Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Eine Sache des Vertrauens ❯ What can I do? ( Chapter 3 )

Eine Sache des Vertrauens
{A Matter of Trust}
Part 3
By Jacque Koh
Based on the fic "Fäden aus Mondlicht" by Chalcedony Cross
found at http://www.fanfiction.net/index.fic?action=story-read&storyid=279442

/"He needed stitches."/ The blonde man's words echoed in Youji's head as he was lead up the stairs towards Aya's room.

Unbidden, flashbacks of that horrifying nightmare sprang mercilessly at him again. Throughout the day, his mind had lingered on those mental pictures, making the images worse with each incarnation. The scenes of Farfarello raping Aya had over time merged with the hateful image of his doppelganger doing the same. When noon finally rolled around, it became difficult for Youji to tell the difference. As a matter of fact, he could no longer identify Farfarello in the flashback. Even when it wasn't his mirror image, the perpetrator resembled him.

/"He needed stitches."/

It was the longest day that Youji could ever remember experiencing. Omi and Ken had been considerate to the chestnut blonde in letting him hide in the storeroom while they dealt with the flood of orders coming in for their missing colleague. They didn't say very much to him. Letting him work up his own nerve to make the trip to the Crashers' safehouse to see Aya when he was ready.

/"He needed stitches."/

An image of his last memory of Aya occupied his thoughts again. Aya's eyes-- bloodshot lavender orbs, glittering with tears and an expression of betrayal; Aya's body-- trembling from pain and shock, almost luminescent white from the moonlight shining on him from the window, with ribbons of scarlet looking almost carelessly draped over his body and thighs; Aya's katana-- shaking and trained at him, warning him to stay away.

/"He needed stitches."/

In his preoccupation, Youji almost walked into the back of the blonde man when he stopped outside a room. His host frowned at him and was about to say something to Youji as he opened the door, but the sight that beheld them when they entered stole any thought of making a comment.

Flowers of all shapes and variety filled the room, surrounding them with their sweet uplifting fragrance. And amidst this explosion of colour and beauty, Aya lay asleep on the bed. The dying rays of the setting sun streamed past the lightly billowing curtains at the window to caress his lithe body. The beams seemed to cast a magical glow about him as glittering drops of moisture, that were sprayed on the flowers, caught the shafts of light and sparkled around his still form. His red hair appeared alive with flames in the rich golden radiance that embraced him.

"Beautiful. God, he's beautiful." Youji wasn't even aware he had voiced these thoughts until the blonde beside him shot him a look.

"There's a chair somewhere there." The man growled gruffly at him as he waved towards a location on the right of the bed. "I'll be right outside, Weiß. If I hear anything suspicious--"

"I'm not going to hurt him-- again. I swear, I won't." Youji assured him as he shuffled in the indicated direction and unearthed a chair from its flowery imprisonment.

Youji waited until he heard the click of the door shutting before he reached over to touch the pale hand that rested on the bed covers. He didn't have to wait very long before Aya's eyelids started to flutter open to gaze up at him. Youji had braced himself for it, but it still hurt to see the man flinch away him when his lavender eyes focussed enough to recognise him. Though Youji was not remotely gripping the hand with any strength, Aya had not drawn away. The redhead had made a slight movement, and he could have easily accomplished it if he wanted to, but he didn't effect the removal of his hand.

They stayed gazing at each other in silence for a long while. It wasn't the first time that Youji wished he could read Aya's mind. There were times when he really hated the redhead's penchant for silence. He didn't know how to deal with it. He longed for Aya to just tell him what he felt or wanted... Longed for him to stop trying to push them all away.

"What do you want, Youji?"

The question almost startled him. Making him unable to think for a moment as the silence between them was broken. "Sorry."

Aya jerked his face away from Youji at the word. He almost pulled his hand out of Youji's grip, but this time Youji held on fast, determined not to be ignored.

"Aya-- I-- I am sorry for what happened that night." Youji chewed on his lip as he stared at the back of Aya's head. "I was angry-- frustrated-- over that mission. And I took it out on you. I didn't think-- I'm sorry for what happened."

The pale figure still didn't look at him. "Aya-- I-- I'm asking-- I want to make it up to you. Please let me. Please-- tell me what I need to do. I-- don't want-- I-- Aya--?"

The silence stretched between them again. Youji lifted the hand to gently press his lips to it. He just waited. He was determined to sit there and wait for a response. He didn't have to wait as long as he initially thought.

"What do you want me to say, Youji?" Aya's words were almost too soft for him to catch. "I-- it-- after-- What do you want from me?"

"Aya-- this--" Youji sucked in a deep breath before he could continue. "What I want-- is-- is-- Aya-- What can I do for you? And don't tell me to go away and leave you alone, because I can't!

"I-- Kami-sama sometimes, you make me so-- fed up I wonder why I care at all-- But I do, Aya-- I do care."

A snort of disbelief escaped Aya's lips at that statement making Youji growl at the doubt shown. "You-- that night. All you wanted--"

Shame suffused Youji again at the thoughts he had had before Aya spoke. "I wasn't thinking Aya. I wanted-- I wanted to--"

"You wanted to break me--" The deep voice intoned mercilessly. "Flaunt your control of the situation. I-- didn't realise you hated me that much."

"Aya-- It wasn't you... not exactly. But it-- It's still no excuse for wha--"

"It. Was. Not. Rape."

"Bull." Youji's temper rose at the denial that came from Aya's lips. "I tied you up for real *without* your consent. You agreed to play only under coercion. And-- it stopped being a game when-- when I ignored your use of the safe word. I broke the implicit trust we had in our games...

"Aya-- I'm sorry for letting that happen..."

"You've had an unusually profitable day." Manx observed as she glanced at the almost denuded displays in surprise when she walked into the Koneko no Sumu Ie just before closing time.

Ken gave her a wry grin as he sat at the till to count the takings. "Our new recruit was more popular than we imagined. As soon as the girls heard that he was-- sick... well most of the arrangements we made today went to him."

Manx put her hands on her hips and turned to glare at Omi. "You hacked into the Kritiker database again?!"

Omi nonchalantly continued to sweep the floor. "Weiß takes care of its own, Manx-kun. We, of course, wanted to check that Aya-kun was all right ourselves."

"Oh? Is Aya returning to Weiß then?"

Both men were silent at this. "He--" Omi sighed deeply before he continued. "He hasn't said yet."

"Youji's just left to see him."

"I see." Manx studied the tensed figures trying to relax again before her. Remembering the wire marks that Knight had shown her, she could guess that the meeting that was taking place right now probably wasn't very pleasant. After the discussion she had had with Crashers the previous day, she knew he wasn't exactly the team's favourite person right now. But even with what she knew, Manx did sincerely hope that Youji made it out alive.

Youji sat quietly waiting. They had lapsed into a long silence once more with Youji's last words to him. He wished that Aya would speak or even look at him again. Not knowing what else he could say, the chestnut blonde had little desire to break the silence.

"Do you hate me?" The question was so quiet Youji almost missed hearing it. He startled at the revelation he was making with this encounter. Previously, he would push hard to get Aya to talk to him, to try and get a response from him. But now, Youji realised that Aya was talking to him, possibly more than he had ever been able to get him to before. Was this how he had to treat Aya then? Use the silence to draw him out? He tucked that observation away in his mind as he focussed his attention on the question.

"I-- no, Aya. I don't hate you. You may frustrate me at times. Annoy me... Probably no more than I annoy you too. But I don't hate you."

Youji could sense the question that lay open between them. Why then? Why had he hurt Aya so cruelly? Was there even a reason?

"Was it just-- control issues?"

The snort escaped him before he could stop it. "You're talking like it's some sort of mission debriefing."

"And I need to understand!" Aya turned back to look at him now, his amethyst gaze reflecting his anger and confusion. "How-- Why I should trust you again?"

Youji couldn't meet his eyes. He stared down at where his hand was still holding Aya's. His thumb stroked the back of Aya's knuckles absently as he tried to think of a response. "Aya-- I-- What do I have to do? Please-- I-- I want-- to earn that trust again. What do I have to do?"

Aya's eyes unfocussed for a split second, and Youji could feel him trembling despite his best efforts to control his body's reactions. The chestnut blonde could only guess that Aya had a brief flashback. The redhead once more looked away, his voice shaky, "Why, Youji? I need to understand why?"

/"He needed stitches."/ The blonde's words echoed in Youji's mind again. The image of the rape smacked him between the eyes once more, forcing Youji to reflect on the violence he had met on the bound and helpless man. Why? He wasn't sure he understood what had happened himself.

Yuushi almost jumped out of his skin when a hand clamp down on his shoulder. Turning to look at the owner of the hand, he found himself staring up at an unsmiling Masato.

"You have to let go at some time, you know?"

"Wha--"

"Ran. You have to let him go." The older man firmly pulled Yuushi away from the door to Ran's room and steered him towards the living room. "Can't you understand it now? He was as much chafing at the bit to leave our 'protection' as he was to pursue his vengeance on Takatori."

"I don't get you." The blonde man glared his friend and lover as he was pushed towards a chair.

"We have too great a tendency to smother Ran with our attention. He can't deal with that." Masato pointed out as he took the seat facing Yuushi.

"We do not!"

The older man raised an eyebrow at him without comment. Yuushi flushed in guilt, he knew the man well enough to guess what Masato was thinking of. "Oh, come on. We have just cause to be worried about him, you know? He hasn't been able to hold down any solid foods since he arrived. He can't even handle plain water! It's a small mercy that he can drink tea and isotonic drinks, or he'd be dehydrated too."

"Yuushi, you don't have to rant to me. I *know*. But it still doesn't give us the right to fuss over him like he is an invalid."

"Isn't he--"

"Ran's too proud for that, and you know it." Masato pushed Yuushi back into his seat quite aware that the man probably hadn't realised that he was starting to stand. "He appreciates due consideration, but the man hates being babied, remember?"

"Yeah--" Yuushi had to concede that point. "He's stubborn like that."

"If he wants to go back to Weiß, we have to respect that, you know?"

"Why would he--?"

"Because that's his place. Like it or not, Yuushi, Weiß is what Ran needs."

"After what that bastard--"

"You let him in to see Ran. Wasn't there something that you saw in him to make you trust him?"

Yuushi cooled down as he thought about the encounter. "He regrets it."

"Yeah, I thought as much." Masato nodded in agreement. "I was across the hall when you brought him up and I could still feel that emotion radiating off him. What happened that night-- shouldn't have..."

"What guarantee do we have it won't happen again?"

"Yuushi, we can give him a second chance but watch him. If he ever-- so much as raise a bruise on Ran again... I promise you, we will step in." Masato locked eyes with his lover and friend, his expression showing his grim determination to keep his word. "But until that happens, we have to leave Ran to decide what he wants to do."

Aya tried desperately to push down his memories. With Youji in the same room as him, the flashbacks became especially hard to control.

It still stunned him to remember the course of that night. He had been caught totally by surprise to feel Youji drive himself into him dry, without giving a consideration to stretch him. The saliva slicked knife handle could hardly have counted. The pain had been unbearable. He thought that the other man was determined to split him in two. Youji hadn't even thought to wait, or let him adjust to having his member inside, but immediately started a ferocious rhythm of impalement and withdrawal. The tearing inside was not unexpected. But his blood offered a poor lubricant that made hardly a difference to the searing friction.

Aya had tried to endure, but the agony exploding in him proved to be too much. So he used the safe word. He broke down to cry it out at the man, but the punishment didn't stop. He had tried it again and again, desperate to end the torture. But Youji didn't stop. And before long the pain started to numb all his senses.

He lost track of time. Was hardly conscious of Youji's final thrust and subsequent withdrawal. Coming to minutes later, (or was it hours, he couldn't be sure) to find himself alone, still blindfolded, and bound to the grating. He had felt so battered and abused that a soft sob escaped him before he could catch it. The memory of the older man's threat to leave him hanging there for Ken to find, after he had had his way with him, brought forth a torrent of tears that he couldn't hold back. Youji hadn't carried out the threat, but for a span of minutes, Aya had actually believed that he would do that to him. And the sobs of pain and humiliation had come hitching from his chest out of control.

He couldn't stop thinking about it. Aya could feel the bile gather in his throat seeking to make him vomit once more, but he held it down. He had already emptied his stomach hours earlier with the last series of flashbacks before falling into an exhausted sleep. There was nothing left in his stomach to throw up. He was just so tired.

"Maybe--" Youji's voice intruded in his thoughts. In his preoccupation, he had almost forgotten that the man was still seated beside his bed with a hand over his. "Thinking about it now... It-- wasn't you, Aya. I-- you were a convenient target. I-- I was-- The mission-- you and Ken left me with the crucified kids-- to try and get them down. I couldn't-- I tried, but I couldn't. I couldn't-- I couldn't get the nails out-- I-- had to leave them-- hanging there.

"I needed-- wanted to-- wanted to hurt somebody for that-- for-- for what was done to those kids-- And you came back-- without Ken-- and you pushed me away-- when I-- when I just wanted to check that gash he gave you-- And I-- I lost it-- I turned all my anger and-- and frustration on you--

"It wasn't me-- it wasn't you-- I wasn't thinking that night, Aya. I didn't think. Didn't-- wasn't--"

Aya took a deep breath and let it out again before he turned to look at Youji. He looked into the emerald green eyes and found himself almost startled to see the stark fear residing there.

"I've never hurt-- or-- I'm not like-- Farfarello, Aya. I really am not-- I don't know what came over me."

/Farfarello?/ Confusion coloured his thoughts as to why Youji would mention the Schwartz Irishman. And in that moment he suddenly understood the connection that the older man had drawn. He could see that Youji was as frightened of himself for what he had done, as Aya had been of him.

Aya turned the hand that rested under Youji's upwards to hold his fingers gently. "Forget it, Youji." He wanted to put the events of that night out of his mind.

"I can't forget, Aya." Youji curled his fingers around Aya's and rubbed a thumb over his little finger. "I-- do you hate me?"

Aya studied the chestnut blonde sitting on the chair beside his bed. Despite what Youji had done to him... "No, I don''t hate you, Youji."

"But you don't trust me anymore."

The redhead closed his eyes, trying to block out the flashback. He swallowed hard, willing his roiling stomach not to send him into a convulsion of dry heaves. He felt too tired to want to do that right now.

"Aya-- I-- I don't think-- I can stand not having that trust."

"Bondage games?"

Ken squirmed, while Omi blushed at Manx's incredulous expression. The two had realised that they couldn't ignore Kritiker in the equation. Their sponsors had to be told what had happened after the mission, but they didn't have to know everything. They knew Manx and Birman were making suppositions on their own, but without supporting evidence, it wouldn't get into their reports. So Omi offered what he hoped was a snippet of truth that would make up a large enough smoke screen to the actual activities that night.

"Didn't think they had it in them, heh?" Ken chuckled even as he turned bright red at the thought.

"Youji and Aya? I knew-- I suspected they were-- that they-- bondage games?" Manx was floored. The two men could see a blush slowly colouring her cheeks. "Oh my--"

Inwardly, Omi had to bitterly consider how less 'fun' the whole idea had become for them, when they knew that a game had gone so horribly wrong for their friends. But for Kritiker, and Manx at the least, it sounded like a wicked, delicious notion that they'd blushingly cover up, and might even strike from their records as irrelevant to the mission.

Manx's face had become as crimson as her hair, making Omi wonder what kind of mental images she was conjuring for herself. He suddenly came up with a vision himself. Of his pale, stoic colleague, lying naked and handcuffed on Youji's bed... He could feel his face burning.

Omi shook himself out of the daydream to look at Ken. The man's face was equally red. But Omi could see a subtle tightness in the set of his jaw, which did not suggest to him that the brunette was having equally lecherous thoughts. Of all of the uninvolved parties, Ken was the only one to see the result of the game that night. And remembering the guilt and self-loathing Youji expressed to them that morning, Omi could guess that it wasn't pretty.

Hearing a cough, their attention turned back to Manx who was still trying to hide a fierce blush. The expression on her face though, had become harsh once more. "They had an-- 'incident' then? Did-- did Youji hurt Aya?"

"He--"

Omi's plans crushed into the dirt at Manx's following words. "I saw him, Omi. Crashers were-- they were very protective of Aya. As if-- as if-- They wouldn't say, but I got the impression that Aya was badly hurt."

"It-- it's none of our business, isn't it?" Ken told her quietly. "Youji's gone to talk with him. It's for them to resolve."

Manx opened her mouth to retort, but thought better of it. It was true. It would have to be Aya's decision whether or not he wanted to continue to work with Weiß, or with Youji for that matter. From the hopeful expectant vibes she was getting from the pair, she could guess that they had already come to an understanding with Youji and made their peace with Aya. Now they could only wait for Youji and Aya to reconcile, if that was possible.

"Manx-kun... about that report?"

She looked at Omi sympathetically. "If Aya comes back, I can strike it off the records. If he doesn't-- I'll-- I'll write it off as personality conflicts. I can do that much for him."

Omi nodded in thanks. He could guess that the 'him' she was referring to wasn't Youji. If Aya didn't come back... he wasn't sure how much longer Youji would be able to stand to remain in Weiß as well.

"He regrets it, Manx." Ken's soft words carried to them, drawing their attention to him. "I do feel that he genuinely regrets it."

"And I think we know Aya enough to understand his distrust of just words." Manx shook her head sadly as she turned to leave. "He has to prove it to Aya. And right now, do we even know how it's possible to make up for something like that?"

They stayed silent for a long time, at loss with what to do next. As far as Youji understood it, Aya was willing to forget about what happened between them that night. But forgiveness was-- he couldn't ask for it-- an act like that was beyond forgiveness. So what now? He felt disinclined to speak, and wasn't surprised that Aya felt likewise. The older man had to wonder how long they could wait like this.

Youji looked up and he felt his eyebrow twitch to find out that Aya had fallen asleep on him. A wry grin pulled on his lips to note the gentle rise and fall of the redhead's chest as he slumbered peacefully. He did notice that Aya had looked exhausted when he first entered the room. Youji could guess that it wasn't just the result of blood loss and the-- injuries. He very much doubted that Aya had been sleeping well. But he seemed to be all right at the moment. Youji didn't have many opportunities to watch Aya sleep. At the many times they had sex, Aya had always got up quickly after that, refusing to stay for a cuddle. It annoyed him. In truth, Youji would like nothing better than to have him stay and wake up beside him in the morning.

Looking at Aya now... Seeing how unguarded and serene he looked in his sleep... Youji wanted to kiss him. He wasn't even aware that he had been moving to do just that until Aya stirred at his proximity to mumble to him, "I'll taste of vomit." The younger man pulled back groggily and tried to turn his face away.

"And I was chain-smoking the whole day. I'll taste of nicotine and cigarettes." Youji gripped his chin to gently turn his face back. Gifting him with a weak shadow of his usual smirk, but a smirk nonetheless. "Which is worse?"

He leaned closer to press his closed lips against Aya's in a sweet, chaste kiss. To his delight, Youji felt the light suction that told him Aya was kissing him back. He lingered there, feeling his and Aya's breath mingle and ghost over their upper lips.

A trembling hand spread its fingers over his chest, prompting Youji to quickly break the kiss and lean back to look down at Aya. To his surprise, Youji found himself met with an expression of confusion, and not wariness or fear.

"Aya? Are you all right about this?"

Fingers curled over his shirt, making Youji wonder what kind of conflict Aya was going through in his mind. This was a different viewpoint with each other. Their previous encounters were always heated, passionate affairs. Sometimes-- most times bondage play where he would be the aggressor; Sex with rules and demands, and dominance theatrics. All ultimately empty posturing and meaningless efforts.

This felt different-- and good.

The fingers of Aya's hand sprayed out again and the hand against his chest became firmer. "No. No attachments."

/Attachments? Is that what Aya's been wanting to avoid all this time?/ "Why not?" Youji challenged him. "Why the hell not? The world's already sucked away any other normality and joy in our lives. Why aren't we allowed find comfort and affection when we can?"

"I've already lost one team, Youji." Aya gritted his teeth as he tried to look away.

"And you'll let it make you run from ever finding a connection with another person?" Youji turned his face back to make him meet his eyes. "Is-- is that why we play these games? Why you never want to stay with me once the sex is over?"

"It's just a form of stress relief."

"But it can be much more, Aya. It can mean something and be a lot more satisfying for both of us, if we stop playing games."

"I already lost one team!"

"And you think that you can avoid the hurt again by pushing everyone away? Have you ever wished that you'd never got to know the people on that team, or regret ever loving them?"

Aya looked down, his answer almost too soft for Youji to pick up. "No."

"Then stop pushing us away, Aya. Will you-- Will you let me--"

"It--" Aya's lavender eyes were lit in confused anger now. "You want me to give--"

"No." Youji caught on quickly. In their games, there had always been an element of force in them. That dangerous taste of fear and helplessness, that was both revolting and intoxicating. "Not willing submission, Aya. Your taking-- accepting what I want to give to you. There's no force in this. Equals, Aya. We'll be equals."

Aya stared at him silently.

"Aya, I don't want to play games anymore. You cannot trust-- After what happened, I can't trust myself with these games. I did something I never thought myself capable of, and I hurt you. I can't forgive myself for that." Youji told him softly as he took both of Aya's hands in his. "I've never-- I wasn't thinking. You were helpless and I used you. I vented my anger and frustration on you when you were unable to fight back. It-- made me no better than Farfarello. It made me no better than the monsters who crucified those children."

"What are you asking for, Youji?"

"That you let me-- the sex isn't important, Aya. No more games. I can't-- you shouldn't-- I just want you to let me--" He couldn't articulate it. The older man couldn't even be certain if Aya would let him use the word 'love' with him. Taking a deep breath, he took action instead. Moving slowly so that Aya could see what he was doing. Giving the redhead a chance to pull away if he really wanted to.

True to form, Aya had shown some slight resistance, but he wasn't seriously trying to draw away from him. Youji found that he could easily manoeuvre himself on the bed and carefully slide Aya onto his lap, mindful all the while of his injury. It felt so much easier and comfortable to be gentle.

Youji let one arm curl possessively around Aya's waist as the other slip over the redhead's thighs to help him properly seat the younger man against him. He could feel the tension leaving Aya's body muscle by muscle as he slowly relaxed after Youji tucked his head under his chin. It felt so good.

Unbidden, Youji experienced another flashback of the rape. It brought tears to his eyes to remember the cruelty he exhibited then, when what he really wanted was-- this. Having Aya resting in his arms... No meaningless theatrics... No use of mock force... No fear... Youji never wanted to play those games again.

"How long have they been talking?" Birman stirred her tea in agitation as she looked towards the stairs. Her mood was pretty much reflective of the people currently crowded into the living room of the Crashers' safehouse.

Manx, Birman and the other half of Weiß couldn't sit passively and wait any longer. So Crashers found themselves suddenly host to far more people than they had ever had before in their home.

"Can't we just--?" Ken started before Masato stared him down.

"Masato, be fair. It's been *hours*." Naru whined at him as he listlessly played with his teaspoon. "We could just listen at the door for a moment. Just check on them, you know?"

"There hasn't been any shouting or-- Well--" Yuushi started guiltily before pinking at Masato's glare. "I'm not being overprotective!"

Manx was on the cell phone with Persia, telling the man for the umpteenth time that they still didn't know what was happening. Reiichi's cat was again staring at her socks with fascination as she absently swung her foot in front of it with some small amusement. She didn't appear to mind that the little animal occasionally reaching out a paw to bat at her foot. Still, the owner of the cat kept one eye on his pet, while he distractedly broke a cookie that he had placed on his plate into tiny little pieces.

"It has been a rather long time." Reiichi sighed.

"This is ridiculous." Queen finally came to her feet and strode determinedly towards the stairs. "A quick listen *isn't* going to hurt."

Omi quickly gulped down his soda to empty the glass and hurried after her. Proffering the cup as they climbed the stairs.

Aya let himself be settled within the encirclement of Youji's arms. Allowing the taller man to lean his chin on his hair. He was almost surprise that he felt no fear and did not experience any flashbacks in the process. It was-- comforting.

He could sense a small part of his mind rebelling at this 'weakness', telling him that it was dangerous to accept this luxury. But he no longer cared to listen to the demanding voice that kept him solitary and lonely for the last six months. He was tired. And what Youji was offering did feel so much more fulfilling than empty passionate sex. If he thought about it, he didn't really mind doing just this with Youji, anymore than he minded Yuushi and Masato offering him the same security.

/Well-- just as long as Youji doesn't become an overprotective annoyance like the two men could be./ He hastily qualified that thought to himself.

He didn't need protection. He could stand on his own well enough. But it was-- restful to accept what Youji was offering. So why was he considering even fighting it? To escape the guilt that he felt to have this need? To deny the ache in him that missed the gentle warmth that he once shared with Yuushi and Masato?

Aya thought that pure games would keep him from 'wanting'. He thought he could convince himself that it was all about sex. And that he had enough with the games he played with Youji. But... it was empty. And sometimes, the games' only accomplishment was to make the ache in him feel worse.

With what Youji was now offering... It left him wondering why he would want to reject this easing of the hunger inside him. It felt-- comfortable. So long as he could trust Youji's offer, after what had happened--

A trickle of something wet seeped into his hair. Aya, with no small surprise, realised that it was tears. He didn't say anything to that. Instead, Aya moved an arm to rest it around the limb that hugged him about the waist. He felt Youji give him a brief tighter hug for his acceptance, but neither spoke. There was no need for words between them. Aya closed his eyes and allowed himself to rest in the warm embrace. He still wasn't quite sure what this new status quo would mean for them, but for now this was enough.

"Well?" Masato whispered to Queen as she leaned on the cup against the door. "What's happening inside?"

Yuushi held down his snort of laughter at Masato's insistent question. For someone who a moment ago was so determined to give Youji and Ran some privacy, he certainly changed his tune quickly once Queen lead the procession to the guestroom's door.

"Nothing. They aren't saying anything." Queen was frowning as she strained to listen.

"Let me try." Omi quickly switched positions with the reluctant woman and pressed his ear against the back of the cup. "I can't hear anything."

"What's going on in there?" Ken whispered urgently from behind the crowd.

"Oh for-- Why don't we just knock?" Birman was getting impatient as she glared at the crowd. "They're trained assassins, they must know there's a whole crowd of us outside the door by now."

"Point." Reiichi stood upright and turned to Omi. "Would you like the honours?"

Omi's eyes widened slightly, but curiosity couldn't make him wait any longer. He raised his knuckles to knock lightly on the door. "Aya-kun? Youji-kun? Is everything all right in there?"

Yuushi slapped his hand over his eyes. "They're not going to hear that, if you're talking so softly. R--"

Masato's hand had clamped over Yuushi's mouth before he could raise his voice in a shout. He gave Yuushi a side long glare before whispering to the Weiß blonde. "You knocked. Just open it carefully and take a peek."

As a group, they jumped to hear the loud click of the lock as Omi twisted the doorknob. Still hearing nothing discouraging from within, the young blonde carefully pushed the door open and peered around the edge.

"Awww."

"What? What?" Naru was fairly bouncing behind them right now.

"This is so-- I'm going to push the door open. It looks like they've fallen asleep."

A wave of freshly scent flowers wafted over them as the door opened wider and an almost magical sight soon greeted the crowd. Moonlight shone into the room past lightly billowing curtains to undulate upon the moisture spackled petals of flowers and bouquets surrounding the bed. In their sparkling midst, lay a fast asleep Youji, back leaning against the headboard, with his arms curled protectively and possessively around the waist and thighs of an equally slumbering redhead. The younger man was himself seated in the man's lap, snuggled against his chest, with an arm resting lightly over the limb that was around his waist.

No one in the crowd felt a need to break the poignant silence that fell over them. Carefully closing the door again, the group turned to tiptoe down the stairs ready to disperse for the night.

"You think--" Yuushi swallowed hard against the tears that threatened to well up in his eyes at the memory of that sweet scene. "Do you think that Ran's finally found his someone?"

"We'll have to wait and see, won't we?" Masato's arms slipped around his lover's waist as they stood at the head of the stairs and stared back towards the door of Ran's room. "They do look contented together."

"Just no more games between them, I guess."

"They don't need any."