Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Chains ❯ Teach Me ( Chapter 49 )

Chapter Forty-Nine: Teach Me



Yohji went to sleep knowing he had the morning shift, but Omi’s knock still felt awfully early. He roused enough to mumble an answer, knowing that if he didn’t get up the blonde would be back and wouldn’t hesitate to come in and assure himself that Yohji was moving. For the moment, he gave only a warning and continued down the hall.

Blinking against the dim light of early morning, Yohji went to adjust his position and became aware of a warm weight against his chest. Looking down, he saw the shock of red hair and realized Aya was still laying half on top of him. The boy had shifted a little during the night and now held loosely around Yohji’s waist while his head rested in the middle of the older man’s chest, rising and falling gently with each of his breaths.

Aya hadn’t moved after Omi’s call, and Yohji was fairly sure he was still sleeping. As far as he knew, there hadn’t been any nightmares during the morning hours, a first, but hardly a precedent considering the brief time they had slept. Carefully, he brushed back some of the boy’s hair, fingers lingering briefly over Aya’s neck to check his pulse. It seemed normal. He was just tired, Yohji supposed; he hadn’t looked well last night, and three hours sleep just wasn’t enough to bring him back.

If the choice had been his, Yohji would have gone back to sleep, glad to let Aya rest on him. But Omi was waiting, and if he came back in, both of them were probably going to the shop. It would be better for Aya to rest and be ready for what they had to accomplish later.

Bracing his left elbow against the mattress, Yohji wrapped his right arm securely around Aya and rolled them over so that the boy was laying back on the mattress. The arms around his waist tightened momentarily when he went to pull away, but they let go instantly when Aya’s eyes opened.

“Sorry,” Yohji whispered, “Didn’t mean to wake you up.”

He had expected a yawn, maybe a sleepy closing of eyes; what he had not counted on was the absolute panic written across Aya’s face.

*** ** ***

“Get back here,” Crawford ordered, voice stern but cold. His strong hand clamped down on Aya’s upper arm, yanking him back to fall across the man’s chest. Again he struggled, trying to press himself up with trembling arms fighting the firm hold around his waist. Crawford just smiled, holding him tighter, pressing their naked bodies together in the center of the large bed.

Aya wanted to fight harder. He wanted to scream, to hit, to flee, but he was always so tired after Crawford’s lessons. He just wanted to go, to the floor, the corner, anywhere that wasn’t near the man who hurt him. But when exhaustion won over, he sagged against Crawford’s chest, breathing hard, feeling the soreness creep over his limbs, through his insides, and feeling, too, the growing hardness pressed against his stomach.

Crawford laughed, a deep, quiet sound. The hardness shifted against his inner thigh as he was tugged up to lay on top of the older man.

“Feel that? I like it when you fight.”

He didn’t want to be the cause of that. What could he do, when even his struggles led to this? Was he so dirty, so wrong, that even his no was an encouragement? He lay limply when the arm around his waist tightened, letting Crawford roll him over like an empty sack of bones. The man’s body was hot and heavy over his own, and the hand that ran through his hair came back to pull it, hard, forcing his head back so that he looked up at the other looming over him.

“Mine, Ran,” Crawford spoke slowly and forcefully, punctuating his words with hard thrusts against Aya’s hip and tender parts, “Mine to have. Mine to punish. Mine to fuck.”

*** ** ***

“Aya! Aya, calm down god damnit!” Yohji yelled, catching Aya’s wrists when the hands came out again to shove at him. Yohji wasn’t afraid of the boy hurting him as much as hurting himself in this almost wild panic. “Aya!”

“Don’t,” Aya pleaded, “please.”

“What?” Yohji asked in return, then, with a sudden, sickening surety, he got it. When he had shifted them over, he had ended up on top of Aya, thinking nothing of it. Now, though, he realized he was resting most of his weight on the boy, leaning close with a single elbow planted on the bed for leverage, one thigh inadvertently placed between Aya’s own. With his wrists caught in Yohji’s right hand, Aya still pressed against the blonde’s chest, trying to scoot backwards and unable to move.

“Oh, no. No, Aya,” Yohji tried to explain, realizing it would be easier if he got the fuck off him. So he did, moving as carefully as possible, getting to his knees and letting go of the slender wrists he’d held captive. Slowly he backed away, kneeling near the far corner of the bed, letting Aya see that he didn’t want that. “It’s okay. I wasn’t–I was trying to let you sleep.”

There wasn’t any recognition in those eyes as Aya sat up and scrambled back against the headboard. His breath came in short gasps through open lips.

Yohji didn’t think Aya knew it was him; he had woken suddenly, not quite there. He sat still, hoping Aya would get it together on his own and worried that any advance on his part would make things worse.

After almost a minute, Aya closed his eyes, breath settling into something closer to normal. But just when Yohji thought it was all getting better, Aya made a quiet sound of distress that might have been Yohji’s name, but it was lost as he ducked his head and drew closer to the head of the bed to curl around himself; when his hand came up to scrape across the new bandage of his left wrist, Yohji moved.

Instantly, he was at Aya’s side, arresting his right hand and holding it between both his own. Violet eyes snapped up.

“We’re not going to do that,” he informed their owner. “Remember?”

The eyes widened, fled, and Aya struggled to find his voice. Finally he managed, “I’m sorry.”

“My fault,” Yohji admitted, gently stroking the back of the thin hand. “I didn’t think.”

They waited a few minutes in silence. Aya’s eyes closed and his shoulders began to slowly relax; Yohji felt his own heart settling back into its normal rhythm. Scaring the hell out of someone was a rough way to wake up, and, truth be told, he much preferred the annoyance of the alarm clock.

~*~

The world was coming to an end: Yohji Kudou was up at eight o’clock in the morning, and he was happy. The reason for this hadn’t struck the blonde until after the fact, but once it had, he had been hard-pressed to keep himself from smiling.

Aya had told him no. Not only had he resisted (albeit not completely intentionally) what her perceived to be a sexual advance, but he had also declined Yohji’s offer to remain in their room.

While it might not have been the breakthrough of the year, it was a hell of a thing to accomplish in under two weeks.

Yohji was comforted by the fact that the boy would tell him no, that he would try to protect himself, and that, to some degree, was learning to express his opinion.

Of course, when Ken asked, Yohji told him he was smiling because he had caught the last customer checking out his ass. The soccer player was not amused.

~*~

During the quiet morning shift, Aya worked in the shop, going from one task to the other as per Yohji’s directions. He was still nervous as at the completion of each one he approached the blonde for another, but it seemed to get better as the day wore on and Yohji praised the little things he accomplished.

Around eleven, Yohji thought he was getting tired and again offered the option of going upstairs for a nap.

“Should I?” Aya questioned, head down and hands catching the edge of his black sweater.

“Only if you want to. Do you want to?” Yohji returned, surprising himself with his patience. It was easier when he could see Aya making progress.

Aya shook his head, no. He hadn’t managed to vocalize it yet, but it was good.

“Okay. Let’s try this then.” Motioning Aya over, they once again took a seat at the worktable. “Ken, bring me some of the roses.”

“Do I look like your maid?” Ken grumped, going to get the flowers just the same. He sat half a dozen of them in front of Yohji and stayed to watch, sitting on the edge of the table furthest from Aya who regarded him with wary eyes.

Yohji pulled some green wrapping papers from the counter behind them, took from the table drawer his clippers, wire, and various other odds and ends, then sent Ken on another errand for baby’s breath and fern leaves. Aya watched attentively.

“Okay,” Yohji started, feeling a little strange teaching arranging with a two-person audience that wasn’t concerned with how fabulous he looked while doing it. Still, Ken could probably learn just as much, if not more, than Aya, so he resolved himself to the impossible task and handed each of them a rose.

~tbc~

Notes: A little longer chapter this time, and next time I think they might be actual plot…maybe…