Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Everything But the Kitchen Sink ❯ Everything But the Kitchen Sink ( Prologue )

EVERYTHING BUT THE KITCHEN SINK

A Little Weiss Kreuz PWP

By Sailor Mac

Omi entered the darkened apartment and immediately reached for the light switch. He wasn't familiar enough with this place to wander around in the dark yet. After all, they'd only been there a week.

He carried his bag into the kitchen, putting it down on the light wood table, then returned to the living room to hang up his coat. The place had a rather generic look to it . . . furniture which could have been seen in any hotel room, a couple of paintings of snow and country scenes on the walls. It looked like what it was, a temporary home. After all, Kritiker had only leased it for a few months . . . as long as they were expected to stay in this town.

Omi didn't care. It was a place for him and Ken to stay, together, without the constant presence of the others.

He went back into the kitchen and quickly started unpacking his bag, putting the packages of meat and vegetables on the counter. It was his night to cook. Ken was closing up the flower trailer tonight. He liked cooking for him . . . it gave him a sense of having a *normal* life.

I hope that someday, they'll settle us down in one place again, Omi thought as he began chopping carrots and celery for the salad. I'm starting to get used to the trailer, but . . . it doesn't feel like *home*.

Plus, there was the fact that their first few months there had been a nightmare for their love life . . . attempts to sneak around followed by a succession of hotels where they could spend one or two nights at a time.

Kritiker must have gotten tired of us complaining, he thought as he started tearing up the lettuce. Or, rather, Kritiker must have gotten tired of the *other two* complaining.

This place was small . . . the living room, the bedroom, the kitchen and a bathroom . . . but it was all they needed. Most days, they only spent the evenings there. If they had a mission, they literally just used it to sleep.

But it was a place where they could have a quiet dinner together and stretch out on the couch watching TV, without fighting over anyone else for the remote. Or play video games until the wee small hours without worrying about waking anyone up.

Or make love whenever they wanted, wherever they wanted, and as loudly as they wanted.

We have our *lives* back, Omi thought, putting his salad together. And that's all I care about for now.

* * *

Ken walked in the door of the apartment rubbing the back of his neck.

What a day it had been. Not only was there the usual mob scene of girls . . . Kritiker had to be posting coming attractions posters before they arrived in each place, there was no other way they all could have found them so fast . . . but they also had a hassle with an inspector who thought they were operating without permits and licenses.

Ken had to laugh. Permits and licenses . . . if only that cop knew what was *really* being run out of that florist trailer. And if the cops gave a damn about criminals . . . as opposed to harassing flower sellers . . . there'd be no need for Weiss in the first place.

He needed to relax, that was for sure. He needed to cut loose. He needed *something*.

As soon as he walked in the kitchen, he knew what that something was.

There was Omi, bent over to get something out of the cabinet, his perfect little butt turned toward Ken. That butt shifted a little as Omi turned this way and that, looking for something.

Ken could think of a *lot* of things to do with that butt. It didn't help that his shorts were drawn taut over the cleft between his cheeks . . . all Ken could think of was that tight heat encasing him, drawing him in . . .

He approached the boy slowly. He's cooking dinner, he thought. But . . . nothing says we can't have dinner later, right?

Omi gasped and shot straight upright as he felt the hands grab his bottom. He whirled around, eyes blazing. "Ken-kun! You scared me!"

"Ken-*kun*? You're being formal," Ken said, leaning over to nuzzle Omi's neck.

Omi pulled back a little. "Well, startling someone when he's trying to make dinner isn't very romantic."

"Oh? Maybe this is more romantic." Ken pulled the younger boy into his arms, crushing their mouths together. Omi tensed at first . . . then responded, pushing his tongue eagerly toward Ken's.

Ken wrapped his arms even tighter around Omi, opening his mouth, rubbing his tongue softly against his lover's. One hand came up to run through the boy's hair, tangling his fingers in the yards of golden silk as his lips and tongue caressed Omi's. When he nipped lightly at Omi's lower lip, he got a noise somewhere between a yelp and a moan in response.

He began to lay a trail of kisses across his face, brushing his lips over and over on the soft, soft skin, toward his ear. He took the lobe between his teeth and bit ever so lightly and gently, causing Omi to start breathing heavily, eyelids half-closed, face flushed.

"Ken," he gasped, "I . . . I have to cook dinner . . ."

"What's the rush?" Ken whispered, licking at the tiny hole in Omi's ear. "I see a lot of things I'd rather eat right now than food."

Omi let out a small moan, but regained some composure. Taking a deep breath, he reached up and caressed Ken's hair. "Oh? Like what?"

"Want me to show you?" Ken said.

Omi took a deep breath and moved away from Ken . . . enough for the older boy to see his lover had an erection already. He smiled and ran a hand slowly down Omi's body. "Now . . . I see you want me to show you . . ." He cupped his hand over the bulge in Omi's pants. " . . . by this."

Omi let out a small cry, thrusting his hips forward, pushing his erection further toward Ken. "Hmm, you really want it," Ken said. "All right . . . " He unsnapped the shorts and began to ease the zipper down. "You'll have to take off your clothes, though."

Omi gave Ken a sweet smile . . . but one that had the promise of mischief, as well. He reached for Ken's pants, unsnapping them and yanking down the zipper in one rapid motion.

"Only if you take yours off, too," Omi said, winking at Ken.

"Oooh, I like that idea," Ken said, as he reached for Omi's shirt. Garment after garment fell to the floor, until both were naked.

Ken pulled Omi into his arms again, mouths colliding, tongues caressing. He pulled back and kissed his neck.

"Now," he said, "the fun *really* begins."

Omi giggled a little. "What kind of fun do you mean?"

"Hmm . . . well, let's just say that . . . I were to do . . . THIS!" He picked his lover up in his arms and plunked him down so he was sitting atop the counter. Pushing the boy's legs apart, he leaned over, his tongue snaking out to brush, ever so lightly, over Omi's stomach. Omi shuddered a little, leaning toward him.

Ken lay a few kisses over the flat belly, moving upward. "You like that?"

"Yes," Omi whispered, thinking . . . is he going to do next what I think he's going to . . . what I hope he's going to?

As if in response to Omi's unspoken question, Ken suddenly captured a nipple in his mouth, sucking it gently as his fingers began to lightly brush over the boy's erection. Omi leaned back, one hand grasping the curtain behind him as he started to writhe, which grew faster as Ken circled his tongue over the nipple slowly.

"More," Omi gasped. "Please . . ."

"More?" Ken said, raising his head. "Do you mean more of this . . ." He moved his mouth to the other nipple and caught it in his mouth rapidly, sucking firmly. Omi cried out.

"Or . . . more of this?" His hand began stroking Omi's erection in a quick up-and-down motion, and Omi let out a small wail.

"Looks like you want more of both," Ken said, sliding down Omi's body as he dropped to his knees. "I guess I'll just have to do . . . this . . ."

He began to slowly run his tongue up and down Omi's hardness, his fingers sliding up his body until they encountered his nipples, which he caressed gently, making quick, tight circles. Omi moaned, grasping the curtains again, raising his hips off the counter in a mute plea to take him in, suck him, give him everything . .

But Ken had other ideas. He licked downward instead, moving down to the sac beneath his manhood. He slid his tongue over it, up and down, then in circles. When he took it in his lips and sucked very, very gently, Omi nearly screamed.

"P-p-please, Ken!" he cried out. "I want you to . . . to . . ."

Ken raised his head. "What do you want, Angel?"

"I want your mouth . . . I want to be inside your mouth . . ."

Ken gently lifted Omi off the counter and set him on his feet, and Omi whimpered in disappointment.

"Why don't you show me what you want?" Ken said. "Do it to me."

Omi smiled, a mischievous gleam in his eye. "You have to get on the counter like I was."

Ken hopped up, opening his legs a bit. "All right . . ."

Omi dropped to his knees, slowly kissing along Ken's length. No matter how many times they made love, he still felt a hot thrill inside him whenever he touched Ken's erection with his hands, his mouth. He opened his lips and took in the head, sucking rapidly, moving in and out as his fingers moved up his body to his nipples, as Ken had done to him.

"Ahh," Ken gasped as he felt the suction, the heat and wetness, the tingling caresses at his nipples. He raised his hips, pushing himself deeper into Omi's mouth, and cried out again as Omi began to suck faster in response, taking him in more and more each time.

"Angel . . ." Ken cried, grasping the curtains as Omi had, his head starting to toss back and forth. Omi knew *just* how to do this, where the sensitive spots were that would make Ken moan if flicked with a tongue, how much speed he needed, how much pressure. He knew if Omi kept this up, he wasn't going to last much longer. And he wanted to last. He didn't want to come until he was inside that sweet, perfect ass of his.

Omi must have sensed this, because he slid Ken out of his mouth, moving up to kiss his nipples, flicking his tongue over them. "You're so sexy," the younger boy murmured.

"So are you," Ken panted, kissing the top of his head. "Gods, Angel . . . I want to take you . . ."

"I want you to," Omi whispered. He pulled away, and a broad smile crossed his face. "But first . . ."

"First . . . what?" Ken said, frowning a little.

Omi reached into one of the cabinets. "Stand up," he said.

Ken did as Omi requested, feeling puzzled. What was his lover planning now? For someone who looked so innocent, Omi could come up with some real surprises during lovemaking sometimes.

Omi snuck up behind Ken, a bottle of something in his hand . . . and suddenly, Ken felt something pouring over his chest, stomach, onto his manhood . . .

"What the . . ." He looked down. "Salad oil?"

"Mmm hmm," Omi said, pouring some of the oil down his own back. "Watch . . ."

He leaned back against Ken, so his back was molded against Ken's chest, the cheeks of his bottom cupping Ken's erection. He began to move his hips, sliding his body up and down, then left and right, a sort of standing-up lap dance.

And the feeling with the oil . . . soft, slick, creating a type of friction that was pure heat, pure sensation. Ken could feel every inch of Omi against him, and it all seemed to be searing his own skin.

He began to move his own body, rotating his hips in slow circles, his manhood pushing into Omi's cleft just enough to tantalize him . . . the firm, hot flesh encasing him, rubbing against him, making him crave what was just beyond him, that hot, tight sheath that he knew was certain ecstasy.

But Omi eased away from him, twirling away, grabbing the oil bottle and pouring it down Ken's back. He then pushed his body against Ken's again, but back to back, the curves of one bottom sliding against the other.

This was a whole new sensation, firm, rounded, sensitive flesh pressing together . . . Omi began to shift his hips, as he did before, and there was a new, thrilling tingle as he felt the curve of Ken's bottom, subtly different from his own, rubbing his own skin, generating incredible heat . . .

As Ken thrust back against Omi, wild fantasies filled his head of the two of them having a double-headed dildo, both of them thrusting back against it, feeling it penetrate, move around inside them . . . He leaned his head back against Omi's, grinding his hips, moaning and panting as he imagined Omi thrusting back against the toy, riding it as Ken was riding it from the other side . . .

Gods, now he *needed* to be inside Omi. He pulled apart from his lover, grasped his shoulders, spun him around and pushed him over so that he was bent over, his hands on the table. Omi gasped, knowing what was coming.

Ken fumbled around on the floor for Omi's discarded pants. He knew his lover always kept a couple of condoms and a small tube of lubricant with him . . . for occasions just like this one. Finding them, he couldn't get himself ready fast enough.

Omi moved his legs further apart, pushing his bottom upward, anxious to feel the penetration . . . and when Ken's finger invaded him, slick with chilly lube, he didn't even mind the initial pain, he just wanted to be *filled*. He thrust his hips back against Ken, moving back and forth as the finger slid in and out.

When the finger slid out, then went back in along with a second, Omi was moaning loudly, thinking, I'm *open* already Ken-kun, I don't want to wait any longer, please, please put it inside me . . .

Ken grasped Omi's bottom and pushed between his cheeks, pausing right at his opening. "Ready, Angel?"

"Yes!" Omi cried. "Yes, do it!"

Ken pushed forward, and Omi gritted his teeth as the familiar pain came, but he gladly endured it because he knew what was coming next . . . And as the pleasure washed over him, radiating from his passage all over his body, he almost sobbed with joy. He pushed backward, wanting more, more . . .

Ken groaned as he was encased in Omi's tight heat. Oh, yes, this is what he wanted, had wanted all night! He paused to give the boy a moment to get used to being penetrated . . . then, he began a slow thrust, oh, yes, so good, sooo gooood . . .

As Omi felt Ken's hands grasp his bottom, his manhood moving in and out faster and faster, he leaned back his head, letting out a long, low, throaty noise. In, filling him, out, sliding against his passage, making one wave of tingly sensation after another pulse through his veins. . .

"Yeah," Ken groaned. "You feel so good, you look so sexy . . . that's it, moan for me, baby, let me know how good it feels . . ."

"Ken!" Omi cried, thrusting faster against him, and then Ken was picking up the pace, driving so deep and so hard inside him Omi thought his head would pop right off his body, but oh gods, he didn't mind, because it felt so good, so very very good . . .

Ken drove into Omi, thinking he was going to explode, oh, he wanted nothing more than to come, but at the same time he didn't want it . . . he wanted to be buried inside of Omi forever . . .

And then, time seemed to stand still for both of them, reality freezing in place as they felt like they were trembling at the edge of the universe . . .

Omi was the first to let out a wail as the wave of sensation crashed over him, and he was flooded with pulses of hot ecstasy. As his passage squeezed Ken, he felt himself going over the edge as well, and he cried out as electric heat shot through him over and over.

Both of them sagged over, panting, Omi face-first against the table, Ken on top of him, as reality slowly faded back into place around the lovers. Omi turned his head, and they kissed, tenderly.

"I love you," Omi said, snuggling back against Ken.

"I love you too, Angel."

They stood up, slowly, and Omi looked around . . .

"Oh, no!" he said. "The meat . . . I didn't put it in the fridge . . . and it might be spoiled by now . . ." He rushed over to it, and slipped on a patch of oil on the floor, nearly falling down. Ken caught him just in time.

"Tell you what," he said. "Let's clean this up . . . if the meat's still okay, we'll put it in the fridge, so we can have it tomorrow night . . . and call for a pizza. Then after that . . ."

"Dessert?" Omi said, wrapping his arms around Ken. "In the bedroom?"

"Well, I *do* still owe you a blow job," Ken said, kissing Omi's forehead.

Omi blushed at that . . . but his eyes were sparkling, as well. "Okay, you're on!"

Ken smiled as he watched Omi enthusiastically go to work at the spots of oil on the floor. Oh, yes, it was definitely worth making this mess to have had this experience. And they were going to have more *experiences* before the night was through.

After all, they only had this apartment for a short time, and they had to take full advantage of it, right?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is just a pure PWP I did for my friend Lady Cosmos' birthday, and I decided to post it here. It's a sequel to my fic Vereitelung, where Ken and Omi were having problems finding privacy during the period where Weiss was living in the trailer.

Weiss Kreuz is owned by Koyasu Takehito and Project Weiss. These characters ain't mine, I'm just borrowing them for a little while.