Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Chocolate and Kitty Chan ❯ Part 2 ( Chapter 2 )

Chocolate and Kitty-Chan
Scribblemoose

Thus spring begins: old
stupidities repeated
new errs invented

Issa

/These are thoughts being read/
these are ordinary thoughts

Part 2

Schuldig stood back and admired his handiwork with satisfaction. Another trap set and sprung, and he had Abyssinian captive before him, naked bar a pair of painted-on leather pants. He was shackled to the bars on the windows, cuffed hands raised above his head, ankles securely tied to a pipe that ran along the bottom of the wall. Schuldig stroked down the pale chest with the tip of the key from the handcuffs, and smiled crookedly.

"You really are remarkably stupid, Abyssinian. You fall for it every time."

Aya glared at him, saying nothing, thinking of some things he'd like to do to Schuldig, which were, surprisingly, inventively cruel. The man clearly had hidden depths.

"Let him go, you bastard."

Ah. Balinese. Yum.

"I might. That all depends on you, Kudoh."

Schuldig took a glance at the slender assassin out of the corner of his eye. Balinese's lean body showed no sign of the abuse it was subjected to by his reckless lifestyle, and was more than inspiring; Kudoh Yohji was dressed like a whore, and it suited him. Schuldig had wanted these strong, sexy bodies from the minute he'd seen the pair of them in the club, and here, at last, was his chance.

Balinese looked at him, eyes narrowed, as he realised what Schuldig was hinting at.

/If I let him fuck me, he'll let Aya and the girl go./

"That's right, Bali baby. You're brighter than you look."

"You're a sick, twisted bastard."

"Why, thank you. And clever. You forgot clever."

"Don't flatter yourself. The girl was right, as soon as Abyssinian gets free he'll kill you."

"Don't be so sure." Schuldig stroked the soft crimson hair back from Fujimiya's face. "He might decide he likes me better than you. He might want to stay."

Balinese just looked at him. He didn't even think anything, just glared hatred out of those vivid emerald eyes.

Yum.

"If you're going to do it, get it over with," Kudoh hissed eventually. "I don't suppose you'll be able to last long. To be honest I'm surprised a sad little jerk like you can get it up to start with."

Schuldig laughed. He'd never had any complaints about his stamina, and he'd had a hard-on pretty much constantly since he'd spotted them in the club. What a happy accident it had been: sent by Crawford to warn some insignificant contact that Kritiker were on to them, and what should he find but these two, writhing indecently on the dance floor, a fantasy come to life. And as if that wasn't enough, just after he'd followed them home and wistfully watched lights go on and off from across the street, contemplating a half dozen plans to persuade Crawford that some Weiss-tormenting was long overdue; just when he was about to go back to the club and pick himself a boy toy to work off some of the lust they'd inspired in him, who should cross his path - by climbing out of a window, for fuck's sake - but Abyssinian's precious sister. Bait on legs. A gift from heaven.

This had to be Schuldig's lucky day.

Here was Abyssinian, stripped half naked before him; Balinese, who was half-naked to start with, touchingly willing to do whatever it took to save his lover and the girl.

Schuldig decided there and then that the price for their freedom would be high. He'd waited too long for this to let the faintest opportunity go to waste.

"Get his dick out."

Balinese frowned. "What?"

"Undo these," Schuldig slapped Abyssinian's leather-clad thigh, "and get his dick out. Come on, I'm being kind here." He briefly kissed Abyssinian's grimly resisting mouth. "Give you something else to think about while I'm fucking you senseless."

He was gratified to see a flash of fear cross Kudoh's face, although he was quick to hide it.

Balinese and Abyssinian looked at each other, consulting by glance. Abyssinian nodded, and Kudoh approached him slowly.

"Sorry, baby," he whispered.

How touching.

Abyssinian caught his breath as his lover slowly undid his pants and pulled out his rapidly-hardening cock.

"Stroke it. Make it good and hard."

Abyssinian glared at him over Kudoh's shoulder; he looked more stunning than ever. His body was clearly operating on a much more basic level than his mind; while his thoughts were busy persuading him that this was simply an ordeal to be endured for the sake of his sister, his cock was already stiff and leaking over his lover's reluctant fingers.

/Fuck, Kudoh, that feels good. It shouldn't, not like this, but oh, baby, that feels good./

That's it, my kitten. I had a feeling I could get you to like it here. Not that it matters whether you like it or not; it's all the same to me.

/God, Aya, I love the feel of your cock in my mouth. Even with this bastard watching, I just want to keep on touching you forever, licking and sucking you till I taste your come in my mouth…/

"Pants off, Balinese. Let's see if that cute little ass of yours looks as good naked."

/You'd better believe it/ Fujimiya was thinking, as Balinese took his hands away from his cock with a lingering touch to the damp tip, and obediently undid his low-slung suede pants. He stepped out of them and threw them carelessly to one side, keeping his eyes on Abyssinian all the time.

"No underwear. My God, Kudoh, you really are a whore."

Schuldig helped his victim out of his scrap of a top, taking the opportunity to run his fingers down the strong muscles of his back to his tiny waist.

/Oh God, forgive me Aya baby, but the bastard feels so good… damn but I'm hard…/

"Suck him."

There was no resistance this time; Kudoh was eyeing Fujimiya's cock even as he undressed for Schuldig, and he eagerly clutched those pale hips and took the object of his desire between his lips. He was about to drop to his knees, but Schuldig caught him about the waist and held him up.

"Just bend over, Kudoh. This end is mine."

There was a faint shudder along the body stretched out before him, but no revulsion in Balinese's thoughts. Schuldig ran his hands down to grasp Kudoh's cock; he was right, he was very hard, and a decent size too.

"You slut, Kudoh. You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

He let Fujimiya's cock fall from his mouth. "Fuck off. You seriously think I'd even touch a shithead like you if you didn't force me?"

Schuldig chuckled. "You don't really think I'm such a shithead," he said. "You know you should. But you want me." He concentrated on Balinese's mind for a moment, giving his cock a few experimental strokes. "You like my butt, you like my skinny little waist, and you want to feel my hair across your back. You like my hair. You have a thing for redheads."

Balinese's dick throbbed in his hand.

/If I could get my feet free I could kick him in the head and…/

Schuldig looked up sharply. "Don't even think it, baby. Get back to sucking your boy, Bali, before he has one too many bright ideas and I have to smack him around some."

/I would really enjoy kicking you in the head./

Schuldig considered splitting that pale skin, just a little, making Fujimiya's bitch drink his lover's bright, crimson lifeblood. But only contemplated it briefly. That was Farfarello's kink; Schuldig found the mind games far more gratifying than the physical.

"That's not all you'd enjoy, though. You don't really mind that much, do you? You've learned a lot from your whore. You're just as interested in getting your cock sucked as he is in sucking it."

Abyssinian glared, but there was no denial.

Schuldig returned his attention to Balinese, who was still folded over in front of him, hanging on to Abyssinian's hips, his lips just a few inches from his lover's straining cock.

"Alright, you can suck it again. Don't let him come yet, though."

Kudoh eagerly complied. Schuldig released the cascade of his flame-bright hair from its ponytail and whipped Kudoh's back with it, shaking his head from side to side.

/Oh fuck, the hair, the hair… I'm sorry, baby, but you have to grow your hair as long as this…/

Balinese's golden skin quivered under the caress of Schuldig's silky hair, his fingers gripping Abyssinian's hips tighter, his mouth sucking his cock harder, taking it all the way down his throat. Schuldig traced his fingers softly over nerve endings brought acutely to life by his hair, pressing his groin suggestively against Kudoh's backside.

Balinese pushed back, glorious pressure against Schuldig's aching erection.

/God, he's big, can I take all that?/

Schuldig reached into the pocket of his long green jacket and retrieved a tube of lubricant. "This'll help, baby. Can't have you too sore to do it twice, can we? Hmmm.. if you're real good," he carried on talking as he spread Balinese's firm, pliant buttocks and squirted a large blob of lube at the top of his crack, "if you're real, real good I might let Abyssinian have you after me." He raised his eyes to meet the amethyst orbs that haunted his dreams. "You don't mind sloppy seconds, do you Fujimiya?"

Kudoh groaned, and Abyssinian's mind screamed outrage.

"Your whore wants it bad, Abby. Don't you give him enough at home?" Schuldig spread the lube down to Kudoh's pink pucker of an asshole and thrust a finger roughly inside.

"Just get it over with, shithead." /God that feels good. No! It doesn't! It can't! But… oh, fuckfuckfuckfuck…/

"I'm taking all the time I like. You're in no position to argue, after all," chuckled Schuldig, adding a second finger and stretching.

/At least he's taking the time to get me ready. Maybe there's a scrap of feeling in the guy after all./

"Or it could be that I don't like to get all chafed," Schuldig said.

"Get out of my head."

"Sorry. Not going to happen. It's so wonderfully dirty in there, see?" Schuldig unzipped his pants and extricated his long cock, slapping it against Balinese's backside. "You hate what I'm doing but on the other hand… there's a bit of Kudoh Yohji that really loves being all helpless, having an excuse to act like the dirty whore you are. Get your mouth round that dick and shut up. Try not to bite down if this hurts, eh."

Balinese did as he was told, swearing prodigiously, if silently, at Schuldig all the while.

He quickly slathered his erection with lube and positioned it at Kudoh's entrance, savouring the brief moment of fearful anticipation in Kudoh's mind before he slid inside. Balinese jumped, once; Schuldig reached round and stroked his cock, soothing, distracting, while he pushed all the way inside. God, that's good.

/Fuck, he is big. Feels… full. Good. Mmm… stuffed at both ends…/

/Maybe I could spurt a load in Kudoh's mouth first and then try to escape.../

They settled into a comfortably rhythm. Every time Schuldig thrust into Kudoh's tight passage he forced him to swallow Abyssinian's length down all the way; when he pulled back for the next thrust Balinese backed off too, sliding firm lips down his lover's throbbing shaft. Schuldig jerked Kudoh's own cock in counterpoint, giving both of them just enough distraction to keep them from shooting.

It was a thing halfway between violence and lust, and as their passion rose it was harder to tell the difference between the two. Schuldig pounded Kudoh's ass mercilessly, stopping every now and then to caress his back with his soft hair, or to slap his butt hard enough to leave a mark.

As he would have guessed, Kudoh came first, his cry of ecstasy muffled by the stiff cock in his mouth, splattering globs of white onto the rough wooden floor. Schuldig looked up at Abyssinian, a picture of male perfection, his eyes closed, restrained hips straining as he fucked Balinese's mouth.

/God, baby, your mouth feels so good… I want to fill that mouth with my come, pump it down your throat and know I'm inside you, in your belly, inside you, fuck, fuck, fuck/

Who'd've guessed that Abyssinian would be such a dirty thinker. Schuldig smirked.

He pulled Balinese back sharply, wrenching his mouth from Fujimiya's dick just as it erupted, lurching in the empty air and spraying Kudoh's face with its hot, sticky fluid.

Schuldig reached forwards and smeared it around Kudoh's mouth, slipping coated fingertips between friction-swollen lips to be sucked, slamming his cock into the welcoming suction of his body, until he felt his balls clench up tight. He pulled out at the last minute and jerked his huge dick frantically for the few seconds it took before the come was forced up his shaft to drench Kudoh's back and his butt and cover his asshole, again and again like it would never end…

"Doesn't it bother you that he's going to kill you?"

Fuck. Rudely brought back to his senses, Schuldig turned his head from the window to look at the girl over one shoulder. She was still sitting there sullenly, her back against the wall, and they were alone.

There was no naked Abyssinian cuffed and vulnerable, no Balinese willing to act the whore.

So much for that little fantasy.

The warehouse office was cold, and dusty; just two bare, abandoned rooms separated by a thin plasterboard partition and illuminated starkly by a single strip light. The girl was hard work, and he was beginning to wonder if she'd even be useful as bait. She'd been much easier to deal with the last time he'd kidnapped her, comatose and whimsically beautiful. This version was as mean as Abyssinian himself. She'd even managed to bite him when he'd tied her hands.

The thought of Abyssinian trying to bite him asserted itself suddenly, and not unpleasantly, in his mind.

"You're drooling."

He ignored that, surreptitiously wiping his mouth on the back of his hand as he turned back to the window.

"He's not going to kill me, sweetheart. He'll do anything for you. That includes not killing me. And a few other interesting things I have planned."

Aya-chan snorted. "In your dreams."

Schuldig smiled.

Too right.

* * * * * * * *

"What d'you mean, somewhere around there?! Can't you be a bit more specific? There must be a dozen warehouses there!"

Omi bit his lip, peering anxiously at the computer screen. "I'm sorry, Aya-kun. The tracer's good, but it can only narrow it down to a certain radius… we'll still have to go and search."

"Alright. It'll do. I'm going." Aya took one last glance at the map on the screen and started for the door.

Yohji put a firm hand on his arm. "Uniform," he said. "Just in case."

Ran looked about to protest, but he knew Yohji was right.

"And we all go," Yohji added. "We've no idea who we might come across."

"Actually I have an idea," said Ken. "It could be Schuldig."

"Schuldig?! The Schwartz bastard?" Yohji exclaimed, feeling Ran tense tighter than ever beside him. "Why? They haven't been seen since…"

"I saw him tonight," explained Ken. "I was on my way home and he was walking down the street on the opposite side of the road. I don't think he saw me. It's too much of a coincidence, surely?"

"Maybe it was mind control!" exclaimed Ran. "That's why she was suddenly interested in the sword, and got it into her head to run away, and…"

"No, Ran," Yohji gently squeezed Ran's arm. "That was just hormones. And some other stuff. It was still Aya-chan. Trust me."

"I want to go," said Omi.

"Me too," said Ken. "She's family, Aya. Let us help."

There was a silence, a moment that felt longer than it really was, while Ran decided what to do. Not so long ago he would have ended the silence with the slam of the door as he left, not caring much whether they followed or not. This time, it ended with a nod, and a grim smile.

Ten minutes later the assassins of Weiss strode out into the night.

Ronin curled up next to Aya's abandoned kitty-chan, and waited.

* * * * * * *

Kudoh Yohji flattened himself against the wall, breathing hard.

He gestured to the others to do likewise. "There's a light in the upstairs window," he whispered. "Shadow. Maybe a person."

Ken frowned. "That sounds too careless for Schwartz," he said.

"We don't know for certain it's Schwartz," hissed Yohji, flinging out an arm to stop Aya as he moved towards the door of the warehouse. "Wait, Aya. This is probably a trap."

"So?" Rage was currently winning over the other emotions surging in Ran's mind. "It's my sister."

"And we're not going to get her back by walking into a trap, baka."

"There's two windows," said Omi. "Both with bars on."

"Two downstairs entrances," added Yohji. "One to the main entrance, the other one looks like it goes straight up to the office."

"There's probably a way up from the inside, too," Omi suggested.

"Okay. You and Ken take the main entrance, Yohji and I are going straight up." Aya strained against Yohji's grasp. "What?!"

"It just has to be a trap." said Yohji. " What if there isn't a way up from inside? That would leave us two down. Let's make sure first."

"Yohji, we don't have time. If it's Schuldig he already knows we're here. If it's anyone else…"

"Skylight," said Ken. "There's a skylight on the roof."

"That sounds better," said Aya. "Alright. I'll take the skylight. Yohji, Omi, you distract him. Ken, try the back way if you can. If not, follow me through the roof. Now."

Yohji released his arm, resisting an urge to kiss him for luck, and settling for a nod and a meaningful look in the dark instead.

Aya trailed his fingers over Yohji's for the barest moment, before he stalked off into the night.

* * * * * * *

Yohji crept up the stairs, Omi at his back, listening carefully. There was a door at the top, outlined in a thin line of white light that escaped from the other side. Yohji paused, one hand on his watch, and let Omi push in front of him to open the door.

Schuldig was waiting. One hand on Aya's bound wrists, eyes trained on the opening door at the other end of the room.

Yohji saw the glint of gunmetal from the corner of his eye.

"Omi!" he warned.

But Omi had seen Aya-chan, was already breaking into a run.

Schuldig fired twice; the first shot splintered through the door just in front of Yohji's face.

"Omi, no!"

Omi fell to the floor with a surprised look on his face, not understanding why his leg suddenly didn't work any more.

Yohji stood his ground, looking Schuldig in the eye, breathing hard. Concentrating. The room was small and narrow, a wide gap in the partition leading through into what had probably been the main office when the warehouse was in use. Yohji's back was to the window; Schuldig leaning against the opposite wall, the gap to his right. There had to be some way to disarm him...

"No," said Schuldig. "If you throw a wire for the gun, it might just go off. You don't want that, do you?"

He turned the gun deliberately to point at Aya-chan's head.

She was trembling, a fierce expression on her face that reminded Yohji grimly of Ran. Her thin wrists were bound with rough rope; Yohji could see faint red marks where she'd tried to struggle free.

"Omi?"

Omi choked at the pain that was suddenly making itself felt in his brain, trying nonetheless to pull himself upright. His left thigh was a mess of blood already.

"Stay still, Omi. I'll take care of this."

Schuldig laughed. "Really? That'll be fun. Come on, then, Balinese. What's it to be? You gonna risk it and rush me? Or are you just going to keep me occupied until Abyssinian drops in from the heavens?"

As if on cue, there was a soft thud from behind the partition as Ran jumped through the skylight; Schuldig nodded his head towards the opening in the wall. "See? Far too predictable. I didn't even have to read your mind to work that one out."

There was a moment of stillness.

Aya gripped his katana and stared intently at Schuldig, trying to keep his mind empty of his intentions.

"Don't, Abyssinian. I would rather keep her alive, but she's not that important anymore."

"What do you want?" hissed Yohji.

Aya-chan suddenly made a move to pull herself away from Schuldig's grasp, taking him so much by surprise that he almost lost his grip on her arm.

"Baka!" he hissed. "Don't try that again or you'll be joining your boyfriend there in the land of pain!"

She turned to glare at him, and he glared back, but he was unnerved.

He hadn't seen it coming.

He couldn't read her mind. Or at least, not clearly. The inside of her head seemed like a jumble of strong emotions, hardly a coherent thought to be plucked anywhere.

Damn. Of all the luck.

"Fuck off," she snarled. He felt her body relax, though. Surrender.

Aya moved to the edge of the room to gain a clear view through the gap in the partition, fighting down the immense hatred he felt to try and apply some kind of logic. From what he could hear it sounded as though one of the shots he'd heard had got Omi, but Yohji sounded okay, so the second must have missed. He gripped the hilt of his katana so hard his knuckles were white, looking for the split second when Schuldig was off guard.

He heard Yohji's voice.

"What did you say you wanted?"

That's it, Yohji. Keep him talking.

"I just want a little fun." Schuldig looked over towards Aya with a grin. "Balinese and I can keep talking if you want, Abyssinian. We could talk dirty if you want. Would you like that?"

Aya growled deep in his throat, trying with all his strength to keep himself from launching a futile attack on the telepath.

"Ah. The fourth Weiss. This should be interesting. Can you still control your pack, Fujimiya? Or are they a little out of control these days?"

The door to his right opened slowly and Ken emerged, his line of sight showing him Aya-chan, Schuldig and beyond, the bleeding Omi all at once. He charged towards the opening in the partition with a roar; Aya barely made it in time to stop him. He grabbed him by the shoulder and flung him back with such force that he hit his head against the wall behind them. Ken cried out briefly in pain and surprise, and sank, unconscious, to the floor.

Aya span back to Schuldig, breathing hard.

"No more surprises, then," said Schuldig. "That's a shame. This was much easier than I thought."

He looked from Aya back to Yohji, nuzzling the barrel of the gun into the soft curls of hair at Aya-chan's temple.

"I have a little game you two might like," he said. "But first of all, let's lose the sword, Fujimiya. I trust Kudoh not to be stupid, but you're the one who went after every Takatori in Japan armed only with that stupid blade and a death-wish. Put it down."

Aya held his gaze, teeth gritted, sword held in front of him, the tip quivering just a little.

Schuldig turned slightly towards him, and nodded towards the gun in his hand. "Give me the sword, Fujimiya."

Aya's katana clattered to the floor.

"Come and get it."

"Oh, for fuck's sake…"

Schuldig headed towards the partition, dragging Aya-chan behind him. She pulled back, trying to gain purchase on the rough flooring, but could barely slow him down.

She heard Yohji's voice, flung out to help her: "Aya! Don't resist!" She knew the words. Tomoru Sensei would repeat them again and again as he struggled to teach her the basic techniques of Aikido. She had once dared to argue with him; she was strong, and surely she was there to develop that strength, to be more like Ran, to learn to fight. But every forceful move she made was met with the same admonition. "No strength! If you only use strength, what happens when you meet someone stronger? Don't resist!"

So she would not resist.

Schuldig wrenched Aya-chan forwards as he dragged her past the partition, and this time, she followed. Adding her weight to his pull, she thrust her bound arms across his body, past him and across his throat, turning, turning him, turning the gun away from her. Irimi, entering, more an exercise than a technique, but enough, just enough to get him off balance and get past him.

It was all Aya needed. He threw himself between them even as Schuldig cursed in surprise and let off a round wildly and harmlessly at the ceiling; Aya-chan called his name and tossed his katana even as Yohji's wire shot towards Schuldig's hand to whip the gun away.

Aya caught the sword deftly, and raised it to strike, but Schuldig was already on his way, leaping effortlessly to the skylight above and behind them. Gone. Ran followed, despite Aya-chan's desperate cry for him not to.

"It's okay, sweetheart. He's just making sure he's not planning on hanging around," Yohji reassured softly, swiftly releasing her from the ropes that had burned her wrists.

She looked up at him, panic in her eyes.

"Omi!" She turned to see the youngest assassin leaning in the doorway, trying to hide a grimace. He managed a grim smile as she flung her arms around him. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," lied Omi, whispering something Yohji couldn't quite catch into her ear.

She gave him a brief hug and let him go. There was a loud groan of "what the fuck…" from corner of the room as Ken regained consciousness.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" said Yohji to Aya-chan, softly.

"Yes, but Ran…"

"It's alright. He'll be back in a minute, I promise. Then we'll get Omi to the hospital."

"I'm fine, Yohji-kun," admonished Omi, his face so grey Yohji was amazed he hadn't already passed out.

"I'm not sure I am," murmured Ken. "What the fuck'd he do that for?"

"There was a gun," said Yohji, throwing him an angry look. "Did you not notice the gun?"

"Oh." Ken rubbed his temples. "Shit. Sorry. I thought if I got the element of surprise, maybe…"

Yohji rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything. He had a feeling Ran was going to say plenty to Ken for all of them.

There was a whoosh of air and a soft thud as Ran dropped down through the skylight. He was breathing hard.

Yep, thought Yohji. Still love it when he does that.

"No sign," he panted. "He's gone."

He caught his breath, and locked his gaze with Aya-chan's.

"Ran, I…"

Omi fell to the floor with a thud.

* * * * * * *

The sun was rising by the time they got back from the hospital. Aya-chan sat next to Yohji in the back seat of Ran's Porsche, staring out of the window. She'd hardly said a word since they left the warehouse.

"I'm really sorry," Ken was saying. "I didn't see the gun, I…"

"Shut up, Hidaka," growled Ran. "You're way out of control. If you don't start paying attention…"

"Tomorrow," said Yohji. "Let's not do this now."

Ran's eyes met his in the rear view mirror, and Yohji gave the faintest of nods in Aya-chan's direction.

Ran grunted.

"At least Omi's alright," said Ken. "Although he's not going to like being stuck in hospital for a week."

"Hey, you know what that means?" Yohji leaned back with a grin, folding his hands behind his head. "No-one to nag us to do chores."

Aya-chan threw a sidelong glance in his direction, and the faintest of smiles.

"Don't you believe it, Kudoh."

They arrived back at the Koneko in the grey half-light. Yawning, Ken said goodnight and staggered up the stairs, leaving the three of them standing in the kitchen. Ran unbuttoned his coat, and busied himself with washing up the glass of water he'd poured earlier.

Yohji took a beer from the fridge, watching Aya-chan out of the corner of his eye.

"I'm proud of you, princess," he said, eventually.

There was a glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes, along with regret. "I was stupid to get into the situation in the first place," she said. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," said Yohji, evenly. "You're alright. That's all that matters. Right, Ran?"

"Of course," said Ran, a little gruffly.

"Well, um… I'll go check on Ronin," said Yohji, heading for the stairs down to the mission room. "Tell him we're back safe, and all." He left the two of them alone, hoping that somehow they might sort something out before they both exploded with repressed feelings.

When he returned a few minutes later, Ronin clasped in one hand and kitty-chan in the other, they were still standing there, Ran drying the glass painfully slowly while Aya traced patterns in the spilt salt on the kitchen table.

"Here," said Yohji, popping Ronin on her shoulder. He butted her neck forcefully with his little blunt nose, purring loudly. "And you dropped this." He offered her the little stuffed animal.

She reached out her hand to take it from him, holding it gently with slightly shaking fingers. She looked down into its blue plastic eyes and burst into tears; huge, gut-wrenching sobs that shook her whole body, alarming Ronin so much that he leapt from her shoulder to the table and sat down suddenly, confused.

Ran dropped the glass, oblivious as it smashed on the floor, and pulled her into his arms, holding her tight.

"Shhh…"

"Ran, I got Omi shot and I'm so stupid and you could all have been killed or tortured and I'm an idiot and I'm so sorry…"

"Shhh… it's alright, chibi. It's alright."

"My brain wouldn't work, I couldn't think straight and I was so mad at you and you were only trying to keep me safe, and… how could I do that to you, and I'm so, so sorry…"

"Shhhh… You were brave, Aya. Very brave. I'm proud of you, too, you know."

Yohji scratched Ronin soothingly behind the ears, and watched as Ran comforted his sister, a lump in his throat the size of a tennis ball.

"Y-Yohji…" she stammered after a while, waggling one hand behind her "c'mere."

"On my way, sweetheart." He took her hand and let her pull him close, wrapping his long arms easily around both of them, kissing the top of her head. "You're safe now."

"Yohji?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"My stomach hurts."

"I know, baby. How about you go up to bed? Ran'll make you a hot water bottle and bring you chocolate."

"You," she sniffed. "Ran bring hot water bottle, you bring chocolate. And Ronin."

"Whatever you say, sweetheart," Yohji smiled.

She slowly pulled her way out of their arms, still clasping kitty-chan to her heart. "Thank you." She smiled weakly, and set off up the stairs.

Ran filled the kettle as Yohji swept up the broken glass.

"Are you okay?" Yohji asked quietly, reaching under the table with the broom to get the last few shards.

"I've got some thinking to do," said Ran. "But yes. I'm just glad we got her back."

"We can talk to her about it in a few days," suggested Yohji. "When she's… back to normal."

Ran sighed. "I'll tell you one thing, Yohji. I'm glad I'm not a woman."

Yohji nodded, grimly. "Too right," he said. "Too fucking right."

* * * * * * *

Half an hour later Ran and Yohji tiptoed from Aya's room, leaving her fast asleep in bed with Ronin cuddled into her neck and kitty-chan hooked under one arm.

"She looks so young, sometimes," Ran murmured, closing the door of their room behind him and watching as Yohji started to strip out of his clothes.

"She is young, really. She missed a lot, you know. Don't let all the bravery fool you. She's soft as a kitten inside." His smiled lopsidedly. "Trust me. I know my Fujimiyas. You're all alike."

Ran gave him a glare, albeit a brief one, by his standards.

"I can't get over how she is with that stupid kitty-chan," he said. "She never had stuffed toys, even when she was little." He shook his head. "Sometimes I don't think I'll ever understand her."

"Hmm," said Yohji, noncommittally. "Looks like the Aikido training paid off, though."

If Ran noticed the change of subject, he didn't remark on it. He was lost in thought for a moment, stripping his feet of boots and socks, undoing his belt.

"Do you think I should let her try the sword?" he asked, eventually.

Yohji shucked his pants off his long legs, thinking back to that afternoon, the vision of Aya wrapping his wire around her fingers. "It could be worse," he said. "At least with the sword, you can teach her. It doesn't have to be about killing, Ran. She was right about that."

Ran pulled his shirt over his head, shaking his hair loose. "I don't know," he said. "I'll have to think about it."

"Not now," said Yohji, turning back the covers and sliding into bed. "Aw, fuck, it's cold in here. Hurry up. I'm freezing."

Ran ignored him, taking the time to put his clothes away as usual, kicking Yohji's abandoned garments into a pile by the dresser. Only when the room was tidied to his satisfaction did he slip gracefully into bed, allowing a conspicuously shivering Yohji to wrap his arms and one leg around him and snuggle into his neck.

"Better," mumbled Yohji.

Ran raised a hand to stroke Yohji's hair, noticing that in fact it was he rather than Yohji who was cold, and savouring the feeling of warmth seeping from Yohji's body to his.

"Yohji…"

"Well, it's late and all, but I'm up for it if you are."

"No, you slut," he used the term almost affectionately, "I was going to say… what do you think Schuldig wanted? Do you think he's been planning this, or do Schwartz… did he…"

"Tomorrow," said Yohji firmly. "Think about it tomorrow."

"Hn."

There was a short pause.

"Ran…"

"Mmm…"

"You know you've got your hand on my butt."

"Mm."

"Well, it's nice and all, but…"

Ran pressed his body even closer to Yohji's, his stiff cock pushing into the soft flesh of Yohji's belly.

"Do you want to distract me, or not?"

Yohji made a little purring noise in his throat. "Oh yes," he said, and sought out Ran's mouth with his own. They kissed softly, each ruffling the other's hair, tongues fencing lightly. Ran pulled the covers over their bodies, protecting them from the chill morning air, and let his hand rove contentedly over Yohji's skin. Yohji felt like the best thing that had happened to him all day, warm and strong and comparatively straightforward. His emotions were completely wrung out; he'd gone from happy to horny to furious to scared to angry to desperate, and all the way round a few more times before he'd taken refuge in his bed… technically Yohji's bed, but these days it seemed to belong pretty much to both of them.

That was a good feeling. He liked sharing with Yohji. It felt right.

It made Aya-chan happy too, and he so wanted her to be happy. He wanted to understand and…

His mind was flitting like a butterfly, and he couldn't make it stop.

"Yohji…" he murmured into the soft, dark blonde hair under his lips. "Oh, Yohji…"

"I know, love. I know." Yohji brushed Ran's bangs back form his face, rubbing his cheek with one thumb as he looked into his eyes. "Just kiss me, Ran. Let it go."

Ran eagerly brushed Yohji's mouth with his, felt his cock twitch between them, shifted his hips so their erections rubbed together. Ran felt the tingle of pleasure run straight up his spine, warm and comforting and exciting all at once. Their kisses were still soft and lingering, bringing about a tingle all of their own, the gentle wash of tongue and lips lending a sensuous rhythm to their grinding hips.

Yohji reached down and encircled both their shafts with one hand as best he could, moving his grip in a light twisting motion so it felt as if he was covering more flesh than his one hand really could. Ran moaned into Yohji's kiss as he palmed the top of their cocks, spreading precome and rubbing the juncture of their velvety foreskins together. Yohji was panting for breath now, but still he was gentle, running his tongue along the channel between Ran's lower lip and his teeth, stroking the underneath of Ran's tongue with his own, sucking ever so gently on the tip.

"Ran…"

"Mmmm…"

"I want you inside me, Ran. Can you do that for me?"

"Anytime, Kudoh," he said, the soft tone of his voice adding feeling to his flippant words. "Please," he added. He wanted to lose himself in Yohji, to be part of him, and most of all to hide inside him, away from the thoughts that kept going round and round in his head like an interminable fairground ride.

He rolled Yohji slowly onto his back, and reached under the pillow for the lubricant. "Now?" he checked.

Yohji nodded. "Sooner than that would be good," he said, reaching up to tangle his fingers in Ran's hair.

Ran couldn't remember the last time they'd been this tender with each other. Affectionate, yes, but to treat each other as if they were so fragile, so breakable. Perhaps recognising how vulnerable they were, when Aya-chan had so nearly been taken from them…

Can't stop thinking…

He whimpered as he spread lube carefully around Yohji's entrance, pressing gently at the puckered lips of his anus until they fluttered under his touch, opening for him and granting access to Yohji's body. He slid first one, then two fingers inside, exploring, stroking, stretching. He watched Yohji's face, his eyes sliding shut, lips parting slightly to let a soft moan escape with his breath. He slicked his own cock quickly, suddenly needing to be inside Yohji now, unable to wait any longer, knowing that once he was there the thinking would stop. He positioned himself carefully, steadying his cock with a firm grip around its root, and slid slowly inside.

Yohji moaned again, wrapping his legs around Ran's waist to help pull him deeper and deeper inside him. Ran lowered his head to kiss Yohji's mouth, to smell his hair, shampoo and cigarettes, to feel the warm puffs of his lover's shortening breath on his face.

"Okay?" He asked, when he'd seated himself as far into Yohji's body as he could go, balls nestling happily against the firm flesh of his buttocks.

"Oh, God, yes," husked Yohji. "You feel so good and big and thick and hard and…I'm full and warm and…" Ran silenced him with another kiss, and started to move.

They rocked slowly for a long while, looking into each others' eyes, touching hair and faces and mouths, backing off as the passion mounted, and Ran finally let his thoughts go. He let himself get lost in the feeling of Yohji's body sucking and holding and caressing, until eventually he forgot to stop one time as he felt his balls tighten, aching and full; he reached between them to give Yohji a hand to thrust into and concentrated for as long as he could on bringing Yohji pleasure. It took some effort; Yohji was tired and the intensity was too great at first, but Ran simply changed his stroke, moving his hand a little faster, stroking Yohji's prostate with the head of his cock, coating his hand with lube so he could move it faster, more smoothly over Yohji's iron-hard sex.

When he finally came, Yohji came hard, crying out Ran's name, arching his back and jerking his hips, pumping hot semen over his chest and belly, slick and wet. Ran scooped up as much as he could with his hand and brought it to his lips to taste. It was the look in Yohji's eyes as he did this that finally made him come himself, the idea that Yohji was watching with such devoted, helpless adoration as Ran lapped up his ejaculate and steadily fucked his ass. He pushed home one last time, his whole body trembling as he spurted endlessly into Yohji's tight body, so deep and hot and… peaceful…

He fought to regain his breath, gasping, mind lost in the silky caress of Yohji's fingertips up and down his spine, the same rhythm as their lovemaking. Back and forth, back and forth, back and…

At some point his soft cock slipped out of Yohji's body, and Ran curled up in the crook of Yohji's protective arm, eyes closed all the while. By the time Yohji had pulled the covers back over them both, he was fast asleep.

* * * * * * *

Yohji paused for a moment, watching Omi through the window in the door. He was off the drip, at least, and his skin was a much healthier colour. He was asleep, untidy hair falling away from his face, making him look younger than ever.

Yohji sighed deeply, and pushed the door open.

He crossed the room and put the little vase of freesias carefully on the little cupboard next to the bed. Corny, maybe, but Aya-chan had insisted. He fingered the envelope in his pocket, wondering how he could possibly have resisted opening it. Maybe it wasn't too late. Maybe he should take a peek, in Aya-chan's best interests…

"Yohji-kun?"

He started guiltily, masking the expression swiftly with a warm smile.

"Omi. How you doing?"

"Better," said Omi, cornflower eyes huge and innocent as ever. "They say another few days, in case it got infected."

"Well, that's probably for the best. Anything you need, chibi?"

Omi shook his head, pulling himself to sitting with a grimace as the tortured muscle in his leg protested. "No, thanks. Manx was here earlier, she sorted out the bills and paperwork and stuff. You really should've called her before you brought me here, you know. Kritiker hate to do the mopping up with the police after the event."

Yohji snorted. "Sorry, Omi, but you weren't in any state to hang around while we went through any shit with Persia."

"Hm," Omi conceded. "I was a bit reckless, I guess, huh Yohij-kun?"

"Yes," said Yohji sternly. "And I need to talk to you about that…"

"Oh, thanks for the flowers," said Omi, reaching out a hand to touch the frail petals. "It's crazy but I hate not having them around. Feels odd, somehow."

"They were Aya-chan's idea," Yohji admitted. "She would have come herself, but… you know how she is about hospitals. And Ran had to give Ken a lecture."

"Aa," said Omi. "He was even more stupid than I was."

"You weren't stupid, Omi," said Yohji, capturing his friend's ocean-deep gaze with his own, steeling himself against all that apparent innocence and vulnerability. "You acted like any guy would if he saw his girlfriend with a gun to her head."

I would have done the same. If I could have moved, I would have taken the shot for Asuka. I'd take it for Ran.

"Girlfriend, Yohji-kun?"

Yohji took a deep breath, and forced himself to continue to look Omi in the eye.

"I'm not stupid, Omi." He thought for a beat. "Not when it comes to things like this, anyway."

"Things…"

"If you're going to say 'things like what', forget it. Let's move on from that little game, eh?"

Omi closed his mouth, and the innocence faded from his eyes just a little.

"How long?" asked Yohji.

Omi hesitated, fiddling with the hem of the starched hospital sheet. "Five weeks and three days," he confessed, eventually.

"Five weeks and three days. Hm. And you were going to tell me and Aya when, exactly, Omi?"

Omi looked up at him a little sheepishly. He even looked a bit scared, Yohji noted with satisfaction.

"We were just waiting… for the right moment, Yohji-kun."

"And what moment might that have been? Before or after the wedding?"

"Yohji-kun! We've only been dating for five weeks and…"

"…Three days, yes, I heard you."

Yohji gave the innocent-looking young man a long look. He'd known Omi for a long time, seen him grow from a cute teenager into… a technically older cute teenager. He knew Omi was loyal, cheerful, brave and kind. He was probably good-looking, if you liked the shota-genki look. He reluctantly had to admit he could see why Aya-chan might have fallen for him.

Even if he was a lot less straightforward and honest than he looked. And a Takatori. However much Ran said Omi was Omi and nothing to do with his biological family, Yohji knew his nightmares told him different.

Why, of all people, a Takatori, Aya-chan? Are you trying to give Ran a hard time?

"Yohji-kun?" Omi looked at him with eyes like saucers, as if awaiting punishment.

"I take it it's serious?"

"Um."

"You don't give stuffed toys to women if you're not serious. Come on, Omi, I'm the expert here, remember."

Omi's eyes grew a little misty. "I love her, Yohji-kun. With all my heart."

Oh God. Teenage passion. Poetry and hormones and making out in cars. Those were the days…

"I never meant for her to know I liked her, but it hurt so much I thought I'd die…

… well, maybe not.

"So you asked her out?"

"Um…" Omi toyed with the plastic identity strap around his wrist. "Not exactly."

Yohji raised one eyebrow in query.

"I sent her an e-mail."

That one was new even to Yohji. "An e-mail?! For goodness sake, Omi, I know you're a geek, but…"

"I didn't mean to," said Omi, weakly. "I was just… pretending. I thought maybe it would get it out of my system. I shouldn't have put her address in," he mused. "I was about to delete it but Ken came in the room and I hit send by mistake…"

Yohji fought hard not to laugh.

"I tried to tell her it was a joke, but… she just… kissed me, Yohji-kun."

Not laughing suddenly got a lot easier. "Kissed you?"

Omi nodded, looking as if he were ready to flinch from a blow.

Yohji forced himself to think carefully. He knew Aya was nineteen years old. Even if you took off the two years she'd slept, she was still seventeen years old. She wasn't a little girl; she was a young woman. By the time Yohji was her age he'd been with… well, more than one girl. And a man. But however hard he told himself that, he couldn't somehow contemplate Aya, Ran's sister Aya, having sex with anyone.

Least of all Omi. In fact, the notion of Aya having sex seemed somehow more credible than Omi ever…

Yohji wondered briefly if he was getting old.

"Yohji-kun," Omi ventured, hesitantly, "we haven't done anything… wrong."

Try that one on Ran, thought Yohji. "I should fucking hope not," he said, sternly.

Omi drew back a little, but his sky-blue eyes grew unusually fierce. "I love her, Yohji-kun," he said, as if it made everything alright.

Yohji fixed his eyes on the freesias for a moment.

Maybe it does, at that.

"You know Ran's not going to like it," he said.

"Yes," said Omi, sadly. "Aya-chan doesn't like keeping secrets," he added. "In fact we were wondering…"

Yohji's eyes darted swiftly back to Omi's. "Oh no you don't," he hissed.

"Yohji-kun?"

"You were going to ask me to tell Ran for you."

"But it would be so much better coming from you," pleaded Omi. "He listens to you, and…"

"I don't know where you got that idea," said Yohji. "And no. I'm not even sure I approve myself, I'm certainly not going to even try and tell Ran what to think."

"Aya-chan's scared he'll lose his temper and…"

Chop you into Omi-granules. Yes. That sounds likely.

Yohji scrubbed his eyes with his palms and ran his fingers through his hair. "I came her to tell you to keep your mucky hands off her," he said, accusingly. "I probably still should."

Omi just looked at him.

"You really think you love her, eh chibi?"

Omi nodded. Yohji could practically see tears welling in those huge eyes.

Damn.

Yohji dipped his fingers into his pocket, stroking the rough velum of the envelope that lay there. "I don't know if I can tell Ran," he said. "I'll get back to you on that one. But I'll tell you one thing."

He put one hand on Omi's injured leg, just below the knee, firmly enough that he could feel the bulge of the thick bandages through the covers.

Omi gave him his rapt attention.

"If you ever, ever hurt her, you'd better make sure Ran gets to you first. Do you understand?" There was an edge of steel to his voice, a flash of darkness in his eyes, a glimpse of the killer Omi knew Yohji could be.

Omi swallowed hard, and nodded. "Yes, Yohji-kun," he whispered.

Yohji blinked, and the killer was gone.

He got to his feet with a melodramatic sigh. "And no further than first base until you're both twenty five," he said.

"Well, um, actually, Yohji-kun…"

Yohji slapped a hand over Omi's mouth. "Not wanting to know, Omi. Just be careful, alright?"

Omi nodded mutely.

"Good. I'm glad we understand each other. She asked me to give you this," he pulled the envelope out of his pocket and handed it to him. "And I haven't looked," he said, proudly.

Omi gave him a weak smile. "Thank you, Yohji-kun."

"You're welcome. Now, I have to go." He winked conspiratorially at Omi, who was looking suddenly weary and not a little worried. "Get well soon, chibi."

Omi watched Yohji leave, clutching Aya-chan's letter to his heart.

All things considered, he thought, as he breathed the fresh scent of Aya-chan's perfume drifting up from the envelope in his hand, that could have gone worse.

Although on the whole, it had felt less dangerous getting shot.

* * * * * * *

Ran looked suspiciously at the package that lay on the bed between them.

"A present?"

"Yes," said Yohji. "Strange, I know, but there you have it."

"It's not my birthday."

"No, I know. It was just and idea I had."

"An idea?" Ran looked at him as if this was an even more disconcerting notion than the present.

Yohji sighed. "Just open it, Ran."

Ran tackled the ribbon around the box as if he were diffusing a bomb.

"It's a pink box," he noted.

Yohji shrugged. "Just came like that," he said.

There was a long moment as Ran took the lid off the box, and cautiously peeked inside.

Yohji held his breath, and watched Ran's face carefully.

His eyes went wide for a moment, and then, very slowly, a grin spread across his face.

Not a Ran-patented mini-smile. A grin. A dirty, horny grin.

"Handcuffs, Yohji?" he asked. Grinning.

Yohji felt himself smile stupidly back at him.

"Pink, furry handcuffs?" Ran took them out of the box.

"Well, you don't want to hurt me," he said. "Well, not much," he added.

Ran held up the cuffs, dangling them from one finger, swinging hypnotically from side to side. "You did say Ken's got late night soccer practice?" he said.

Yohji nodded, sidling a little closer.

"And Omi and Aya-chan are studying at the library together?"

He nodded again, carefully keeping his face neutral. I hope. Oh, God, I hope that's all they're doing.

"So we have a little time…"

Yohji swept the empty box off the bed, and offered Ran his wrists.

"I'm all yours," he suggested.

Ran pounced.

Grinning.

* * * * * * *

Ronin crawled out from under the bed, disturbed by creaking bedsprings and a certain amount of unmanly squealing. He yawned and stretched, pulling his furry little body into a quivering arch. He padded about drunkenly for a moment, still bleary with slumber, before he came across the little pink box.

After some sniffing and careful consideration, he stepped carefully inside. He rustled the tissue paper about until it formed a satisfactory nest and sat down with a little burrup noise.

Ignoring the cavorting assassins on the bed, Ronin went back to sleep.

This with many thanks to Arnheim for the fight sequence - (see! You can do it! Now you have to write us some X-men fics, please!) and to Gwen for beta-ing. And to Bonnington, for being cuter than Omi and Ronin put together ;)