Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Busted! ❯ One-Shot

***This is a quick light-BL piece inspired by the day that my friends found out about my fanfic writing- I got drunk and said a little more than I should have.

 

So, to mark the end of my “secret”, here's a story about getting faschnickered and speaking too freely. Accordingly, there is OOC behaviour and way too many f-bombs (because I've noticed that, when people get drunk, every second word becomes `fuck'. Or maybe that's just Australians…)***

 

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Yohji dropped back to lie on the floor, purposely getting in Aya's way so that the redhead would have to step right over him to get to the door. Looking up to meet Aya's glare, Yohji just smirked, but that soon disappeared when he got jabbed in the ribs- hard- by Aya's foot as he stepped across Yohji's body.

 

Rubbing his side, the brunette dropped his head to the right, watching the movement of Aya's ass in loose sleep pants. Damn, but that man could rock those unflattering things. Personally, Yohji never bothered with them; sleeping naked was quicker and more attractive.

 

Just after Aya left the room, there was a thud like a body falling against the wall. Yohji giggled- Aya was more drunk than he was letting on.

 

Then Yohji realised that he was giggling; maybe he was just a little drunk as well.

 

Then again, that had been the aim of the night. It was Aya's birthday, and though the man had seemed determined to spend it alone, there was no chance in Hell of Yohji letting that happen.

 

So when Aya had retreated to his room after dinner, it hadn't taken long for Yohji to be knocking on his door, a bottle of vodka and two shotglasses balanced precariously on top of a slab of beer.

 

Eventually, after about a minute of constant knocking, Aya had opened the door. He could only watch as the taller man pushed his way into the room and dropped down on the floor, after setting his present on the bed.

 

“Kudoh, what on earth do you think you're doing? Get. Out!”

 

“Ohhh, no you don't. It's your twenty-first birthday, and I'll be damned if you think you're spending it alone in your little fortress of solitude.”

 

Grabbing a beer, Yohji had cracked it open, holding it out by the neck for Aya to take. Just as he'd been thinking that maybe this hadn't been such a great idea, the swordsman had sighed, rolled his eyes and reached out for the drink.

 

“Whatever, idiot. Just don't expect me to hold your hair back when you throw up after drinking yourself half to death.”

 

Smiling in triumph, Yohji had opened his own bottle, patting the floor to encourage Aya to sit. Reluctantly, with much glaring and muttering, the redhead had joined him on the floor, a good metre or two away from the spot Yohji had indicated.

 

That was good enough for the brunette. He welcomed any physical closeness with Aya, whether it was crouching side-by-side in a cramped ceiling space, or brushing past each other in the packed shop. And, as the amount of alcohol in his system increased, Aya had slowly been moving closer.

 

The pale man probably hadn't even noticed; Yohji hadn't given away a single hint that he'd realised Aya was moving, and Aya wasn't being entirely observant, so it seemed likely that he didn't know he was doing it.

 

Either way, Yohji was happy with the outcome.

 

The chances of him getting anywhere with the redhead tonight, even after the two of them had been through half the beer and two-thirds of the vodka, were virtually non-existent; but he'd actually managed to draw Aya into conversation- nothing too deep, though- and even made him smile.

 

This much proved that Aya wasn't completely repulsed by spending time with him, no matter how detached the bastard acted. So, maybe, eventually, Yohji would be able to drag the other man past friendship…if Aya swung that way.

 

Yohji desperately hoped that Aya did swing that way- or, at the very least, that he was willing to try it.

 

Because really, if Yohji thought it would increase his chances of getting Aya into bed, he'd happily dye his hair green and flounce about in a dress, or something. He'd done worse…probably…

 

Sitting up, Yohji poured himself a glass of vodka, having to concentrate on not spilling the clear liquid everywhere. If he messed up Aya's floor, he'd be out on his ass for certain. Yohji wasn't willing to do anything to ruin this evening…or maybe it was morning by now?

 

Hearing unsteady footsteps heading back down the hall, Yohji looked up just in time to see Aya appear back at the doorway. Raising his shotglass in a little salute, Yohji knocked back the alcohol. He couldn't taste or feel it going down; he really was drunk, now.

 

“Anyway, Aya, wasn't I fuckin' in the middle of a story, or something…?”

 

There was just silence as Aya walked into his room, gracelessly dropping down next to Yohji…a lot closer than he had been before he'd stood up. Yohji couldn't help but notice that if he stretched out his leg, he'd be touching Aya's knee; it took a lot of willpower to stop himself from doing just that.

 

“Oh, yeah, I was! I was just at the bit with the, uh, the fuckin' purple-haired woman, right?”

 

Aya gave a single nod, one that Yohji barely noticed, and turned to pick up his open beer from the floor. It took him a couple of tries before he managed to get his hand around it, though; Yohji almost forgot his story as he watched the way Aya's long fingers curled around the glass.

 

Shaking himself a little, Yohji continued the story he'd been telling before Aya had left the room.

 

“Well, that chick, whatsername, I don't really remember…fuck it, s'not important. She was like, super hot, but she kept ignoring me, stupid little tease, even though she obviously wanted a bit of the ol' Kudoh. So what I did, right, was I jus' walked up to her one day, grabbed her round the waist, and planted' a massive fuckin' kiss, right…there!”

 

With the last word, Yohji leant forward to gesture to Aya's lips with his hand. In his drunken state, he instead would've jabbed Aya right in the temple, had the other man not awkwardly leant to the side.

 

Yohji straightened up and giggled again, but Aya just looked…sad. Ignoring the fact that he'd probably get kicked out for asking, Yohji couldn't help but speak up.

 

“What's wrong, Ayan? Surely it's not so bad, bein' here with me?”

 

Aya glanced over, expression now annoyed but, for once, not angry. Yohji couldn't be entirely certain, but maybe he wasn't going to get kicked out after all.

 

“It's not that, dumbass. It's just…how can y'do that to people? How did y'know that she wasn't going to,” he paused, hiccuping slightly, “beat you up or, um, call the police or something?”

 

“C'mon man, you think any woman's gonna do that to me? They'd hafta be fuckin' insane to reject me like that!”

 

Yohji smiled brightly, but it faded quickly when Aya's sad, pensive look returned. Trust Aya to be a depressing drunk, Yohji thought, shaking his head a little.

 

“But how can you be so confident? Wait, no, stupid ques…question. Of course you're confident, you're fuckin' sexy and ev'ryone knows it.”

 

Yohji wondered vaguely if he'd passed out and was now dreaming- Aya thought he was sexy? And it didn't sound like he was saying it in a bad way, either…

 

By this point, Yohji's internal filter was pretty much gone. He didn't particularly care what he was saying, or who he was saying it to. All that mattered was making Aya smile that gorgeous little half-smile of his, rather than the frown he currently had.

 

“Have you…Aya, have you looked in a fuckin' mirror lately? You'd have t'be one of the most fuckin' good-looking people I've ever met! If you're tryin' to tell me that you've got confidence problems `cause you're ugly, you gotta be fuckin' nuts!”

 

To illustrate his point, Yohji was waving his arms about and gesturing madly. That may or may not have explained why Aya was looking at him like he was insane; not that Yohji noticed. He was distracted by the slight blush spreading over Aya's features, which surely wasn't from the booze.

 

“Stop lyin' to make me feel better, Ku-...K-…Kud-…You. I know I'm a freak, with this fuckin' hair. I always looked like I was adopted or somethin'.”

 

Yohji blinked a few times, his mind trying to work through the alcohol-fuelled haze to make some sense of what Aya was saying. Focusing hard, Yohji managed to work out a few points.

 

One: Aya thought he was freakish, and therefore ugly.

 

Two: That would explain the constantly messy hair and bad colour co-ordination; Aya probably didn't look in mirrors very often, if he was dedicated to the `freak' self-image…and with a quick look around, Yohji determined that there was no mirror hanging in Aya's room.

 

Three: Someone had spent a lot of time telling Aya he was ugly. Yohji was betting on a bastard father…or possibly boys at school, jealous when their girlfriends thought the redhead was cute. Because if Aya used to look anything similar to his current appearance, the girls would've been all over him, just like the flowershop fangirls were now.

 

Four: Aya thought Yohji was sexy, and if Yohji could just break through that barrier of low self-esteem, he would definitely be able to fulfil a couple of fantasies!

 

Yohji didn't realise this, but he had spent several minutes simply staring off into space as he thought, with Aya watching him uncertainly. It was only when the younger man had tipped his head back to drain his beer that the movement had caught Yohji's attention, bringing him back to reality.

 

“Alright, Aya, someone's been lyin' to you, but it sure as Hell ain't me. Take it from a guy who's slept with all th' hottest women and most of th' hottest men in this crappy city- on a scale from one to, ummm, ten, you're a fuckin' ten million.”

 

If Aya noticed the comment about sleeping with men, he didn't mention it. But he didn't look happier…if anything, he looked even more sad. Yohji couldn't help but feel sorry for the guy- he had clearly been through years of bullying because of his odd looks. He truly thought he was ugly when really, Yohji wasn't sure he'd ever met a more gorgeous male.

 

It was a depressing thought.

 

Aya finally looked back at Yohji, his expression resigned.

 

“Yohji…I see what you're tryin' to…”

 

The redhead trailed off, giving out a massive yawn and unsuccessfully fighting back against fluttering eyelids. Yohji sighed internally, knowing that Aya was almost gone for the night. Although he'd definitely gotten somewhere- Aya had opened up about something pretty important, after all- he was still going to have to leave the younger man.

 

Even without the prospect of sex, Yohji found something depressing about the thought of not getting to spend any more time with Aya. He put it down to the fact that he'd always had a thing for cheering people up, and this time he'd failed; that had to be it.

 

“Alright, man, I think it's time I went t' bed, and you did too. We're both smashed off our faces an' you're about t' pass out.”

 

Using the wall to help himself stand, Yohji swayed slightly before holding his hand out to help Aya up. The other man looked at the outstretched limb, up into Yohji's face, and then back to the hand. After a few silent seconds, he finally placed his hand into Yohji's, slowly dragging himself up.

 

Reluctantly, Yohji started to release Aya's hand, until the shorter man attempted to take a step and stumbled slightly. Without thinking, Yohji grabbed him around the waist, forcibly helping the other man despite Aya's feeble, slurred protests.

 

Pulling back the cover, Yohji lowered his armful into the bed, making sure Aya was comfortable before forcing himself to turn around and start to leave the room.

 

It was only when a surprisingly strong hand grabbed the hem of his shirt that he stopped, turning back to Aya with a confused expression on his face. Looking down at the other man, Yohji could see that the redhead was half-asleep already, only the grip on his shirt telling him that Aya wasn't totally dead to the world.

 

“What's up, Ayan?”

 

Aya grunted softly at the use of the hated nickname, clearing his throat slightly before he spoke.

 

“You can barely walk, Kudoh. You're gonna end up passed out in th' hall or somethin'.”

 

“What about it, Aya? S'not like that's anythin' out of the ordinary for me.”

 

Aya's eyes flicked open, settling on Yohji with a not-very-effective glare. He let go of Yohji's shirt, instead pointing his finger at the brunette.

 

“It makes you look pathetic. Get in th' fuckin' bed, now.”

 

He rolled over, violently pointing to the now-empty space in the queen-sized bed. Yohji's eyes widened with surprise and glee; he knew he wasn't going to get laid, but he didn't give a fuck.

 

Aya had voluntarily invited him into bed, and thought that he was sexy. Even though the redhead was drunk off his ass, and would be back to his usual belligerent self tomorrow, for now Yohji was just going to enjoy this slightly friendlier Aya.

 

Still clad in jeans and a t-shirt, Yohji carefully got into Aya's bed, making sure to leave a respectable distance between their bodies. He didn't want to push it too far, this new-found calmness.

 

“Night, Aya. I hope y' birthday was halfway fuckin' decent.”

 

Aya, with his back to the brunette, snorted tiredly.

 

“Shut up, idiot,” and then, quieter, “you know it was…thanks.”

 

As he drifted off to sleep, Yohji smiled to himself- maybe he wouldn't need the green hairdye and the dress after all!

 

---THE END---

 

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***SHAMELESS PLUG: I'm now on LiveJournal! If that's your thing, come visit me under the name `socialdegen' (there's a direct link in my profile, if that's easier). It's looking quite (read: very) pathetic at the moment, so help a poor woman out!***