty and sweet, habit-forming.”

 

“Yotan…” Aya breathed out the name. It was one thing to think about the pleasure he could find in that warm, wet cavern. But, thinking about his lover's pleasure at having him there was quickly undoing him. Yohji seemed to sense how close he was. Though Aya had forcibly kept from touching himself while he listened, he was starting to rhythmically grind his erection against the matching one below him. The blonde moved to the final chapter of his narrative.

 

“I kept taking all that you could give me, Aya. Moaning and humming trying to send you over the edge. I felt your balls tighten and knew you were almost there and I was dying to taste you. Finally, after a few more thrusts, you grabbed my hair again, holding me in place so you could come down my throat. It felt so good to have you pulsing and spurting on my tongue. You slipped back a little, so I could taste you. Then, you pulled out completely and finished coming all over my face. I'd never felt so…so owned before.”

 

That was it for Aya. With a feral growl he moved up to straddle Yohji's chest.

 

Yohji grew impossibly harder from what he knew he was to receive. `A dream come true,' he thought and smiled.

 

Aya started exactly as Yohji had told him, glazing Yohji's lips in precome. But, Aya was already teetering precariously close to the edge and he knew this would not be drawn out like the dream. `Another time,' he promised himself.

 

The moment Yohji parted his lips Aya unceremoniously plunged in. Yohji relaxed himself and accepted all of him. Knowing that the violet-eyed man didn't have far to go, he immediately began sucking on the column of flesh invading his mouth. Aya cried out from the bliss and began thrusting, fucking Yohji's mouth with abandon. Yohji moaned when Aya began moving. He couldn't get over how good it felt to have Aya take control, to pin him down and take him however he wanted. It felt, oddly, right.

 

`Again, Kudoh, you are seriously fucked up,' he thought. Then, he smiled inwardly thinking, `and I'm about to be seriously fucked.'

 

After only a few thrusts, Aya again did exactly as Yohji had described, grabbing his hair and coming down his throat, on his tongue, and eventually, on his face. He slid off of Yohji's body and collapsed bonelessly next to him. The orgasm had been absolutely mind-blowing. He reached over and turned the grinning blonde's face to him. He licked Yohji's lips before driving his tongue into that talented mouth. The taste of himself combined with Yohji's own, unique spice and the sight of Yohji's face striped with his seed was enough to reawaken Aya's arousal. He wiped Yohji's face with his fingers, then offered them to the blonde to be licked clean. The older man accepted the digits without hesitation, rolling his tongue around them and sucking gently.

 

Aya withdrew his fingers and moved off of the bed without a word. He bent down and started sorting out the discarded clothing. Yohji saw Aya grab his shirt and was stunned motionless. When the facts of the situation hit him, he turned his face away. He couldn't watch. He felt a flare of immense hurt and then the creeping darkness that he'd been wearing like a shroud for months moved back in.

 

`Should have known that I really was being used. Don't know why I expected him to be any different from…' He refused to finish that thought. Aya was different. Wasn't he?

 

But, Aya was leaving and he couldn't take it. He had the fleeting thought that hopefully Aya would remember to untie him, but he didn't really care. For a moment, he had let himself believe that Aya wanted him. Really wanted him. Not Kudoh the slut. Not the happy-go-lucky playboy. Not any one of the masks he'd worn, but the real Kudoh.

 

Aya had asked for that once, ages ago it seemed.

 

`He really has given up on me. And why not? I gave up, too. So, why am I about to cry? I'm not supposed to feel anything, damn it! Damn him!'

 

A shiver ran through him as the breeze from the balcony cooled the sweat drying on his skin. The once raging erection was flagging with the chill of the air and his thoughts. He wished he could just curl up and disappear. He'd had his share of one-night stands, not nearly what everyone thought, but enough. He'd even employed “the world's oldest profession” when things were bad and he was desperate. Still, he'd never felt so used and so filthy. Even if Aya threw a couple thousand yen on the table before he walked out, like so many before him, Yohji couldn't feel any cheaper.