Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Cops and Kittens ❯ Making Nice ( Chapter 3 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Chapter 3: Making Nice

“Aya, that better not be who I think it is,” Ken warned as the redhead half carried, half dragged the police officer to the car.

“Now is not the time to argue. Help me here, the idiot got himself shot.” Ken started to say something in protest, but the icy purple gaze that promised great bodily harm stopped him.

“What are we supposed to do with him?” Ken was able to maneuver the lanky blonde into the backseat of the jeep without jostling him too much.

“Hospital. I was able to get the bullet out, but he is going to need medical attention.” Aya climbed into the passenger seat of the jeep and waited on Ken.

“No. No hospital,” the blonde murmured weakly.

“You idiot. You’ve bled yourself white and now you’re refusing to go to a hospital. Aya, do something. Beat some sense into this moron.” Ken glared at the policeman in the back seat as Aya rubbed the bridge of his nose in an agitated manner.

“You don’t understand! If my boss finds out I’ve been wounded, he’ll take me off this case. I can’t let that happen. This assignment is personal. I have to make sure these guys go down.” Yohji’s voice was thick with emotion, as if he was fighting back tears.

“Fine. Take him back to the flower shop and we’ll patch him up the best that we can. If the baka dies in the next few hours, it’s not our fault.” The redhead shrugged indifferently and turned his gaze to the passenger side window, letting both Ken and Yohji know the topic was no longer open for discussion.

“You know, Detective, you are more trouble than you’re worth,” Ken spat out as he put the vehicle in gear and headed for the Koneko.

********

“Aya-kun, do you really think it is a good idea to bring him here? Even if we were not in the situation that we are in, he needs to be in a hospital and not sleeping in your room,” Omi stated as he came back downstairs to the mission room.

“Actually, this situation is much better than you think it is.” The matching scowls he Aya was receiving from both Omi and Ken spoke of their disbelief.

“So, tell us, fearless leader, how is having a police detective in our home going to help our situation?” Ken crossed his arms in a warning stating the answer best be good, or he was going to pummel the redhead into next week.

“Think about it. If he is here, doped up on the meds that Omi gave him, he’s not going to be out there investigating Liotte while we are trying to do our job.” Omi and Ken looked at each other for a moment while they considered the redhead’s words before blinking in understanding. Omi nodded and Ken shrugged.

“Damn, I hate it when you’re right,” Ken muttered as the group walked out to their respective vehicles. “Aren’t you ever wrong?”

“I try not to be.” From anyone else, it would have sounded like a joke, but from Aya, Ken knew that he was serious.

“But didn’t he think it was odd that you just happened to be at the Riot building?” Omi’s innocent question caused the redhead to stop in his tracks, which made the other two to stop and look at him.

“No, just assumed that I was a prostitute. I didn’t correct the assumption.” ‘Not that I didn’t want to,’ the redhead mentally added.

Ken and Omi looked Aya in shock for a few moments before what the redhead said really started to sink in. They wasn’t going to laugh . . . really. Aya being mistaken for a prostitute wasn’t all that funny. They made an effort to remain composed and not laugh, really they did, but the proud look on the redhead’s face, teamed with an embarrassed blush was more of an obstacle than their self-control could handle. A loud double burst of laughter filled the garage and caused Aya to scowl.

“It’s not funny,” Aya growled out between clenched teeth.

“Like hell it isn’t!” Ken managed to say between chuckles.

“Ken-kun’s right. We just can’t imagine you allowing anyone to touch you, whether they paid you or not.” Omi tried to put on a serious mask, but an amused little grin remained on his lips.
“I can see it now: Some guy comes up and asks Aya how much and he screams ‘shi-ne’ and cuts the guy’s dick off. His luck though, the dude would be into shit like that,” Ken chuckled out.

“I think that’s quite enough you two. If I hear one more word about this, I swear I will make your lives living hell.” Aya said no more, but walked toward his car, leaving no doubt in the two younger men’s minds that he meant what he said. They were just glad that the redhead had a mission to vent his frustrations out on, they were safe from the infamous redhead temper . . . for now.

********

“Man, I feel like I’ve been shot,” Yohji muttered as he drifted back to consciousness. He shifted in bed and felt a burning pain shoot up his side and made a cold sweat break out on his forehead. He hissed a sharp breath between clenched teeth as he tried to remain still to allow the pain to abate. “Oh yeah, I was shot,” he groaned in pain.

When the agony began to fade into a steady throb, the blonde opened his eyes and found himself in unfamiliar surroundings. There really wasn’t much in the room to tell him who the owner may be. In fact, it looked like someone had just moved in the place. There were no pictures, posters, or decorations of any kind. The only item that he could make out in the darkened room was a night stand with a lamp, a bottle of lotion, containers of medical creams for various things ranging from burns to sore muscles, and a clock that read 2:30 . . . Yohji assumed that it was a.m., considering it was still dark. A few candles flickered in the deeper recesses of the room and the dancing flames drew the detective’s attention to an object silhouetted in the window on the far end of the room. Yohji turned on the lamp to see the last thing he was expecting.

Aya was sleeping peacefully in a cushioned window seat, dressed only in a pair of grey sweat pants. He was facing the bed and Yohji, his head propped up against the glass pane of the window. His bangs were in wild disarray against his forehead and his closed eyelids. His lips were parted softly, and his breaths were causing a small area window to fog up every time he would exhale. The leg against the window, the right leg, was bent at the knee, while the other was completely extended. His left arm was dangling off the seat while his right loosely held a book to his bare chest. It was the first time Yohji had seen the redhead relaxed and it was absolutely adorable.

“Aya, wake up . . . please . . . Ay . . . a,” the redhead muttered in his sleep, leaving Yohji momentarily confused, until he realized that the redhead’s sister was Aya and he was Ran, Randy or something like that. A sudden, blood-curdling scream from the redhead in question startled Yohji out of his thoughts. He watched mutely as Aya woke, gasping for air and looking around the room like a hunted animal.

“Hey, you alright?” Aya jumped at the sound of the smooth tenor voice.

“You’re awake. Are you in pain?” Before Yohji had a chance to answer, there was a knock at the bedroom door.

“Aya-kun, are you okay?” A voice drifted from the other side of the door.

“I’m fine Omi, go back to bed,” the redhead answered without taking his eyes off the blonde in his bed.

“Okay, sleep well Aya-kun.” Omi’s soft footsteps retreated back down the hall, but they seemed to stop at Ken’s room instead of going all the way down. Aya didn’t want to even contemplate that development. He had bigger problems . . . like a police detective in his bed.

“How long have you been awake?” The deep baritone rumbled through the room, making Yohji wonder what the voice would sound like when it was laced with something other acidic contempt and annoyance. The redhead had the kind of voice that made your nerve-endings hum and your limbs melt into jelly, yet he used it for such cold purposes, like letting Yohji he was not exactly thrilled to have the blonde in his bed.

“Long enough to know you have horrible nightmares. Tell me, is arranging flowers such a scary business that you have trouble sleeping at night?” The redhead glared and stood. He placed the book face-down on the window sill and approached the bed.

“Are you in pain or not, you stubborn bastard? Not that I care mind you, but the more pain that you are in, the more you will tense, which means it will take you longer to heal. That results in you being here longer than I would like, and I want to be rid of you.” Aya picked up a bottle of painkillers and retrieved one for the officer. Handing the blonde the pill, he retreated into the bathroom that was connected to his room and got a glass of water. The blonde popped the pill in his mouth, took the water from the redhead and took a drink to wash down the pill.

“Why do you do it?” Yohji asked as Aya took the glass from him and sat it on the night stand.

“Do what?” The redhead shivered, walked over to the closet, and started to snatch a sweatshirt.

“Sell yourself.” Ran stiffened and stopped his quest for a shirt. “Why do you let some stranger use your body?”

“I need the money, not that it’s any of your business. I have greater obligations than my pride.” Aya walked back over to the bed and checked the blonde’s temperature with his wrist. Yohji gently grasped the pale arm and lowered it.

“You’re better than that,” he stated softly.

“It pays well.” Aya knew that this conversation had a double meaning to it, even if the blonde was unaware of this fact.

“How well? Tell me, what’s the going rate nowadays?” Violet eyes widened with shock.

“W-what?”

“How much would you charge me just to spend the night in bed with me, doing nothing but sleep?” A blush traitorously stained pale cheeks.

“Are you nuts?”

“No. I just want to be held tonight, and I want to know how much it’s going to cost me.” Aya looked away for a moment.

“I don’t know,” he whispered.

“How can you not know how much you cost?” The blonde had the nerve to chuckle.

“It’s not like that I have ever had anyone ask for that before!” Aya was practically yelling.

“How about we decide in the morning then.” Yohji threw back the covers and made a motion for the redhead to join him. Amethyst eyes dropped to the mattress adorned in plain blue sheets then traveled up to meet a questioning emerald gaze. “I’m not going to hurt you.” Aya finally, albeit very reluctantly, climbed into the bed and settled stiffly beside the police detective. The blonde wrapped his arms around the resisting redhead and pulled him close.

“What are you doing?” The question was barely audible as their bodies were starting to align more comfortably.

“I told you that I wanted to be held.” Pale arms hesitantly wrapped around Yohji, holding him in an awkward embrace. “See, I told you that I wasn’t going to hurt you.” A few seconds later, the blonde was snoring softly against Aya’s neck.

“You already have,” the assassin whispered as his heart pounded. It hurt like nothing he had ever experienced because no one had ever wanted to hold him like this before. It hurt because it felt good. It hurt because he didn’t deserve it. It hurt because he had to whore himself to get this feeling. It hurt because this was the only time he had ever shared his bed with another, and that person didn’t care anything for him at all. It hurt because he knew . . . he knew that people just didn’t feel for him. Most of all, it hurt because this would be the only time he would experience this feeling.

This time, when he fell asleep, he didn’t dream.

********

“Damn birds, can’t let a fellow sleep,” Yohji groaned as the sound of birds chirping merrily woke him from his sleep. He felt a weight and a tickle on his chest, so he opened his eyes and looked down to see a bright, tussled mass of crimson hair resting against his chest. The blonde smiled. The redhead was sleeping quite peacefully. Aya murmured something that sounded like a pleased murmur and snuggled closer to the blonde’s side and threw a leg over one of Yohji’s, his cold feet coming into contact with the blonde’s warm leg.

“Holy . . . cold feet.” Yohji felt a chill race up his spine at the contact, but made no movement to ward off the icy appendage. “We need to invest into some socks for you if we are going to do this more often,” he whispered into tangled crimson silk.

The blonde officer took the time to take in his surroundings in the daylight. The walls and shelves were just as bare as he remembered, making him wonder just how long the redhead had lived here. He also took notice that the sheets had slid down to the redhead’s waist during the course of the night, showing a tantalizing bit of pale flesh. However, there was one little detail that really disturbed him . . . the fact that the pale skin was marred with scars. Not so many that it was unattractive, but enough to make Yohji realize that they were not caused by everyday bumps and scrapes. By the shape and size of them, it was obvious that these were scars caused by either abuse, a horrible accident, or by battle. Many, strangely enough, seemed to be old gunshot wounds. Just what had the redhead gotten himself into. If those marks were from the younger man’s Johns . . . Yohji was not going to be responsible for his actions.

However, there was a feeling in the blonde’s gut that those scars had a much more sinister origin.

The sound of Yohji’s pager brought the blonde from his musings and caused the redhead to jerk awake. In a matter of seconds, Aya had untangled himself from Yohji and the bed and was crouched down in a defensive stance, awaiting an attack. The younger man’s reflexes were amazing and the officer found himself impressed and suspicious at the same time. That wasn’t a normal reaction a florist would have. Hell, Yohji was willing to wager that it would be difficult to find a prostitute with that kind of reaction too. Not liking the direction of his thoughts, the blonde located his pager on the night stand and studied the number that appeared on the little gray screen.

“Mind if I use your phone?” Yohji’s voice seemed to startle Aya out of his defensive mode and the redhead relaxed . . . somewhat. He walked over to his desk and retrieved the cordless phone and handed it to Yohji.

“Help yourself,” he stated in a sleep roughened voice that the blonde found incredibly sensual.

“Thanks.” Aya watched as the police detective dialed the phone before turning to go to the bathroom. He quickly drained his bladder and washed his hands. He splashed some cold water on his face before reaching for a towel. He was stalling and he knew it. He didn’t want to have to go back in his room so he and the blonde could slip back into their normal routine. After having the best sleep since his parents died, he just didn’t feel the normally present animosity toward the officer this morning. He was emotionally exhausted and just didn’t have the energy to put into a fight. Steeling himself with a deep breath, Aya opened the bathroom door and walked back into the bedroom to find Yohji struggling to get dressed.

“Just where do you think you are going in that condition?” The detective jumped at the unexpected sound of the redhead’s voice.

“That was the office. I have to go . . . there’s been another murder.” Yohji was finally able to get his pants on, but it seemed that his shirt was no where to be found. He searched for a few moments when he realized that the stoic redhead had used it to bandage his wound. He looked at the annoyed younger man and offered a sheepish smile.

“What do you want now?”

“Could I borrow a shirt? You destroyed mine last night.” Aya snorted in an undignified manner but walked over to his dresser and pulled out a rust-colored long sleeved t-shirt. Yohji tried not to wince when he noticed how badly the shirt clashed with the younger man’s hair. Did the boy ever look at himself in a mirror?

“Here,” the redhead growled.

“Thanks.” Yohji took the shirt and slipped it over his head, trying not to notice how it smelled like the redhead . . . clean, masculine . . . very nice. For some odd reason, Yohji wasn’t disturbed by the thought that he was starting to feel an attraction toward the redhead, even after his suspicions that the younger man was a murderer. Instead, he almost felt the rush of excitement coursing through him. He hadn’t felt this alive since Asuka had been murdered.

“Your car is parked behind the shop. Ken and I went after it last night while you were still out.” Aya dug out a shirt for himself and pulled it on. Before he could get it all the way down his torso, gentle, warm hands were combing his tangled bangs out of his eyes. While the gesture was shocking, it didn’t prepare him for the blonde officer taking his face in his strong, tanned hands.

“Have dinner with me tomorrow night.” The request sounded almost like a plea as Yohji stared down into deep amethyst pools. Of course he had noticed the unique color of the redhead’s eyes upon their first meeting, but he had never been aware of how they could pull you in, making you feel like you were drowning in them. “A real date. Dinner, and maybe a movie, and you don’t have to provide any favors afterward.”

“I don’t know if that is such a good idea...”

“Please. I know I was a jerk before, but at least give me a chance to make it up to you.” The redhead bit his lower lip and diverted his eyes in thought. “You can even pick the place, just say you’ll come. I promise I’ll be on my best behavior. I’ll beg if I have to.”

“Please don’t. I already have a headache, and the last thing I need is to hear your whining.”

“You just told a joke, didn’t you?” Yohji grinned.

“What? You couldn’t tell? You know detective, you should be more observant in your line of work.”

“You know, maybe I should spend the night more often, you’re much more pleasant.” Yohji put his hands on the redhead’s hips, like they were meant to go there.

“You just want to get into my pants, I know your type. You detectives are all the same, love ‘em, then leave ‘em,” Aya dead panned.

“I promise that’s not it! I don’t want to get in your pants...well I do, but...” It took the blonde a moment to notice that the redhead was looking down at his feet with his lips pursed together. He narrowed his eyes and gently coaxed Aya to raise his head. When the redhead did, the blonde noticed the amusement dancing in amethyst eyes. “You little shit. You had me thinking that you thought I was some player or something.”

“You should have seen the look on your face, it was priceless. You looked so...Mmph...” Aya was cut off by Yohji engaging a playful, nipping kiss that sent shivers down his spine. The detective took a moment to plunder the assassin’s mouth with his tongue before breaking the kiss.

“Is that a yes? I mean, would it be so horrible to have dinner with me? We can even take separate cars if you want to.” Aya wasn’t sure when it happened, but he had his arms draped around the blonde’s neck with Yohji’s forehead pressed to his. This wasn’t supposed to feel good, but it did. He wasn’t supposed to want this, but he did. He didn’t want to need this, but he was starting to. He shouldn’t agree to go, but he was going to. He shouldn’t play with fire, but he was going to dance dangerously close and wait for the moment he would get burned.

“Okay, I’ll go out with you, but I’ll pick you up. And I won’t be your prostitute afterward, paid or otherwise.”

“I wouldn’t want you to. I just want the pleasure of your company for one evening...where I’m not a detective and you’re not a florist with something to hide. Where we can be just us, and not worry about consequences. Is that crazy? Are we crazy?” Yohji whispered against Aya’s lips.

“We’re fucking lunatics, but I don’t suppose we are going to do a damn thing about it,” the redhead replied, his lips brushing against Yohji’s, creating a tickling sensation.

“I guess I better go, I have to get to work, and if I don’t leave now, I may never leave. I’ll call you tonight and we’ll decide place, time, and other various details. Have a good afternoon, Aya.” With that, Yohji let Aya go and walked out the door, feeling lightheaded, despite the pain in his side. He actually had a date he was looking forward to just for opportunity to spend time getting to know the person. That hadn’t happened since before Asuka died. For the past two years, his dates had been nothing but an endless stream of one-night stands. Tomorrow night, however, that was about to change.

Aya closed his eyes tightly as if he were in pain. Tomorrow he would go out with the detective and enjoy the evening while it lasted, then he would blow the blonde off. He couldn’t afford to let the other man get close. It could threaten the safety of Kritiker, his teammates, his sister...and his heart. He couldn’t allow himself to start feeling now, there was too many responsibilities piled on his shoulders.

But as he heard the Caterham Super Seven start outside, he couldn’t help but wonder what if...


“It’s about damn time you got here. This place is a mad house,” Ryo stated as Yohji stepped under the yellow crime-scene tape. “Damn, you look like shit.”

“Thank you asshole. But at least I still look better than you,” Yohji quipped. “Now fill me in on the details.”

“Well, it looks like our vigilantes strike again. And, you know, I can’t really find myself feeling real sorry for their victims. For example, big boy over here was sliced up pretty bad by what looks like bear claws – he’s notorious for slave trading. And the man and woman over there…”

“Yeah, I know all about them. I don’t feel sorry for them either, but it doesn’t justify someone stepping outside the boundaries of the law and taking matters into their own hands,” Yohji growled, even though he was inwardly jumping for joy. These bastards got just what they deserved.

“I don’t think it would have mattered if we were able to arrest them or not. They have connections to some pretty impressive political figures and judges. They probably would be out on the streets in less than a week. Come to think of it…those guys that tried to kill that girl a few days ago seemed to know a lot of the same people. There’s something to ponder.” Ryo’s face took on a more thoughtful expression.

“Are you suggesting that these vigilantes are on to something that we’re missing?” Ryo just shrugged his shoulders in a smart-assed manner. “Yeah, yeah I get it. We’ll look into it. But, for now, we need to get all the information we can on our murders here. No matter what, they are still criminals.”

“Well, let’s get to work then partner.” Yohji just nodded in response and hoped that no one noticed that he was fighting a wave of pain with every movement. He did not want to have to explain to anyone what exactly happened the night before, because he was not sure that he could even come up with an explanation for it. The only thing that he was certain of at that moment that a pair of violet eyes filled with anger and sadness made him rush into things that he normally would have thought out. Yes, if asked, he would blame it on a beautiful redhead with a girl’s name and impossible eyes.

Sorry that it has taken me so much time to get this out, but I had a lot going on in my personal life. If this chapter totally sucks, I’m very sorry.

Laters,
sirencirce