Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Not Now, Not Ever ❯ Insight ( Chapter 8 )

Disclaimer: Alas, but Weiss is not mine. This is a work of fanfiction and is not for profit.

 

Rating: NC-17

 

Pairing: Aya/Yohji

 

A/N: For Phoenix. Happy Birthday, sweetheart.

 

Marasmine, thank you so much for being such an awesome beta! Also, thank you to everyone who has reviewed. It really makes it easier to finish the story if I think someone's waiting for it!

 

`thoughts'

 

 

 

 

Chapter 8

 

Aya nearly shouted in triumph!

 

He'd managed to find every article of clothing on the floor except for the one he really wanted. Finally, he spotted a pant leg peeking out from under the bed. He must have kicked them off harder than he'd meant to. Picking up the elusive jeans, he rummaged through the pockets until he located the small tube he'd grabbed from his room earlier.

 

Just as his hand emerged from the pocket with his prize, he heard a quiet, choked noise from the bed. He wasn't sure exactly what he expected to see when he turned around again, but it definitely wasn't this. Yohji's face was to the door. His hair had fallen forward again, obscuring most of his features. Through the veil, Aya could just make out one eye, which was squeezed tightly shut. Hands still attached to the headboard, Yohji had somehow managed to twist and fold in on himself, nearly achieving the fetal position. He looked damned uncomfortable.

 

Coming around to the other side of the bed, he could see a few tears leaking from the shielded eyes. He realized that the sound he'd heard was a throttled sob. This was so confusing! A few moments ago, Yohji seemed to be enjoying himself and now he was trying to make himself invisible. Had it really been that bad? Had Aya misunderstood? Taken things to far?

 

`I wanted him to submit, not shatter,' he thought.

 

Yohji could feel Aya's eyes on him again. He wished the man would stop staring at him and just go! He felt like such a fool, crying over the redhead like a lovesick teenager. He'd seemed in such a hurry to leave a moment ago, so why was he just standing there? Yohji couldn't stand the scrutiny.

 

“Just go,” he whispered.

 

Aya was startled when Yohji spoke. The words were so quiet that he was certain he'd misheard them. Yohji hadn't really just told him to leave, right?

 

“What?” Confusion was plain in Aya's voice, but it didn't register through the haze of hurt surrounding Yohji.

 

“Just go! Fucking leave already! Get out!” Yohji lifted his head to scream at Aya, wanting nothing more than for the man to move. He couldn't see the surprise and uncertainty on Aya's face for the tears in his own eyes. He dropped his chin again, wishing the world away.

 

Aya didn't understand what was going on, but it was clear that his presence was agitating the already dangerously unstable blonde. He wanted to ask for an explanation to somehow mend whatever he had rent, but was afraid to push things. Not even thinking of Yohji's captured wrists, he started back toward his clothes, intent on gathering them up and making good his escape. He needed time to figure this out, even though time was something he knew he didn't have the luxury of.

 

Bending to retrieve his shirt, he paused, stilled by a blinding flash of clarity. His prayers, it seemed, were being answered. The gods were coming to the aid of the emotionally inept swordsman in order to save Yohji. He knew, without a doubt, what had happened. He was so grateful that, at least in regards to Yohji, he'd occasionally have these moments of insight. He'd somehow understand the other man's thinking. Of course, this always happened after he'd made some mistake and hurt him somehow, but it often kept the damage from being irreparable. This time, he hoped, would be no exception.

 

He settled on the side of the bed Yohji was facing. He saw the already tense form clench even tighter as he moved closer. The blonde had always seemed so confident and cheerful before. Duck-skinned, he'd called him once, everything just rolling off of his back. Aya sometimes forgot how soft this man's heart really was. He was learning quickly, though, how easily it could be damaged. The more Yohji cared for someone, the easier it was for him or her to wound him. And, though Aya regretted ever having hurt him, his reactions to Aya's carelessness revealed the depth of his feelings for the redhead.

 

For that, Aya was grateful.

 

He reached out and stroked the sweat damp locks away from the scrunched face and Yohji flinched at the initial touch. Aya briefly wondered if there was more here than met the eye, but that was a question for another time.

 

He stretched his body out alongside the curled form and began smoothing his hands down it from shoulder to knees, guiding it toward repose. Upset as he was, Yohji still felt connected to Aya, still felt bonded by his submission, his acceptance. It was so easy to follow Aya's lead now as he would in the field, to react to even his most subtle cues. He responded to Aya's touch by stretching out again and laying flush against his leader's warmth. Aya brought his hands back to Yohji's face and lightly traced each line and angle with his fingertips, the arch of his brow, the planes of his cheekbones, the slope of his chin, the bow of his lips. He propped his head on one hand, still facing his lover.

 

“Yohji, open your eyes.” He spoke with quiet command and after another quivering breath, reddened emerald eyes appeared, but were still averted. “Look at me,” a pause and then, “please.”

 

Again, after a moment of hesitation, Yohji complied. His expression was guarded once more and Aya could practically see the strategic retreat of his emotions. His own heart seized with the thought that, had he really be leaving the room, he would likely have never seen this man alive again. He leaned in and tenderly kissed the tightly drawn lips. Yohji sighed and Aya took advantage to once again taste him. He pulled back after only a few seconds.

 

“I wasn't leaving you.”

 

Yohji got the deer-in-the-headlights look he always wore when Aya seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. It really was uncanny how frighteningly accurate the man could be. No one, not even Asuka, ever understood him that well. Aya had to laugh a little in the face that panic-stricken look.

 

In response to Yohji's unvoiced concern Aya said, “I don't understand it either, but I know. Somehow, I just know. I know you.”

 

Yohji didn't know what to say. His heart leapt and he nearly wept in relief. Aya wasn't leaving him. Aya understood him. Hell, Aya had practically read his mind. It was a little scary, but immensely reassuring as well. He stretched his neck up and Aya bridged the gap between them for another kiss. A toe-curling kiss, heated by the passion that suddenly flared back to life in each man.

 

Without breaking the kiss, Aya reached up and untied Yohji's hands. He wanted to feel the calloused palms on his skin, the wiry arms wrapped around him. As soon as they were freed, they did just that. Yohji pulled Aya closer with one arm around his back and one hand is his hair, cradling his skull. Remembering his place, he rolled onto his back, dragging Aya on top of him, grateful again for the added warmth and comforted by the weight of him on his chest.

 

He took advantage of his newly emancipated hands, smoothing his palms and teasing his fingertips over every inch of alabaster skin he could reach. He felt his arousal spike with each moan from his redheaded lover as his nipples were pinched and rubbed. Pushing Aya's shoulders back, making him support himself on his arms and expose his chest, Yohji dipped his head to lave more attention on the sensitive nubs with teeth and tongue.

 

`Damn, but the man has a talented mouth,' Aya thought as he was driven wild by his gifted lover.

 

Aya's thoughts spiraled back toward reality as Yohji moved his attention back up to his neck, another highly sensitive area. He became aware of the lube still clutched in his fist and decided to put it better use.

 

Letting his arms go slack, he landed back on Yohji's chest. The blonde was busy making a few marks of his own, but Aya couldn't bring himself to care. Truth was, if Yohji belonged to him, he belonged to Yohji just as much. Besides, it felt so good!

 

With his full weight on Yohji, elbows on either side of his face, hands above Yohji's head, he finally managed to un-wrap the little tube and get the cap off. He quickly squeezed a generous amount into his hand and carelessly dropped the container off the side of the bed.

 

Lube already warm from being held for so long, Aya wasted no time in coating several fingers. He eased back to sit on his heels and was pleased when Yohji spread his legs a little farther, bent his knees, and planted his feet on the mattress. He took a moment to enjoy the view of Yohji exposed for his pleasure.

 

The heady feeling of ownership rushed through him again and he gave his lover a feral smile. Yohji's half-lidded, lustful eyes met his for a moment before he tilted his chin up, brandishing the marks Aya had already made.

 

`And soon I'll mark you again,' was all he could think as he slipped one finger into the puckered entrance. `So tight!'

 

Though he'd known it was coming, Yohji couldn't help but tense upon feeling Aya's finger invading his body. He consciously relaxed, earning another smile from the swordsman. Aya soon added a second finger and began scissoring them, stretching the ring of muscle. He kept his gaze fixed on his lover's flushed face, vigilant for signs of discomfort. It wasn't long, however, before Yohji was restlessly riding three fingers and begging for more.

 

“Please…please, now. Need it. Need you, Aya. Ohgodspleasewantyouneedyounow. Aya!” The last cry a result of a rather firm stroke over his prostate.

 

Aya couldn't stop the smug grin that stretched his face. He was getting what he'd wanted for so long. Yohji, laid out before him, sweating, panting, fists clenched in the sheets and begging to be fucked. They'd already played out Yohji's dream, now it seemed that a second dream would be coming true that night.

 

Aya efficiently slicked his eager erection with the remainder of the lube in his palm and positioned himself. Another glance at Yohji's face told him that the blonde was plenty ready for him.

 

He couldn't help watching as his length disappeared into the incredible clasp of Yohji's body. He went slowly, pausing twice to allow Yohji a moment to adjust before he was fully seated. He waited again, this time to bring himself under control and not just end it right there.

 

Yohji wiggled his hips impatiently and Aya indulged him in another smile. It was worth it to see the wonder spread across his friend's features. Wonder at seeing Aya smile and wonder at that smile being for him. Aya swooped in for another kiss before building a rhythm of long stokes.

 

Yohji was mindless with the pleasure. Aya's body fit his like they were made for one another. He felt stretched and so full. Experiencing a tiny loss each time his lover pulled back, only to then be overwhelmed by the bliss of him surging forward and filling him again and again and again.

 

As the need for completion became unbearable, Aya increased the intensity; shorter, more powerful strokes, fucking Yohji into the mattress. Reaching between their bodies, Aya grabbed the blonde's woefully neglected cock and gave several firm strokes in counterpoint to the rhythm of his hips. He bent close and kissed moist, swollen lips, then moved along his jaw to a studded ear.

 

“Come for me,” he whispered.

 

And Yohji obeyed his leader's command. He threw his head back and screamed his release for the entire world to hear.

 

Still, it wasn't the sound of Yohji's voice or the way his body suddenly contracted around him that sent Aya over the edge as well. It was the power. The knowledge that he had done this. That he had caused another person to feel such bright, sharp pleasure was what caused him to flood Yohji's body with his release.

 

Yohji moaned again as he felt Aya's final few thrusts and then the pulsing warmth within him. He was being marked in the most intimate way possible and he was lost to the bliss.

 

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

 

The descent back to reality was slow and, to be honest, unwelcome. Aya pulled the covers over them, suddenly self-conscious. As he settled next to Yohji, he met his eyes. The question there was evident, but Aya wasn't prepared to answer it yet. He wasn't even sure he knew the answer.

 

He willed Yohji to understand. He knew that he wasn't giving this up; he just didn't know exactly what that meant.

 

`I don't know where to go from here. I wasn't even sure we'd get this far, so I didn't plan the next phase.' He needed time. He needed sleep.

 

The intimacy of the past few hours had clearly strengthened the connection between them and Yohji nodded minutely.

 

`I guess I don't really need to know right now,' he thought. `He doesn't seem to be going anywhere and, for now, that's enough.' He just didn't want to be alone.

 

Yohji leaned over the side of the bed, rummaging around on the floor until he came up with a discarded towel. It was never pleasant to wake up sticky or itchy, so he cleaned them up the best he could. He dropped the towel back to the floor and flipped the bedside lamp off. Rolling over, he found Aya's arms waiting for him. Soon, both men were drifting toward unconsciousness legs tangled, arms holding each other close, blonde head tucked securely under the redhead's chin.