Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Chains ❯ Thank Me ( Chapter 60 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Miko No Hoshi 
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Romance / Drama | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 12.29.2010 | Pages: 3 | Words: 3.8K | Visits: 261 | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Romance / Drama | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 12.29.2010 | Pages: 3 | Words: 3.8K | Visits: 261 | Status: Work In Progress
Notes: Thanks for your patience. Here’s an extra-long chapter. Thank you all!
Chapter Warnings: some het sexual content, language (as always it seems)
Chapter Sixty: Thank Me
The week passed in a blur, his days full of work and taking care of Aya. The girls were beginning to talk since he had been turning down dates with so many eligible ladies over eighteen. They had developed a number of theories ranging from a bad case of the flu to true love to an unpleasant encounter with the clap; he was even rumored to be engaged. Assuring them that it was all nonsense, he made sure to flirt just a little more and to make a date with one Mayumi, a toned, tanned girl of twenty who had tits too fabulous to pass up. Her short skirt said she was easy, and easy was exactly what he needed.
In fact, as the week neared its end, Yohji found himself in desperate need of a good fuck. His mind had body had, apparently, suddenly decided to rebel against his newfound lifestyle of sporadic gratification. This alone was not a surprise, the fact that his brain had decided to fixate on Aya was.
While he had had the decency not to repeat the gym incident, he couldn’t help but revel in the little contacts he made with the boy despite the guilt that followed. There were casual brushes of his arm as Yohji led him from one place to another, the hand he placed on the sweat-damp back as he walked Aya to the car after practice, the lingering hold of a hand when he cut the boy’s nails back again. And Aya would look at him with those eyes, eyes deeper than they had any right to be, full of thoughts that he wasn’t giving voice to. The mystery of those eyes lured Yohji in.
It had been happening all along, he realized, building in his subconscious, fueled by innocent contact and held at bay by the solid idea that he would break Aya if he tried anything.
But Aya was getting stronger, and the interest only grew, enough that his conscious mind finally had to notice the attraction.
No, not attraction, he amended. Fascination.
That’s all.
He repeated this to himself for had to be the hundredth time as he wandered out to the greenhouse. The rush had passed, and it was time to fetch Aya back in. He usually got the other earlier, in enough time to help with the closing chores after the girls had left, but Aya had been eager to get to his plants, so Yohji left him with them as long as possible.
Poking his head the greenhouse door, he was met with heat and the earthy smell of potting soil. Since Aya had started watering the plants, the structure was gaining humidity too. The redhead stood by one of the long tables, carefully preparing yet another tray of seeds. There were at least forty of them now, lined up along the table, carefully grouped and marked by the seed packets that had fast become Aya’s treasures.
Yohji came over to investigate the first of Aya’s plantings. The tiniest bit of green was starting to show in one of the clay pots. “Shift’s over.”
Aya nodded, wiping his fingers on his apron. It was long and green, and though it clashed horribly with the orange sweater he was wearing, Yohji thought he had made the right choice; besides, Omi’s box of aprons had contained only green or pink, and fuchsia was not going to do the Aya any favors.
After Yohji set the alarm, they walked together back to the shop. Ken was finishing the last of the sweeping, and Omi was counting the drawer. Yohji took off his apron and Aya quickly followed suit, revealing the orange sweater in all its horrid glory. It really was bad, Yohji thought, but Aya liked it because it was soft and big and hid the collar. And it made him look, well, sort of normal. Plus, the jeans were decent, fitted, showing the slender shape of his thighs. They would be better if Yohji could have talked him in to the black t-shirt. Aya didn’t like to wear short sleeves, but maybe with something over it…
Caught up in his consideration of clothes, Yohji found Omi staring at him curiously.
“Huh?”
Omi sighed, “Pay day, Yohji-kun.” Oh, well, that made sense, seeing as how Omi was trying to get him to take an envelope with money in it. The flower shop didn’t do much more than break even, so their paychecks were never really anything of note, at least not when compared to their night job. However, with Kritiker’s payments currently on hiatus, the forty thousand yen seemed a lot more attractive than it usually did. Not that any of them were hurting for money; even Yohji had managed to save a considerable sum, despite his attempt to drink it all.
Truth be told, he couldn’t care less what his bank balance was. As long as there was money enough in his pocket to buy what he wanted. He didn’t have a lot of hope in the future, so there wasn’t much point shoring up for a backup plan that was never going to happen.
Yohji turned from these dark thoughts to watch Aya watching Omi who was trying to get him to take the envelope with his name on it. Aya wasn’t making it easy as he stood and stared at thing like it was a bomb about to take his hand off. Reaching out, Yohji took it in his stead. Both parties seemed relieved.
~*~
Again Yohji set Aya at the table, now so that he could pull out the bills out of the envelope and put them in front of him.
“We’ll get you a wallet or something. I think I’ve got an old one upstairs somewhere.”
The boy just watched him.
“This is your paycheck, Aya, from working in the shop. You’ve had a job before?”
No, Aya shook his head. He reached a hand up to his hair, but when Yohji looked, he dropped it.
“You know how it works, though.”
There was a slight narrowing of purple eyes, but Aya only nodded. Still, he made no move to take the money placed in front of him. Deciding it was too much, Yohji simplified. Picking up the bills, he divided them into four stacks of ten thousand yen each.
“Okay, so this much,” he shuffled one stack to the side, “we give to Omi for rent and food and stuff.”
Again, Aya nodded, apparently in a quiet mood. Yohji let it go, glad he was being generally agreeable.
“This much,” he slid the second over, “goes to me for the sword. We’ll do that a little at a time until you pay it off.”
He didn’t really care about the money, but it was important for Aya to realize the katana was his. Yohji would no more go into a mission with a borrowed weapon than with an unloaded gun. That was what kept you alive, and Aya needed to know that he had complete control over it.
“Shouldn’t…I…I owe you more, for the other things,” he suggested quietly.
Yohji waved it away, “Those were gifts. I just want the sword to be yours. Understand?”
Aya nodded again, then, as Yohji waited, said quietly, “Thank you…for the things. For…”
Yohji saw that it was hard for him, and having got the gist of it, was more than content with Aya’s appreciation.
“You’re welcome,” he cut the boy off. “Now, for the good part. This much is yours to spend.”
Aya looked at it with concentration. Left to his own devices, Yohji had no idea what the boy would do with the money. Hopefully, he wouldn’t use it to buy a bus ticket. Yohji didn’t think that would happen, but it wouldn’t hurt to give him another direction.
“Come on, get your coat on.”
~*~
The heavy wooden door swung inward, and Yohji held it open as he motioned Aya inside. Unsure, the boy stepped past him and into the warmth of the large store. It looked almost cozy despite its size, with light brown carpets and deep beige walls, setting off the rows of wooden shelves and well-placed comfortable chairs. At five-thirty, it was nearly empty save for a few customers browsing the shelves and one lone man drinking coffee at the small, open shop to the side.
For a moment, he just watched Aya, caught up in the way his long, white coat hugged his thin waist, so much like a woman’s. And the hands, too, long and elegant as they clutched at one another in front of him, hinting at some emotion the boy was holding back. Purple eyes looked around, cautiously amazed, then finally returned to Yohji, interrupting his contemplation and making him more resolved in his task.
“Want to pick out a few things?” he asked, coming to stand close to Aya’s side. The boy ducked his head, but it came back up almost instantly.
“Really?”
Yohji nodded, unable to suppress a smile at the reserved excitement; he had never seen Aya so…glad to be anywhere.
“You’ve got money now, so you can get what you want,” he explained, just in case the other hadn’t put two and two together. He had learned to be increasingly careful about those explanatory statements in the last week, Aya quick to read them as an insult to his mental ability, not that he said as much, but it was getting easier for Yohji to read the hints of aggravation.
Aya looked around, and again back at him, “Really?”
Yohji laughed softly. Aya had never questioned anything he had said, and yet twice in five minutes he had needed reassurance that Yohji really, really wanted him to get something he wanted. Suddenly, it made him a little sad as he wondered how long it had been since anyone even considered what Aya wanted.
“Yeah, really.”
Having convinced Aya to lead the way, a thing he was obviously not comfortable with, Yohji followed him around the bookstore. It might have been boring, but Yohji found himself entertained by small things like the way Aya bit at his lower lip or the way he stared at the rows of books, his head tilted slightly to the side as if the angle helped him to read better. For a while, the boy only looked, hands tucked carefully close to his body as he passed in front of the shelves. Finally, he reached out to touch one of the covers, jerking instantly back.
“It’s not gonna bite,” Yohji offered.
“I know,” Aya snapped quickly, then, “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Yohji shook his head. The boy really had a temper, but it didn’t bother him. Actually, it was a relief to see Aya defend himself. Stepping in close to Aya’s side, he asked quietly, “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing, Yohji,” Aya replied, staring at his shoes. He reached up to tug on his hair. Gently, Yohji caught the hand; reaching past Aya, he picked up the book the boy had touched and put it in his hand. The redhead seemed stunned, for a second, then he flipped it over to read the back.
~*~
Aya was happy. Yohji was sure of it for the first time, and it made him almost giddy.
Sitting in the passenger seat of the Seven, Aya held the bag of books pressed closely to his chest, constantly looking into the open top like he was making sure they were real. After figuring out that Yohji was really going to let him buy them, he had been excited to be in the bookstore, going from one shelf to the other and reading book descriptions with wide, active eyes.
For a while, Yohji had been almost ignored, but once he asked a couple questions, he found Aya almost talkative. The boy was relaxed, a little distracted, and in a good mood; Yohji had found out not only what Aya liked to read, but also that he used to spend his allowance on books and that he used to write a little. That conversation had been cut off when Aya seemed to realize what he had said, but he still answered more innocuous questions.
They ended up with five books, though Yohji suspected Aya was showing a good amount of restraint with even that many. He had paid with his own money, hesitant in the interaction and stepping just a little closer to Yohji. The blonde had reached around him to get the change and receipt when Aya had tensed at the clerk’s motions. Overall, though, it had gone better than Yohji could have expected.
Now, seeing Aya’s obvious involvement, he wished he hadn’t done it with an ulterior motive.
But Yohji needed out, for just a little while, and Aya having something else to do was going to let him escape.
Loathe to end the pleasant mood, but unable to put off the conversation much longer, he started in.
“Hey, after your lesson tonight, I’m going out for a while, okay?”
Aya was instantly tense, but he nodded.
“I talked to Omi, and he’s just gonna be watching television tonight, so you’ll have someone to stay with.” Actually, he had bargained with Omi, trading an afternoon shift for a few hours of babysitting. He hadn’t called it that, of course, not even behind Aya’s back. “And you can read your books.”
“Yes, Yohji,” Aya said.
Yohji sighed, having completely deflated any excitement. He couldn’t help it. He had to go, or he was going to give in and do something stupid. Aya was too pretty, even in his resignation.
~*~
Yohji had dressed while Aya was in the shower, sliding into clothes he had recently neglected. It felt good to tug the stonewashed jeans around his hips, belting them to hold the look barely on the side of decency. He added a sleeveless white crop top. It wasn’t exactly date attire, but Mayumi wasn’t going to mind. They weren’t doing dinner and dancing, heading straight to a nearby club and then, hopefully quickly, back to her place.
His plans were almost derailed when Aya walked into the room. Dressed in his light blue pajamas, the ones that fell, the tiniest bit, off his shoulder and over his hands, he looked at Yohji. His hair was damp, clinging in long strands to his face which was flushed pink from a too-hot shower.
Yohji moved without thinking, stepping close to brush back one of those long eartails, letting his hand linger in the soft hair. Aya tipped his head slightly into the safe touch as his eyes closed. Just as his fingers made for the pale neck—
“You have to go?”
Yohji swallowed hard and stepped back, “Yeah. Come on.”
~*~
He left Aya sitting in the living room chair, holding tightly to one of his new books, and watching every step Yohji took. He had made assurances, repeatedly, and garnered yet another promise from Omi not to leave the redhead until he was in bed. Aya was tired from his lesson, so hopefully it wouldn’t be long, and he had something to occupy him.
It wouldn’t be like last time.
Still, doubt nagged at his mind. As Mayumi met him at the club door, he wondered what Aya was doing. As she followed him inside, he wondered if Omi had fed Aya anything. And as he ordered drinks for both of them, he wondered if Aya was wondering where he was.
~*~
It was going to happen again.
Yohji had gone, and now they would come back.
Aya’s stomach twisted into a hard knot as he sank back into the chair. He couldn’t do anything to stop them. Schuldig would come, and now he would be punished for all the things he had forgotten. And if Crawford came…
Aya tried to stop himself from shaking, closing his fists hard and trying to focus on the pain as his nails bit into his palms.
Okay. He would be okay. Yohji had said that.
He trusted Yohji.
But the man was gone, and there were so many places they could be hiding. Maybe if Omi would turn on all the lights, then he could make sure that no one was in the corners or hiding behind the—
You’re being paranoid, he told himself, stop it. And breathe.
If they were going to come, they would. There wasn’t any point in being scared over it.
Resolved, but not quite able to stem the trembling of his hands, Aya picked up the novel he had gotten earlier that day. It was a strange, thick thing in his hands. He was fortunate that Yohji allowed him this. He was grateful for everything Yohji had done, and though he tried not to think about it, he couldn’t help but wonder if the blonde really could help find Aya-chan.
He would give anything to see her again. Never again would he take for granted one moment in her presence. He would be a good brother. Yohji was helping him get stronger, and if he was good enough…if they found her…if…
No. He couldn’t even think it.
Aya’s life didn’t work that way.
But Yohji said…
Shaking his head, Aya moved his focus forcibly to the pages of the book.
~*~
“C’mon, Yohji, dance with me,” Mayumi tugged on his arm. She was getting anxious, one hand toying with the silver chain that hung around her neck, draped between her large breasts which were barely contained by the blue, spaghetti strap top. They were really nice, Yohji decided, and knocking back his forth shot of Crown, he turned to follow her onto the crowded dance floor.
She smiled widely at him and draped her tanned arms over his shoulders. He pulled her close, already swaying with the music, a steady, deep rhythm without words. She giggled when his hands went from her waist to her ass, gripping it through the denim miniskirt. It was good, but there was no thrill in it.
Closing his eyes, Yohji tried to give himself over to the sensations. He could feel the soft press of her body, the clinging strands of her long, dark hair as the caught on his cheek, the light scrape of her acrylic nails as they ran down his back. It wasn’t doing anything for him. It should have, as frustrated as he had been and as long as he waited. Maybe he just needed another drink.
~*~
“Are you trying to get me drunk, Yohji?” Mayumi smiled over the rim of her pink cocktail. She had a pretty smile and pretty lips; they were full and tinted with pink gloss the same color as her drink.
“Not at all,” Yohji assured, knocking back another shot of whiskey. They were sitting at the bar, and Yohji knew the bartender. So when he raised his hand for another, it was delivered in short order. Yohji was a regular and a good tipper.
~*~
Yohji leaned heavily back against the stone wall, hands clenching at nothing as his cock disappeared between those perfect lips. He tried to stay still as her tongue worked him, but it was almost impossible. He was so hard, and he just needed it. So he closed his eyes and grabbed her hair.
There was no hesitation, just one hand on his lean thigh and another at the base of his cock where it hung out of his open jeans, keeping him from going too far. He closed his eyes again and rode the sensations, now more intense. Hot and wet and exactly what he had been thinking about. Yohji wanted to last longer; he usually did, but he was more drunk than he wanted to be and decided that it didn’t fucking matter. He was close, and when the mouth was taken away, he couldn’t even think.
“What?” he breathed.
The hands were touching him, putting his hardon back into his tight pants with difficulty. No.
“No.”
“Yes,” a voice told him, patting the tight bulge affectionately. “Let’s go back to—”
“Aya,” he complained, the name on his lips before he realized it was in his head.
“What?!”
He finally got his eyes open to see the person in front of him. Angry brown eyes met his. Brown, not purple.
“Asuka?”
His head turned with the force of the slap to his cheek.
“You bastard,” the girl hissed. “You’re so drunk you don’t even know where your dick is. I can’t believe you even got it up.”
“I—”
“Save it. I’m out of here, you useless fuck.”
She shoved him hard against the wall and walked away. Yohji watched, feeling confused and unsteady, sensations that concentrated in the throbbing between his legs.
Aya, he just needed to find Aya.
~tbc~
Review to get Yohji off this cliff. Please?
Converting /tmp/phpDPdCSl to /dev/stdout
Chapter Warnings: some het sexual content, language (as always it seems)
Chapter Sixty: Thank Me
The week passed in a blur, his days full of work and taking care of Aya. The girls were beginning to talk since he had been turning down dates with so many eligible ladies over eighteen. They had developed a number of theories ranging from a bad case of the flu to true love to an unpleasant encounter with the clap; he was even rumored to be engaged. Assuring them that it was all nonsense, he made sure to flirt just a little more and to make a date with one Mayumi, a toned, tanned girl of twenty who had tits too fabulous to pass up. Her short skirt said she was easy, and easy was exactly what he needed.
In fact, as the week neared its end, Yohji found himself in desperate need of a good fuck. His mind had body had, apparently, suddenly decided to rebel against his newfound lifestyle of sporadic gratification. This alone was not a surprise, the fact that his brain had decided to fixate on Aya was.
While he had had the decency not to repeat the gym incident, he couldn’t help but revel in the little contacts he made with the boy despite the guilt that followed. There were casual brushes of his arm as Yohji led him from one place to another, the hand he placed on the sweat-damp back as he walked Aya to the car after practice, the lingering hold of a hand when he cut the boy’s nails back again. And Aya would look at him with those eyes, eyes deeper than they had any right to be, full of thoughts that he wasn’t giving voice to. The mystery of those eyes lured Yohji in.
It had been happening all along, he realized, building in his subconscious, fueled by innocent contact and held at bay by the solid idea that he would break Aya if he tried anything.
But Aya was getting stronger, and the interest only grew, enough that his conscious mind finally had to notice the attraction.
No, not attraction, he amended. Fascination.
That’s all.
He repeated this to himself for had to be the hundredth time as he wandered out to the greenhouse. The rush had passed, and it was time to fetch Aya back in. He usually got the other earlier, in enough time to help with the closing chores after the girls had left, but Aya had been eager to get to his plants, so Yohji left him with them as long as possible.
Poking his head the greenhouse door, he was met with heat and the earthy smell of potting soil. Since Aya had started watering the plants, the structure was gaining humidity too. The redhead stood by one of the long tables, carefully preparing yet another tray of seeds. There were at least forty of them now, lined up along the table, carefully grouped and marked by the seed packets that had fast become Aya’s treasures.
Yohji came over to investigate the first of Aya’s plantings. The tiniest bit of green was starting to show in one of the clay pots. “Shift’s over.”
Aya nodded, wiping his fingers on his apron. It was long and green, and though it clashed horribly with the orange sweater he was wearing, Yohji thought he had made the right choice; besides, Omi’s box of aprons had contained only green or pink, and fuchsia was not going to do the Aya any favors.
After Yohji set the alarm, they walked together back to the shop. Ken was finishing the last of the sweeping, and Omi was counting the drawer. Yohji took off his apron and Aya quickly followed suit, revealing the orange sweater in all its horrid glory. It really was bad, Yohji thought, but Aya liked it because it was soft and big and hid the collar. And it made him look, well, sort of normal. Plus, the jeans were decent, fitted, showing the slender shape of his thighs. They would be better if Yohji could have talked him in to the black t-shirt. Aya didn’t like to wear short sleeves, but maybe with something over it…
Caught up in his consideration of clothes, Yohji found Omi staring at him curiously.
“Huh?”
Omi sighed, “Pay day, Yohji-kun.” Oh, well, that made sense, seeing as how Omi was trying to get him to take an envelope with money in it. The flower shop didn’t do much more than break even, so their paychecks were never really anything of note, at least not when compared to their night job. However, with Kritiker’s payments currently on hiatus, the forty thousand yen seemed a lot more attractive than it usually did. Not that any of them were hurting for money; even Yohji had managed to save a considerable sum, despite his attempt to drink it all.
Truth be told, he couldn’t care less what his bank balance was. As long as there was money enough in his pocket to buy what he wanted. He didn’t have a lot of hope in the future, so there wasn’t much point shoring up for a backup plan that was never going to happen.
Yohji turned from these dark thoughts to watch Aya watching Omi who was trying to get him to take the envelope with his name on it. Aya wasn’t making it easy as he stood and stared at thing like it was a bomb about to take his hand off. Reaching out, Yohji took it in his stead. Both parties seemed relieved.
~*~
Again Yohji set Aya at the table, now so that he could pull out the bills out of the envelope and put them in front of him.
“We’ll get you a wallet or something. I think I’ve got an old one upstairs somewhere.”
The boy just watched him.
“This is your paycheck, Aya, from working in the shop. You’ve had a job before?”
No, Aya shook his head. He reached a hand up to his hair, but when Yohji looked, he dropped it.
“You know how it works, though.”
There was a slight narrowing of purple eyes, but Aya only nodded. Still, he made no move to take the money placed in front of him. Deciding it was too much, Yohji simplified. Picking up the bills, he divided them into four stacks of ten thousand yen each.
“Okay, so this much,” he shuffled one stack to the side, “we give to Omi for rent and food and stuff.”
Again, Aya nodded, apparently in a quiet mood. Yohji let it go, glad he was being generally agreeable.
“This much,” he slid the second over, “goes to me for the sword. We’ll do that a little at a time until you pay it off.”
He didn’t really care about the money, but it was important for Aya to realize the katana was his. Yohji would no more go into a mission with a borrowed weapon than with an unloaded gun. That was what kept you alive, and Aya needed to know that he had complete control over it.
“Shouldn’t…I…I owe you more, for the other things,” he suggested quietly.
Yohji waved it away, “Those were gifts. I just want the sword to be yours. Understand?”
Aya nodded again, then, as Yohji waited, said quietly, “Thank you…for the things. For…”
Yohji saw that it was hard for him, and having got the gist of it, was more than content with Aya’s appreciation.
“You’re welcome,” he cut the boy off. “Now, for the good part. This much is yours to spend.”
Aya looked at it with concentration. Left to his own devices, Yohji had no idea what the boy would do with the money. Hopefully, he wouldn’t use it to buy a bus ticket. Yohji didn’t think that would happen, but it wouldn’t hurt to give him another direction.
“Come on, get your coat on.”
~*~
The heavy wooden door swung inward, and Yohji held it open as he motioned Aya inside. Unsure, the boy stepped past him and into the warmth of the large store. It looked almost cozy despite its size, with light brown carpets and deep beige walls, setting off the rows of wooden shelves and well-placed comfortable chairs. At five-thirty, it was nearly empty save for a few customers browsing the shelves and one lone man drinking coffee at the small, open shop to the side.
For a moment, he just watched Aya, caught up in the way his long, white coat hugged his thin waist, so much like a woman’s. And the hands, too, long and elegant as they clutched at one another in front of him, hinting at some emotion the boy was holding back. Purple eyes looked around, cautiously amazed, then finally returned to Yohji, interrupting his contemplation and making him more resolved in his task.
“Want to pick out a few things?” he asked, coming to stand close to Aya’s side. The boy ducked his head, but it came back up almost instantly.
“Really?”
Yohji nodded, unable to suppress a smile at the reserved excitement; he had never seen Aya so…glad to be anywhere.
“You’ve got money now, so you can get what you want,” he explained, just in case the other hadn’t put two and two together. He had learned to be increasingly careful about those explanatory statements in the last week, Aya quick to read them as an insult to his mental ability, not that he said as much, but it was getting easier for Yohji to read the hints of aggravation.
Aya looked around, and again back at him, “Really?”
Yohji laughed softly. Aya had never questioned anything he had said, and yet twice in five minutes he had needed reassurance that Yohji really, really wanted him to get something he wanted. Suddenly, it made him a little sad as he wondered how long it had been since anyone even considered what Aya wanted.
“Yeah, really.”
Having convinced Aya to lead the way, a thing he was obviously not comfortable with, Yohji followed him around the bookstore. It might have been boring, but Yohji found himself entertained by small things like the way Aya bit at his lower lip or the way he stared at the rows of books, his head tilted slightly to the side as if the angle helped him to read better. For a while, the boy only looked, hands tucked carefully close to his body as he passed in front of the shelves. Finally, he reached out to touch one of the covers, jerking instantly back.
“It’s not gonna bite,” Yohji offered.
“I know,” Aya snapped quickly, then, “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Yohji shook his head. The boy really had a temper, but it didn’t bother him. Actually, it was a relief to see Aya defend himself. Stepping in close to Aya’s side, he asked quietly, “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing, Yohji,” Aya replied, staring at his shoes. He reached up to tug on his hair. Gently, Yohji caught the hand; reaching past Aya, he picked up the book the boy had touched and put it in his hand. The redhead seemed stunned, for a second, then he flipped it over to read the back.
~*~
Aya was happy. Yohji was sure of it for the first time, and it made him almost giddy.
Sitting in the passenger seat of the Seven, Aya held the bag of books pressed closely to his chest, constantly looking into the open top like he was making sure they were real. After figuring out that Yohji was really going to let him buy them, he had been excited to be in the bookstore, going from one shelf to the other and reading book descriptions with wide, active eyes.
For a while, Yohji had been almost ignored, but once he asked a couple questions, he found Aya almost talkative. The boy was relaxed, a little distracted, and in a good mood; Yohji had found out not only what Aya liked to read, but also that he used to spend his allowance on books and that he used to write a little. That conversation had been cut off when Aya seemed to realize what he had said, but he still answered more innocuous questions.
They ended up with five books, though Yohji suspected Aya was showing a good amount of restraint with even that many. He had paid with his own money, hesitant in the interaction and stepping just a little closer to Yohji. The blonde had reached around him to get the change and receipt when Aya had tensed at the clerk’s motions. Overall, though, it had gone better than Yohji could have expected.
Now, seeing Aya’s obvious involvement, he wished he hadn’t done it with an ulterior motive.
But Yohji needed out, for just a little while, and Aya having something else to do was going to let him escape.
Loathe to end the pleasant mood, but unable to put off the conversation much longer, he started in.
“Hey, after your lesson tonight, I’m going out for a while, okay?”
Aya was instantly tense, but he nodded.
“I talked to Omi, and he’s just gonna be watching television tonight, so you’ll have someone to stay with.” Actually, he had bargained with Omi, trading an afternoon shift for a few hours of babysitting. He hadn’t called it that, of course, not even behind Aya’s back. “And you can read your books.”
“Yes, Yohji,” Aya said.
Yohji sighed, having completely deflated any excitement. He couldn’t help it. He had to go, or he was going to give in and do something stupid. Aya was too pretty, even in his resignation.
~*~
Yohji had dressed while Aya was in the shower, sliding into clothes he had recently neglected. It felt good to tug the stonewashed jeans around his hips, belting them to hold the look barely on the side of decency. He added a sleeveless white crop top. It wasn’t exactly date attire, but Mayumi wasn’t going to mind. They weren’t doing dinner and dancing, heading straight to a nearby club and then, hopefully quickly, back to her place.
His plans were almost derailed when Aya walked into the room. Dressed in his light blue pajamas, the ones that fell, the tiniest bit, off his shoulder and over his hands, he looked at Yohji. His hair was damp, clinging in long strands to his face which was flushed pink from a too-hot shower.
Yohji moved without thinking, stepping close to brush back one of those long eartails, letting his hand linger in the soft hair. Aya tipped his head slightly into the safe touch as his eyes closed. Just as his fingers made for the pale neck—
“You have to go?”
Yohji swallowed hard and stepped back, “Yeah. Come on.”
~*~
He left Aya sitting in the living room chair, holding tightly to one of his new books, and watching every step Yohji took. He had made assurances, repeatedly, and garnered yet another promise from Omi not to leave the redhead until he was in bed. Aya was tired from his lesson, so hopefully it wouldn’t be long, and he had something to occupy him.
It wouldn’t be like last time.
Still, doubt nagged at his mind. As Mayumi met him at the club door, he wondered what Aya was doing. As she followed him inside, he wondered if Omi had fed Aya anything. And as he ordered drinks for both of them, he wondered if Aya was wondering where he was.
~*~
It was going to happen again.
Yohji had gone, and now they would come back.
Aya’s stomach twisted into a hard knot as he sank back into the chair. He couldn’t do anything to stop them. Schuldig would come, and now he would be punished for all the things he had forgotten. And if Crawford came…
Aya tried to stop himself from shaking, closing his fists hard and trying to focus on the pain as his nails bit into his palms.
Okay. He would be okay. Yohji had said that.
He trusted Yohji.
But the man was gone, and there were so many places they could be hiding. Maybe if Omi would turn on all the lights, then he could make sure that no one was in the corners or hiding behind the—
You’re being paranoid, he told himself, stop it. And breathe.
If they were going to come, they would. There wasn’t any point in being scared over it.
Resolved, but not quite able to stem the trembling of his hands, Aya picked up the novel he had gotten earlier that day. It was a strange, thick thing in his hands. He was fortunate that Yohji allowed him this. He was grateful for everything Yohji had done, and though he tried not to think about it, he couldn’t help but wonder if the blonde really could help find Aya-chan.
He would give anything to see her again. Never again would he take for granted one moment in her presence. He would be a good brother. Yohji was helping him get stronger, and if he was good enough…if they found her…if…
No. He couldn’t even think it.
Aya’s life didn’t work that way.
But Yohji said…
Shaking his head, Aya moved his focus forcibly to the pages of the book.
~*~
“C’mon, Yohji, dance with me,” Mayumi tugged on his arm. She was getting anxious, one hand toying with the silver chain that hung around her neck, draped between her large breasts which were barely contained by the blue, spaghetti strap top. They were really nice, Yohji decided, and knocking back his forth shot of Crown, he turned to follow her onto the crowded dance floor.
She smiled widely at him and draped her tanned arms over his shoulders. He pulled her close, already swaying with the music, a steady, deep rhythm without words. She giggled when his hands went from her waist to her ass, gripping it through the denim miniskirt. It was good, but there was no thrill in it.
Closing his eyes, Yohji tried to give himself over to the sensations. He could feel the soft press of her body, the clinging strands of her long, dark hair as the caught on his cheek, the light scrape of her acrylic nails as they ran down his back. It wasn’t doing anything for him. It should have, as frustrated as he had been and as long as he waited. Maybe he just needed another drink.
~*~
“Are you trying to get me drunk, Yohji?” Mayumi smiled over the rim of her pink cocktail. She had a pretty smile and pretty lips; they were full and tinted with pink gloss the same color as her drink.
“Not at all,” Yohji assured, knocking back another shot of whiskey. They were sitting at the bar, and Yohji knew the bartender. So when he raised his hand for another, it was delivered in short order. Yohji was a regular and a good tipper.
~*~
Yohji leaned heavily back against the stone wall, hands clenching at nothing as his cock disappeared between those perfect lips. He tried to stay still as her tongue worked him, but it was almost impossible. He was so hard, and he just needed it. So he closed his eyes and grabbed her hair.
There was no hesitation, just one hand on his lean thigh and another at the base of his cock where it hung out of his open jeans, keeping him from going too far. He closed his eyes again and rode the sensations, now more intense. Hot and wet and exactly what he had been thinking about. Yohji wanted to last longer; he usually did, but he was more drunk than he wanted to be and decided that it didn’t fucking matter. He was close, and when the mouth was taken away, he couldn’t even think.
“What?” he breathed.
The hands were touching him, putting his hardon back into his tight pants with difficulty. No.
“No.”
“Yes,” a voice told him, patting the tight bulge affectionately. “Let’s go back to—”
“Aya,” he complained, the name on his lips before he realized it was in his head.
“What?!”
He finally got his eyes open to see the person in front of him. Angry brown eyes met his. Brown, not purple.
“Asuka?”
His head turned with the force of the slap to his cheek.
“You bastard,” the girl hissed. “You’re so drunk you don’t even know where your dick is. I can’t believe you even got it up.”
“I—”
“Save it. I’m out of here, you useless fuck.”
She shoved him hard against the wall and walked away. Yohji watched, feeling confused and unsteady, sensations that concentrated in the throbbing between his legs.
Aya, he just needed to find Aya.
~tbc~
Review to get Yohji off this cliff. Please?
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