Blooded Petals

By Eternitys End

Normal disclaimers apply: I do not, nor do I claim to, hold any ownership over Weiss Kreuz or any of its parts. More's the pity.

A/N (1): Reviews are much appreciated, whether here or directly to me at EternitysEnd @ eternitysend. cjb. net. I also encourage anyone to check out my website at http:// eternitysend. cjb. net. (Minus the spacing of course) Any and all submissions are welcome!

A/N (2): I don't remember that I mentioned what day of the week it was anywhere in the story. Currently, it is the third evening in the story, and I'm making it a Thursday. Please tell me if I'm contradicting myself.

Chapter Five: The Effects of Talking in Bed

"I want a doctor!" Youji squirmed on the bed, thrashing his legs and flailing his good arm. Aya held the other in a death grip, his nails digging into the flesh of his forearm.

"Stay still!"

It had been two weeks since their first mission with Akai, and nothing much had changed. There had been two more missions, in which things had been relatively uneventful. Aya had forced Youji to be back up for both, and as such, made him ultimately useless. Akai remained ruthless, rash, and eerily effective. The most exciting part of either mission was when Ken encountered someone with a hide thick enough to break his bugnuks. He was using an older model until they were repaired.

At the shop, things had settled down, Akai finding his place taking orders over the phone and restocking inventory. His by the book demeanor helped keep them organized. Grudgingly, even Ken would admit it. They hadn't run out of baby's breath since he'd arrived.

At home, but for a few scuffles regarding socks, a bumblebee, and the unfortunate demise of the can opener, they had settled into pleasant ignorance. Akai chose to eat in his room, or go out on his own. The others more than welcomed his absence.

Five more mornings, Youji found himself waking beside Aya since he'd been shot. He'd insist it was Aya's attempt at a slow seduction. Aya would scowl and walk off, neither denying nor confirming Youji's hopeful accusations.

It hadn't taken much detective work to discover where the lower wound had come from. Akai's over eager assassination had nearly taken Youji along with the targets. Aya had taken his anger about the incident out on Akai in a ruthless practice session in the first week. The others simply snickered behind his back, each having experienced the torture…err…training sessions at one point or another. All in all, the time had passed normally.

Now, it was time for Youji's stitches to come out.

"I want a doctor! I want a doctor!"

"I was good enough to put them in; I'm good enough to take them out." Aya growled, wielding the tiny surgical scissors with efficient ease.

"I was unconscious when you put them in! I'm conscious now!" Youji flailed about again, wrenching Aya onto the bed and causing himself undue pain.

"I can change that." Aya threatened, pulling himself up with a menacing scowl. Youji whimpered pathetically, curling himself around Aya with a repentant pout.

"I want a doctor." He whimpered.

"I can be just as good as a doctor." Aya reassured, brushing his fingers through chestnut locks.

"I can't sue you for malpractice if you mess up!" He moaned solemnly.

"I won't mess up." Aya promised, pulling his head back to look in his eyes.

"You don't know that." Youji whimpered. "I want morphine."

"Isn't that a little overkill? You don't need morphine. You had a tattoo done in the same area on the other arm, it can't be that bad." Youji shook his head against his stomach.

"A tattoo's a little needle pushing ink in. Those are scissors pulling things out." Youji stared at the two neat little lines of thread in his skin. Craning his neck, he could see the stitches closing the exit wound. "And I was probably father gone than I would be with morphine when I got it done." He attempted to appeal to the red head with a small smile. "You really won't consider taking me to the doctor?" He pleaded one last time.

"No. You can have some aspirin if it hurts afterwards, or you could get drunk, like you normally would do." Youji whimpered and submitted, squishing his face up until he greatly resembled a pug, or more appropriately, one of those cats that looked like they've been slammed against a window. Aya snipped carefully before pulling the longer ends out. About a minute after he'd finished, Youji cracked an eye at him.

"Well, are you just going to keep me waiting?" He heaved a long-suffering sigh. Aya raised an eyebrow, flipped the handful of threads at him, and walked out of the room. "Oh, you're done." Youji examined the neat, fresh row of scars. "That wasn't so bad."

"Mission!" Omi burst into the training room, dragging Ken after him. They immediately pulled up short, staring at the scene before them. "Oh…" Omi murmured after a time. "So that's where you were." Ken coughed awkwardly; Youji stared at him, not moving from his perch on the weight bench.

"Hi." The fact that Aya was acting as a pad between himself and the weight bench didn't phase him. Nor did the fact that they were obviously caught in the midst of something basely sexual. Aya, unfortunately, was not so callous. But what he lacked in sexual confidence, he made up for tenfold with obstinacy. He would not be the one to apologize. He'd make Ken and Omi sweat it out.

Long uncomfortable seconds later, he shifted uncomfortably. It had been fine when Youji's weight had been spread along the length of him, but now, with his weight centralized and bearing down on his stomach, the position didn't hold quite the allure. He'd be so much more comfortable, if he could just slide the blonde down a little bit, to bear his weight on his hips. But he would not show a sign of weakness. That and the position might be taken the wrong way, by both his body, and their new audience.

Clenching his teeth, he forced himself to glare at the interruption. He'd successfully intimidated Ken, who was attempting to pull his lover towards the door, but Omi stood strong. In fact, he seemed torn between anger at the fact that they'd missed a mission briefing, and elated that he and Youji had been making out in the weight room. Sometimes he really disliked blondes.

"We missed a mission?" Youji inched backwards on his perch, enjoying the way Aya squirmed beneath him.

"No, a mission briefing." Omi replied, watching as Youji moved his weight so he was no longer suffocating Aya. He was so thoughtful!

"We accepted for you." Ken shrugged, tugging at Omi's arm. Youji was sitting on Aya. And he was sitting there. Did Omi not see that they wanted to be left alone? Probably not, Omi didn't see a lot of things. He thought that Aya and Youji hadn't had sex yet. How could they not have, with Youji perched so naturally and comfortably, with an audience, no less? He and Omi weren't even that comfortable yet, and how many times had they done it?

"Who's the target?" Aya asked, watching Youji and silently taking back everything he'd just thought about Youji sitting there. Sure, he no longer had the air forced out of his lungs from the pressure. But it wasn't like he could breath any easier now. Youji wiggled. And he didn't even seem aware that he did it. He didn't just sit; he rubbed, and skimmed. Lanky blondes should be outlawed in some countries.

Wouldn't Omi and Ken just go away?

Omi watched as Aya developed a tick in his stomach muscles. Youji had probably been sitting there for too long. He looked like he might be in serious pain. "There's a new drug out on the streets, Conglomerate. It's a powder and liquid that is combined to form a gel that's then injected into a vein. It's supposed to create a 'responsible high' that leaves the user in control, with no aftereffects.

"From what we've gathered it works as promised, the first time. If you use it again, though, it'll clog your arteries, causing a massive heart attack, followed immediately by blood poisoning. Not the best way to die. The only one who has the formula for the drug is the creator, Doctor Kin Murakami. He's been making a lot of money off of this drug, and killing off drug addicts. He sees it as a service to humanity. Our targets are he and his four assistant-slash-bodyguards. Our mission is to take them out and recover a sample of Conglomerate for Kritiker to test."

Aya half listened to Omi go on about the mission. It sounded legitimate, and he trusted the kid's judgement. At the moment, he was more concerned with an immediate problem, that being the one hundred some pounds of male snuggled into his crotch, and, of course, what he'd do if Youji decided to get up. But he seemed quite content where he was, which wasn't exactly helping his libido, either. He, the sneaky slut, seemed to be amusing himself, constantly shifting, grinding himself into his erection.

His body and mind were warring with each other. One part said to pull the blonde down on top of him, the other said to shove him off. Neither were currently options. If he shoved Youji away, he'd be left in a very uncompromising position. If he pulled him down and ravaged him, well, that would just be awkward for Ken and Omi. And though momentarily satisfying, he'd get hell about it from Youji for years to come.

If they were together for years that was. He couldn't be sure, Youji could get bored with him at any moment, couldn't he?

But his attention was the problem right now. Youji stretched his arms out behind him and leaned back, curling his lower back onto his upper thighs, with his own thighs just brushing the muscles of his stomach. They seemed to jump for contact. What the hell was Ken going on about mansions and big parties being the mission tonight? They were stopping a major sale. He understood that, even if he couldn't think of what was being sold or why they were stopping it at the moment. Couldn't they just go away?

Finally, he heard the magic words. A time to be ready by. Six. Surely that meant they were going to leave him alone now. He needed to sit Youji down and talk to him about paying attention during briefings, even if they were second hand, informal ones like this. Or he'd ravage him. Hell, he was a multi-tasker, he could handle both.

Youji was going out of his way, flirting, to distract him! It was completely irresponsible, unprofessional, and irresistible behavior. No, no! It was completely resistible. He could resist! He had a spine of steel, not to mention other rock hard parts.

No! This was all Youji's fault. Couldn't he just sit quietly and pay attention. Did he have to twist, expose that long column of throat and the series of love bites branding him? Yes, he did. It was amazingly tantalizing. No, that was bad. Youji looked more attentive than he did. There was something very, very wrong with that. This relationship was going to kill his reputation, just like it killed his attention span. He wasn't thinking with his head. Well, he was thinking with his head…just the wrong one.

"Well, we leave at six," A bit of conversation slowly processed in his hormone induced brain, "so you should come down and look at the specs for the building before that. We're not blowing it up or anything," Was that the sound of disappointment in Omi's voice? "but you should know potential hiding places and exits." With a wave, Omi followed Ken out of the room. At last they were alone.

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" Aya snarled at Youji, who stared at him in shock.

"My problem? It's your problem. I was going to get up, but I took pity on you." He recovered from his shock and gave Aya a knowing smile. With a snicker, he wiggled his butt, dipping down to lave his tongue up the creamy stretch of his throat.

"I am not to blame." Aya's voice was husky as he attempted to find the footholds in the argument. "It's not my fault your such a fucking tease! You have no shame!" Sitting up, he forced Youji back against the elevated barbell at the end of the bench.

"You drive me to distraction. You are completely unprofessional. You're going to get us killed one day." He punctuated each point with a nip at each love bite before turning to the other side, sucking the skin into his mouth. He realized vaguely that insults were uncalled for and basically knee-jerk defense mechanisms. But the fact that he had so little control over his body infuriated him. He was being a huge hypocrite; but wasn't it always better to vent, rather than let them build up inside? It was what people had always told him, anyway. "Did you pay attention at all?" He growled, lunging at his mouth this time, taking his lower lip between his teeth.

Frowning, Youji struggled to put him at arm's length. When he succeeded, Aya didn't let go of his lip, leaving a deep rake in his flesh that quickly welled up with blood. "Wasn't I paying attention? I was listening patiently. What were you doing?" Youji sucked his lip into his mouth to keep the blood from dribbling down his chin. See, he was distracting him again, fucking tease.

"What the hell is wrong with you! You're the fucking tease!" He shimmied off Aya's thighs, incensed. "I'm completely willing, but every time we get close, you find a reason not to!" The blood trickled as he talked, catching Aya's attention more than his words. "You're the one who always manages to pull back at the end, or make someone walk in on us, or go to answer the phone!"

Aya sat back on his heels, staring at the angry, bloody blonde in front of him, suddenly a lot calmer. "You do realize that I have no control over the phone or when a customer arrives." He pointed out the irrational accusations, not bothering to touch on the logical ones. Rubbing a hand through his hair, he stood and stretched. "I guess its for the best. We really should go figure out what this mission is. I wasn't paying much attention." He glided out of the room, leaving Youji alone and incensed.

A moment later, the blonde broke into an awkward, split lipped grin.

"I drove Ayan to distraction!" He cheered, rushing to catch up.

"How is it that you take everything I say and make it sound like innuendo?"

At six forty-two that evening, Weiss arrived in front of what Ken called "the really big, overly elaborate, expensive house on top of the really big, overly elaborate, expensive building", that was more commonly called Crystal House. The five men stood, silently, dressed their best, and blending perfectly with the crowds of rich, young, and beautiful people milling around outside. The Crystal House Ball, apparently, was a major event.

"I can't believe the sale's going down here." Youji murmured to the others, loosening his tie. Out of their small group, he looked the most out of place. Because despite the fact that his tuxedo was a perfect fit, and he had the rich, young and cocky attitude down pat, he couldn't seem to get the kitten-found-the-cream smile off his face. Nor could he hide the tooth shaped break in his lip and the series of love bites that lined one side of his jaw.

"Don't talk about it." Aya responded automatically, tightening the tie under his Adam's apple once more.

"I can't believe Kritiker got us an invitation. From what I hear, its pretty hard to do." He said, more quietly this time. "Too bad its work, its supposed to be a pretty bit of entertainment." With a smirk, he loosened the knot. Rising to the challenge, Aya immediately fixed it, tighter this time.

"Will you cut it out." Ken chastised them. "People are staring." He stood with Akai and Omi, scanning the crowds for their targets.

"Why are we standing here?" Akai spoke, unprompted, for the first time that night. The crowds of socialites were dampening his normal psychotic pre-mission smile.

"I don't know." Omi scanned the crowd, every now and then pointing out a celebrity or rising star. "Maybe there's a receiving line." He snickered quietly. "I can just see it." He started in his snootiest voice, "Yes, we have an invitation. From who, you ask? Well, frankly, its forged, so help me here, give me a name. What do we do? Oh, we're five grown men who work at a flower shop, part-time of course. Yes, I, personally, am from old-money, but since I'm technically dead, I don't see much of it. We made our fortune killing people like you." In his normal voice he added. "How long do you think it would take them to throw us out the door?"

Akai stared at him, mouth slightly open. "I doubt we'd even make it to the door." Aya answered.

"They wouldn't have a door to throw us out of, so they'd improvise, and throw us off the roof." Youji agreed.

Ken shuddered dramatically, "Don't even joke about that." And with a glance around. "If they do ask, what do we say?"

"We're not at liberty to say." Akai offered with the return of his pre-mission psycho smile. Youji shook his head with a wry smile, for once, approving of the younger boy.

"I am so paranoid!" Omi whimpered, sneaking up behind Ken and grabbing his hand. The older woman who had been stalking him for a dance glanced down and up a few times over before sighing her defeat and leaving in search of straighter prey. "They keep coming after me." He confided in his lover's ear.

"The target." Ken turned on him quickly, scanning the crowd for the familiar faces. The place was filled with the expensively dressed rich, but the activities that took place mirrored that of parties around the world: drinking beyond ones limits, dancing uninhibited, and gathering blackmail of others doing the latter. A few people were eyeing them pointedly, but no one appeared to be attacking.

"No." Omi chided softly, then in a soft whisper, like that used by children telling ghost stories, he confided, "Women." Ken laughed, and took him in his arms. "Have you seen anything?"

"Women, yeah, a couple of them have come after me. I told them I was here with a date." Ken smiled, sweeping the blonde around in a circle. "Do you think we'd get in trouble for one quick dance?" He waltzed Omi towards the dance floor.

"With the people here, probably not." Omi shrugged. "With Aya, definitely. We're here for a reason." As the last words left his mouth, he stilled. "Speak of the devil."

Ken turned quickly. "What, Aya was dancing?" He said that a little too loud. More people were staring at them. They thought they didn't belong, he could read it in their faces. They were just too polite to say anything.

"No," Omi whispered sadly. "I saw Murakami, but he's gone now." Touching the tiny device in his ear, he murmured. "Youji, you over by the bar."

There was a tiny pause before Youji came on. "You know me too well." He laughed out.

"Well Murakami was last sighted moving towards you. See what you can do about it." He dropped his hand away to link it around Ken's neck. "I hate all these public affairs. We never went to them before." He worded things carefully, but the meaning was the same.

"I know." Ken brushed his face in his hair. "After this, I think I'm going to decline anything in the spotlight." He drank in Omi's delicate scent of shampoo and cologne. "I swear you're worse than a drug. You should be illegal." He chuckled lightly. "Next thing you know we'll have to go take out whoever created you." He watched Omi's face fall, and playing back his words to himself, he realized how insensitive he sounded. "God, Omi, I'm sorry." He repented.

Omi mumbled something along the lines of "Its fine," when he really meant "You're an insensitive dolt and not getting any tonight." With a sigh, Ken pulled away. A moment later, Omi was lunging at him, using his shoulders as a lift to see behind him. "What's happening over there?" He wondered. Turning, Ken saw for himself.

"Nobaria?" A string of warning bells went off in Akai's head. "Akai Nobaria, is that you?" He should have know there would be some rich military official in this crowd. Why hadn't Shin told him during the briefing? He briefly debated fleeing, but no doubt that would cause problems down the line.

Why couldn't the target just start the sale so they could get out of here already! Plastering a hopefully-not-demented smile on his face, Akai turned to face the ghost from his past.

"Ota!" The requisite slaps on the backs ensued. "I didn't know you'd be here." He really should have known. The man had everything this crowd looked for, youth, looks, style, money, and most of all, power. His nostrils flared alarmingly, but he forced himself to calm. After the mission tonight, he'd come back for Yoshi Ota. The forced smile gradually became a real one.

"What happened to you? I got word that you'd been shipped off to, you know, the old woman." He glanced around uneasily, and as if sensing no danger, continued on in his normal, booming voice. "Man, the stories I hear about that hag. I heard from someone that she was controling an entire team of retired ops. Heard she just got ahold of an assassins guild or something. Through puppets, of course. I can't see the old woman involved doing anything physical." He smirked, giving Akai another slap on the back. "But rumors are rumors. You wouldn't be involved with anything like that." Did he have to smile so sincerely? "Even if Gran's amazing, I hear she's got a few screws loose. Bet it only makes her even more dangerous.

"But seriously, what happened to you? I haven't seen you in a year! Heard you flipped out like your old man. Thought they'd tuck you away somewhere, but look at you! You look great." Akai's smile turned more and more bitter. The man was drunk. His blades loved intoxicated bloods. And it had been so long since they'd gotten a full meal at close range. Tonight they'd be sated for sure.

With a quick glance around him, Akai tugged on the man's tie, hissing in a low clear voice. "Why don't we get together later tonight. I'll catch you up and we can reminisce 'bout the good old days over a beer." He let the man go with a sharp shove, quickly turning on his heal. And walked straight into Ken's chest.

"They're not responding." Aya met up with Youji on the third floor, the latter having tracked Murakami thus far. "We can't take on all five with just two of us." He had retrieved the bag with their weapons and was currently shuffling through its contents.

"Unless we take out a few with darts first, but we'll be doing it in plain sight." Worrying his split lip, Youji held out his hand to accept a few. Tapping the link, he gave the others the basics before motioning to Youji to move. A moment later the link came to life again.

"Do you really need us?" Omi sounded worried.

"Because we've got a little problem of our own, right now." Ken sounded bitter. "Don't we, Akai." Both assassins stilled, mid-step.

"Is everything alright?" Aya asked seriously.

"It will be, we're probably overreacting. Ken, really." Omi didn't sound at all convinced by his own words. "Once we get some answers. We'll be outside. Call if you need backup." With a resigned sigh, he cut the link again.

"Akai?" Youji breathed out in a mix of disbelief and certainty. "I'll string the little shit by his balls." He decided, quietly, as they neared the room Murakami had disappeared into. "I just hope I live long enough to do it."

Standing braced on either side of the door, the pair waited. Aya unsheathed his katana, and Youji had a bit of wire pinched between the fingers of his watch hand. In his other he clutched three darts. Silently, they nudged open the door, before bursting in, ready to take out the bad guy.

It didn't quite go as planned. The entire room was empty, but the huge crystal window for which Crystal House got its name gave them a view of the terrace. Where Murakami, his assistants, and their customer sat drinking in plain view.

"Hell." Youji muttered, they were completely exposed should anyone look out. They could easily shoot straight through the window and they'd be goners. The only chance they had was if the made it to the door outside without being seen. Tapping into the link, Youji whispered a quick threat, adding, "I expect your part of the payment for this," at the end.

Glancing over at Aya, he shrugged, and quietly, the pair crept toward the wall. They had no way of knowing if they could still be seen from the position. Luck was on their side for at least one thing tonight, as they made it without incident. Inching open the door, Youji tossed the three darts in quick succession, hitting two of the beefiest 'assistants'.

When their attention was focused on the slumped men, he and Aya stepped out. Chaos reigned, and Youji strung Murakami over the balcony while Aya took out the last remaining assistants, and the buyers who had played witness. Amazingly, they pulled it off without killing themselves.

The mission wasn't one of their prouder ones, executing sloppily and even taking out the buyers who weren't even targets. They staggered to the closest exit, hoping Ken and Omi were in better shape than they were.

"I feel really bad about making Aya and Youji face do everything by themselves." Omi murmured later that night, tucked tight beside Ken.

"They were amazing for two people and seven targets." Ken countered. "And they're getting our share." He sounded none too pleased about it.

"Well, that's only fair." Omi sighed, flopping his head against the pillow restlessly. "Youji just got his stitches out today. And Aya got his in." He gave a crooked smile, "Does that mean anything?" He wondered.

"That you're thinking too damn much." Ken grouched, groping for an extra pillow and smothering the smaller man with it.

"You're too grumpy." Omi muttered when let up for air.

"We left them to a mission by themselves for nothing!" Ken threw the pillow across the room. "I still don't trust him. Drunks aren't that creative." He rolled over on top of Omi, stripping him as he griped.

"I bugged his case." Omi moaned out when he had the breath to do so. Ken jerked up, staring at him.

"What?"

"I bugged the briefcase he keeps his blades in." Omi continued. "The one he takes everywhere." Ken sat up, staring at his little genius of a boyfriend.

"You bugged his case." He smiled slowly, then frowned. "Where's the recording equipment?" He worried.

"The back of the delivery bike." Omi mumbled through a yawn. Incredulous, Ken stared at his little freak of a boyfriend.

"You fit all that high tech gear, into that cheap little shit of a bike?" He rolled onto his back and stared up into the dark. "You are so weird."

"But its smart." Omi countered, a small smile gracing his features.

"Same thing." Ken murmured with a similar little smile.

"No it's not." Omi countered with a giggle, "Youji's weird, that doesn't make him smart."

And the previously morose atmosphere was lost, as always, at Youji's expense.

A/N (3): This is a sillier chapter than most. I guess it was just the mood I was in. I only hope in makes sense. Once again, thanks to those who read and review! Also, from here on out, look for this story as R rated. I think my wording may be a little more graphic than fanfiction.net would approves of for PG-13.

-miyamoto: I aim to please. ^_^

-mayorie: No Schwarz, sorry. With them in the picture, I seem to loose control of the plot. This one's all my baddies. *sigh* I won't be doing Schwarz until Cold Child approves of my Schu-playing ability.

-chibi-chan: Its fun developing Akai! He's screwed up beyond normal Weiss limits, which becomes almost comical.

-tmelange: Thanks, I just thought that near 5,000 words was a little much…

-maelstrom of chaos: Thank you! I hope Aya and Youji are still pleasing you.

Chapter Six will be out soon after I get home. I'm going to Otakon in Baltimore, and should be back August 12th!