Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Feeling Like a Fool ❯ Sorrowful Thoughts While Cooking ( Chapter 1 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
Many thanks to those of you who have left uplifting reviews for the first book of the Realizations Arc, “Torn Between Two Lovers”, here at MM.org. I can't begin to tell you how much that helps my muses and me to keep pushing this storyline onwards.
Hopefully you will enjoy the latest addition as our heroes move forward in time and fall deeper into the angst that threatens to swallow them whole.
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Title: Feeling Like a Fool [chapter 1 of 6]
Book 2 of the Realizations Arc
Author: Enigma (also known as “E-sama the Llama”)
Series: Weiss Kreuz
Rating: NC-17
Pairing for Lemon: Aya x Ken
Warnings: Yaoi, angst, violence, bloodshed, coarse language, past abuse, sexual triangle (Yohji/Ken/Aya), rough sex, detailed lemon. AU-OOC.
Disclaimer: “Weiss Kreuz” is the property of Koyasu Takehito and Project Weiss. All original characters, including Hanagawa Reiko, Kenji-kun, “Christie”, the unnamed drug dealer, etc. © Enigma, 2007. This unauthorized work of unpaid fanfiction is intended for entertainment only.
//internal thoughts//
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Standing temporarily motionless at the Koneko's kitchen sink, Ken gazed at the misty darkness outside the window and frowned slightly as he wondered where on earth his two missing teammates could possibly be.
//I really thought Omi would've been back by now. Delivering funeral arrangements doesn't take all afternoon and half the evening! But maybe he got lucky with that boyfriend of his?//
The simple fact that a “girlfriend” was never considered to really be an option for the youngest member of Weiss was a no-brainer. Even the former J-league player best known for his hard work rather than his keen intuition had figured that out right away.
When he'd first met Omi, it was glaringly obvious that the delicate-seeming little blond boy was just as gay as Ken himself was. Not that the brunette was therefore attracted to him, not in the least. Much to his own personal sorrow over the years, Ken was unerringly attracted to men older than himself who he felt he could look up to and trust. As to just why he had this rather specific predilection was something best left unexamined so as to avoid reopening dreadful, ancient wounds older even than those left behind by Kase.
Frowning even more deeply, Ken resumed the laborious task of cleaning the veritable mountain of vegetables that were currently strewn across the counter beside the sink. Rinsing a carrot and then beginning to clean it with careful strokes of the peeler, his thoughts remained affixed on his missing comrades.
//Well, even if Omi is out getting himself happily fucked into tomorrow, that still doesn't explain Aya being AWOL… again! Honestly, I thought we put an end to his old bad habit of simply vanishing now that we all know the story about his sister, Takatori, and everything.//
Sadly, the full truth behind the connections between the Takatori clan and not only Aya but all of Weiss had yet to be revealed, but that was neither here nor there at this point.
Casting a mournful glance at the attendance section of the large bulletin board on the far wall, Ken noted that it remained exactly as it had been all day with no mention whatsoever of Aya's plans.
This was merely an oversight on the part of the scarlet-haired swordsman whose mental equilibrium had been disturbed by the recent shocking discovery of “Christie's” latest victim. In other words, this wasn't a deliberate act of disrespect aimed at the three young men who shared his home and that might have gotten him a bit of a reprieve if he'd admitted it. Granted, he would never bother to really apologize for worrying his comrades, either, but there was nothing new in that.
The calendar hanging nearby reminded him that it was still only the second of July, so the humidity and drizzly rain outside were perfectly normal. Equally uninspiring was the fact that it was still merely a humdrum Thursday, so Ken just sighed and began dicing his freshly cleaned carrot.
Distracted by more immediate concerns, he didn't give his surroundings further consideration even though the kitchen was really a dream come true for the self-taught, nineteen year old cook.
Where he stood facing a simply huge picture window which overlooked the driveway which connected the Koneko's loading dock to the street, his primary view was of another mixed-use building, but that was okay. If he glanced upwards, as he often did, the sky brightened his mood more often than not. If he glanced downwards, he could frequently catch glimpses of Yohji wandering around smoking cigarettes and being far more of an overly protective watchdog than the former private investigator would ever have admitted to being.
To Ken's left, there was a small countertop and then a large refrigerator which seemed to be chronically empty. Four hungry young men tended to do that to one's perishable food and drink supplies.
To his right, a substantial length of countertop was interrupted briefly by a stove whose oven often smelled too much like reheated cheap delivery pizza. Then there were the obligatory small appliances: the microwave that smelled eternally of popcorn, the blender that Yohji never remembered to clean out without being reminded post-happy hour, the chronically overworked rice cooker, and the coffeemaker, easily one of the most overworked pieces of equipment present. There were a few other random bits of kitchenware, but for the most part, the counters were kept cleared to make meal preparation less of a chore than it had to be.
Directly behind Ken was a moderately large kitchen table with four chairs pulled up to it on a regular basis. There were two more chairs off to one side which were handy when guests joined them for a meal, something that was particularly important considering the fact that Aya had commandeered the adjoining dining room as his office.
Since he was in charge of the shop's accounting, Aya needed somewhere to keep a lot of paperwork, but more often then not, he didn't get much work done there. It was far too easy for his teammates to find him in such a central location and when they did, they often interrupted his work. This was especially true of Yohji who took great delight in pestering him needlessly regardless of where Aya tried to get non-Weiss, business-related things taken care of.
The large, eat-in kitchen was the heart of their home as it was for most families, but the second floor also had a small half-bath plus a generous living room at the other end of the building.
Almost immediately after Kritiker had turned the building over to them, Omi and Yohji had laid claim to what amounted to the Weiss family room once they all took up residence. It had a well worn leather couch that Omi liked to sprawl all over while watching old movies and Yohji enjoyed an equally disreputable looking La-Z-Boy recliner while he listened to music. When he dared to just hang out with his friends for awhile, Ken almost always ended up sitting on a beanbag chair which had seen better days.
Against the wall shared with the former dining room was an array of mismatched bookshelves, a vintage multi-component stereo system, and plenty of music on both cassette and CD. There were a few actual books scattered on the shelves, too, but not many.
In one corner was a lava lamp on top of a cupboard and opposite it was an old school entertainment center complete with a clunky television set, VCR, and so forth. The room's only window overlooked the street, a not entirely unpleasant view, but nothing to write home about, either. The far wall was one shared with another mixed use structure next door and they had tossed a few posters onto it just to break up the vast boring space there. The most humorous item on that wall was a clock whose batteries were never changed. Therefore, it was permanently set to ten after two, something that both youngest and oldest assassins found funny, yet the others considered childish.
In other words, the whole thing looked like the common area of a college dormitory, but they didn't mind since it was so comfortable.
Aya rarely deigned to join the other three in the living room. But on those special winter nights when snow transformed their little neighborhood into a silent, beautiful ghost town, all four would gather there for homemade hot cocoa and unspoken camaraderie. Those idyllic moments never lasted long, but they would leave memories that would bring comfort in the painful months to come.
There was a fair amount of second floor space that was lost to the staircase which led either up to the bedrooms or down to the shop. They never thought about that very much other than to use the space beneath it for storing sports equipment and the like; the same held true all the way up to the fourth floor.
There was also an open-air porch area filled with plants on the back of the building---there was another one just like it on the third floor, too---but no one went out there to relax. This space was dedicated to maintaining the Koneko's larger stock and whenever someone asked for a room-height dieffenbachia or other tall plant, invariably it was Ken who was sent to retrieve it. Typically he did so without complaint, but there were times when he hated being the designated pack animal.
Overall, their home was a warm one and if it wasn't for the deadly secret behind their shared purpose in life, they might have easily been just another carefree group of young adults sharing living space and a small business.
Remaining doggedly focused on his cooking and not reflecting for a moment on the layout of his current home, Ken finished the carrot that he'd been working on before dropping the mound of orange cubes into the simmering pot of water on the stove. With a mild sigh, he then picked up another one to repeat the process even while his mind continued to wander.
//I kinda thought that if I started putting together a big pot of chicken `n veggie curry, those two might get hungry enough to come home and eat it. Of course Yohji thought that was just plain stupid and that we oughta order some pizza, but I guess I really thought it might work. Then again, he's always extra lazy after sex, so it's no big surprise he didn't understand why I'd want to cook tonight.//
Memories only a few hours old of the way that Yohji had caught him masturbating in the first floor flower shop danced across Ken's mind's eye and he actually had to stop the blade of his knife for fear of cutting himself. A small smile graced his lips as he let his eyes slip shut long enough to savor the recalled sensation of being filled so very well. Twice, no less.
Being fucked once while he was bent over the potting bench might have been enough under other circumstances. But on a rainy afternoon with nothing else better to do, a second round in the locker room shower had certainly been nice, too.
Despite the intensity of the images he was replaying for his own pleasure, Ken's cheeks never reddened in a blush of embarrassment as some others' might have.
What he did with Yohji was perfectly legitimate---they were both certainly old enough for consensual sex, for pity's sake!---and he didn't apologize for it. The only lingering issue was the fact that he was in a similar yet separate relationship with Aya and that made him uncomfortable.
This brought his dilemma back into his thoughts and this allowed him to resume his task of preparing food for the now somewhat delayed supper that he still hoped to share with his absent friends.
//Earlier, before I stupidly let Yohji catch me jerking off, I was trying to sort out the whole thing about those two guys. Even if we weren't coworkers as well as teammates, it would still bother me that I'm having catch-as-catch-can sex with two of my friends the way that I have been. Maybe if we were a true threesome or something it would be different, but I really can't imagine getting those two to agree on anything like that.//
Swapping out the carrots for a small bag of onions, Ken continued cleaning produce and silently rambling to himself.
//At least Yohji is fun about it. He takes his time, preps me really well, sweet talks me the whole damned time—sometimes too much, mind you---and makes sure I get off just as hard and just as often as he does on the rare occasions we screw. Aya, on the other hand, is as silent as a damned rock most of the time and has left me hanging quite literally at least once! Finishing myself with my own hand is *not* the way good sex should end!//
With an angry huff of breath, Ken brushed wayward brown bangs out of his eyes and immediately forgave his transgressor.
//But that really wasn't Aya's fault that time. Hmmm…. If I recall correctly, it was the second time that he snagged me after a mission, just a week or so ago….//
He sighed and continued working while reexamining the event in question.
//There really wasn't time to do it right. We'd taken down our target over in Akihabara and it was such a high risk kill, we were both totally pumped and needed relief. So I sucked him off on that rooftop and I think he was going to do the same, but the building's rent-a-cops showed up and we had to boogie. Damn, but it was *tough* riding back home on my Kawasaki with a hard-on the whole fucking time!//
Dark brown bangs were getting in his eyes again, and he blew then aside with a huff of breath while recalling the odd way that particular night had ended.
//Worse, by the time I got home, Aya'd taken off to parts unknown and Yohji still wasn't around either, so it was just me and some damned animated gay porn that I found on a VHS tape in Yohji's room.//
Peeling the onions one at a time was going slowly and Ken was starting to feel the familiar tingle that preceded tears in his eyes even as he laughed quietly.
//Who knew there was actual *gay* porn anime that wasn't that touchy-feely yaoi crap the girls seem to dig even though they never show any actual fucking? What was that thing called? Oh, yeah, “The Four Horsemen: Legend of the Blue Wolves” I think. Too bad that project got scrapped before they could do the other OVAs. It was pretty hot….//
Without allowing that sexy thought to sidetrack him, Ken went back to the matter that had earned itself the full appellation of “quandary” in his book.
//So, anyway, there's Yohji on the one hand. Hotter than hell, experienced, incredibly well hung, and actually seems to give a crap whether I enjoy our time together or not. Then there's Aya. Colder than ice, never makes a sound during sex if he can help it, apparently pretty damned inexperienced, but also well hung. One seems to enjoy my company, the other acts like jerking off alone might be equally satisfying.//
The first burning sting of a teardrop forming that he wasn't bothering to fight washed over Ken who redoubled his efforts to not only finish chopping the onions, but also to sort out his feelings about his two very different partners.
//No, wait again. That last bit's unfair. Maybe Aya just is such a novice—shit, I think he might even have been a virgin when he threw me against that brick wall that first night---that he hasn't a clue what to do other than stick his dick in my ass or my mouth? I mean, it seems like he's really and truly gay unlike Mr. “I'll Do Anybody Anytime Anyway” Kudou. So maybe he's still closeted---except for me---and that would mean he really doesn't know there's more to it than just screwing.//
A second and then a third onion-induced tear cascaded down Ken's cheek unheeded as he sighed thoughtfully.
//When I think of it that way, Aya really needs me more than Yohji does and that ought to count for something if it comes down to me picking just one or the other. Granted, neither one has said anything to me about doing that. I just think I'd feel less like a fool again if I did. Hell, I felt that way---and worse---back when Kase used me as badly as he did before I almost died in that fire. Bastard.//
Once again, Ken's trusty Santoku blade came to halt.
Unaware that he had become a very vision of mournfulness, his head hung down as though he no longer had the strength to hold it upright. The now freely flowing tears drizzled like rain onto the vegetable peels in the sink. Whether or not the onions alone could still be blamed for all of them was something he never even considered.
It wasn't often that he allowed himself to reflect on the demeaning horrors that his first lover had visited upon him, but for only a moment, Ken did so now.
Images of himself as an underage player lying to get into the soccer league that he so desperately desired resurrected themselves. Kase Kouichiro had approached him and acted very much like a big brother, helping the eager lad falsify documents so he could play anyway.
Out of gratitude, Ken had tumbled into bed with the older man who gladly stole his virginity as well as any shred of innocence that the child that he had once been could have claimed.
From the very beginning, Kase told the young teen that “love” was an immature fantasy fostered by fairy tales, Disney movies, and shoujo manga. Since it suited his purposes for the boy to believe such blatant lies, he insisted that the adult that Ken wanted to be treated as would view sex as an end unto itself. Regrettably, this horrible deception continued to color his view of the world of romance even now.
Within a matter of months, Ken became Kase's completely submissive and obedient sexual toy. A broken toy, at that.
Before it all ended so horribly badly two years in the past, Ken had even found himself on all fours at what he later realized was a yakuza party. There, he endured being forced to suck strange men's cocks and then later letting them live out their perverted fantasies all the while Kase smiled, and told him to simply bear it. After all, these men supposedly held the key to the goalkeeper's future in the J-League, so if they wanted to beat him, screw him, or even piss on his face, Ken would simply have to take it.
No, Ken absolutely couldn't bear to even imagine ever seeing himself live in such a manner again, but his current lifestyle of post-mission sex with either of the eldest members of Weiss was a little too close to it.
Snapping out of this depressing series of memories and wiping his now tear-soaked face on his sleeve, Ken snuffled back the thickness in his nose hoping no one would ever know the truth about his sexual history. He was comfortable with being openly gay, but not with being a survivor of that level of abuse.
//No, I'm never going to be anybody's damned “party doll” ever again! It would just be better all the way around if I could settle on one guy or the other.//
With a miserable sniffle, he amended his thoughts.
//Or maybe even just sit down with both of them and make sure we all agree about what these weird sexual encounters mean to any of us. Shit, I'd just be happy if *either* of them would talk about that with me! In the last couple of weeks, it's gotten to the point where after just about every mission I end up with a dick in my butt. Not that I mind, they both seem to really need it at times and so do I, but still…//
Deep brown eyes that were growing red from crying clenched tightly shut as if to wring away the moisture filling them as he asserted to himself the simple truth.
//We need to sort this all out. Especially Aya and me. I'm not really sure I understand how that happened in the first place….//
Ken had intended to return his attention to the aromatic pile of onions in front of him. But the half that had yet to be diced simply lay there while his mind replayed the first time that Aya had claimed all of his body and at least a part of his heart. Sadly, it had been done with a total lack of skill and the timing of it was such that Yohji never even had a fighting chance to help ease the pain.
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To be continued…