Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Coming Home ❯ 38 ( Chapter 38 )

38

Fragile, like a baby in your arms - be gentle with me,

I'd never willingly do you harm

Déjà vu all over again, I thought as I awoke on Yohji's couch, the smell of fried noodles wafting through the apartment. Across the room, the orchid nodded in the soft breeze from the open window. Late afternoon sunlight painted long shadows on the floor.

"Sleep all right?"

I looked up. Yohji stood in the kitchen, cooking something that was starting to smell fantastic. "Really good," I told him. "You?" I gave a slow stretch and noted with some surprise that my shoulder actually felt a little better; I flexed it a bit and it worked almost smoothly.

"Not bad. I always sleep better when the sun's up," Yohji said as he lifted a pan and flipped its contents with a casual one-handed toss. The mass of noodles sizzled as the untoasted side hit the pan with a smack. "How's the shoulder?"

I smiled a little. Damn, if that man didn't notice everything! "Not bad, amazingly enough. Maybe this couch has some therapeutic properties, you think?"

Yohji chuckled. "If that's the case, how much do you think I can rent it out for?"

I laughed and headed for the bathroom. Yohji must have showered while I was still asleep: the room was a little foggy and smelled of fresh soap. I shut the door and found Far's vest hanging stiffly on a hook behind it, the fabric dry and wrinkly. At least it was ready to go back. I frowned, one hand gripping the hem of the vest. That's right, tomorrow morning would mark two days. "Damn it," I growled to no one in particular.

I finished my business and surveyed my reflection. The sleep had done a lot of good. My eyes reminded me of myself again, though there was still something different about them. I supposed there always would be, now: whether contact with the Elders or nearly dying had brought the change, it was a change I couldn't deny. With a sigh I turned my attention to my nut-colored hair. Running my fingers through it, I found that the paler roots were already becoming visible, though not badly so. Grumbling to myself, I returned to the living room.

Yohji had just brought two bowls out and set them on the table. He looked at me and said, "Thought you might be hungry." Then he returned to the kitchen for the tea tray.

My fingers toyed with my hair, twining it around while I looked at the long brown strands with distaste. I hadn't expected it to start growing out so soon. This whole situation was becoming more annoying by the moment - I'd have to re-color it nearly every week, at this rate! Two at the outside.

"You know, they say hair grows faster on perverts," Yohji commented. "Though, I've never seen any real evidence of that."

"Ha, ha. Very funny." I picked up my bowl and started eating. After a couple of bites, I looked up and asked, "Do I want to know what's in this?"

"Pork and tofu, why?"

"Never mind." I returned my attention to my dinner. Pigs and soybeans were fine by me, but one couldn't be too careful.

"So I take it sashimi is probably not your favorite food here."

"Please, I'm trying to eat!"

Yohji laughed and shook his head. "Man, I just can't figure you out. You act all tough and superior when we're fighting, but you're just a regular guy, really. And one who gets squeamish over raw fish."

"Yohji! Not while I'm eating!" I growled, trying not to think about it.

"Me, I'll try anything." At my skeptical glance, Yohji amended this to, "Well, almost anything. Monkey --"

"One more word and I'll puke," I warned him.

"Okay, okay."

Maybe praise would shut him up. "This is really good, by the way."

"Thanks. The other guys didn't really cook, so if I wanted anything other than take-out, I was pretty much on my own." Yohji finished off his noodles, then lit a cigarette and leaned back on the couch.

A little self-conscious, I took our empty bowls to the kitchen and stacked them in the sink. I really wasn't used to the guest treatment, and he'd already done so much for me I had the momentary urge to wash his dishes in repayment. Then I came to my senses and returned to the living room to bum a cigarette.

Yohji lit me one and I took it, noticing that it didn't seem as brackish as usual. Guess I was getting used to the damn things, I thought. So much for getting disgusted enough to quit altogether. I snorted a laugh and promptly started coughing.

"You okay there?"

"Yeah, just thought of something funny," I told him. "You know I hate this brand, but it's better than nothing. Brad wants me to quit. I was kind of hoping that it'd be easier to do if I didn't like the taste, but no dice. I'm hooked."

Yohji chuckled. "Man, that really bites. Why does he want you to quit? Second-hand smoke issues? Or doesn't he like to kiss buttmouth?"

"Buttmouth? Oh, you're a regular comedian." This tangent wasn't pleasing me anymore. By this time the following day, I'd be back in that apartment with my team, and I had the feeling I wouldn't be pleased by anything for a while.

"Hey, chill, Schuldig," Yohji said, raising his hands a little. "I wasn't trying to piss you off."

"Sorry. I'm not pissed, not really. Just disappointed," I sighed. "It's so easy to just be with you, and I'm down to counting the hours before I have to go again." I regarded him with a rakish smirk and asked, "You sure you don't want to run away with me, to Amsterdam or something? Be a couple of hippies or whatever?"

Yohji grinned back and said, "You think I want Crawford hunting me down and shooting me where it hurts? Hell, no! It's a nice idea, though. I've never been to Amsterdam."

"Me neither. But I hear it's a friendly place."

Sunset colored the window red-gold. The breeze had died down, leaving behind an expectant sort of quiet. We sat together in silence, smoking and daydreaming. As day faded into twilight, Yohji got up and shut the window, then set the stereo to play, the volume soothingly low.

"Can I ask you something without you getting a headache over it?" Yohji asked, not looking at me.

"Depends," I told him. "Try me."

"Why Schuldig?"

"Beg pardon?"

"Did you choose that name for yourself," Yohji asked as he returned to the couch, "or did someone give it to you?"

I fidgeted, stubbed out my cigarette with a savage twist. "No, I chose it."

"What are you guilty of?"

I'd thought he didn't know that much of the language, but he could have looked it up anytime. I bit my lip, then whispered, "Everything."

A strong hand cupped my chin, tilted my head back. Yohji looked into my eyes for a long moment, then he shook his head slowly, his lips curving in a graceful smile. "No, you're not."

I stared as Yohji leaned in close to softly brush his lips against mine, his breath hot upon my mouth. He repeated this light caress, his eyes barely open. His eyelashes tickled my skin.

When his tongue darted against my lips, I moaned and opened my mouth to him. My hands clutched at his hair as the kiss deepened. Yohji kissed with gentle sureness, so different from Crawford's near frantic domination. I melted into his embrace, craving more of this rare sensual delight. Yohji even smells good, I thought distantly as my hands sought to memorize every angle of his shoulders.

He held me close, his fingertips running up and down my back and making me shiver. His tongue teased mine into exploring his mouth, then he closed his lips around my tongue and sucked. I whimpered deep in my throat, my body craving his touch everywhere, anywhere. God, he reminded me of Karl! So tender, so sensual, and not demanding anything in return.

I realized I'd tapped into his thoughts, and tried to pull my mind back before he noticed. Yohji broke from the kiss to smile at me and wink, then he slid to the floor, his hands at my hips. Had I given him the suggestion for this? No, I was pretty sure I hadn't forced him, but it seemed pretty likely that I'd let slip my desire. That wink was fairly telling.

"Stop worrying about it," Yohji said. "Or do you want me to stop?" He rested the palm of one hand against my erection and pressed lightly.

I groaned. Reflexively my hands clutched at his hair.

Yohji chuckled and continued massaging me through my jeans.

I thought he was waiting for an answer, but I couldn't make any coherent sounds. Barely in control of my own body, I thrust up against his hand.

Yohji rose for a moment to kiss me deeply once more, his hair falling across my face. Then he knelt between my feet and unfastened my pants. He took his time, reaching in and rubbing me through the underwear. He lowered his mouth to my cloth-covered cock and breathed hot air through the fabric, then gripped me with his lips and nibbled his way to the head.

I could feel the cotton underwear grow sticky where it touched the tip of my cock. Aside from that, and Yohji's mouth, the world didn't seem to exist anymore.

With slow, gentle movements Yohji freed me from my underwear. He stroked and caressed and kissed along the shaft until he reached the head, then he proceeded to drive me insane. He suckled at the tip of my cock and tugged the foreskin with his lips, pulling it forward, then pushing it back, taking the head fully into his mouth. I found my hands tangling in his hair, and he murmured an encouraging sound that made his mouth vibrate. I groaned and thrust upward, unable to hold still. Yohji explored me with lips and tongue and fingers, driving me wild with the sensations. He closed his mouth around the head and softly sucked, his tongue caressing the slit with little flickering movements. At the same time, his fingers lightly traced the veins down the sides of my shaft, and back up. He tickled up and down my length and sucked delicately at the tip until I was gasping and my balls started to tighten.

Yohji paused then, raising his head to look at me, his hand pressing gently at the base of my cock, slowing everything. I whimpered, wanting this, needing him to finish. It had been too long, damn it, and he'd stopped when I was so close! My hands stroked his hair, imploring him without words; I looked at him through half-closed eyes, unable to speak, only hoping he wouldn't leave me like this. He smiled, then lowered his mouth to my aching member. I groaned loudly and thrust, helpless against my own consuming need. His tongue met my thrust with a hot, wet caress, stroking, tickling, pulling me deep into his throat. I clutched at his head and cried out as pleasure jolted through me, inevitable and unstoppable. Time seemed to hang suspended as the sensations rippled through me. Tongue and lips and throat and hand drew shiver after shiver from my willing body, prolonging my climax beyond anything I thought possible for a man.

When my muscles started to relax and my balls grew slack, Yohji still didn't allow the pleasure to stop. One hand gently squeezed around the base of my cock as his lips sucked at the underside of the head, coaxing a few more pearly droplets out to be lapped up catlike from the tip. Each touch of his tongue brought another gasp from my lips. My fingers played through his hair in silent gratitude.

Yohji moved up to sprawl across me, his mouth seeking mine. I tasted myself on his tongue. We kissed until I had to pull away to breathe. His eyes shone hot in the dim light, and I didn't need to use telepathy to know what he was thinking. This time, I kissed him. Fresh desire rose up in me, desire I hadn't dared explore since Karl, and one disastrous time with Far.

"Stop," I gasped, pushing at him. "Stop it!"

Yohji allowed me to squirm out from under him. He watched as I fled halfway across the room only to stand as if in a spotlight, with nowhere to hide. "What's wrong?" he asked, voice soft.

"I can't," I whispered. "I'm sorry."

"Is it Crawford?"

"No, Yohji. It's me." I paced frantically, pausing only to re-zip my jeans. "I don't belong here."

"I didn't know you were Taoist. Does anyone truly belong anywhere, Schuldig? Where do you want to be?"

I leaned back against the wall by the stereo, panic threatening to pull me under. I closed my eyes. There was no way I could explain it to him, and if I allowed this to continue… "I want," I whispered the way a child might breathe a secret wish, "to be home."

A faint change in the air told me he'd moved, and I opened my eyes. Yohji stood before me; his right hand caught hold of my left and pinned it lightly to the wall above my head. As my lips parted to speak he silenced my protest with his mouth, and my will broke. I let the wall hold me up as I melted under the passion in that kiss. My mind whirled, unable to reach out, unable to anchor, momentarily unable to hurt him.

Yohji pressed up against me, his left hand slipping behind to cup the small of my back and pull me toward him. I could feel the heat of his body against my chest. I whimpered against his mouth as my right hand floated up to his shoulder. My knees felt weak.

He released my left hand to reach up under my shirt, fingertips finding and squeezing my nipple. I groaned and sagged against him, my knees now utterly useless. He was smiling, I could taste it in his kiss. Yohji rolled my nipple between his fingertips, pinching just enough to completely reignite my lust. I clung to him, my pulse once more pounding through my loins and bringing a fresh stiffness with it.

Without a word, he took hold of my hand again and tugged me away from the wall. His eyes gleamed as he led me into his bedroom.

I followed, stumbling a little. He stopped beside the bed and began undoing my shirt, slipping each button out through its loop with slow precision. Hot kisses thrilled the sensitive skin at the base of my throat and along my collarbone. Strong, warm hands slid inside my opened shirt, caressing my sides as they pushed it back and down my arms to drop in a puddle at my feet.

Yohji's lips sought out my nipple, pulling at it as one hand slowly unzipped my pants. When his fingertips brushed across my stiffening cock, he bit lightly, startling me and exciting me even further. I caught a double handful of his hair and held him against my breast. Yohji obliged me, biting the tender nub a little harder as his hands cupped my ass and squeezed. Then he ran his hands down my legs, pulling the jeans down from the inside and helping me step free of them. Never releasing my nipple, Yohji stripped off his own shirt, the movements making his teeth tug at my flesh with random pressure.

Once I was naked and he, shirtless, Yohji straightened and looked into my eyes. God, he's tall, I thought, my mind numb as he lowered his mouth to mine. He held me to him, one hand behind my head and one at the small of my back. My eyes fluttered shut as our tongues touched, his lips hot and soft against my own.

Slowly, gracefully, Yohji melted back away from me and slipped out of his pants. Then he reached for me, his fingers catching mine and pulling me after him as he knelt on the bed. He never broke eye contact as we moved, calling me to him with the force of his desire until I knelt before him on the mattress. Our heights more even now, he ran his hands up my arms, tickling the vulnerable flesh in the crook of my elbow and under my arms, a sensual thrill I had never explored before. He touched me with light feathery caresses, exploring my arms and chest and belly, smiling as my muscles flinched from the soft tickles.

I found myself mirroring his actions, starting at his fingers and caressing up the strong hands to his powerful forearms. My fingertips thrilled at the feel of his skin, the way one might caress fur or velvet for the sheer joy of it. Dimly I noticed we were breathing in unison. I let my eyelids drift shut and wallowed in the lushness of the moment, his hands upon me, mine upon him. His body was lean and hard muscled, with fine silken skin that smelled like honey. I found myself relaxing, breathing deeper as I caressed Yohji's strong chest, his finely chiseled belly, and up again to his shoulders. I decided I really liked his shoulders, and lingered there a while.

Under my hands, I felt him shift and I heard the sound of linen sliding against skin. Then he moved backwards and down, bringing me with him. I opened my eyes and found Yohji reclining against his pillows as I knelt over him in a very dominant position. That sensual mouth of his curved in a smile, a smile that echoed in his warm jade eyes.

I swallowed and sat back. "Yohji, I can't," I whispered, shaking my head. "You don't understand."

Yohji tilted his head a little and said, "Hey, it's all right. You don't have to do anything you don't want to, Schuldig." He sat up and cupped my face in his hands, then kissed me tenderly.

Tears of shame slid from the corners of my eyes and my breath hitched in my throat. "I want to, that's the problem," I hissed. As though emphasizing my words, my cock throbbed. "I'm just not safe." I realized what that must have sounded like, and hurried to explain. "I can't always stay in my own head, Yohji. When I'm having sex, I start to feel what my partner is feeling, and it's too much. I spill into their head, and I hurt them. I hurt them bad." I searched his eyes for a reaction, any reaction. If he thought I was a monster, I could still get out of here with some shred of dignity.

Yohji caressed my cheek, catching my tears on his fingertips. "How do I make you stop?"

"Don't let me start," I whispered. "I'm not safe on top, Yohji. And face to face is iffy." The memory of Brad in that fisherman's shack flooded my mind with the sight of blood in moonlight, the wet copper smell of it sharp in my nostrils. My erection failed as my body tried to hide from past sins.

Yohji breathed against my lips, his tongue coaxing them to relax and part. He kissed me softly, tenderly, then murmured, "I want you to trust me. All right? I can feel when you get in my head. I won't let you hurt me, Schuldig."

My hands groped for the strength of his shoulders and I nodded, praying that he wasn't bluffing.

Yohji guided me to lie back on the bed, then rained soft kisses over my salty cheeks and eyelids. I tried to concentrate on breathing, on dismissing my fears and memories of old disasters. Strong, sure hands began exploring me again. I lay still, allowing him to take the lead.

He caressed my hips, then ran his hands slowly down my legs, rubbing gently at the tense muscles. His fingertips painted little swirls along my skin, played with the pale hair, gave me chills with each soft touch. Not hurrying, he let his hands wander back up the inner curve of my thighs, stopping short of the rising heat where my legs met. I gasped softly as his caress slid teasingly back downward, brushing across sensitive spots I never knew I had. My mind whirled, focused on my own sensations and anticipating pleasure. Out of habit, I spread my legs wider, offering myself to him.

Yohji knelt between my legs, his fingers tickling just next to my balls. Then he ran his hand through the bristly red hair at the base of my cock before catching hold of the shaft and tugging it up toward my belly. He lowered his head, his hair falling across my erection, to nuzzle my balls. His lips sought the soft skin there, kissing and caressing warmly, then closing gently over the increasingly firm sack and sucking. His hand stroked me as he mouthed my balls, rolling them across his tongue with practiced care. I clutched at his head, the pleasure almost too great.

He released my balls with a final kiss, then his tongue darted lower. I groaned, lifting my hips and hoping he was doing what I thought he was doing. Yohji didn't disappoint; hand still firm around my cock, he found my opening and pressed the tip of his tongue to the tight muscle there. He lapped at me, and fresh surges of ecstasy flashed through my body like lightning. Hot and moist, his tongue pushed into me, whispering lewd promises. My back arched and I nearly came right there, but his hand gripped me firmly and pressed down at the base, holding the climax at bay. I writhed under his ministrations, his tongue unrelenting in its conquest.

Slowly Yohji pulled back, trailing his tongue along my thigh, then up to lick the droplets from my weeping erection. Before this could send me over the edge, he released my cock and crawled forward, his gaze intent on my face. I raised my legs and caught him about the waist, trying to pull him to me. Yohji moved with me, lowering himself to press teasingly between my buttocks. He kissed me, lying full upon me for a moment as he groped at his nightstand.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see he held a jar of lubricant. I reached for it, wanting to feel his slick cock sliding in my hand before guiding it into me. With a wicked smile he held it away from me and shook his head. Yohji moved backward on the bed until he knelt by my feet, then opened the jar and scooped out some of the slippery stuff. He set the open jar next to him on the mattress, then slowly, luxuriously, began stroking himself with the lubricant. I stared, mouth open, at the sight of him: long, lean muscles rippling tautly beneath perfect golden skin, one hand caressing his own chest as the other slid over his glistening cock. He looked at me as he stroked, his eyes hot with desire. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips. "Roll over."

I inhaled sharply, then did what he told me, gathering his pillow under my chest and raising my hips for him. His left hand pressed gently just above my buttocks, rubbing the tension there, then slipped lower to spread me open. Oiled fingers slid inside, first one, then two. I pushed back, and he thrust deeper, fingertips probing. A soft cry escaped my lips as he pressed against my prostate, rubbing it with deliberate slowness. The strong fingers slipped out, only to return not two but three. I buried my face in the pillow, a low growl building in my throat.

But even as I started to tense up, he stopped moving his fingers and gently reached under me to squeeze the base of my cock, holding back the climax yet again. I cursed under my breath; my pulse pounded in my balls, frustrated again at the moment of release. Yohji's left hand returned to my lower back, rubbing gently. His touch was incredibly warm.

My breathing slowed, became less ragged. I wiped my hair out of my eyes and glanced back over my shoulder.

Yohji knelt behind me, one hand on the small of my back, his other hand stroking himself. When he saw that I was watching him, he smiled and moved his hands to my buttocks, parting them. I gasped as he pushed slowly forward. My back arched, and I thrust backward to take him in all the way, but Yohji moved back with me, denying me his length. Yohji rubbed at my back, pressed gently downward until my chest lay full upon the pillow. His hands gripped my hips, raised them a little, then with excruciating slowness he pressed into me.

I whimpered into the pillow. "Gott, mein Gott, gib es mir," I pleaded, wanting more, needing more. I had never been taken with such grace, such care, before. This was bliss, and it was driving me mad.

Yohji continued his slow glide inward, pulling me back onto him in that same deliberate pace until I felt his flat belly against my skin. He paused a moment, then slid back just as slowly, lingering just within the tight ring of muscle that gripped at him with desperate lust. Then with a small movement backward he pulled out completely, making me groan in frustration. Fingers reached below me to caress my balls, then he gripped me in his fist and began stroking. As his hand cupped the head of my cock, he reentered me, not as slow as before but just as deliberate. Fingertips tickled the overly-sensitive tip as he pressed inward, and I was unable to move, caught between wanting to thrust into that wonderful hand and wanting him to fill me till I burst. I clung to the pillow and moaned.

He leaned down and nibbled the back of my neck, sending goosebumps down my arms. As his chest pressed against my back, his other hand slid under me and up to sharply tweak one hard nipple. I cried out and thrust forward, my cock throbbing in his grasp. Yohji's lips caressed the soft spot behind my ear, breathing hot against the fine hairs there and making me shiver violently.

Yohji began to thrust more powerfully, his arms wrapped around me, holding me still. His cock hit my prostate and I growled, the pleasure nearly overwhelming. He raised up from my back, one hand on my hip and the other still wrapped around my cock, now stroking in time with his own thrusts.

Distantly I felt the mental echo of Yohji's pleasure, the tight hot grip around his aching cock, the warm willing body beneath him. I found myself thrusting awkwardly back onto his cock and forward into his hand, greedy for both as my mind tried to decipher which sensations belonged to me and which were phantoms.

His breathing speeded up as he thrust deeper, harder, throwing himself into me with powerful jolts of his hips. It felt good to him, I knew it felt good because I felt it too, he was filling me with his passion, with his flesh, and I shouted as I came, "Yohji! Ach, mein Gott, Yohji!" Behind me Yohji groaned and tensed, pressing fully into me as his cock spasmed, sending its load deep inside. I clenched around him, helpless in the wash of pleasure that held me in its thrall. From far away I heard my own voice, chanting his name like a mantra.

Yohji's hair trailed across my shoulders as he kissed my back and tasted our mingled sweat. I struggled to breath more slowly; the rush of air was making my throat burn. Closing my mouth, I tried to breathe through my nose. Everything smelled like seawater and copper. I touched the back of my hand to the underside of my nose; it was wet. My eyes closed as a mixture of relief and fatigue swept over me: I hadn't harmed Yohji, I'd mind-blasted myself.

As slowly and gently as everything else he'd done that night, Yohji pulled out of me, then rolled me off the sticky spot to lie beside him. When he saw the blood, he frowned in concern. "You all right?"

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

Yohji reached past me and grabbed a tissue from his nightstand, then dabbed at my lip. I gently took the tissue from him, wadded it up and pressed it under my nose, waiting for the flow to stop. Then Yohji took the tissue and tossed it back on the nightstand. He kissed my forehead, my eyelids, my cheeks, before tenderly kissing my lips. My hand rose to tangle in his hair as I kissed him back with sleepy vigor; every muscle in my body wanted sleep, even as every fibre of my being wanted Yohji.

He pulled his pillow up a bit and reclined, cradling me against his chest. Gentle fingers played with my hair, caressed my face and neck and shoulder. I wanted to lie awake in his embrace, but I was floating and heavy at the same time, and sleep would not wait. I sighed into the crook of his neck and drifted gently into dreams.