Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ A Matter of Control ❯ Part I - The Bet (Omi) ( Chapter 1 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Saanrio 
Choices are what shape our lives, even those where we don't really have a choice to make.
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 05.25.2007 | Updated On: 07.11.2008 | Pages: 3 | Words: 7.8K | Visits: 520 | Status: Work In Progress
Choices are what shape our lives, even those where we don't really have a choice to make.
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 05.25.2007 | Updated On: 07.11.2008 | Pages: 3 | Words: 7.8K | Visits: 520 | Status: Work In Progress
Disclaimer: Weiss Kreuz and all of its characters do not belong to me, they are the property of Takehito Koyasu and Project Weiss. No profit is made from this story.
Author's note: This begins between episode 21 & 22 of the original series. I have stretched the timeline so that Omi is 18 in this story.
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"Kiss Yohji."
"What?" Omi stared in shock at Ken, glad he had suggested they come down to the mission room instead of discussing this in the shop.
"You heard me. Kiss. Yohji."
"That seems like a little much, Ken, it was just a silly bet. I thought you'd just have me take your shift one day or something. I didn't sign on for this."
"Too late, Omi. We agreed that the loser would do whatever the winner asked, and this is what I'm asking." Ken watched Omi squirming in his chair, the gears of his brain furiously trying to find a way out. "Of course, I could always offer an alternative."
Omi looked at Ken suspiciously. "Like what?"
Ken watched Omi squirm even more as he grinned down at the other boy. "Work your next shift in just your apron."
Omi flushed red. "Ken! You are insane!"
"Those are the choices, Omi."
"Fine, I'll do it. I was going to take him some dinner, anyway." Omi started to stand up to leave, his mind already planning a way to limit his humiliation. There was no way Yohji could ever have any interest in Omi, and kissing him would just be too painful knowing there would never be any more. A kiss on the cheek would fulfill Ken's terms and leave Omi in the clear. Even if Yohji thought he was weird, he wouldn't be completely humiliated.
"Omi, it has to be on the lips. No kissing him on the cheek."
Omi knew his mouth was hanging open, but he didn't care. All he could do was stare at Ken. Was the other boy reading his mind? What next, he'd want proof?
"But we need a way to prove you did it."
"What?" Omi shrieked. This was just too much, and Omi sat back down on the chair in front of his computer. "You can't just take my word on it?"
"On a mission, sure, but not on something like this." Ken made a show of scratching his head and thinking. "I know, while you're kissing him, make sure to give him a hickey. Yohji hasn't gone out for a whole week, I'm sure the last one he got is gone by now, or enough to tell the difference, at least."
Omi just shook his head. He couldn't believe the things he got himself into. He was never getting into another bet without making sure the terms were completely laid out in advance. "Fine, whatever." He got up to leave and heard Ken calling out as he went up the stairs.
"And, Omi, you can't tell him about the bet until after."
Omi growled something derogatory about Ken's parentage under his breath and went upstairs to call for takeout and strategize.
After calling for the take out and leaving his door open so he'd hear anyone coming or going, Omi sat on the bed in his room and tried to come up with some sort of a plan. He still couldn't believe that Ken had the audacity to push this on him, especially so soon after- Omi stood, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. It had been three weeks since Yohji had been forced to kill Neu, and he had slipped into a deeper funk every day. At first, he had still gone out, though none of them had a clue what he was doing. One night a week before he hadn't come home until dawn. Omi had been staying awake, waiting for Yohji to come home and had watched silently from the shadows as Yohji made his way slowly upstairs. When he had stumbled and seemed about to pass out halfway up the last flight, Omi had hurried out and helped him the rest of the way and got him into his bed. He hadn't even noticed Omi was there.
He'd been keeping a close eye on Yohji, trying to ignore the attraction he felt. A thought briefly crossed his mind but he rejected it without giving it serious consideration. Ken had no idea how Omi felt about Yohji, no one did because Omi was careful to keep it under control. The last thing he needed was to be teased for falling for their notorious lothario of a teammate. There was nothing more to this bet than that Ken knew Omi was still very inexperienced and wanted to have some very ill-timed fun at his expense. Since Yohji barely noticed when Omi brought him food and pestered him into eating some of it, Omi doubted he would notice being kissed, or anything else short of Omi sticking his hand down Yohji's pants. The chances of rejection were low, but the pain of that rejection would be high, Omi knew.
When he saw the delivery boy running up the stairs, Omi grabbed his wallet and paid him, then locked his own door behind him and took a deep breath, catching sight of Ken standing at the bottom of the stairs, watching him and talking to someone standing just out of sight. Probably Aya, Omi realized. He had noticed the two becoming closer lately, but hadn't thought much of it.
He walked up the stairs and knocked on Yohji's door, straining his ears for any noise on the other side of the door. He knocked louder and heard a muffled noise, so he opened the door with the extra key he'd taken to carrying with him in the last week and cautiously looked inside. He could see Yohji lying on the bed, in almost the same spot he'd left him in yesterday. He set the bag with the take out on the coffee table in front of the sofa and approached the bed. He smiled. Yohji had changed his clothes and his hair looked clean tonight. Apparently he had been listening when Omi had threatened to drag him outside and turn the hose on him if he didn't shower today.
"Yohji, I brought you some dinner. I got your favorites from the noodle place, come have some." When Yohji didn't move, he reached down and grabbed Yohji's forearm, tugging until he groaned.
"All right, Omi, I'm coming."
Omi went back to the sofa and started taking the containers of food out of the bag, setting one aside for himself and opening the rest, hoping to entice Yohji to eat more than a few bites. Yohji did get up without any more urgings from Omi, which was better than yesterday, and started to eat after only a brief pause once he sat down. He still wasn't eating with the enthusiasm Omi remembered him attacking these dishes before, but it was still an improvement. Omi wasn't about to get his hopes up too high, though. It still looked as though Yohji wasn't sleeping much, the circles under his normally bright green eyes were darker, and the eyes themselves seemed dull and distant. Omi looked back down at his own food, picking at it with the chopsticks.
"Yohji, are you feeling any better today?" Sighing as his words were met with silence, he decided to try a different tactic, hoping to get a reaction. "Yohji, you look like hell." Nothing. No reaction at all. Normally, insulting Yohji's looks got him at least a glance.
Frustrated, Omi stood up and started to pace, completely unnoticed. He really didn't want to go through with the kiss. He'd agreed to it, but would doing a shift in just the apron really be so bad? He looked at Yohji again. On the one hand, it could be considered taking advantage of Yohji's state of mind, if anyone ever found out how Omi felt. But, it just might be what would shake Yohji up enough to break him out of his depression just a little bit. Maybe he just needed to know it was possible someone else might love him. Maybe he'll like it, a small part of Omi whispered.
Taking a deep breath and pushing down his reservations as much as he could, he walked over and kneeled on the floor next to where Yohji sat on the edge of the couch. He hadn't touched his food since Omi stood up, and Omi gently took the box from his hand and set it on the table. Omi put one hand under Yohji's chin and coaxed his head up enough for Omi to look in Yohji's eyes. What he saw there, that dead look, made him want to cry for Yohji and kill Neu all over again for what she had done to him. It hardened his resolve and he leaned forward, his eyes watching Yohji's expression, and pressed his lips to Yohji's.
Omi closed his eyes, nearly overwhelmed. He hadn't imagined Yohji's lips would be so soft and warm, and the light warmth of his breath on Omi's cheek was heaven. Omi sighed, parting his lips slightly and pressing closer. He felt Yohji's hands settle on his arms and his eyes flew open. Yohji was looking at him with surprise on his face, the emotion actually starting to show in his eyes, and Omi caught his breath at the ache that started in his chest. He'd managed to get Yohji's attention, but this was where Yohji would push him away, say he wasn't interested in boys, and tell Omi to get out.
Omi started to pull back, his lips leaving Yohji's, only to feel Yohji's hands flex on his arms and pull him close. He sucked in a surprised breath as he realized that Yohji's lips were parting and he was deepening the kiss. He opened his lips further under the insistent urging and gasped as he felt Yohji's tongue touch his. He had never gone beyond simple, chaste kisses, and the feel of Yohji's talented tongue stroking his had him hard and aching in an instant. He moaned as one of Yohji's hands left his arm to tangle in the hair at the back of his neck, tilting his head to a better angle as Yohji continued the assault on Omi's mouth.
Omi was lost in the kiss, quickly becoming a creature of desires and needs, no longer caring that there were a thousand reasons he shouldn't be doing this, no longer even recalling the reason he had done this in the first place. The only thing that mattered was that it felt so perfect, so good, and he didn't want it to stop. He wanted more, and soon he let his hands drift from their resting place on his knees to Yohji's chest, flattening out over the smooth muscles under his shirt and drifting up to Yohji's shoulders. He dimly felt a pair of strong arms circle him and then he was being pulled forward as Yohji leaned back into the couch, pulling Omi onto his lap and settling him so he was straddling Yohji's hips. Omi heard someone moan as Yohji shifted, grinding their hips together, pressing his own erection against a matching hardness.
Yohji's hands drifted up under Omi's shirt, and Omi discovered he was the one who was making the small cries of pleasure he heard as Yohji's fingers caressed his back, pressing his hips down so they ground against Yohji, increasing the friction. A harsh cry sounded as Omi threw his head back, the combination of pleasures more than his inexperienced body could take as he quickly found release. Overwhelmed, he rested his head on Yohji's shoulder, ashamed and confused. He'd thought it was supposed to take longer than that. It had felt really good, but was that all there was? He started to shift himself off of Yohji's lap only to feel something hard digging into his hip and he realized Yohji was still hard.
He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped when Yohji shifted, guiding Omi to stand, then standing himself and grabbing Omi's wrist, pulling him toward the bed. Omi's breath caught. Did Yohji really know who he was, or was he caught up in some fantasy? He wanted to say something, but found the words stuck in his throat. He opened his mouth to try to speak again, but stopped as he saw Yohji's hands lift and start to undo the tie that held his shirt together in front.
"Yohji?" Omi looked up, wanting to make sure he was doing the right thing, that he wasn't taking advantage.
Bright green eyes filled his vision as Yohji leaned down, resting his forehead against Omi's, moving his hands to gently hold Omi's face. "Do you want me to stop, Omi? I want more, but if you don't-"
Omi was caught and he knew it. There was no way he was going to ask Yohji to stop, not if he knew who Omi was and wanted more. He shook his head. "No, Yohji, don't stop, please."
Yohji chuckled, soft and low and his fingers went back to the tie on Omi's shirt, his lips returning to Omi's, leaving light teasing kisses that were driving Omi crazy. He felt the shirt slide off his shoulders, and Yohji broke their kiss for a brief moment while he threw his own shirt off. Then Yohji was kissing him again, deep, drugging kisses that had Omi feeling like he was floating. Yohji pressed him back onto the bed, and Omi gasped at the first touch of Yohji's naked chest on his, throwing his head back. He heard Yohji chuckle as his mouth moved down the column of Omi's throat, stopping to suck at the pulse point, then continuing further. Omi moaned as Yohji nibbled and sucked at his collarbone, the sensations all new and even more incredible than he had thought they might be.
Yohji's questing fingers found one of Omi's nipples and teased it to hardness, and then his mouth followed the path of his fingers, licking and nuzzling at the hardened nub. Omi arched his back, looking for more of the touch as Yohji kissed his way across Omi's chest to the other nipple. Yohji's hands were drifting lower, teasing and stroking across the exposed skin of Omi's stomach and then working at the waistband of his jeans. Omi continued to make small sounds of pleasure, his hands caught in Yohji's hair and twitching with every new sensation.
Yohji slid Omi's jeans and boxers down his legs and dropped them off the side of the bed, then grabbed Omi's wrists, bringing them up over Omi's head and holding them in one hand while distracting Omi with another of those addicting kisses. He guided Omi's hands to the slats of the headboard and whispered to him to hold on. Omi gripped the headboard, a shiver traveling down his body as Yohji again trailed his lips down Omi's neck and chest, pausing here and there to nibble or suck. Omi was panting as Yohji's hands trailed down his thighs, sliding up the inside as he deftly spread Omi's legs wide and settled between them.
Omi nearly screamed when Yohji's mouth closed over the head of his aching cock, all sensation seeming to tighten to that one spot on his body. He held on to the headboard, but only as leverage so he could thrust up into the hot mouth surrounding him. Never had he thought anything would feel this good, and he started to move faster, his eyes closed, reveling in the sensations. Dimly, he felt a hand caressing his ass and a small bit of pressure, but it faded into nothing as Yohji pulled back so Omi was almost out of his mouth, then took him in again, so deep Omi could feel the muscles of Yohji's throat closing around him. It was all too much and he exploded with a hoarse shout. He felt his hands clench on the headboard and his back arched, his vision going gray on the edges and he squeezed his eyes closed and nearly sobbed.
It took a long moment for him to realize he was still awake and that Yohji had moved up to cover his body with his own. He opened his eyes as Yohji kissed him again, the slightly bitter taste of Yohji's mouth confusing for a brief minute, and then making him blush as he realized he was tasting his own release. He shifted his hips slightly, then gasped. Yohji kissed him again, quieting him, before Omi moaned out "Yohji, what is it?"
"Easy, Omi, it's ok, I just have to prepare you. I don't want to hurt you." Another long kiss and Omi moaned again as Yohji slowly moved his fingers in and out. It wasn't unpleasant, was in fact beginning to feel very good, it was just so very different. He had never heard of this, never known exactly how two men were supposed to make love, but he'd said he wanted it, and he meant it. If it was something Yohji wanted, he was willing. He focused on the wonderful kisses Yohji was giving him, until Yohji twisted his fingers a bit and Omi saw stars as pleasure spiked from his ass to his groin, setting him on fire and making him harden all over again. A few more twists of his fingers and then they withdrew, leaving Omi feeling suddenly and unexplainably empty. He opened his eyes and watched as Yohji stood and took off his pants, gasping as he saw Yohji's cock. He watched as Yohji knelt back down, settling on his knees between Omi's legs. Yohji picked up a tube of clear gel he must have gotten while Omi was distracted and squeezed some into his hand, spreading it on his cock before catching Omi's lips in another kiss and guiding himself into Omi.
Omi felt something much larger than Yohji's fingers had felt begin to press into him, and felt himself stretching almost painfully and started to panic. It was too big, it would never work, it was going to hurt... Yohji kissed him again, then broke off the kiss to whisper soothingly to him, calming him as he pressed into Omi slowly. Omi clutched Yohji's shoulders as the panic receded and the pleasure started to return, overriding the little bits of pain. He felt the ache in his cock, and the pleasure of being filled and stretched and moaned as Yohji stopped the incredibly slow sensation. His lips were claimed again, and then Yohji started to move. Slowly, he felt the fullness subside, leaving him feeling bereft and empty, and then it returned just as slowly. Omi moaned and sighed as Yohji moved, the slow give and take playing havoc with his breathing as he wanted to moan and gasp and kiss Yohji all at the same time.
Yohji's strokes sped up as it went on and he guided Omi's legs around his waist and then he hit that spot again and Omi screamed, almost coming off the bed beneath Yohji as his vision filled with sparks and his ears were filled with Yohji's harsh breathing. A hand made it's way between them and grasped Omi's straining erection and pumped. Omi let out a long, harsh shout as Yohji pumped him inside and out and he came in a rush, dimly hearing Yohji's own shout as he rapidly lost any sense of where or even who he was.
When his mind started to function on more than a basic level, Omi found himself on his side beneath the blankets, Yohji's naked body cuddled up to his back and one long arm around his waist. He started to shift, wanting to see Yohji's face, but stopped when he heard a soft whisper. "Shush, pretty boy, just relax and rest, we'll talk later." Omi lay back down, resting his head on the pillow and feeling Yohji's breath on the back of his neck as he drifted off to sleep.
Omi woke sometime in the night, disoriented. It took a moment for him to remember why he wasn't in his own bed and why he was sore, and then another moment to realize what had woken him. Yohji had shifted away from him while he slept and was moaning and twitching in his sleep. Omi reached for Yohji, wanting to soothe the nightmare away and found himself clutched to Yohji's chest. Omi heard Yohji's breathing harsh in his ear and only barely caught the quietly whispered words. "Asuka, don't ever leave me again... Cant live without you."
Omi froze, a feeling like a lead weight settling in the vicinity of his heart. In spite of what had happened, Yohji was still in love with Asuka - apparently believing Omi to be her in his sleep. Omi knew he had been silly to think anything else, but he had dared to hope that maybe Yohji had found a new reason to go on, and he had held the small hope that he would want Omi to be a bigger part of his life. He felt those foolish hopes shattered with a few words, and untangled himself from Yohji as quickly as possible without waking him and put on his clothes, not bothering to do up the ties on his shirt as he left Yohji's apartment and went as quickly as he could to his own without running. He locked the door once he got inside, then fell onto the bed still clothed and gave into the tears he had been fighting.
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Omi woke slowly, a dull pounding in his head bringing him fully awake finally. He rolled to his back, the night before coming in waves of guilty memory. He still couldn't believe he had done that, had actually entertained that anything that good was bound to mean Yohji loved him. His cheeks flamed as he sat up. Given his experience, it probably wasn't nearly as much fun as Yohji usually had. After all, a partner who knew what they were doing, who knew how to give pleasure back had to be better than some virgin who didn't even know how to kiss yet. He shook his head at his own thoughts. This was Yohji, after all. None of his relationships lasted longer than a month at most, and most never made it to the next morning.
He took a clean shirt and pair of jeans out of the dresser at the end of the bed and glanced at the clock. It was still early enough that even Aya shouldn't be up yet. He had time for a shower before going down to open the shop. He sighed, thinking of the relief the hot water would bring to stiff muscles. He slipped out of his room and down the hall to the bathroom, glad to see no one. He wanted to be clean before he ran into Aya. Yohji would likely spend all day moping in his room so he wouldn't have to see him, and he didn't want to speak to Ken at all. He started the shower running, turning toward the mirror to start undressing while he waited for the water to warm.
He slipped the shirt off his shoulders and stopped, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He turned and faced it more completely, his eyes drawn to the livid purple splotches on his collarbone. His eyes narrowed in slight annoyance. He had the 'evidence' Ken had requested, though he had absolutely no intention of showing it to him. He would have to get another shirt from his room before he went downstairs, the one he had grabbed wouldn't cover the marks, and there was no mistaking what they were. He didn't think he could take the disappointment that he was sure he would see if Aya saw them.
He showered quickly, and saw no one when he went back to his room to toss the dirty clothes in the hamper and get another shirt. He was glad the week had been rather cool, it wouldn't seem so odd for him to wear a shirt with a higher collar. Finally dressed he glanced at the clock again and headed downstairs to the shop, since he had volunteered for the morning shift, having a rare day off from school during the week.
The morning went quickly enough with just him and Aya. Aya never spoke very much, Omi was busy helping customers most of the time and the two were used to working together and rarely felt the silence was uncomfortable when it fell. They each seemed to enjoy the quiet to think their own thoughts. Ken came in a little before noon, and Omi tried to find something to do to keep him in the main part of the shop with Aya. He didn't want to talk to Ken; he didn't want to have the conversation he knew was coming. When Aya asked him to fetch a vase from the storeroom for a customer, he floundered for a moment. He couldn't find a polite way to refuse, and he didn't miss Ken making an excuse to go with him.
He went to the shelves and was looking for the vase Aya had asked for when Ken asked his question.
"So, did you do it?"
Omi felt a swell of anger and shame wash over him and he clenched one hand into a fist to avoid slamming it into the shelf. His answer was sharp, but he doubted Ken would notice. Ken could be remarkably obtuse when he was set on something. "I don't want to talk about it, Ken."
"Come on, we had a bet. Since you're wearing more than your apron, I'm guessing you did, but..."
He barely caught back the growl he wanted to send over his shoulder. "I don't want to talk about it, Ken. Leave it be!"
"Omi, you have to tell me, did you go through with it?"
Omi whirled, anger making his eyes flash, but Ken didn't seem to notice. "It's none of your business, Ken."
"Yes, it is." Omi stared in shock at Ken, who was actually smiling. "So talk, did you do it?"
Omi felt his anger overwhelm him. How dare Ken ask that of him? If it hadn't been for Ken, he would have just taken Yohji his dinner, he never would have kissed him, and he certainly never would have had sex with him. He raised his hands, struggling with the buttons on his shirt because his hands were shaking, his resolve of the morning falling away. If Ken was so set on seeing proof of the humiliation and lingering hurt Omi was struggling to control, then so be it. Let him see what he had caused, let him see the marks that bore their silent witness to the last piece of innocence Omi had had left, that he had given so willingly and so foolishly.
"Fine! You need proof? Look! This proof enough for you, Ken?" He pulled his shirt aside, revealing the livid marks, feeling an odd sense of satisfaction at the look of shock on Ken's face before he turned and left, the vase left behind. He turned the corner to tell Aya he couldn't find the vase, and froze. Yohji was standing in the shadows near the stairs. Omi felt his anger evaporate faster than it had built, leaving only the hurt in its place. He knew the marks were left bare now and saw Yohji's eye drop to them.
Ken came out of the storeroom behind him and almost bumped into him. Omi watched as Yohji's gaze shifted to Ken and his face twisted. Yohji leapt forward, his hands twisting in Ken's shirt as he shoved Ken back against the wall, snarling. Omi was pushed aside and only stood watching, surprised and feeling at a loss for what to do. He could feel Aya's gaze boring into him from behind, assessing to see if he needed to intervene.
"Getting your kicks, Ken?" Yohji's voice was an angry hiss as he pressed Ken back against the wall. "Having fun at my expense, or was it Omi you wanted to humiliate?" He pushed Ken back again as it seemed like he would try to speak, apparently too angry to hear anything Ken had to say. "I can't believe this is how you treat a friend. Fuck with Omi like this again, and I'll kick your ass."
As suddenly as it had started, Yohji let go of Ken and turned, grabbing Omi's wrist as he passed and tugging him along behind. Omi didn't argue, he knew by now Aya would want to ask him what was going on and he needed an excuse to avoid him right now. Since Yohji had evidently decided Omi was his for the moment, he went along, taking the escape for what it was. Yohji dragged him up the stairs and finally let go of him in front of Omi's door. Deciding it was impossible Yohji hadn't heard at least part of what had been said, he knew he needed to find out just how much damage had been done.
"Yohji-kun, how much did you hear?"
Yohji didn't answer right away, busying himself with getting a cigarette lit and not looking at Omi. When he finally spoke, he looked up at Omi and the hurt in his expression seemed to match what Omi was feeling. "Enough, I think. So, Ken put you up to last night, hmm? Were you supposed to seduce me or was I just too easy?"
"Yohji," Omi shook his head, then started again. "Yohji, Ken made the suggestion, but I didn't- Ken only wanted me to kiss you, it just gave me the courage to do something I've wanted to do for a while now."
Yohji was shaking his head. "I shouldn't have done it, Omi, I'm sorry."
"Why not? I kissed you, I told you not to stop. I never said I didn't want it."
"No, Omi, I took advantage of you. You were innocent and I used that."
Omi smiled sadly, tilting his head to one side. "I haven't been exactly innocent for a while, Yohji. Not with what Weiss does."
Yohji exhaled a plume of smoke with his sigh. "That's not what I meant and you know it, Omi. You were a virgin, and you're only seventeen. It was wrong."
Omi felt his anger flare again. "So you won't date a girl who isn't eighteen, but you'll fuck a boy you *think* is younger than that?"
Omi felt a sort of raw, bitter satisfaction at seeing Yohji flinch at his words. He felt it intensify when they sank in. "Yeah, Yohji, I'm eighteen now. My birthday was three months ago, in case you were wondering. So don't go adding to your guilt over me. I knew what I wanted, and I got it. So did you."
He turned, storming back down the stairs and ripping his apron off as he went. He went quickly through the shop, dimly noting Aya and Ken's angry expressions as he tossed the apron on the counter and announced curtly that he was going out. He heard Ken shout his name, asking him to stop, but he just kept going. He needed space, time and a place to think.
He ended up at a coffee shop he had never been to before. Hoping it was far enough away that no one he recognized would be there he went inside and got a small table for himself in the corner, thanking the waitress who brought him a menu. He waited until she walked away before checking his wallet, hoping he had some money with him. He didn't have much, but it would be enough for some tea and a small snack. He ordered when the girl came back a minute later and looked out the window next to him.
The anger had burned away on the walk here, and he was left only with the hurt and the humiliation. He thought back on what he had told Yohji and still felt that sense of bitter satisfaction that he had managed to shake the man. His words had been on point, and it disgusted Omi to realize it. He didn't know if it meant Yohji had been that attracted to Omi and had been caught in a moment of weakness, or if there was just something in Yohji that saw a difference between a seventeen year old girl and a boy of the same age. He didn't think it really mattered either way, since he doubted there would ever be a chance to repeat the experience, even if he did want to, especially after what he had said.
It dimly occurred to Omi that part of the difference might have to do with what they did together on an unfortunately regular basis. He'd been killing since before Yohji joined Weiss, and that did seem to make them all assume he was not as innocent as he looked. Of course, the fact that he planned their missions, wrote the emotionless and methodical mission reports for Kritiker and managed to keep his personal demons at an arm's length probably helped sometimes, too. His teammates had all been skeptical when they first joined the team to find that one of their number was still in high school and had been killing longer than they had. All of them had expressed to varying degrees that they thought Omi too young, too innocent to do what they did. One mission had been enough for each of them to never mention it again. One mission had also been enough to make them all question that judgment all over again.
It had been Aya's censure that hurt the most. Yohji and Ken had been annoyed and obviously mistrustful, but had tried in their own distant ways to help him deal with it. Aya had been furious, and Omi had been sure it was only the threat of what might happen to his sister that had kept him from gutting Omi on the spot when Hirofumi had escaped. Aya's anger and avoidance had been worse than having to detail himself as the cause of the mission's failure, worse than Manx's relay of Persia's disappointment. Omi closed his eyes briefly. Thinking of the uncle who had taken him after his father's rejection, who had given him a new name and a new life and taught him to kill, still brought mixed emotions and confusing obligations. He turned to look out the window, watching the people passing on the street as a way to avoid thinking anymore.
By the time he finished his snack and the last dregs of his third cup of tea were sitting cold in the bottom of the cup, he felt settled enough to go back to the shop. Aya had planned to spend the entire day in the shop, since Yohji hadn't come down to help in more than a week. Ken was supposed to help him in the afternoon, leaving Omi free to study for his upcoming exams, but he didn't feel up to studying. He supposed, since he planned on staying in the shop that afternoon, that he should tell Aya to go. But the thought lingered that he didn't want to speak to Ken, didn't want to be trapped alone with him in the shop. He hoped Aya would understand.
When he arrived at the shop, Ken was sweeping up the remains of a glass vase that had fallen on the ground and assuring the flustered young girl that there was nothing to worry about, it must have been too close to the edge. Omi sighed and shook his head. Those vases were not cheap, but Ken never did make one of the customers that broke them pay for them. Maybe they should look into getting plastic ones that wouldn't shatter for the displays. He saw Aya surrounded by a group of giggling girls, and went behind the counter to look for his apron. It had been folded and placed neatly on a shelf, most likely by Aya, and he picked it up and put it on, calling out that he could help someone.
The time passed quickly with the afternoon rushes coming in one after the other, and Omi was relieved when finally Aya was ushering the last customers out and pulling down the metal grate over the doors. He took up a broom, and started sweeping, determined to ignore Ken, who seemed intent on getting his attention without attracting Aya's. Omi gave a silent sigh of relief when Aya suggested Ken go order something for dinner, even offered to pay to get the other man out of the shop. Omi had been trying to get him to leave since he'd come back, to no avail. Omi kept sweeping, his eyes on the floor, having guessed he was going to have to explain himself and his admittedly strange behavior today. He wasn't known for leaving in the middle of his shift, having sudden outbursts, or avoiding his teammates, but he had been doing all of those things today.
Omi kept sweeping, and Aya waited patiently to say anything until he was done counting out the day's cash and putting it away in the safe. Once Omi put away the broom and was making a last check of the plants and displays, he felt Aya watching him. He stopped, took a deep breath and turned, letting Aya know he was ready to talk.
"Ken told me about the bet."
Omi felt his face heat and ducked his head. "Did he? And what else did Ken tell you?"
"Omi, Ken had good intentions, even if it may not seem so. He knew you liked Yohji, and he hoped it might get Yohji out of his depression. He was trying to play matchmaker."
Omi chuckled, though it sounded a bit forced and choked even to his ears. "Well, he was right, I don't think Yohji's just depressed about Asuka now." He sighed, leaning back against the counter. "Aya, Yohji didn't know... he thought I was still seventeen. I wasn't very nice about it when I pointed out the mistake."
"So, you did sleep with him? Ken thought it hadn't gone beyond kissing."
Omi only nodded. As awkward as it was to admit it, he wanted Aya at least to know. Aya had been the only person on the team who really bothered to get to know him well. Yohji teased and joked, but their relationship was only superficial at best. Ken was more interested in soccer and the neighborhood kids than Omi, though he had to question that now, if Ken had been watching him closely enough to know he had a crush on Yohji. Aya had bothered to find out little things like his birthday, or his favorite food. Aya had been the one whose good opinion Omi had wanted so badly when he had first found out he was a part of the Takatori family. It had been Aya's acceptance he had sought more than anyone else's. He heard a soft step against the concrete floor and looked up to see Aya had moved over to stand directly in front of him, and his hand was raised to Omi's collar. Omi tilted his head in acceptance, and Aya gently pulled away the collar of his shirt to reveal the marks Yohji had left him with.
"Did you at least enjoy your first time?" Aya asked as he let his hand drop. Omi nodded, and Aya said then, "Good. Now you can move on and find someone worthy of you."
Omi looked up and after a minute he smiled, just slightly. "Thank you, Aya-kun." Aya just nodded and the two walked out of the shop, locking the door behind them for the night.
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Omi looked up from the screen of the laptop in front of him. He had settled here in this cafe as instructed, though he still didn't know why Manx had wanted to see him away from the rest of the team. After the events at the Ani Museum a few months before, Aya's sister was helping Momoe-san with the shop and Weiss had been left to other pursuits, missions that required more intense surveillance, more work. Manx still met with all four of them when there was a mission, and they never did solo work now, Kritiker apparently believing it wasn't worth the risk. Omi was currently working on his application for university. He had been too busy with Weiss during the last few months of high school to do the things like this he needed to in order to continue his education, but now that he had some free time in his day he intended to make sure he got in, even if he had to wait for the winter classes to begin instead of starting in the fall.
His eyes caught a flash of red hair at the entrance to the cafe and he stood to greet Manx as she walked over to him. He smiled, but it was slightly tense as he noticed her smile was lacking something.
"Hello, Manx, it is good to see you again," he greeted, motioning to the table in invitation, waiting until she had seated herself to resume his seat.
"Hello, Omi. I have something important to discuss with you. Your grandfather has sent me."
"My grandfather?" Omi blinked. Of all the many things that had gone through his mind, he had never thought that his grandfather would have been the reason for this visit.
"Yes, he wishes for you to accept your place as Takatori Mamoru and his eventual heir." She paused, noting the shocked look on Omi's face, but then continued, and Omi shook himself mentally to follow what she was saying. "He will arrange for you to attend a university of his choosing, will give you the four years to adjust to your new duties, increasing them as time goes on. When you are finished, you would be presented to society and take up the mantle of Persia."
"Persia?" Omi stubbornly resisted the urge to pinch himself. He needed time, to think, to say goodbye. He gasped as he realized he would accept. He had been feeling unsettled for months. He had been at odds with Yohji and Ken since Ken's attempt to 'help' both him and Yohji, and it seemed that Yohji still wasn't quite over Omi's harsh words on their morning after. Ken had tried to repair the little bit of friendship they'd had, even going so far as to offer a bet where he had to try to kiss Aya. While tempted, Omi had stuck to his resolve never to bet with Ken again and the tension between the two remained. Yohji had been distant, no longer teasing Omi over the number of girls who sighed over him, or staying up late surfing the net. Part of Omi missed the teasing, knowing that at least then, Yohji had shown some interest in what Omi did. Now, though, it seemed more like he'd gotten Omi into bed and lost interest, just like he did with a new woman every week or two. It seemed as though the only one he had any connection to was Aya, but even that connection was becoming slightly strained as Omi had repeatedly urged him to visit Aya-chan and he stubbornly refused, believing the girl to be better off if she thought him dead in the rubble of the Ani Museum. Omi blinked and looked back to Manx.
"How soon? Do I get to say goodbye?"
Manx sighed, her look becoming sad. "No, it was your grandfather's wish that you spend tonight with him if you accept, and leave on the next available flight. He wants the break with Weiss to be clean and swift. You are allowed to bring your laptop, and your weapons will be sent to you. You will be given a clothing allowance, and enough to support you in a manner befitting the Takatori heir."
Omi didn't speak for a moment, and turned to look out the window. No one had been home when he left to meet Manx, and if he didn't come back, would they think he had just walked away? Wasn't that what he was going to do? Yohji and Ken wouldn't understand his decision, but Aya would. Aya understood how important family was. Aya would understand he had to take this chance to be a part of his family, regardless of his past.
"Manx, when you retrieve my weapons, please tell Aya... Tell him I had to put my family first."
{End Part 1 - Omi}
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Author's note: This begins between episode 21 & 22 of the original series. I have stretched the timeline so that Omi is 18 in this story.
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"Kiss Yohji."
"What?" Omi stared in shock at Ken, glad he had suggested they come down to the mission room instead of discussing this in the shop.
"You heard me. Kiss. Yohji."
"That seems like a little much, Ken, it was just a silly bet. I thought you'd just have me take your shift one day or something. I didn't sign on for this."
"Too late, Omi. We agreed that the loser would do whatever the winner asked, and this is what I'm asking." Ken watched Omi squirming in his chair, the gears of his brain furiously trying to find a way out. "Of course, I could always offer an alternative."
Omi looked at Ken suspiciously. "Like what?"
Ken watched Omi squirm even more as he grinned down at the other boy. "Work your next shift in just your apron."
Omi flushed red. "Ken! You are insane!"
"Those are the choices, Omi."
"Fine, I'll do it. I was going to take him some dinner, anyway." Omi started to stand up to leave, his mind already planning a way to limit his humiliation. There was no way Yohji could ever have any interest in Omi, and kissing him would just be too painful knowing there would never be any more. A kiss on the cheek would fulfill Ken's terms and leave Omi in the clear. Even if Yohji thought he was weird, he wouldn't be completely humiliated.
"Omi, it has to be on the lips. No kissing him on the cheek."
Omi knew his mouth was hanging open, but he didn't care. All he could do was stare at Ken. Was the other boy reading his mind? What next, he'd want proof?
"But we need a way to prove you did it."
"What?" Omi shrieked. This was just too much, and Omi sat back down on the chair in front of his computer. "You can't just take my word on it?"
"On a mission, sure, but not on something like this." Ken made a show of scratching his head and thinking. "I know, while you're kissing him, make sure to give him a hickey. Yohji hasn't gone out for a whole week, I'm sure the last one he got is gone by now, or enough to tell the difference, at least."
Omi just shook his head. He couldn't believe the things he got himself into. He was never getting into another bet without making sure the terms were completely laid out in advance. "Fine, whatever." He got up to leave and heard Ken calling out as he went up the stairs.
"And, Omi, you can't tell him about the bet until after."
Omi growled something derogatory about Ken's parentage under his breath and went upstairs to call for takeout and strategize.
After calling for the take out and leaving his door open so he'd hear anyone coming or going, Omi sat on the bed in his room and tried to come up with some sort of a plan. He still couldn't believe that Ken had the audacity to push this on him, especially so soon after- Omi stood, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. It had been three weeks since Yohji had been forced to kill Neu, and he had slipped into a deeper funk every day. At first, he had still gone out, though none of them had a clue what he was doing. One night a week before he hadn't come home until dawn. Omi had been staying awake, waiting for Yohji to come home and had watched silently from the shadows as Yohji made his way slowly upstairs. When he had stumbled and seemed about to pass out halfway up the last flight, Omi had hurried out and helped him the rest of the way and got him into his bed. He hadn't even noticed Omi was there.
He'd been keeping a close eye on Yohji, trying to ignore the attraction he felt. A thought briefly crossed his mind but he rejected it without giving it serious consideration. Ken had no idea how Omi felt about Yohji, no one did because Omi was careful to keep it under control. The last thing he needed was to be teased for falling for their notorious lothario of a teammate. There was nothing more to this bet than that Ken knew Omi was still very inexperienced and wanted to have some very ill-timed fun at his expense. Since Yohji barely noticed when Omi brought him food and pestered him into eating some of it, Omi doubted he would notice being kissed, or anything else short of Omi sticking his hand down Yohji's pants. The chances of rejection were low, but the pain of that rejection would be high, Omi knew.
When he saw the delivery boy running up the stairs, Omi grabbed his wallet and paid him, then locked his own door behind him and took a deep breath, catching sight of Ken standing at the bottom of the stairs, watching him and talking to someone standing just out of sight. Probably Aya, Omi realized. He had noticed the two becoming closer lately, but hadn't thought much of it.
He walked up the stairs and knocked on Yohji's door, straining his ears for any noise on the other side of the door. He knocked louder and heard a muffled noise, so he opened the door with the extra key he'd taken to carrying with him in the last week and cautiously looked inside. He could see Yohji lying on the bed, in almost the same spot he'd left him in yesterday. He set the bag with the take out on the coffee table in front of the sofa and approached the bed. He smiled. Yohji had changed his clothes and his hair looked clean tonight. Apparently he had been listening when Omi had threatened to drag him outside and turn the hose on him if he didn't shower today.
"Yohji, I brought you some dinner. I got your favorites from the noodle place, come have some." When Yohji didn't move, he reached down and grabbed Yohji's forearm, tugging until he groaned.
"All right, Omi, I'm coming."
Omi went back to the sofa and started taking the containers of food out of the bag, setting one aside for himself and opening the rest, hoping to entice Yohji to eat more than a few bites. Yohji did get up without any more urgings from Omi, which was better than yesterday, and started to eat after only a brief pause once he sat down. He still wasn't eating with the enthusiasm Omi remembered him attacking these dishes before, but it was still an improvement. Omi wasn't about to get his hopes up too high, though. It still looked as though Yohji wasn't sleeping much, the circles under his normally bright green eyes were darker, and the eyes themselves seemed dull and distant. Omi looked back down at his own food, picking at it with the chopsticks.
"Yohji, are you feeling any better today?" Sighing as his words were met with silence, he decided to try a different tactic, hoping to get a reaction. "Yohji, you look like hell." Nothing. No reaction at all. Normally, insulting Yohji's looks got him at least a glance.
Frustrated, Omi stood up and started to pace, completely unnoticed. He really didn't want to go through with the kiss. He'd agreed to it, but would doing a shift in just the apron really be so bad? He looked at Yohji again. On the one hand, it could be considered taking advantage of Yohji's state of mind, if anyone ever found out how Omi felt. But, it just might be what would shake Yohji up enough to break him out of his depression just a little bit. Maybe he just needed to know it was possible someone else might love him. Maybe he'll like it, a small part of Omi whispered.
Taking a deep breath and pushing down his reservations as much as he could, he walked over and kneeled on the floor next to where Yohji sat on the edge of the couch. He hadn't touched his food since Omi stood up, and Omi gently took the box from his hand and set it on the table. Omi put one hand under Yohji's chin and coaxed his head up enough for Omi to look in Yohji's eyes. What he saw there, that dead look, made him want to cry for Yohji and kill Neu all over again for what she had done to him. It hardened his resolve and he leaned forward, his eyes watching Yohji's expression, and pressed his lips to Yohji's.
Omi closed his eyes, nearly overwhelmed. He hadn't imagined Yohji's lips would be so soft and warm, and the light warmth of his breath on Omi's cheek was heaven. Omi sighed, parting his lips slightly and pressing closer. He felt Yohji's hands settle on his arms and his eyes flew open. Yohji was looking at him with surprise on his face, the emotion actually starting to show in his eyes, and Omi caught his breath at the ache that started in his chest. He'd managed to get Yohji's attention, but this was where Yohji would push him away, say he wasn't interested in boys, and tell Omi to get out.
Omi started to pull back, his lips leaving Yohji's, only to feel Yohji's hands flex on his arms and pull him close. He sucked in a surprised breath as he realized that Yohji's lips were parting and he was deepening the kiss. He opened his lips further under the insistent urging and gasped as he felt Yohji's tongue touch his. He had never gone beyond simple, chaste kisses, and the feel of Yohji's talented tongue stroking his had him hard and aching in an instant. He moaned as one of Yohji's hands left his arm to tangle in the hair at the back of his neck, tilting his head to a better angle as Yohji continued the assault on Omi's mouth.
Omi was lost in the kiss, quickly becoming a creature of desires and needs, no longer caring that there were a thousand reasons he shouldn't be doing this, no longer even recalling the reason he had done this in the first place. The only thing that mattered was that it felt so perfect, so good, and he didn't want it to stop. He wanted more, and soon he let his hands drift from their resting place on his knees to Yohji's chest, flattening out over the smooth muscles under his shirt and drifting up to Yohji's shoulders. He dimly felt a pair of strong arms circle him and then he was being pulled forward as Yohji leaned back into the couch, pulling Omi onto his lap and settling him so he was straddling Yohji's hips. Omi heard someone moan as Yohji shifted, grinding their hips together, pressing his own erection against a matching hardness.
Yohji's hands drifted up under Omi's shirt, and Omi discovered he was the one who was making the small cries of pleasure he heard as Yohji's fingers caressed his back, pressing his hips down so they ground against Yohji, increasing the friction. A harsh cry sounded as Omi threw his head back, the combination of pleasures more than his inexperienced body could take as he quickly found release. Overwhelmed, he rested his head on Yohji's shoulder, ashamed and confused. He'd thought it was supposed to take longer than that. It had felt really good, but was that all there was? He started to shift himself off of Yohji's lap only to feel something hard digging into his hip and he realized Yohji was still hard.
He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped when Yohji shifted, guiding Omi to stand, then standing himself and grabbing Omi's wrist, pulling him toward the bed. Omi's breath caught. Did Yohji really know who he was, or was he caught up in some fantasy? He wanted to say something, but found the words stuck in his throat. He opened his mouth to try to speak again, but stopped as he saw Yohji's hands lift and start to undo the tie that held his shirt together in front.
"Yohji?" Omi looked up, wanting to make sure he was doing the right thing, that he wasn't taking advantage.
Bright green eyes filled his vision as Yohji leaned down, resting his forehead against Omi's, moving his hands to gently hold Omi's face. "Do you want me to stop, Omi? I want more, but if you don't-"
Omi was caught and he knew it. There was no way he was going to ask Yohji to stop, not if he knew who Omi was and wanted more. He shook his head. "No, Yohji, don't stop, please."
Yohji chuckled, soft and low and his fingers went back to the tie on Omi's shirt, his lips returning to Omi's, leaving light teasing kisses that were driving Omi crazy. He felt the shirt slide off his shoulders, and Yohji broke their kiss for a brief moment while he threw his own shirt off. Then Yohji was kissing him again, deep, drugging kisses that had Omi feeling like he was floating. Yohji pressed him back onto the bed, and Omi gasped at the first touch of Yohji's naked chest on his, throwing his head back. He heard Yohji chuckle as his mouth moved down the column of Omi's throat, stopping to suck at the pulse point, then continuing further. Omi moaned as Yohji nibbled and sucked at his collarbone, the sensations all new and even more incredible than he had thought they might be.
Yohji's questing fingers found one of Omi's nipples and teased it to hardness, and then his mouth followed the path of his fingers, licking and nuzzling at the hardened nub. Omi arched his back, looking for more of the touch as Yohji kissed his way across Omi's chest to the other nipple. Yohji's hands were drifting lower, teasing and stroking across the exposed skin of Omi's stomach and then working at the waistband of his jeans. Omi continued to make small sounds of pleasure, his hands caught in Yohji's hair and twitching with every new sensation.
Yohji slid Omi's jeans and boxers down his legs and dropped them off the side of the bed, then grabbed Omi's wrists, bringing them up over Omi's head and holding them in one hand while distracting Omi with another of those addicting kisses. He guided Omi's hands to the slats of the headboard and whispered to him to hold on. Omi gripped the headboard, a shiver traveling down his body as Yohji again trailed his lips down Omi's neck and chest, pausing here and there to nibble or suck. Omi was panting as Yohji's hands trailed down his thighs, sliding up the inside as he deftly spread Omi's legs wide and settled between them.
Omi nearly screamed when Yohji's mouth closed over the head of his aching cock, all sensation seeming to tighten to that one spot on his body. He held on to the headboard, but only as leverage so he could thrust up into the hot mouth surrounding him. Never had he thought anything would feel this good, and he started to move faster, his eyes closed, reveling in the sensations. Dimly, he felt a hand caressing his ass and a small bit of pressure, but it faded into nothing as Yohji pulled back so Omi was almost out of his mouth, then took him in again, so deep Omi could feel the muscles of Yohji's throat closing around him. It was all too much and he exploded with a hoarse shout. He felt his hands clench on the headboard and his back arched, his vision going gray on the edges and he squeezed his eyes closed and nearly sobbed.
It took a long moment for him to realize he was still awake and that Yohji had moved up to cover his body with his own. He opened his eyes as Yohji kissed him again, the slightly bitter taste of Yohji's mouth confusing for a brief minute, and then making him blush as he realized he was tasting his own release. He shifted his hips slightly, then gasped. Yohji kissed him again, quieting him, before Omi moaned out "Yohji, what is it?"
"Easy, Omi, it's ok, I just have to prepare you. I don't want to hurt you." Another long kiss and Omi moaned again as Yohji slowly moved his fingers in and out. It wasn't unpleasant, was in fact beginning to feel very good, it was just so very different. He had never heard of this, never known exactly how two men were supposed to make love, but he'd said he wanted it, and he meant it. If it was something Yohji wanted, he was willing. He focused on the wonderful kisses Yohji was giving him, until Yohji twisted his fingers a bit and Omi saw stars as pleasure spiked from his ass to his groin, setting him on fire and making him harden all over again. A few more twists of his fingers and then they withdrew, leaving Omi feeling suddenly and unexplainably empty. He opened his eyes and watched as Yohji stood and took off his pants, gasping as he saw Yohji's cock. He watched as Yohji knelt back down, settling on his knees between Omi's legs. Yohji picked up a tube of clear gel he must have gotten while Omi was distracted and squeezed some into his hand, spreading it on his cock before catching Omi's lips in another kiss and guiding himself into Omi.
Omi felt something much larger than Yohji's fingers had felt begin to press into him, and felt himself stretching almost painfully and started to panic. It was too big, it would never work, it was going to hurt... Yohji kissed him again, then broke off the kiss to whisper soothingly to him, calming him as he pressed into Omi slowly. Omi clutched Yohji's shoulders as the panic receded and the pleasure started to return, overriding the little bits of pain. He felt the ache in his cock, and the pleasure of being filled and stretched and moaned as Yohji stopped the incredibly slow sensation. His lips were claimed again, and then Yohji started to move. Slowly, he felt the fullness subside, leaving him feeling bereft and empty, and then it returned just as slowly. Omi moaned and sighed as Yohji moved, the slow give and take playing havoc with his breathing as he wanted to moan and gasp and kiss Yohji all at the same time.
Yohji's strokes sped up as it went on and he guided Omi's legs around his waist and then he hit that spot again and Omi screamed, almost coming off the bed beneath Yohji as his vision filled with sparks and his ears were filled with Yohji's harsh breathing. A hand made it's way between them and grasped Omi's straining erection and pumped. Omi let out a long, harsh shout as Yohji pumped him inside and out and he came in a rush, dimly hearing Yohji's own shout as he rapidly lost any sense of where or even who he was.
When his mind started to function on more than a basic level, Omi found himself on his side beneath the blankets, Yohji's naked body cuddled up to his back and one long arm around his waist. He started to shift, wanting to see Yohji's face, but stopped when he heard a soft whisper. "Shush, pretty boy, just relax and rest, we'll talk later." Omi lay back down, resting his head on the pillow and feeling Yohji's breath on the back of his neck as he drifted off to sleep.
Omi woke sometime in the night, disoriented. It took a moment for him to remember why he wasn't in his own bed and why he was sore, and then another moment to realize what had woken him. Yohji had shifted away from him while he slept and was moaning and twitching in his sleep. Omi reached for Yohji, wanting to soothe the nightmare away and found himself clutched to Yohji's chest. Omi heard Yohji's breathing harsh in his ear and only barely caught the quietly whispered words. "Asuka, don't ever leave me again... Cant live without you."
Omi froze, a feeling like a lead weight settling in the vicinity of his heart. In spite of what had happened, Yohji was still in love with Asuka - apparently believing Omi to be her in his sleep. Omi knew he had been silly to think anything else, but he had dared to hope that maybe Yohji had found a new reason to go on, and he had held the small hope that he would want Omi to be a bigger part of his life. He felt those foolish hopes shattered with a few words, and untangled himself from Yohji as quickly as possible without waking him and put on his clothes, not bothering to do up the ties on his shirt as he left Yohji's apartment and went as quickly as he could to his own without running. He locked the door once he got inside, then fell onto the bed still clothed and gave into the tears he had been fighting.
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Omi woke slowly, a dull pounding in his head bringing him fully awake finally. He rolled to his back, the night before coming in waves of guilty memory. He still couldn't believe he had done that, had actually entertained that anything that good was bound to mean Yohji loved him. His cheeks flamed as he sat up. Given his experience, it probably wasn't nearly as much fun as Yohji usually had. After all, a partner who knew what they were doing, who knew how to give pleasure back had to be better than some virgin who didn't even know how to kiss yet. He shook his head at his own thoughts. This was Yohji, after all. None of his relationships lasted longer than a month at most, and most never made it to the next morning.
He took a clean shirt and pair of jeans out of the dresser at the end of the bed and glanced at the clock. It was still early enough that even Aya shouldn't be up yet. He had time for a shower before going down to open the shop. He sighed, thinking of the relief the hot water would bring to stiff muscles. He slipped out of his room and down the hall to the bathroom, glad to see no one. He wanted to be clean before he ran into Aya. Yohji would likely spend all day moping in his room so he wouldn't have to see him, and he didn't want to speak to Ken at all. He started the shower running, turning toward the mirror to start undressing while he waited for the water to warm.
He slipped the shirt off his shoulders and stopped, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He turned and faced it more completely, his eyes drawn to the livid purple splotches on his collarbone. His eyes narrowed in slight annoyance. He had the 'evidence' Ken had requested, though he had absolutely no intention of showing it to him. He would have to get another shirt from his room before he went downstairs, the one he had grabbed wouldn't cover the marks, and there was no mistaking what they were. He didn't think he could take the disappointment that he was sure he would see if Aya saw them.
He showered quickly, and saw no one when he went back to his room to toss the dirty clothes in the hamper and get another shirt. He was glad the week had been rather cool, it wouldn't seem so odd for him to wear a shirt with a higher collar. Finally dressed he glanced at the clock again and headed downstairs to the shop, since he had volunteered for the morning shift, having a rare day off from school during the week.
The morning went quickly enough with just him and Aya. Aya never spoke very much, Omi was busy helping customers most of the time and the two were used to working together and rarely felt the silence was uncomfortable when it fell. They each seemed to enjoy the quiet to think their own thoughts. Ken came in a little before noon, and Omi tried to find something to do to keep him in the main part of the shop with Aya. He didn't want to talk to Ken; he didn't want to have the conversation he knew was coming. When Aya asked him to fetch a vase from the storeroom for a customer, he floundered for a moment. He couldn't find a polite way to refuse, and he didn't miss Ken making an excuse to go with him.
He went to the shelves and was looking for the vase Aya had asked for when Ken asked his question.
"So, did you do it?"
Omi felt a swell of anger and shame wash over him and he clenched one hand into a fist to avoid slamming it into the shelf. His answer was sharp, but he doubted Ken would notice. Ken could be remarkably obtuse when he was set on something. "I don't want to talk about it, Ken."
"Come on, we had a bet. Since you're wearing more than your apron, I'm guessing you did, but..."
He barely caught back the growl he wanted to send over his shoulder. "I don't want to talk about it, Ken. Leave it be!"
"Omi, you have to tell me, did you go through with it?"
Omi whirled, anger making his eyes flash, but Ken didn't seem to notice. "It's none of your business, Ken."
"Yes, it is." Omi stared in shock at Ken, who was actually smiling. "So talk, did you do it?"
Omi felt his anger overwhelm him. How dare Ken ask that of him? If it hadn't been for Ken, he would have just taken Yohji his dinner, he never would have kissed him, and he certainly never would have had sex with him. He raised his hands, struggling with the buttons on his shirt because his hands were shaking, his resolve of the morning falling away. If Ken was so set on seeing proof of the humiliation and lingering hurt Omi was struggling to control, then so be it. Let him see what he had caused, let him see the marks that bore their silent witness to the last piece of innocence Omi had had left, that he had given so willingly and so foolishly.
"Fine! You need proof? Look! This proof enough for you, Ken?" He pulled his shirt aside, revealing the livid marks, feeling an odd sense of satisfaction at the look of shock on Ken's face before he turned and left, the vase left behind. He turned the corner to tell Aya he couldn't find the vase, and froze. Yohji was standing in the shadows near the stairs. Omi felt his anger evaporate faster than it had built, leaving only the hurt in its place. He knew the marks were left bare now and saw Yohji's eye drop to them.
Ken came out of the storeroom behind him and almost bumped into him. Omi watched as Yohji's gaze shifted to Ken and his face twisted. Yohji leapt forward, his hands twisting in Ken's shirt as he shoved Ken back against the wall, snarling. Omi was pushed aside and only stood watching, surprised and feeling at a loss for what to do. He could feel Aya's gaze boring into him from behind, assessing to see if he needed to intervene.
"Getting your kicks, Ken?" Yohji's voice was an angry hiss as he pressed Ken back against the wall. "Having fun at my expense, or was it Omi you wanted to humiliate?" He pushed Ken back again as it seemed like he would try to speak, apparently too angry to hear anything Ken had to say. "I can't believe this is how you treat a friend. Fuck with Omi like this again, and I'll kick your ass."
As suddenly as it had started, Yohji let go of Ken and turned, grabbing Omi's wrist as he passed and tugging him along behind. Omi didn't argue, he knew by now Aya would want to ask him what was going on and he needed an excuse to avoid him right now. Since Yohji had evidently decided Omi was his for the moment, he went along, taking the escape for what it was. Yohji dragged him up the stairs and finally let go of him in front of Omi's door. Deciding it was impossible Yohji hadn't heard at least part of what had been said, he knew he needed to find out just how much damage had been done.
"Yohji-kun, how much did you hear?"
Yohji didn't answer right away, busying himself with getting a cigarette lit and not looking at Omi. When he finally spoke, he looked up at Omi and the hurt in his expression seemed to match what Omi was feeling. "Enough, I think. So, Ken put you up to last night, hmm? Were you supposed to seduce me or was I just too easy?"
"Yohji," Omi shook his head, then started again. "Yohji, Ken made the suggestion, but I didn't- Ken only wanted me to kiss you, it just gave me the courage to do something I've wanted to do for a while now."
Yohji was shaking his head. "I shouldn't have done it, Omi, I'm sorry."
"Why not? I kissed you, I told you not to stop. I never said I didn't want it."
"No, Omi, I took advantage of you. You were innocent and I used that."
Omi smiled sadly, tilting his head to one side. "I haven't been exactly innocent for a while, Yohji. Not with what Weiss does."
Yohji exhaled a plume of smoke with his sigh. "That's not what I meant and you know it, Omi. You were a virgin, and you're only seventeen. It was wrong."
Omi felt his anger flare again. "So you won't date a girl who isn't eighteen, but you'll fuck a boy you *think* is younger than that?"
Omi felt a sort of raw, bitter satisfaction at seeing Yohji flinch at his words. He felt it intensify when they sank in. "Yeah, Yohji, I'm eighteen now. My birthday was three months ago, in case you were wondering. So don't go adding to your guilt over me. I knew what I wanted, and I got it. So did you."
He turned, storming back down the stairs and ripping his apron off as he went. He went quickly through the shop, dimly noting Aya and Ken's angry expressions as he tossed the apron on the counter and announced curtly that he was going out. He heard Ken shout his name, asking him to stop, but he just kept going. He needed space, time and a place to think.
He ended up at a coffee shop he had never been to before. Hoping it was far enough away that no one he recognized would be there he went inside and got a small table for himself in the corner, thanking the waitress who brought him a menu. He waited until she walked away before checking his wallet, hoping he had some money with him. He didn't have much, but it would be enough for some tea and a small snack. He ordered when the girl came back a minute later and looked out the window next to him.
The anger had burned away on the walk here, and he was left only with the hurt and the humiliation. He thought back on what he had told Yohji and still felt that sense of bitter satisfaction that he had managed to shake the man. His words had been on point, and it disgusted Omi to realize it. He didn't know if it meant Yohji had been that attracted to Omi and had been caught in a moment of weakness, or if there was just something in Yohji that saw a difference between a seventeen year old girl and a boy of the same age. He didn't think it really mattered either way, since he doubted there would ever be a chance to repeat the experience, even if he did want to, especially after what he had said.
It dimly occurred to Omi that part of the difference might have to do with what they did together on an unfortunately regular basis. He'd been killing since before Yohji joined Weiss, and that did seem to make them all assume he was not as innocent as he looked. Of course, the fact that he planned their missions, wrote the emotionless and methodical mission reports for Kritiker and managed to keep his personal demons at an arm's length probably helped sometimes, too. His teammates had all been skeptical when they first joined the team to find that one of their number was still in high school and had been killing longer than they had. All of them had expressed to varying degrees that they thought Omi too young, too innocent to do what they did. One mission had been enough for each of them to never mention it again. One mission had also been enough to make them all question that judgment all over again.
It had been Aya's censure that hurt the most. Yohji and Ken had been annoyed and obviously mistrustful, but had tried in their own distant ways to help him deal with it. Aya had been furious, and Omi had been sure it was only the threat of what might happen to his sister that had kept him from gutting Omi on the spot when Hirofumi had escaped. Aya's anger and avoidance had been worse than having to detail himself as the cause of the mission's failure, worse than Manx's relay of Persia's disappointment. Omi closed his eyes briefly. Thinking of the uncle who had taken him after his father's rejection, who had given him a new name and a new life and taught him to kill, still brought mixed emotions and confusing obligations. He turned to look out the window, watching the people passing on the street as a way to avoid thinking anymore.
By the time he finished his snack and the last dregs of his third cup of tea were sitting cold in the bottom of the cup, he felt settled enough to go back to the shop. Aya had planned to spend the entire day in the shop, since Yohji hadn't come down to help in more than a week. Ken was supposed to help him in the afternoon, leaving Omi free to study for his upcoming exams, but he didn't feel up to studying. He supposed, since he planned on staying in the shop that afternoon, that he should tell Aya to go. But the thought lingered that he didn't want to speak to Ken, didn't want to be trapped alone with him in the shop. He hoped Aya would understand.
When he arrived at the shop, Ken was sweeping up the remains of a glass vase that had fallen on the ground and assuring the flustered young girl that there was nothing to worry about, it must have been too close to the edge. Omi sighed and shook his head. Those vases were not cheap, but Ken never did make one of the customers that broke them pay for them. Maybe they should look into getting plastic ones that wouldn't shatter for the displays. He saw Aya surrounded by a group of giggling girls, and went behind the counter to look for his apron. It had been folded and placed neatly on a shelf, most likely by Aya, and he picked it up and put it on, calling out that he could help someone.
The time passed quickly with the afternoon rushes coming in one after the other, and Omi was relieved when finally Aya was ushering the last customers out and pulling down the metal grate over the doors. He took up a broom, and started sweeping, determined to ignore Ken, who seemed intent on getting his attention without attracting Aya's. Omi gave a silent sigh of relief when Aya suggested Ken go order something for dinner, even offered to pay to get the other man out of the shop. Omi had been trying to get him to leave since he'd come back, to no avail. Omi kept sweeping, his eyes on the floor, having guessed he was going to have to explain himself and his admittedly strange behavior today. He wasn't known for leaving in the middle of his shift, having sudden outbursts, or avoiding his teammates, but he had been doing all of those things today.
Omi kept sweeping, and Aya waited patiently to say anything until he was done counting out the day's cash and putting it away in the safe. Once Omi put away the broom and was making a last check of the plants and displays, he felt Aya watching him. He stopped, took a deep breath and turned, letting Aya know he was ready to talk.
"Ken told me about the bet."
Omi felt his face heat and ducked his head. "Did he? And what else did Ken tell you?"
"Omi, Ken had good intentions, even if it may not seem so. He knew you liked Yohji, and he hoped it might get Yohji out of his depression. He was trying to play matchmaker."
Omi chuckled, though it sounded a bit forced and choked even to his ears. "Well, he was right, I don't think Yohji's just depressed about Asuka now." He sighed, leaning back against the counter. "Aya, Yohji didn't know... he thought I was still seventeen. I wasn't very nice about it when I pointed out the mistake."
"So, you did sleep with him? Ken thought it hadn't gone beyond kissing."
Omi only nodded. As awkward as it was to admit it, he wanted Aya at least to know. Aya had been the only person on the team who really bothered to get to know him well. Yohji teased and joked, but their relationship was only superficial at best. Ken was more interested in soccer and the neighborhood kids than Omi, though he had to question that now, if Ken had been watching him closely enough to know he had a crush on Yohji. Aya had bothered to find out little things like his birthday, or his favorite food. Aya had been the one whose good opinion Omi had wanted so badly when he had first found out he was a part of the Takatori family. It had been Aya's acceptance he had sought more than anyone else's. He heard a soft step against the concrete floor and looked up to see Aya had moved over to stand directly in front of him, and his hand was raised to Omi's collar. Omi tilted his head in acceptance, and Aya gently pulled away the collar of his shirt to reveal the marks Yohji had left him with.
"Did you at least enjoy your first time?" Aya asked as he let his hand drop. Omi nodded, and Aya said then, "Good. Now you can move on and find someone worthy of you."
Omi looked up and after a minute he smiled, just slightly. "Thank you, Aya-kun." Aya just nodded and the two walked out of the shop, locking the door behind them for the night.
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Omi looked up from the screen of the laptop in front of him. He had settled here in this cafe as instructed, though he still didn't know why Manx had wanted to see him away from the rest of the team. After the events at the Ani Museum a few months before, Aya's sister was helping Momoe-san with the shop and Weiss had been left to other pursuits, missions that required more intense surveillance, more work. Manx still met with all four of them when there was a mission, and they never did solo work now, Kritiker apparently believing it wasn't worth the risk. Omi was currently working on his application for university. He had been too busy with Weiss during the last few months of high school to do the things like this he needed to in order to continue his education, but now that he had some free time in his day he intended to make sure he got in, even if he had to wait for the winter classes to begin instead of starting in the fall.
His eyes caught a flash of red hair at the entrance to the cafe and he stood to greet Manx as she walked over to him. He smiled, but it was slightly tense as he noticed her smile was lacking something.
"Hello, Manx, it is good to see you again," he greeted, motioning to the table in invitation, waiting until she had seated herself to resume his seat.
"Hello, Omi. I have something important to discuss with you. Your grandfather has sent me."
"My grandfather?" Omi blinked. Of all the many things that had gone through his mind, he had never thought that his grandfather would have been the reason for this visit.
"Yes, he wishes for you to accept your place as Takatori Mamoru and his eventual heir." She paused, noting the shocked look on Omi's face, but then continued, and Omi shook himself mentally to follow what she was saying. "He will arrange for you to attend a university of his choosing, will give you the four years to adjust to your new duties, increasing them as time goes on. When you are finished, you would be presented to society and take up the mantle of Persia."
"Persia?" Omi stubbornly resisted the urge to pinch himself. He needed time, to think, to say goodbye. He gasped as he realized he would accept. He had been feeling unsettled for months. He had been at odds with Yohji and Ken since Ken's attempt to 'help' both him and Yohji, and it seemed that Yohji still wasn't quite over Omi's harsh words on their morning after. Ken had tried to repair the little bit of friendship they'd had, even going so far as to offer a bet where he had to try to kiss Aya. While tempted, Omi had stuck to his resolve never to bet with Ken again and the tension between the two remained. Yohji had been distant, no longer teasing Omi over the number of girls who sighed over him, or staying up late surfing the net. Part of Omi missed the teasing, knowing that at least then, Yohji had shown some interest in what Omi did. Now, though, it seemed more like he'd gotten Omi into bed and lost interest, just like he did with a new woman every week or two. It seemed as though the only one he had any connection to was Aya, but even that connection was becoming slightly strained as Omi had repeatedly urged him to visit Aya-chan and he stubbornly refused, believing the girl to be better off if she thought him dead in the rubble of the Ani Museum. Omi blinked and looked back to Manx.
"How soon? Do I get to say goodbye?"
Manx sighed, her look becoming sad. "No, it was your grandfather's wish that you spend tonight with him if you accept, and leave on the next available flight. He wants the break with Weiss to be clean and swift. You are allowed to bring your laptop, and your weapons will be sent to you. You will be given a clothing allowance, and enough to support you in a manner befitting the Takatori heir."
Omi didn't speak for a moment, and turned to look out the window. No one had been home when he left to meet Manx, and if he didn't come back, would they think he had just walked away? Wasn't that what he was going to do? Yohji and Ken wouldn't understand his decision, but Aya would. Aya understood how important family was. Aya would understand he had to take this chance to be a part of his family, regardless of his past.
"Manx, when you retrieve my weapons, please tell Aya... Tell him I had to put my family first."
{End Part 1 - Omi}
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