Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Call Me ❯ Call Me ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: Weiss is not mine, but I have seen them naked.

Author's Notes:

*Subaru-san is seen duct taped to a desk chair, his mouth gagged with a lemon*

Ahem, well, this was going to be a chapter in “Ace of Hearts,” but within the first five minutes of writing it the Evil Hentai Slug took my plot muse hostage and this wandered off in its own smutty direction that doesn't really match the tone of that fic. So I'm calling it a side story, though “story” may be giving it a bit too much credit. Oh well, viva la PWP!

Sometimes this sounds a little harsh or repetitive (think 1970s porno), but I just can't see Yohji telling Aya that he wants to “gently caress the silken flesh of his desperate need” or “slowly enter him with his own throbbing, engorged manhood” so it's a bit blunt (though I must say, someone should really write a fic titled “Engorged”). I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: yaoi, PWP, language

 

Call Me

 

“Mission complete,” Aya spoke into his earpiece as he drove. It was connected to his cell phone rather than being an actual comm link. “Estimated time to pick up?”

“You're early, Abyssinian,” Omi's voice was serious on the other end of the line.

“They were stupid.”

“The target?”

“Eliminated.” Aya barely refrained from rolling his eyes, as if he would have come back otherwise.

“Alright, Aya, take the car to the parking garage and we'll pick you up.” The name change signaled the end of the mission, but Omi sounded as if it was a trial. Aya wondered if he had interrupted something beyond routine monitoring.

“Estimated time?” he asked again, frustrated at Omi's frustration.

“Um…it'll be about five hours. We didn't think you'd be done so quickly. Don't leave the car until we get there.”

“Affirmative.”

~*~

The first hour he scanned the parking garage, noting exits, watching random people go about their business, and idly imagining possible attacks and tactical advantages within the structure. During the second hour, he sifted through the dash, discovered the function of every button, and told himself eight times that napping could be potentially dangerous. Taking off his coat, he checked it for blood, then spent a few minutes undoing and redoing the buckles before folding it and laying it in the back seat. The boredom began to eat on his nerves. Though used to stake outs, sitting in a car lacked the anticipation that kept his attention focused. And while he had waited nine days at the poor excuse for a safe house, it at least gave him room to exercise. At three hours and fourteen minutes (and he was counting minutes at that point), he debated phoning Yohji. It was then that Aya realized he was pathetically bored if the blonde's prattle was an appealing alternative.

Of course he would never really call.

Aya began reading the Corvette's maintenance manual.

~*~

“Omi—”

“Yohji-kun, if you ask me one more time how much further, I'm going to drop you at the next rest area and let you find your own way home.”

“Damn, chibi, what crawled up your ass?”

Ken snorted, Yohji smirked, and Omi pulled the delivery van to the side of the road.

~*~

Yohji sulked in the back of the van. He leaned back against the thick wire mesh that ran from floor to ceiling just behind the front seat, separating the front from the back to keep its theoretical contents in place; Yohji spent a few minutes crossing and rearranging his legs and trying to take the pressure off his ass as it hit the corrugated metal floor with every bump in the road. Finding little relief, he pulled off his jacket and tucked it beneath him. It was better, but his cell phone was now biting into his thigh. Digging it out of the coat pocket, Yohji flipped it open.

~*~

Aya pressed the button on his earpiece, expecting Omi and giving his usual cheerful greeting, “What?”

“Hey there.”

“Yohji.” He wished the tinge of happiness hadn't shown so much in his voice.

“Long time, no see.” They hadn't spoken during the mission, contact not being permitted except in emergencies. “You kill the bastard?”

“Of course.”

“You miss me?”

“…yes.”

“Missed you too.” There was a sound of jarring, then a yell that the phone half caught, “Watch it! I don't have a belt back here!”

“Yohji?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you need something?”

“I just wanna pass some of your time. You would think with ten days to get ready we could make a decent rendezvous. Sorry we're late; I tried to hurry, but Omi had a shit fit when I tried to rush him out without supper. You eat yet?”

Aya was tempted to ask where dinner fit between hiding in an air vent and gutting an immoral CEO, but he settled for a simple, “No.”

“Bored?”

“Yes.”

“Wish I could be there with you.”

“Aa.”

“Know what I'd do? I'd fuck you in the back seat, maybe give you a—”

“Are you alone?”

“No. We're in the van, but I'm in the back by myself.”

“That's risky.”

“The radio's on. Where are you?”

“In the car. Parking garage.”

“Anyone around?”

“Not close.”

“Then let's make love, Aya,” his voice got lower on the last word. “I want you. Do you want me?”

“…yes.” Didn't he always want Yohji?

“Then let me take you.”

“…”

“Are you listening?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Close your eyes and get comfortable,” he paused, obviously expecting his lover to comply, “I'm there with you, sitting in the passenger seat. I can't keep my hands off you, so I reach over, tangling my hand in your hair as I pull you close for a kiss.”

Aya's eyes did close then as he fleetingly immersed himself in the imagined touch of Yohji's hand, his lips.

“Your lips are so soft, Aya. I brush them with my tongue, then slip it in your mouth.”

Yohji paused, waiting, Aya knew. He swallowed hard, not too surprised when the words didn't come.

“C'mon, Aya. You can do this. Maybe you need a shot or two…”

Aya growled a little, knowing that Yohji was referring to his tendency to talk when drunk, and knowing that the blonde was right about his propensity for saying the dirty things that came to mind. He tried not to make it a habit when sober.

“I love it when you do that. When you tell me where you want me to touch you, or where you're gonna touch me.”

“I…”

“Well, if you're not gonna join in, I suppose I'll have to go solo.”

There was that damn anxiety that reared its head when Yohji's sexual skills came to measure against his own; Aya tried to bite it back. “I—”

“Don't apologize. Just listen. Close your eyes again.”

Tense now, Aya found it hard to do.

“Are they closed?”

“Yes.” He closed them, leaning his head against the headrest and trying to relax.

“Okay, I'm with you, remember? I'm sitting beside you, watching you, thinking about how you look under your mission clothes. How much I like to run my hands up under your shirt, over your chest, down your abs, touching you with my hands while you kiss me.

“Thinking about you makes me so hard. I lean my seat back, spread my legs, letting you see the bulge in my pants. I'm wearing the ones you like, the jeans.”

Aya shifted if the seat, but kept his eyes closed.

“I run a hand up my thigh, over my crotch, rubbing myself through my pants. I'm so hard; I don't think I can wait till we get home. Should I? Aya?”

“No.”

He heard Yohji's smile, and the idea of waiting even in his mind was currently very unappealing.

“Keep watching, Aya. I'm leaning down to slip my shoes off, then setting back again to unbutton my jeans. I'm slipping my hand inside to touch my dick. It's hard and hot. It wants out. Can I take it out?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck yeah. I undo the zip and push my pants out of the way. I guess I forgot to wear underwear today…I grab my dick and start to stroke it, slow, up and down, up and down,” a quiet moan, not faked. “I reach my other hand between my legs to cup my balls; they're tight, Aya, full of come. I want you to make me come.”

“Yohji…”

“Talk to me, love. Make me come.”

“I . . . I want to touch you.”

“Do it. Touch me.”

“I reach over and wrap my hand around you.”

“God, it's been too fucking long.” There were shuffling noises, and Yohji's breath was heavier than Aya expected. He idly wondered how long the blonde had thought about the call before making it.

“I use one hand to tug your pants to your knees and . . . stroke your cock.”

“I'm so hard, Aya. Don't stop.”

“I lean over the consol and lick it…run my tongue over the head and down the side.” His mind supplied a vivid memory of the feel of Yohji's skin and, more arousing, the musky scent that clung to his most private parts and drove Aya crazy when he had his nose buried in Yohji's pubic hair. “You smell good there.”

“Ohhh,” it was a breathy exhalation, “Suck it. Please.”

Aya could feel the hesitation seeping out of his words as embarrassment gave way to the very real pressure in his own pants. He wished for the blonde, and tried to put that passion in his words, shedding the cold tone.

“I put my mouth over your cock and swallow it.”

“That. . . feels good, love.”

“I use my tongue as I move up and down, taking all you have while my hand brushes your balls. I can feel your cock at the back of my throat. It's so big, Yohji. I love the way it feels in me.”

“I wanna come, Aya.” Yohji's voice sounded surprised, his breath shallow and quick.

“I pull my mouth, licking you one more time before I back away and take you in my hand, stroking.”

“Faster.”

“My hand slides quickly over your hard cock, tugging it up towards me, watching your face while you pull on my hair. Your eyes are so beautiful when you're like this,” Aya spoke the thought before he could edit it, and earned a low moan in return. “I lean close, breathing on the sensitive tip, opening my mouth . . .”

“Close…so close.”

“Come for me, Yohji.”

“Again!” It was a command issued through clenched teeth.

“Come in my mouth.”

“Ahhh! Fuck!” It was muffled, and Aya imagined Yohji, hunched over his own lap, hand pressed tightly to his mouth as his body shuddered in orgasm. Through the line there was only heavy breathing.

“Yohji?”

“Hang on a second.” The phone was laid down.

Taking a deep breath, Aya opened his eyes and promptly tried to forget all the inappropriate things he had just said. Pushing himself back up in his seat, he reached to adjust the hardon that was now making his leather pants uncomfortably right. Still, he couldn't help but take pleasure in the fact that Yohji had enjoyed their conversation and wondered if the man had intended the consequences, probably. Either way, it had been a good way to pass the time, and they could stage the real version once they got home.

“Aya?”

“Aa.”

“Sorry, I had to readjust my jacket,” he laughed. “That was fantastic.”

“Hn.”

“Better not be backing out on me yet. It's your turn.”

“Huh?”

“Are you hard?”

“…”

“That's a yes.”

“We don't have to.”

A low laugh, “We've got time. Will you do something for me?”

Anything apparently, Aya thought, not without a sigh, but it was directed at himself rather than his lover.

“Maybe.”

“Undo your pants and take your dick out.”

“Here?”

“Yes.”

Slipping the button from its place and lowering the zipper, he pulled back the leather and soft fabric of his underwear, pushing both down around his thighs, just enough to free his erection. He pulled his sleeveless shirt up to bare his flat stomach, letting his erection lay against the pale skin there. It felt odd, vulnerable and erotic, to bare such a thing to the late afternoon light filtering through the windshield.

“Did you?”

“Yes.” There was a touch of embarrassment there again; Yohji usually banished such things, with his causal ease and constant, reassuring words.

“I want you to touch yourself while we talk.”

“…okay.”

“Alright, love, what do you want me to do to you?”

“…” His brain offered a hundred possibilities, pulling various arousing images from their encounters, but none came to his lips quick enough. This wasn't any easier than when Yohji asked him in person.

“Aya?”

“Kiss me.”

“Of course,” he could hear the smile in Yohji's voice, that particular curl of his lips that reminded Aya of a leopard on the hunt. But that image immediately gave way to the one Yohji provided.

“I stare into your eyes, then slip my hand to the back of your neck, bringing your lips back to mine. I press my tongue into your mouth, tasting my own come.”

Aya couldn't stop a little moan at that; Yohji often indulged the swordsman's desire by sharing, but having it spoken was surprisingly erotic. For a second, he thought Yohji might laugh at him, but he seemed encouraged.

“Let's see, since we've got me all cleaned and buttoned up over here, I think you need to sit in my lap Aya. I pull you over the consol, guiding you on top of me. Fold your legs under a little so your knees fit on either side of me and we can feel each other.

“You're warm. I run my hands over your hips, up under your shirt, lifting it up so I can lick your nipple. I love your nipples, Aya, so pink and fucking sensitive. I take one in my mouth, flicking it with my tongue until it's hard. Should I bite it?”

“Yes.” God, did Yohji know everything that turned him on?

“Good, `cause I'm not sure I could resist. I lick it one more time, then nip it with my teeth.”

“Yes!” he hissed.

“Touch yourself, Aya. Right now.”

He didn't open his eyes but reached to grab his dick loosely, making a tentative stroke and finding it considerably harder than it had been. He must have made some kind of noise.

“Yeah, that's it. God, I wanna touch you so much right now.” There was a desperation in the voice, a longing that hit Aya in the depths of his mind where it met its reflection. “I need you.”

“Yohji.” He hoped the blonde could hear the words he didn't say.

“I pull you close on my lap, pressing us together, marking your neck as I shove my hard cock against yours, rubbing them through our pants. I grab your ass so you can't move away, forcing you to thrust against my lap, making you gasp when I bite down on your neck.”

“I'm . . .”

“I know, baby. We won't wait. I'm helping you take your pants off, slipping them down your legs while you balance over me, leaving them on the floor with your shoes and black briefs.”

It probably should have bothered him that Yohji knew what kind of underwear he wore for missions, but it only made the scene more real, caused his hand to grip more tightly around his erection.

“Yours too.”

A little, low laugh that was far from patronizing.

“I bring you back down in my lap, pulling you close to rub my cock against your own. I take them in my hand, holding them together and jacking us both. I'm sucking on your nipples again, and now I feel your dick jump against mine when I bite. You like that, don't you?”

“Yes. Yohji…”

“What? What do you want Aya?”

“I…” he took a breath, hardness trembling against his own palm, “I want…”

“I'll give you anything you want.”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“God, yes! Are you hard Aya?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck yeah. That's good, baby, because I'm so fucking ready. I get the lube from the pocket of my jeans; it's the cherry kind, and it smells sweet when I squeeze it on my fingers.”

“Yohji, we don't—”

“Patience. I put the seat back as far as it will go, pulling you down to lay against my chest while I slip my slick finger down your crack. Feel that?”

“Yes!” And he did, that cool, slick brush that meant Yohji was going to enter him.

“I press my finger against your hole and slip it inside. It's tight, sucking my finger in to the second knuckle. I don't wait, pushing it the rest of the way in, feeling you rock against me, our cocks squished together between us, leaking, begging—”

“Hurry…” It was a real warning. His erection pulsed in his hand. It had been too long, and he had allowed himself no release over the course of the mission. He wanted Yohji to finish it.

“I use my finger to fuck you.” He heard the low whine that came from his throat, but it didn't matter. “You're so tight, so I put another one in, sliding them in and out while a grab your ass with my other hand to keep you still so I can rock against your cock while I finger you.”

He paused, but Aya couldn't get beyond heavy breathing for a response.

“I slide my fingers out of you, gripping your ass with both hand so I can turn us over. You look so fucking good splayed out on the leather seat, your cock reaching out, your legs open for me; I can see all of you. I lean over, wrapping your legs around my waist and rubbing the head of my cock over your hole.”

“Uhn!” His hand had slipped, seemingly of it own volition, down beyond his balls to brush over his entrance. Unable to resist, he brought his feet up, planting his heels on the edge of the seat and bracing his knees against the steering wheel. He yanked his pants down further so that his ass rested bare on the seat.

“Oh, fuck, Aya. I kiss you, hard, while I press into you. You're so tight and hot and perfect. I can't be slow. I can't wait.”

“Do it!”

“I burry my cock in your ass, kissing you senseless as I pull out and do it again . . . and again . . . and again.”

Aya's hand moved in time with Yohji's words as he pressed his own finger into himself. He didn't even think to stifle the sounds he was making.

“I pound into you, hitting your spot. Every. Fucking. Time.”

The rhythm of Yohji's words picked up speed, and Aya followed. He was close, his finger awkwardly searching out his prostrate, needing to mimic Yohji's words, needing to feel—“Ahh!”

“I want you so bad….I move faster, getting off on the sounds you make, the wild look on your face as I fuck you into the seat. But I need you closer. I reach down and lift you up so your hot body is against me. I kneel on the seat and thrust into you while you cling to my neck.”

He felt the sweaty press of their bodies, the sweet pressure on his prostrate, the soft brush of blonde hair against his cheek as he clung to the other man, all wrapped up in Yohji's voice. But he needed Yohji.

“I can't…”

“Please, Aya.”

“Yohji…I need…”

“What, Aya? Tell me.”

“I need you.”

“I'll be there soon. I'll take you home and make love to you. Trust me. It's okay to let it go.”

“Uhn…Yohji…”

“I feel your hard cock against my belly. I let you fall back to the seat, lifting your legs over my shoulder, pounding into you as you arch your back. I take your cock in my hand and grip it, letting you thrust up into it as I fuck you.”

He steadied his hand, limited in his movements but content to lift his hips to thrust against his own fist, pressing his finger more firmly against the sensitized spot, trembling as pleasure coiled tight in his thighs and stomach and balls.

“Being inside you feels so damn good; I can't hold back. I can feel your muscles around my cock, clenching me tight, wet with lube and so fucking perfect. I plunge deep, and I lose it. I let all my hot come out inside you.”

That was it, the last vivid image that undid him, springing the coil and releasing rough waves of pleasure through his body.

He heard himself gasp, a breathless sound that wanted to be his lover's name. The image vanished into bright white and then nothing. His balls jerked, dick spurting with surprising force, white come landing over his bare abdomen and lifted shirt.

He came back to Yohji's soft voice, whispering gentle words into his ear.

Gingerly, he removed his hands from his sweating body, trying to breathe as he returned to himself, slowly starting to feel the damp hair hanging around his face, catching on his earpiece, the protesting muscles of his legs still cramped against the wheel, and the cooling mess on his stomach.

“It was wonderful, Aya, really,” Yohji continued.

Aya tried to summon his voice, finding his throat dry and wondering how loud he had actually been.

“Thank you,” he finally managed as he turned to dig through the consol. There were a few wrinkled napkins in the bottom, and he used them to clean himself up the best he could. He sat up and pulled his shirt down, hoping the damp spots wouldn't dry too noticeably. His pants came up reluctantly. Opening the window, he felt the cool air of the garage against his flushed face.

Yohji was still talking.

“…when we get home, I am going to get you to say every dirty thing you can think of—”

“You intend to get me drunk, then?” He asked with a half-smile on his lips as he dropped his elbow out the window and rested his head on his arm.

“If I have to.”

“Hm,” it was contemplative.

“Hey, do you want—hang on.”

There was some muffled conversation that Aya couldn't quite make out, and he guessed Yohji had a hand over the speaker.

“Goddamn kids and their fucking bullshit—hey, I gotta go.”

“Okay.”

“I'll see you in bit.”

The call ended with a soft click, and Aya lifted the earpiece off to examine it before laying it on the dash.

~*~

Aya had just ripped the fifth page out of the owner's manual when the van pulled up. He quickly tucked it back into the book along with the origami crane that had been advice on oil changes and a slightly skewed ladybug with air filter specifications on its back. Plucking his coat from the back seat, he slid his phone and earpiece into the pocket before stepping out of the Corvette.

He watched Yohji jump out of the back of the white van as soon as Omi opened the doors. His tight, stonewashed jeans rode low on his hips at least three inches below his white crop top, and his blonde hair was restrained only by the ever-present sunglasses perched on his head. Leaning against the car, Aya resisted an impulsive urge to smile.

Yohji had no such reservations and smiled widely as he lifted his hands; a plastic bag dangled from one and a paper cup in the other.

“Dinner,” he pronounced, taking the swordsman's coat in exchange for the soft drink.

“What is it?” Aya questioned as they walked back together.

“Cheap sushi, `cause I knew you wouldn't eat Moss Burger.”

Tilting his head in silent thanks, he took the bag.

“Omi made me sit in the back all the way here,” Yohji complained loudly, casting a fake glare at the boy as he stood stretching by the vehicle.

“You did that to yourself,” Omi stated when the older man managed to look very put upon.

“C'mon, Aya,” Yohji opened the back door with all the gallantry of a knight, “I found a blanket we can sit on.”

~tbc?~

 

This was something new for me, and I'd really love to hear what you guys thought of it! Please? Oh, and as a reward for reviews, I have an idea for a sequel and you get to pick: shall we have Aya and Yohji getting naughty in the van and barely being able to make it home, or do we have Aya and Yohji getting so naughty in the van that they have to have a pit stop? Now, the only thing between you and naughty bishounen sex is that review button…