Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Dirty ❯ Choice ( Chapter 4 )

Title: Dirty

Disclaimers: No, no and no, I do not own, I just like to play with the boys. Don't sue, you'll get a couple of Monopoly paper dollars.

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Yohji and Aya come to terms with their unstable relationship with the unintentional help of an unwelcome rival.

AN: Once again, I am terribly sorry for the long wait. I got my computer back but then the internet was not working! The horror! I bet most of you gave up on my lazy butt. Don't worry here it is as promised. Do drop a line. A lot of people seem to have read this and it hurts my feelings to see that very few have had the courtesy of saying something. Please review. Please note that this is the last chapter and that the Epilogue is coming next. Which by the way, I have already finished! Kudos for me and pocky for all! Yay!

Warning: since I've been pressured for not posting, I was unable to edit this last chappie, watch out for violent punctuation marks, pissed off letters who got thrown out of a Spelling Bee and most of all watch out for the grammatical blunders of stupid me! Ha! That rhymed!

Chapter 3: Choice.

~*~*~*~*~

Rain fell lazily, droplets beating gently against glass windows and dancing with the pebbles on the ground. He stood drenched to the bone, his clothed soaked through, he didn't want to go back to the flower shop, and he just couldn't. White hands fisted inside sodden tight jeans, the black leather coat stuck to his back and wet hair kept getting in his face no matter how many times he pushed it away. Rain spattered happily over the city and time passed by like a weak old lady. He looked up and saw a figure standing on the other side of the alley.

The burning cylinder of tobacco fell carelessly to the wet ground, soon to be crushed by a steel-toed boot. He tried to see the tall silhouette clearly but water kept getting into his eyes. The person came closer and Aya caught a whiff of tobacco.

"Yohji."

A tanned hand reached out to caress a marble cheek, reaching up to brush away the flat wet strands of his hair. Aya remembered a moment like this before, in the dingy interior of a darkened room. They'd both been fools and still were.

Piercing emerald eyes held him in place, he saw the utter indifference in those dead orbs, "I guess I should ask you….,"Yohji said, his voice low, "What the hell you were doing with Schuldig earlier?"

Yohji's tone was lifeless, "Did he fuck you?"

"What business is it of yours?" The angry question burst from his protesting lips. He paid no heed to the way his chest constricted painfully and the muscles in his body tensed.

"You're a traitor to Weiss…….." and to me. The words weren't said but Aya heard them, he saw it in the older man's eyes.

"Move out of the way."

"No."

"I'll kill you."

"I don't care." Yohji's words were cold, heartless, Aya knew he meant it.

"She's not dead," Aya whispered, "Aya-chan is still alive."

Rain pelted down in heavy buckets, Yohji's right arm came around his bony shoulders and Aya gasped, the blonde stared at him dispassionately, "Didn't you hear me? I don't care."

Still Aya held the arm around him, "Don't…………."

He buried his face in Yohji's soaked shirt, but the man made no move to comfort him.

"How long Ayan?"

"A month."

Yohji's form stiffened, "Was it good for you?"

"No!" he shouted, panic welled up in him, stifling him to the point of insanity. "I didn't sleep with him, I……I…….."his voice broke; he tried to keep everything inside, sort it out, make sense of senselessness, Yohji's shouldn't be tainted with his wasted life.

"He wants you Yohji, he doesn't want me. He's been plaguing my dreams for a month, he told me to meet him today to finally settle things. He wants me to let you go; if I do then Aya-chan will be safe."

Water dripped down his face from Yohji's hair, "Will you let me go?"

Aya released him, stepping back to look at Yohji's dreadfully inert face, "Yes."

Fury swirled inside him, his hands trembled and tremors swamped him. Yohji growled, even when he wanted to kill Aya he still wanted to fuck him at the same time. He studied the oval face, the high set of the pinkly brushed cheeks, and the straight slant of the nose merging with the slight flaring of heated nostrils. Dark lashes spiked and wet veiled shimmering violet eyes and the generously shaped mouth parted, he was entranced, he wanted to kiss him. Aya eyed him warily; he always knew when Yohji wanted him.

Aya said, "Yohji I- "

"Shhh, don't talk," came the husky interruption.

Yohji's arms circled around his waist but Aya disengaged himself.

"I don't love you," he said it as if they were discussing the weather.

Yohji smiled slightly, "You don't?"

Aya's head snapped up quickly and he gave Yohji a strange look before nodding.

"I already knew that."

Ay looked away, "When?"

Yohji laughed mirthlessly, "When Aya? Every time I tell you I love you and it takes you twenty seconds to say the words back! Every time I make love to you and you turn your face away, closing your eyes as if just to focus on the pleasure and forget that the person fucking you is me!"

Yohji was panting, his eyes a fiery green, he pushed a ghostly Aya against the wall, banging him against it for good measure, "and you know what else, I know you don't want me or love me because you always take showers after we fuck. You try to erase my touch from your skin and I've heard you crying in the bathroom. I fucking heard you crying that night three months ago! I saw the cuts on your hands A~yan, I saw it all!"

"You were asleep!" Aya shouted, hoping, praying for his worthless cause and barely recovering from his shock.

"I wasn't! Do you think I'm that stupid! God! Why do you think I went back to my old life, I wanted to forget that I ever had you in my bed! I couldn't, you came back to me and I couldn't turn you down, and you know why, you fucking know better than anyone!"

Aya just stared at him, his face a pallid shade, his eyes haunted, "I have to go."

As he turned to leave, Yohji's wiry body crashed into him again, pushing him into the concrete wall, he was glad that he had his leather coat for protection or he'd have some nasty bruises later on. Said coat was stripped from him and thrown away to form a heavy soggy heap.

"Let go Yohji."

Yet Aya could feel the heat, that insatiable need that interweaved from the core of his being to the very tips of his outstretched fingers and then collided back into the most private part of him. Silky lips brushed his throat; he felt the hard teeth on his neck the erotic glide of a curious tongue. Aya hissed; air whistling through his lips, he took hold of Yohji's shirt and brought the man up to face him, Yohji licked his lips, his tongue running suggestively over the pink flesh.

"Why do you always do this?" Aya asked, his voice torn and anguished.

Yohji smiled cruelly, "Because I can."

His mouth parted and soft lips crushed his. He was kissed hungrily, it was an angry kiss, meant to bruise but he wanted it. Oh yes. The blonde caught his mouth with his teeth, pulling at his lower lip, his tongue plunging into him, searching, anxious. Aya met him halfway his arms curling around the nape of Yohji's neck, threading past the wet golden hair and arching his body into the blonde's hard form, their pelvises sliding against each other. The older man kissed his ear; fingers caressed his jaw and brushed against his cheeks. The rain turned into a merry drizzle, falling lightly around them. Skilled digits worked at his fly, desperate and demanding, Yohji nuzzled his neck, his frantic breathing prickling the tiny hairs on his skin. Hands reached inside his wet jeans and he heard Yohji laugh softly, "Good, no underwear."

His lover cupped him gently then squeezed, Aya's vision blanked. Yohji kneeled before him, his movements quick and precise, his lower body was pressed harder against the wall and Yohji took him in his mouth smoothly. He heard a low wet sound and with a soft cry his hands slid over Yohji's tumbled locks, watching with utter ecstasy as he slid in and out of the wet cavern of his lover's mouth. A slithering tongue massaged his cock; Yohji stroked him with his tongue and lips, occasionally running his teeth long the hard length. The blonde pulled back, balancing the weight of his upper body on his knees and letting both his hands reach behind him to lay flat on his discarded coat, eyes challenging and amused at Aya's state of disarray.

"What do you say Aya? Can I screw you into the wall?"

Aya bit his lip, hardening even more as he realized how he must look to Yohji, wearing only a drenched white tee that was glued to his chest and with his dick hanging out of his pants, hard and throbbing, he felt like he was going to explode.

"Yeah," he breathed.

Yohji's hands landed on his hips, slowly pushing his t-shirt upwards and revealing smooth muscled paleness of his stomach. Yohji's tongue lapped at his navel then dipped into the indentation, slick and gentle, his mouth moved up to one of his pebble hard nipples, Aya bucked against him, trying to suppress his moans. Yohji finally raised his head to meet the pale man's dazed eyes, "Lovely," he murmured.

His pants were pulled down hastily, they were wet and it took more time than expected and a few more of Yohji's curses since he had to remove his shoes. Now he stood before Yohji, half naked and vulnerable in the light rain. Yohji tugged at his own zipper impatiently, jerked his pants open and pushed them halfway past lean thighs. Aya's mind swooned as he eyed the proud jut of his lover's erection. Reaching back, Yohji pulled out of small tube from the back pocket of his denims and squeezed a generous glob out, coating the slippery gel over his stiff cock. Aya just followed the languid glide of long fingers on the slick shaft, his breathing quickened as he watched, almost beneath the arc of his lashes, his eyes glittering with desire. Yohji leaned into him and Aya hooked one long leg around the taller man's waist, Yohji lowered his hips, positioning at Aya's entrance.

"Don't prepare me, just do it," he gritted out.

Yohji smiled at him, he pushed inside slowly, feeling the ring of muscle tighten at the intrusion, Aya's glazed eyes clashed with his and Yohji told him, "Don't look away, not now."

Aya nodded slightly, his mouth open and damp as he panted softly. Yohji pushed further into him his lips tightening at the corners, "Gods," he groaned.

Aya placed his hands on Yohji's shoulders and with a swift motion, impaled himself onto Yohji cock. They both moaned loudly. Aya whimpered, wincing at the pain, one of Yohji's hands reached up to brush the bangs out of his face. Aya kissed his palm, the seam of his lips opening shyly, a pink tongue flicked out, lapping at a finger as if it were cream. Yohji smiled and pushed the digit into the warm wetness of his mouth, Aya received it, his tongue curving around it and stroking gently, draping both arms round the back of his neck. Yohji lifted his other leg and Aya twisted them both around the older man's waist, toned limbs constricting around the blonde, once again proving the extent of his elasticity.

Yohji shuddered and Aya whispered fiercely, "Fuck me dammit!"

"Trying to," the blonde murmured, nearly incoherent.

Yohji drove into him, hitting that spot that robbed Aya's vision and sent trails of fire through his body making him want to scream into the rain. Aya stared intently into Yohji's eyes and found love hidden behind clouds of lust. Yohji's slid in and out of his body, fucking him at a measured pace for what seemed to be an eternity to Aya.

Yohji grunted, Aya's slender form tensed in his embrace, the taut skin of his flat abdomen trembled. Yohji was spellbound by the lily whiteness the soft skin and the graceful arch of the long neck. Aya tossed his head back, an expression of pure bliss on his beautiful face, the full mouth opened in wanton moans as the swordsman met his thrusts. Yohji felt the arms around him grip him tighter, urging him closer. Aya leaned forward, trapped against a concrete surface and Yohji's body, his tongue twirled around the taller man's earlobe.

"More," he demanded, his breath coming in harsh pants.

Aya churned with pleasure, his limbs tightening then floating, ecstasy rolled through him as he writhed lusciously against Yohji. The lanky blonde leveled his body, pleasure twisting around him and restricting his world to that sheer moment of carnal passion. He buried his face in Aya's shoulder, licking at the beads of sweat that gathered at the side of his throat, biting into the cloth of the wet t-shirt and into Aya's skin as he increased his pace, smothering his cries. He pounded into the younger man for all he was worth, pleasure spiking to an unbearable level; he rolled his hips into Aya as he freed one hand to stroke his lover's neglected erection. Yohji snapped his hips once more driving into Aya's sweet spot in swift strokes, drinking all of the throaty moans and whimpers, and it was Aya's hoarse cry that sent him over the edge, spasms coursed through him deliciously, strings of unsurpassed pleasure were woven around him. His orgasm came violently, almost at the tremulous edge of pain and he spilled his seed inside Aya as the younger man splattered both their shirts with his own semen. Rain continued to beat around them, drenching their hair, their bodies and yet they were still unaware. Yohji rested against Aya's shoulder, relishing in the quick rise and fall of Aya's chest, their broken breathing and the heat intermingling between their joined bodies.

He pulled out of Aya gently, they both gasped, their sensitized flesh still had them tingling. Long legs untangled from his damp back, Aya shook in his arms, Yohji didn't know if it was the aftermath or revulsion on the redhead's part. Strong hands were removed from his shoulders and for a minute, Aya looked like he would be unable to stand on his own, he pressed his body back against the wall, needing support, still he didn't say a word. Aya refused to make eye contact with him, his head bowed as he moved to grab his wet jeans off the ground, he saw the younger man grimace at the sodden bundle of denim, and remembered the impracticalities of having sex in the rain.

Yohji watched him with hooded eyes and a sardonic smile on his face, watching the disarrayed mop of Aya's hair shift into a lighter shade as the lamps from the street nearby shed a weak light on the darkened alley. Yohji looked at his watch and saw that it was nearly seven thirty. Aya struggled as he pulled on his jeans, so nervous he had become startlingly clumsy. Yohji just shook his head ruefully and with numb realization he noticed that he hadn't even adjusted his own pants. He let out a humorless bark of laughter and Aya turned to look back at him, violet eyes burning with such intense scorn that it floored Yohji.

"This doesn't change a thing," the words were said with calculated softness; the slackness of Aya's face was marred by the mocking drawl to his speech and the cynical twist of his mouth. So he was to be thrown away, Yohji thought.

"Are you doing this only for her?"

The wide mouth upturned at the corners scornfully, "No, I have to let you go, if I don't I'll kill you or you'll kill me."

"You love me." A statement; one last try, desperate hands reaching into nothingness and grasping nothing.

Aya gazed at him through the wet silk of his hair, "No," the redhead stepped into his shoes, eyeing him the whole time, "She's more important, we've outlasted this. It's over."

Yohji wasn't going to plead; he wasn't going to ask for more explanations, nothing mattered. Aya gave him a last fleeting look, disgust masking his yearning and despair, and then he disappeared down the alley, into the mists September rain, his feet splashing into small puddles of water as until his profile became a small dot in Yohji's field of vision, the tall silhouette diminishing by degrees in a seemingly non-existent horizon.

He pulled the wet hair away from his face, his body chilled to the core. Yohji tried to reach for his cigarettes in his pockets but found the crumpled box drenched too. He looked up into the sky, willing the rain to wash him, to cleanse him. He felt old, as if he'd been fighting a meaningless battle for centuries, maybe a millennia, now he was willing to give it all up. Through the hazy numbness in his mind and the murky ache that asphyxiated him, the agony blinded him into a crazed denial that was completely out of his jaded persona. Aya could do that to him, Aya had finally shattered him, he had been made, artfully sculpted and skillfully created to fit Aya's needs yet in a single blow the masterpiece that he once was had splintered, leaving sharp dangerous fragments in his wake. In that rubble he accepted the darkness that had long ago called to him and he willingly succumbed to it. The rain fell forcefully; his shoulder length hair was limp, shaping his skull. He lifted his face into the grey downpour, letting his own tears mix with the Tokyo rain.

~*~*~*~*~*~

He stepped into his bedroom and was brought to an abrupt halt. Shock paralyzed him and he couldn't do anything but stare dumbly in front of him. He felt dizzy, he wondered if the few drinks he'd had at that seedy bar were making him hallucinate. He just stared, his eyes wide and portraying a long forgotten tranquility. His body relaxed; something he had been unable to do for a very long time. His eyes stung a little and he had to blink profusely, a knot had coiled in the depths of his being and it seemed to rise and vibrate in his throat. He couldn't swallow and he forgot the simple machinations that led to the uncomplicated process of respiration. Yohji realized that after all the shit he'd been through nothing else mattered because Aya Fujimiya was finally his; because Aya Fujimiya was now sleeping naked on his bed, pale and beautiful in his apparently non-existent frailty.

A tousled head of hair lifted, the eyes held caution, "Gomen ne," the pale man said quietly.

"Aya-chan?" he asked, not wanting to breathe.

"That's different………. complicated. I won't give you up; you're mine."

Yohji held himself in check, if this was another one of Aya's games he would gut the bastard with his own katana, he held no uncertainties about his train of thought and voiced the threat to Aya.

Low laughter greeted him and Aya said, "C'mere."

Yohji smiled tremulously and did what he was told, shedding wet clothes in an uncaring trail. It reminded him of a quiet tableau, long, long ago. It brought forth cherished memories of that night, of the place in which their paths had shifted, shaped towards their personal road to perdition. He wanted it, he missed it, and he needed it. They were both soiled, dirty with blood and sin, but at the same time it was okay, because he no longer cared. He got into bed and sighed as he held Aya's warm body against his, running his hands possessively over the lean muscles of his belly, kissing the long neck and the smiling lips.

"I thought you had left me."

Silence, then, "So did I."

"But you came back."

A brief nod and a gentle lick to his ear, Yohji shuddered.

"I'm here aren't I?"

"Thank you."

Arms went around him and Aya whispered, "I love you."

Yohji lay still, not breathing; feeling like a great weight was lifted from his shoulders. He felt like he was floating in a sea of red in which all he could see was Aya. He wanted to cry, he wanted to laugh, most of all he wanted to strangle the bastard for putting him through such a mess. Yet the only thing he found himself saying was……………

"About damn time," he growled. Aya elbowed him in mock anger.

"I mean it this time, Yotan."

"I can live with that."

Aya looked into his eyes, his expression anxious, probing, a distressed question he was too afraid to voice. Yohji kissed him, long and delicious, a gentle meeting of tongues that brought a dangerous balance between uncontrolled desire and deliberate lethargy. Aya sighed into the kiss, relishing, accepting and needy. Still, he held back, he wanted something. Yohji knew what. The talented mouth took him in a wet kiss once more and Yohji whispered, "I love you too."

It was enough; those words would forever be enough. They were dirty, filthy with the blood and screams of their victims, sullied with the outspoken shame of their unnatural relationship, but they had a moment of cleansing in their love. The dying embers of that ancient flame had been rekindled and that scorching pleasure began all over again, as if it had never left their realm of uninhibited ecstasy.

~fin~

Ha! So much for a dry spell during the summer. I realize that I always write well when I'm either upset or drunk. I was upset. Yay! Only the epilogue to go and that I will post in a week or so as soon as I find the time to edit it, if you would like to see it posted faster the e-mail me at yinmp@msn.com and please tell me you'll beta it! I'll send it right away! Btw, if you just can't stand all my errors then feel free to send me your betaed version of this chappie, I'll post it. Partay! I'm so happy! Well I hope you enjoyed the sequel to Dark Release if you haven't read it then go read it! This isn't edited, who cares?! IT'S DONE!!!!

One epilogue coming right up!