Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Ace of Hearts ❯ Bluff ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Disclaimer: They pretty boys are not mine; I only borrow them, strip them, and bang them together.

Author’s Notes: Well, I'm usually not one for making Omi-kun angsty, but the boy needs it sometimes! So, well, what better matter than love...and sex, don't forget the sex...

[The first chapter was written forever ago.]

Ace of Hearts
Chapter One: Bluff

The high-pitched alarms blared into the night as the two hunters bounded down the rusted metal steps. Taking off down the street, expecting the other to follow without command, Aya heard the squeal of tires as a nearby police car sped after them. Muttering a curse that even Yohji would cringe at, he grabbed Omi's arm and pulled him into a dark and narrow alley, not quite in time to avoid the very edge of a searchlight.

Out of breath, Omi barely had time to blink as Aya turned him around so that his back was to the wall. With quick hands, Aya unbuckled his own bloody coat, tossing it to the ground to cover his katana amidst the trash of the street. There was a loud slam of a car door and then Omi's surprised gasp as he was pushed back against the wall. Suddenly Aya's arms were around him and hot lips were covering his own. Then the spotlight hit them; neither moved.

"Hey you!" a deep voice called from the end of the alley, barely four meters away. Aya turned to scowl at the man, taking a half-step back, just enough to let them see his hand slip through the open fly of Omi's shorts.

"Oh God," the second officer groaned. Aya couldn't see their faces, the spot light forcing him to squint even to make out silhouettes, but he would bet heavily on this voice belonging to a new recruit; it reeked of actual surprise. The light lowered, but neither cop made a move towards them. The first spoke again:

"You boys see anyone come through here?"

"No," Aya deadpanned, returning his attention to Omi in order to suckle at his neck with a little more motion and sound than was necessary. Omi's hand clenched on his arm and the boy moaned.

Giving up on getting any useful information, the older officer returned to the car and could be heard giving a report loudly over the radio.

"Damn fags," the one with the light grumbled. "Why don't you take your little bitch and get a room?"

Oh, and did that not go over well. It seems that when faced with the full 'shine' glare, the Japanese police force is not equipped to deal. This particular member quickly sought refuge in the car, casting a weary glance back and quietly suggesting his partner dive on. Omi would have laughed except for the fact that Aya still had a hand down his shorts and was standing very, very close. After an pause, head tilted in listening, Aya pulled away. Bending down he retrieved his coat, tucking his blade beneath it and turning back to watch a blushing Omi struggle with his zipper.

"Sorry," Aya stated, making no excuses and expecting the reasons to be obvious.

"It's...okay," Omi returned, unable to meet those purple eyes and praying that the other hadn't seen the forming erection beneath his clothes. "It worked."

Aya nodded. With a cursory glance around the corner, they were on their way home in silence.

~*~

Ken sat at the kitchen table, clothed in a pair a gray sweats and looking generally comfortable as he played a game of cards before bedtime. The man across from him, however, looked about as uncomfortable as one could get. Wearing only a pair of silken boxers, Yohji held between his teeth what had to be well past the twentieth cigarette that night. He watched the back door, loosing hand after hand with his attention concentrated on his absent Aya. The two had recently been through yet another of their constant fights and the redhead had left angry. Yohji would never forgive himself if something happened.

Ken watched relief flood the blonde's features as the door rattled and their two companions walked through. Ken lifted a casual hand in greeting, but Yohji had him outdone as he was instantly at Aya's side. Despite the other's venoment protest and glare, he lifted Aya's shirt half over his head to assess the wound on the pale side. It was rare that the redhead should sustain an injury, but their mission hadn't gone exactly as planned. Still, they were alive and Mr. Stafford, who had sought his future by the deaths of his fellow gang members and other innocent bystanders, was not, and that was all that mattered in the end.

Soon a disgruntled Aya was herded upstairs by a hovering Yohji and Omi took a heavy seat beside Ken. Picking up a card he held it between his fingers just a moment before flicking it across the room and into a shadowed corner: the ace of hearts.

"I'm sorry," Ken said, reaching out to take Omi's smaller hand in his own.

"For what?"

"That you can't have him," Ken explained, nodding his head towards the empty stairs.

"I wasn't--"

"Yes you were. You've got that same look."

"What look?"

"That look you get when you see them kiss, or hug, or touch. That look you get when Aya gives in to somebody and it’s not you."

Reaching up, Omi pulled the cloth and goggles from his head. As he spoke he clasped them in his lap. "Just once," he whispered, "I just want him once."

Ken sighed, "Once is not enough when you're in...it's not enough."

~*~

Aya, dressed only in a navy pair of cloth boxers, sat on the cool lid of the toilet as Yohji knelt beside him to tend his wound. It wasn't too deep, and only Yohji winced as he applied the alcohol. Finishing the job with a simple white bandage, he stood to draw Aya into his arms, dipping him slightly to the left as they kissed. The first aid kit was forgotten on the sink as the two hurried off to bed.

~*~

Omi winced. Even after pulling the covers over his he still heard Yohji giving Aya panting orders. Lower baby, right there. No, no, with your mouth; I love that mouth. Oh god, yeah, you know how. Lovely Aya, mine, all mine. Faster, faster! Then he moaned, Aya's name prolonged on his lips. There were a few muttered words, a small argument, then all was quiet.

"Lovely Aya," Omi whispered into the night, "why can't you be mine?"

Turning on his side, he rested his head on one folded arm. Aya didn't want /him/, not for who he was but for what he wasn't, or at least what everyone thought he wasn't. From what he could gather through wall-filtered "conversations" and Yohji's more than occasional quips, Aya played the uke in their relationship. He liked, or needed even, to be controlled. After contemplating it, Omi had reached the conclusion that by giving up the ice for that one moment, Aya could really feel...and that is what allowed him to fall in love with Yohji.

And could Omi give him that? Damn strait he could! With an indignant snort Omi flipped back the blankets, rolling to his back to stare at the ceiling. He was a man after all; control was in his blood. And the thought of Aya, naked, glistening with the sweat of passion, writhing beneath him...

With near trembling hands Omi pushed down the elastic waist of his pajama pants so that it rested just beneath his balls, rubbing against the sensitive skin even as he took his erection in hand. With light fingers he caressed his own flesh, pretending the touches were not his own. As he ran his fist slowly up and down he saw Aya kneeling before him, fisting a hand that red hair as the swordsman sucked him.

Giving completely to the fantasy, Omi let it take him.

Aya' tongue worked subtle wonders against his heated skin, causing him to arch in pleasure. The redhead moved, pressing him back on the bed and climbing up beside him. He sat, naked there, pale and proper even as his stiff cock strained between his legs. Omi reached up to pull the older man down atop himself, feeling the warm weight as their lips met, quick and heated, darting tongues and teeth, a sweet taste he couldn't quite fathom. Pulling back, Aya spoke.

I need you.

Are you sure, Aya-kun?

Take me Omi.

And there was no more hesitation. Rolling over, Omi stroked his erection as he watched the redhead get onto his hands and knees, tight bottom presented with his legs slightly. Maneuvering in between those creamy thighs, he pressed in. Close warmth surrounded him as his cock sunk deep into Aya with a soft sound. A tiny pause, then with a smooth motion he began to thrust deeply, hips rocking to a steady natural rhythm, hands clenching on Aya's thin hips, the other moaning beneath him.

Aya pressed back against him, meeting his thrusts even as they sped up. Flesh hit flesh in wonderful rapid succession. Friction, heat, Aya, it was all so much, so good--

Omi bit his lip as a cry tried to fall from them Wet strands of white fell across his tired hand and taught tummy. He gasped for air, lying in the quiet and trying not to remember that it was all in his head.

~tbc?~

Four reviews and I’ll give you more seme Omi...strange as it is, I find him rather fascinating...