Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Don't Make Me Kill You ❯ The ABCs ( Chapter 4 )

Aya caught sight of his reflection in the shop's plate-glass window and reflexively straightened his shoulders. He was creeping about like a small, wayward child. That wouldn't do. Taking a deep breath, he walked over to where Ken was setting up a display and cleared his throat.

 

Startled, Ken tossed a small handful of greenery all over the table. He turned and gave Aya a dark look. “Don't even try to tell me you didn't do that on purpose. Ah, ah, ah” -- he held his palm up in the “stop right there” pose -- “I told you, don't even try it. What the hell are you doing here, anyway, besides showing off your superior skulking skills? I'm supposed to be by myself until lunchtime.”

 

“I know. I... needed to talk to you about something.”

 

“Something heavy and important?”

 

Aya gave him a look.

 

“OK.” Ken turned the open sign to “closed” and motioned for Aya to follow him into the back room. “What's up?” Ken asked, leaning nonchalantly against a counter and instantly fiddling with the contents thereof.

 

“I was wondering...” Aya hesitated. “Was Maradona's World Cup goal a hand ball?”

 

Ken gave him a look, but answered the question as asked. “Of course. But it still counted, since the ref didn't call it.” While speaking, Ken gabbed a cotton swab and began digging his his ear with it. Upon withdrawing it he carefully inspected the results, frowned, and threw it into the trash bin. “Yuck.”

 

Aya was appalled. “You know, some people do that in private.”

 

“Right. Maybe fastidious pussies do. But real men clean their ears wherever they feel like it.”

 

Aya felt himself frowning. Maybe this wasn't the way to go, after all.

 

“When did you discover this burning need to ask my opinion about Maradona, anyway, Aya?”

 

“Well, everybody was talking about it. And I'm interested in football.”

 

“Right. And now I guess it's time to go to hell and try to sell Satan an overcoat, huh?”

 

Aya felt his frown slip into a full-blown scowl. “Never mind, Ken. This was a bad idea.” He turned to leave, but Ken grabbed his arm.

 

“Oh, come on, that was a good one.” He smiled warmly. “My unfailing wit -- it's one of the things I like best about me.”

 

Aya stared at him. Well, maybe it would be OK. People liked Ken, after all, and nobody liked Aya -- well, except Yoji -- so that must mean Ken knew something he didn't. Aya decided he would press ahead and hope for the best. Not that hoping for the best had ever worked for him yet. “Ken, I'm meeting Rei Nakata tonight at her place.”

 

“Hey, good job. I was wondering how it went. All right, then, I guess.”

 

“I got some information, and she's interested in seeing me again, so I'm optimistic.”

 

“Well, there you go,” Ken said, sounding more relieved than Aya would have liked. “I mean, there's nothing wrong with you -- except maybe the brooding silences, psychopathic rages and dangerous mood swings -- but hey, some people like that shit. Look at Yoji.”

 

Aya now found himself feeling rather sour, and perhaps Ken sensed a certain amount of danger, as he let his insurgent laughter die quickly and composed his face. “But anyway. What did you want to talk about?”

 

Aya took a deep breath. Best to get it over with. “I'm probably going to have to sleep with her. I've never had sex with a woman before. I was hoping...” -- another deep breath -- “...youcouldgivemesomepointers.” Saying the words very quickly didn't make them any less embarrassing. Aya forced himself to meet Ken's eye anyway.

 

And Ken's eyes were huge. Also, his jaw actually dropped open.

 

“You look like an imbecile. Shut your mouth. And blink.”

 

“I just... wow. You never cease to amaze me, Aya.” Ken thought for a few moments, reaching for another swab. Aya swatted it from his hand, annoyed. Ken continued, nonplussed. “I mean, why aren't you asking Yoji? He knows every trick in the book. Plus, you sleep with him, so wouldn't it be less awkward to have the sex talk with him?”

 

“I've never known you to be embarrassed about much of anything before. You talk almost as big as Yoji.”

 

“Yeah, well, some things... Anyway, he's way more experienced than I am. Than, you know, just about anybody.”

 

“Ken, I would cut off my left hand before I would sit there and listen to Yoji tell me about how he pleases the ladies.”

 

Ken paused. “Well, what about the Internet? There's a lot of information about sex on the Internet.”

 

Aya was starting to feel put out. “How long has it been since you've actually had sex, Ken? With another person, I mean.”

 

“Geez, there's no need to be mean about it. I know how to do it, I just don't know how to talk to you about how to do it.”

 

No, Aya did not care for Ken's tone. “What do you mean by that?” he asked frostily.

 

“See, that right there. That's what I'm talking about. It's hard to talk to you about what you want on your pizza, much less something intimate.” Aya turned to leave. “Oh, stop it, Aya. I'll try to help. Just let me think for a second.” Aya sat down, waiting. “OK. Have you ever, you know, done anything with a woman?”

 

Aya shook his head. No.

 

“All right.” Ken took a deep breath, released it, cracked his knuckles. “The thing is to keep your eye on the clitoris. The clitoris is the bit that's right, uh, here,” he said, gesturing vaguely to where the body part in question would be located.

 

Aya rolled his eyes. “I have a basic knowledge of human anatomy, Ken.” Ken looked relieved. He's just trying to help, Aya told himself. You came to him. Violence is not the answer.

 

“Let me save us both some pain. I know what the parts are. I know where the parts are supposed to go. I'm looking for practical information on how to make the bit between finding the parts and putting them where they're supposed to go reasonably enjoyable for the woman.”

 

“Oh. Yeah. Well, everybody likes oral sex.”

 

“Ah.” Must remain calm, must remain calm... “And do you have any tips on that?”

 

“Well, I've had good luck with the alphabet.”

 

“The... alphabet.”

 

“Uh huh. You trace every letter of the alphabet with your tongue. Like this.” Ken opened his mouth, stuck out his tongue, and started tracing A, B, C...

 

Aya watched in horrified fascination, then put up his hand. “I get it. OK. Um, thanks.” He hurried from the room and ran upstairs. The Internet it is, he thought.

 

**********

 

Several enlightening, if terrifying, hours later, Aya sat before his computer screen, shoulders tense and mind reeling. Obtaining information hadn't been difficult at all, once he'd narrowed his search terms, but... He was startled by a light touch on his shoulder.

 

“What cha up to, baby?” Doing a little re... Holy shit! What the fuck are you looking at?”

 

“Didn't think I'd have to explain it to you,” Aya said dryly.

 

“Jesus Christ, what is this...” Yoji leaned over Aya's shoulder to read the URL. “Fucked by Machines?” he shrieked.

 

“Keep your voice down. I wound up there by accident, but then I just... had to know.”

 

Yoji closed the window on the computer, looking over his shoulder at the door he'd left open. “Yeah, well. Omi doesn't need to know.”

 

“I'm sure Omi has seen much worse than this.”

 

“God, I hope not,” Yoji muttered. “Anyway, what the hell were you looking for that you wound up... Oh.”

 

“I thought I should do some research.”

 

“Yeah. That makes sense.”

 

“I didn't want to talk to you about it.”

 

“I didn't want to talk to you about it, either.” Yoji doubled back and closed Aya's door, then walked over to the bed and sat on one corner. “Come here for a minute.”

 

“Yoji, I'm busy. I need to...”

 

“Come over here.”

 

Sighing, Aya pushed back his chair and stood up. He stretched and rolled his shoulders. He could do with a break, really. His ass hurt from sitting so long.

 

“Come on.”

 

Aya walked over and stood in front of Yoji. “Don't feel like sitting.”

 

“Sit anyway,” Yoji said, grabbing Aya's arm and yanking him down. Yoji could be damned fast. “Find anything that turned you on?”

 

“That's not what this is about. I just need to...”

 

“You're wrong,” Yoji interrupted quietly. “Let me help you with this. Did any of it turn you on?”

 

Aya hesitated. “No.” He didn't like the question but had to admit he liked the way it was asked. Yoji's voice was soft and sexy, and the look in his eyes promised good things.

 

“You're worrying about the wrong stuff.”

 

“How do you know that?”

 

“I know you. Listen, you can probably hold her off one more night, but she's going to expect you to put out on the third date.” Yoji smiled at Aya's scowl, which was in no way lacking despite the sudden onset. “Get her to give you head. She's been around, I bet she knows what she's doing.”

 

“Yoji,” Aya growled in warning.

 

“Hey, what's wrong with that? You like getting head, I know you do. It's the easiest way to go. If you get into it, you can do whatever you want from there. But if you're not into it, just close your eyes and think of Yoji.” He smiled again. “It's only polite to reciprocate, though. You won't have any trouble -- just watch her responses, and when you find something she likes, keep doing it. It's just like a fight, really. You read all the signals and act accordingly. Keep at it until the target's down.”

 

Aya had already rejected the idea of coming to his lover for advice on how to sex up a woman. He didn't like the mental images it conjured up. The feeling of vague emotional turmoil and free-floating anger now welling up in his chest only confirmed how right he'd been. “Yoji, shut the fuck up. I told you I don't want to talk about this.”

 

“If I shut up every time you didn't want to talk about something I wouldn't even know your God-damned name. I'm not telling you anything personal, I'm just suggesting an overall strategy. Are you really that jealous?”

 

Aya didn't have time to think -- the fury took over in an instant, and then there was no room for anything else. “Out.” It was only one word -- that was all he could manage -- but he was satisfied with the amount of malice he'd managed to convey.

 

Yoji ignored him, as was Yoji's wont. “Oh, come on...”

 

“Did you roll your eyes at me?” Aya spat in disbelief.

 

“Yes, I fucking well did.” Yoji sounded angry, too. Good. Perhaps it would make it easier for him to defend himself. “God damn it, Aya, I'm just trying to help. I know you don't like to think about me with anybody else, and I don't want to hurt you, but...”

 

Standing up quickly, Aya brought his elbow up hard under Yoji's jaw, then backed away a few steps. “I said go.”

 

Holding his hand to his face, Yoji gave him a baleful look. “That was low,” he finally said. Aya always thought Yoji was hot when he acted like this -- you really got a sense of what he was capable of. A shiver of sexual excitement combined with Aya's consuming anger to create a potentially dangerous combination -- except that part of his brain had already made it clear to him that he was being unreasonable. And unjust. He didn't actually know why he was so furious, and he should stand down. But that stare...

 

Yoji stood up and walked toward the door. Then, at the last second, he rounded on Aya without missing a beat and kicked out, catching him in the center of the chest and knocking the air out of him. Yoji followed smoothly with a punch to the gut and stopped to admire his work as Aya bent over, staggering.

 

Aya's next move was automatic. He lurched a step closer to Yoji, then launched himself at the other man's knees, bringing him down with a gratifyingly loud thud. Aya climbed on top of a winded Yoji and drew back his fist, but Yoji recovered too quickly and blocked the punch. Grappling with Aya and finally catching him off balance, Yoji got on top and pinned Aya's arms to the floor. He quickly positioned his body across Aya's legs to keep them down, and then he stared heatedly into Aya's eyes, face close enough that Aya could feel his harsh breathing against his lips. They were deadlocked -- Aya couldn't fight, but Yoji couldn't do anything other than hold him down.

 

Finally coming more or less to his senses, Aya realized he didn't want to actually injure Yoji. But he couldn't concede the fight to him like this, either. Without thinking, he lifted his head and raised his lips to Yoji's, kissing him lightly at first, then deeper. When Yoji stated moaning quietly and grinding against Aya's hips, Aya threw him and leaped back into a crouching position.

 

Giving Aya a hurt look, Yoji sat up and wrapped his arms around himself. “Fine, you win,” he said, sounding disgusted.

 

Aya relaxed his stance but remained watchful.

 

Yoji narrowed his eyes. “Don't you ever use my feelings for you against me again.” He brought a knuckle to his mouth and sucked on it -- must have gotten banged up in the scuffle. “I won't put up with absolutely anything from you, Aya. I don't care if you kick my ass, but...” He stopped and shook his head. “Fine, you're not jealous. You're a God-damned psychopathic dick, but you're not jealous.”

 

Aya hated being on uncertain ground. He didn't exactly understand what Yoji was saying about why he was so angry, but Aya was now pretty sure it had been wrong of him to start the fight. As for being jealous -- well, what the hell did it feel like to be jealous? Maybe he was -- after all, something had set him off. Yoji confused the hell out of him.

 

“Are you even listening to me?” Yoji was shaking his head incredulously. “What the fuck is your problem? It's like you're from another God-damned planet sometimes.”

 

Yes, Aya mused, I often feel that way myself. He figured he should probably apologize, and he should probably ask Yoji to explain what was going on. It was cowardly of him to avoid it.

 

Aya walked over to Yoji and kneeled down in front of him. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Why was this so hard to say? He forced himself to continue. “I'm sorry.” He met Yoji's eyes when he said it.

 

Yoji looked dumbfounded. He looked down for a few moments, but then, grinning wickedly, he pulled Aya into his lap and held him. “OK,” he whispered in Aya's ear. “I won't give you any more advice on sex unless you ask.”

 

“Well,” Aya finally said, “it wasn't actually bad advice, I guess. And it doesn't conflict with what Ken said.”

 

“Ken gave you advice? Aya, that's like going to the desert to learn how to surf. What did he tell you?”

 

“Ask him yourself -- I don't want to talk about it. I'm still a little traumatized.”

 

“Oh, I'll ask him, all right. First things first, though. I could use some... special attention... to help me get over my emotional trauma. You know?”

 

Aya opened his mouth to say something snarky, then closed it. The suggestion had merit, actually. “You get me hard when you get mad like that,” he said quietly, biting Yoji's ear.

 

“I just plain get you hard, Aya.” There was that sexy tone of voice again.

 

Deciding the point wasn't worth arguing, Aya pushed Yoji over and threw himself on top of him. Yoji's mouth was already open, probably to complain, so Aya headed him off by kissing him forcefully, grabbing a fistful of hair to hold him in place. He'd had enough talking. Yoji was hard and shameless and he smelled like sweat and adrenaline. Aya had him trapped on the floor, legs spread wide and hips bucking up, already desperate for contact.

 

Never letting up on the kiss, Aya humped Yoji unabashedly for several minutes, until he forced himself to stop. Panting, he kneeled and unfastened his jeans with a shaking hand, pulling out his erection and giving it several sweet, gentle strokes, watching Yoji's face. His reaction was pleasing, but Aya couldn't go any further with that, either, or he was going to come. And that would feel so good -- really, really good -- but he had other needs to satisfy too.

 

Looking down, Aya noticed for the first time that Yoji was wearing sweatpants and knew a moment of pure gratitude. He yanked them down over Yoji's hips with one impatient tug and then, in a couple of fairly fluid movements -- given the circumstances -- Aya slipped his arms under Yoji's thighs and pulled them up and over his own shoulders, freeing one leg from the sweats as he went. Yoji was muttering something all the while -- Aya could only understand every few words, but it was filthy and obviously encouraging, so that was fine.

 

Aya glanced around to see if there was anything within reach he could use for lube and saw nothing suitable, which was unfortunate because Yoji didn't appreciate a rough ride. Then he remembered the lip balm in his jeans pocket. He'd never used lip balm for lube, but it seemed like a reasonable substitution, and beggars couldn't be choosers. He fished it out, wrestled it open, and frantically applied it to his dick. The amount of effort necessary to achieve full coverage was maddening, but the ultimate result was acceptable -- except that Yoji was now laughing hysterically, which wasn't what he had in mind at all.

 

“Shut up,” he growled, shoving himself inside with one thrust. Yoji howled, then lay there, silent but for the panting. Much better.

 

Aya couldn't really give him any time to adjust, but he did keep his thrusts shallow at first, barely moving his hips but making minute adjustments to hit Yoji's sweet spot. After he'd elicited a few low moans of pure pleasure, Aya figured he was free to proceed as he wished. And what he wished was to come. Now. He set a punishing pace, pounding all the harder when he noticed Yoji fisting his own cock to the same rhythm. So hot, God, Yoji was so fucking hot...

 

Aya wanted to keep watching Yoji, but his orgasm ripped through him and he lost track of everything else. He' had no idea how much time had passed when Yoji finally shoved him onto the floor. “Floor's no good,” Yoji murmured. “Bed.”

 

“Mmrhph?” Aya managed, opening his eyes slightly for orientation.

 

“Nap. Bed,” Yoji said. Then he smiled. “And you're fucking hot, too.”