Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Falling to Pieces ❯ Chapter Six ( Chapter 6 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Dark Hunter 
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Suspense / Romance / Occult / Hentai / Drama / Comedy / Angst / Action | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 05.05.2003 | Pages: 5 | Words: 7.2K | Visits: 428 | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Suspense / Romance / Occult / Hentai / Drama / Comedy / Angst / Action | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 05.05.2003 | Pages: 5 | Words: 7.2K | Visits: 428 | Status: Work In Progress
Well, that last chapter was disturbing, and occasionally a tad OOC, not to mention deranged, but that's okay! It was interesting, no? -laughs- See! You're still reading! NYAH!
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I don't sleep much, staying up thinking. Aya has a sister. No. Ran has a sister. Her name is Aya. Hells, I certainly didn't see that coming, did I? I watch his sleeping profile, trying to puzzle out a lot of things. Why hadn't he ever mentioned her?
He sighs in his sleep, eyelashes fluttering for a second. What else does he have to hide? What do I really know about him then? He has a sibling. Does he have others? Where are his parents? Why is he here instead of with them? Why is the girl, Aya, in a coma?
I curl up under the blankets, exhausted beyond comprehension, yet unable to sleep for the wondering. I almost wish he hadn't told me.
His eyes are open. When did he wake up?
"Are you going to sleep soon? Or are you going to keep twitching about for a few more hours?" He growls at me. Why do I find it reassuring when he gets angry with me? Maybe because it's the one thing I can expect from him and not be let down on.
"I'm sorry." I'm unsure of what else to say, holding back a barrage of inquiries.
"Don't be sorry, just stop it." He crosses his arms behind his head, under the pillow. I rub at the gathering ache behind my eyes. Is this what it feels like to be old? Body a constant aching mass of unpleasantries?
"Why is it you're physically incapable of holding still??" He snaps, sitting up, in full Aya-rage pissed-off mode, eyes raw and tired behind the almost superficial anger. He needs sleep more than he needs to want to smother me with a pillow, going through for show now.
"You want a list of noteworthy complaints? My head hurts and I can't sleep, all right. Ever inch of me screams agony in a million different colors. I keep thinking I see people coming through the walls at me, and you're playing Mr. Enigmatic again. I'm trying to hold still. It's not my fault the rest of my entire body hurts no matter how I'm lying." I decide to go ahead and air my grievances, bed sharing or no. If he kicks me out, I'll just sleep on the floor in the hallway, nowhere else to go, and I couldn't possibly be more uncomfortable by this point, could I?
"Why the hell are you complaining still?" It comes out as a roar, as he hurls his pillow at the lamp, smashing ceramic against wooden floors. Down the hallway, I can hear thumps from Omi's room and Ken's as well, as bare feet hit the bare, cool floors. "If you hadn't taken to following me around, invading my privacy, none of this would have happened. If you would just get out of my business and stay away from me, none of this would have happened." In a fit of rage he throws my pillow at the wall for good measure. "I don't know whether to accuse you or myself of being the one who destroys everything they touch."
I flinch back from his rage, no longer just a farce, jumping further when Omi and Ken come barreling into the room.
"What's going on?" Ken demands, eyes wide, trying to feign an air of awareness he doesn't possess yet. His hair is rumple from sleeping, claws strapped on and ready for business, both of them jumpy as hell. Neither Omi nor Ken appear overly startled to find me wrapped up in the blankets from Aya's bed, though from the angry looks they're both shooting Aya, they're thinking he shouldn't be berating me so soon after my return.
"It doesn't concern you." Aya tersely informs them. The light from the hall beautifully lights his amethyst eyes, turning him into some sort of holy vengeful demon. I stare with amazed eyes, seeing him in a altered light for the full ten seconds it takes for the door to swing shut under it's own power.
Ken stands behind me, no doubt glaring daggers at our violent red headed teammate all the while. Aya glowers back, no longer unearthly, just frighteningly angry.
"This doesn't concern you in the slightest bit." He reiterates.
"Yes, this does concern me. If your attitude it detrimental to Youji's health then it does concern me very much so." Aya meets him with glittering ice chip eyes. I certainly would feel a twinge of uncertainly for MY life if I had those eyes trained on me, and why the hell is Ken trying to defend me now? What have I missed here?
"You worried I'm going to break a few more of his ribs, throw him into a wall?" His eyes are narrowed, furious slits. "This is a matter between the two of us and we're settling it as such."
Omi tugs on Ken's sleeve, acknowledging Aya's explanation. I'm unsure whether to be relieved or worried. "Ken. Come on."
"One piece. He better be in one undamaged piece tomorrow morning." Ken fiercely hisses. I don't need him to protect me. I wave in his direction. He gives in to Omi's insistences that he leave the room.
Aya fixes his untamed rage back on me once the door is securely closed. "Why are you bitching at me? I did the best I could. I took care of you when you showed up again. It's not my fucking fault you're a useless failure, that you can't manage to do anything correctly." The words come unendingly, a damn finally unstopped. "If YOU would just keep to your own business and stay out of mine, everything would be fine. If you would just get over whatever it is that's affecting your attitude, I wouldn't have had to get involved in the first place. Every time I turn around all I see is you fucking up yourself again, purposefully injuring yourself or letting others do the work for you. What the hell are you bitching at me about?"
I unsteadily clamber to my feet, shedding blankets.
"What are you doing now?" Aya hisses impatiently.
Without replying, I push through the door, knocking over two eavesdropping assassins in the process.
"Youji? What's going on?" "Are you okay?" They burst out simultaneously. I don't reply, trying to stomp, but only succeeding in reeling, down the hall. Back to my room. He's right. I'm useless, can't do anything right, I should have died, he should have killed me. I deserve to suffer in fear, waiting for reasoning to return in this horrid pale place.
I run his words through my head as I just manage to keep from throwing myself down on my mattress, knowing that action would leave me in agony. I ease down, crouching on the edge. 'If you would just get over whatever it is that's affecting your attitude, I wouldn't have had to get involved in the first place.'
So why did he then? Was it some sort of fucking joke to him? I thought maybe after all this time we'd spent watching each other's backs and sharing the dark secret of Weiss, perhaps he'd feel something other than disdain or indifference for me. Don't I deserve friendship? A bit of grudging respect? I don't need him toying with my emotions.
Hushed whispers outside my door. I stumble back to lock my door, wondering if I'll pass out as everything swims in and out of focus. I can't win, can I? Just when I think something good is happening, it goes wrong, or never reaches a plateau that could be described as even tolerable to begin with.
I curl up, ignoring the pain, ignoring everything, fists to my eyes, trying to forget about those damned blaring white walls, to forget about why it is my whole body hurts, forget about why there's that tightening of my chest.
All thoughts of sleep are gone, replaced by self-loathing and that irrational desire to give up and abandon life. Painkillers would help. Lots and lots of them. Enough to ease the pain of my body, and ease the motions of my heart. If Aya put them back in the bathroom though, I'm out of luck. I'm not leaving this room.
Someone tries the doorknob, repeatedly. Bangs on the wooden barrier they've come up against. I ignore it. The door slams open, the old lock tearing through the wall. Aya. Panic now. He's going to kill me. That's what I want, but not like this. I don't want to die like this, the victim of another senseless beating. No more pain. I should die, for the cringing coward I've become.
"Aya! Stop it." Behind him, meaningless phrases. I don't' remove the fists from my eyes. The door slams shut, the heavy scrapes of furniture being dragged in front of the door. Oh gods, he's barricading himself in here with me.
My own mattress dips down in front of me. I won't open my eyes. It won't be Aya or Stone-Face, just this blending of the two, an indescribable, horrible monstrosity, bent on causing pain and terror.
Hands catch hold of my own fisted ones, pulling them away from my eyes. I don't want to see. Don't want to hurt. Nothing, no blows, no yelling, no sound, no nothing. Just fingers wrapped around my own, silence. I cautiously open one eye, expecting blinding light, Waxen dark features, black hair.
Moonlight, blood red hair, features cast into perfect shadow. "Youji, I-" He stops, the words strained to breaking. He curves his body forward, his face inches from mine as he focuses on my face.
"Listen. I shouldn't have said that." His eyes dip shut. "There's a reason I don't talk much, I shouldn't have-" he sighs, as if the admission tears at the fiber of his being. I know it does. Any form of apologizing grains against his stiff pride.
I don't reply. I won't fall into his trap. I've done that already. Pretending he actually gave a fuck whether or not I lived or died. Making me eat when I wouldn't, saving my life when I wanted to be killed. Some sort of amusing game for him. I lower my eyelids and snatch my hands back.
He makes a noise in his throat. Mad about this then? Showing his true colors?
"Why don't you trust me?"
I keep silent. I wonder if there's anyone left out there who doesn't harbor some secret design with the ultimate goal of fucking me over?
"I don't have any goals like that." Aya informs me candidly.
Shit. Did I say that out loud? I hadn't meant to. Have trouble trying to keep my mouth from speeding ahead of my mind. I cautiously straighten up, hesitant, but a bit surer he's not going to kill me or hurt me, not immediately, at least.
Ken's pounding desperately on the door and yelling, but the heavy dresser somewhat muffles the noise. I look back to Aya.
"What is it that you want from me then. It seems like no matter what I do someone is always out to get me, or use me for something, or abandon in return for something better. It's just too much sometimes, you know?" My shoulders slump tiredly. "I can't trust you. I can't trust anyone. What am I supposed to do?"
"Why don't you trust me?" He repeats.
"Why should I? From day one you've only criticized me and complained about various ingrained portions of my personality. Then out of the blue you suddenly turn around and start buddying up to me in your own resentful, harsh way. All I can think is that you want something from me. You MUST want something from me. I can't think what. I don't have anything left."
"Youji, are you okay? Aya, you fucking son of a bitch, have you finally lost your mind?" Ken's freaking out, for lack of a better phrase. There's anger and worry and fear wrapped up in his shouts.
Aya's fingertips brush my jaw, turning my face back in his direction. "I have no ill will towards you. You are my teammate, I'd almost say friend. I trust you, and would hope you'd do me the same courtesy. I have never wronged you in any way. I have only your good will in mind," he earnestly states.
I shrug and look down, the possibility of being lied to and manipulated yet again too much to think around. He grasps my hands again. "Please. Trust me. Have I ever faulted you?" Soft, trying to win me over. He clasps my hands in his again. I feel trapped but don't break away. Fine, he wants to play it this way. I won't cooperate, but I won't stubbornly resist either.
He tilts his head downwards; trying to make me lift my head up, make me meet his eyes. I lean forward, my forehead coming to rest against his chest, tired beyond all words, all thoughts. His arms circle around me, an odd sensation after so long without contact, without pain. My mind flashes back to the bathtub, how he just sat with me until I calmed down, stayed in the water with me, soaking clothes and all. That's not something you'd waste your time on for something too trivial, right? Or is it? With Aya, I've never understood.
Slow soothing hands stroke my hair, remembering not to touch my back or the sore spot on the back of my skull. I close my eyes, turning Ken's upset squalling into white noise. Peace.
"Are you alright?"
"No." I blithely answer, not concerned at all. If he'd be quiet then all would be well. I almost want to cry, but my eyes are desert dry. This is one of those instances where deliberately caused pain produces sensations beyond exquisite when finally stopped, basking in the wave of abating tension, of relief. Real human touch after so long without. Next I should try banging my head against a wall so it feels marvelous when I stop. Same principal.
His arms release me. I try not to cling. Now he's going to open the door and show Ken the still undamaged me. Well, not undamaged, just not worse-off me. And then he'll go back to his room and I'll be in here. I look dreamily at those pale walls, glaring in the dark. Maybe instead of dying, I can just stay in here forever, punished by the things I failed to deter, the thoughts I can't quite cancel out.
With a heave he pushes the heavy dresser back from the door, the huge mirror wobbling but never falling over. I watch the mirror for reflections from things not actually in the room with us, but none appear. What a relief. Six hundred horror movies later, and I still wouldn't know what to do.
Ken burst in, slamming Aya back, hurling verbal obscenities at him, that good old self-righteous rage flaring in his eyes. You've got to admire the kid. He's got panache when it comes to almost embarrassing fits of emotion.
He slams Aya backwards when he sees me, kneeling down next to me. "Youji? Are you alright? Are you okay? What the hell is going on?"
I look numbly back at him and shake my head, not sure what he's asking.
Ken examines my face, attention darting from me back to Aya and then back to me again. I jerk away from his prodding fingers, forcing my mind to push aside a few layers of haze, forcing my tongue to work, my mouth to open.
"I'm fine. Aya and I just had to finish with a discussion." I'm almost shocked by how flat the words sound. I don't know. Maybe I have no reason to be paranoid. Perhaps I'm just looking for problems and deceit where they don't exist, too used to seeing that in all past experiences.
Ken shifts so he's crouching comfortably. "Are you alright Youji?"
"Yeah, I said I was, didn't I?"
"I'm not talking about whatever it is you and Aya are fighting about. I'm talking, 'are you okay' in general? I don't know all of what happened to you, what you were told, but I do know you came back soaked in your own blood and half dead, you still look like shit, no surprise, you've only been back for two days."
This gives me a pause. Two days since I left that place? How long have I slept then? Total hours, that is. I stop paying attention to Ken as I try to puzzle that out. How long have I been dead to the world? How many days have I not been here?
"How long have I been gone?"
"You're going to have to clarify." Omi pipes up.
"How long was I not here? How long ago was the job at the Towers? How many days passed while I was gone?"
"Weeks." Omi gently corrects. "You've been gone for over two weeks. Didn't you know that?"
"Silly me. I should have been keeping track on the Cuddly Kittens calendar they left in my cell," I snap back. Over two weeks. How could I lose that much time and not know it?
I stumble to my feet, whirling around, hall light shining on the pale walls, too many people in the room. Crowded.
"I'm going to go sleep downstairs, on the couch. Just leave me alone." I haphazardly push past all living bodies in my way, thumping painfully down the stairs, head ringing with every heavy-heeled footstep.
Why bother killing myself. Life itself will take care of that on its own some time soon.
I curl up in a shivering, aching ball, trying to shut out the world without the benefit of sanity, or even a pillow or blanket. That pretty much sums up my life. Me, myself and I, weathering the elements and taking things as best we can. Aya, thankfully, doesn't follow me, trying to play nursemaid. Blissful silence. Breath vaporizing cold.
Someone, the sun probably, stupid son of a bitching sun, has decided that burning my retinas out through the skin of my eyelids would be a spectacular idea. My eyelids flutter open, squinting shut against the light beaming right into my face. I try to place my surroundings, completely lost in my barely conscious state. Aya's room. The hell? I prop myself up on my elbow, look at his clock. It's barely after six in the morning. Where is Aya then? I'm not seeing him anywhere.
I sit up and rub at my face, trying to piece things together. Wasn't I still supposed to be on that couch? Kicking the blankets off, I decide to go find out what exactly is happening. Heedless of the early hour, I stumble out into the hallway, expecting to find SOMEONE up at least. Ken's door is shut, Omi's partially closed.
I peek in on Blondie, not sure what I expect to see. A few tufts of blond hair poking up from under a great big heap of blankets. His deep sleep breathing barely registers beneath his huge pile of downy warmth. He's out still then, that means Ken in all likelihood is just as dead to the world.
Where the hell is Aya? I grumpily wonder. Down the stairs I go. This house isn't so bad in the light. Everything is clearer and less fear inspiring in the sun. It's a lot easier to be calm and rational when things aren't shadowy and intimidating.
Aya's asleep on the couch. Grr. How am I supposed to play martyr if he interferes. So much for a nice bout of self-pity and aggravated wounds to complain about.
I lean on the armrest, hovering above his head, glaring down at his peaceful, sleeping face. Apparently he can't subconsciously see me glowering at him; maybe if I try harder I'll burn holes in his skull with my eyes. No such luck. What's a guy to do when he can't ignite things with his laser vision?
I poke him, right between the eyes. He growls something low in his throat and bats at my hand.
"Uhnn. Sleeping." He rolls away from me, squinching his eyes tightly shut. I plop down on the couch next to him, bereft of my usual grace, but hell, it's understandable.
"Wakey, wakey Aya." I poke between his bare shoulder blades. He hunches them up and continues to try to sleep. I push the blankets aside and curl up against his back, grateful for the warmth. I'm going to annoy him awake if it's the last thing I do. If I'm up at six-something in the morning, he'd damned well better be.
Why the hell is he down here? I nuzzle my cold nose against the back of his neck. No reaction at all. Like lying next to a not yet cooled corpse. Hehe. He grabs the blankets, yanking them back up from where I'd shoved them.
"If you're going to make me cold, go away." He mutters at me, pulling the covers up above his head, mine as well. Mmm, warm indeed. Nothing nicer than heated flesh against heated flesh. Well, of course, it's nicer if the flesh is against flesh because you're having sex, but right now, I'll take what I can get. Skin is skin, and that's that.
Irritably, Aya carefully switches directions, facing me again, on the narrow couch. He shifts, pulling me partway on top of him so he can stretch out all the way, closing his eyes and falling back asleep again. He's like a big, malleable teddy bear when he's sleepy like this, almost comforting.
Physically tired, but not at all sleepy for once, I lie awake, staring at his face for a while more, for lack of better entertainment. Even asleep, the weariness is apparent on his features, from the tight set of his mouth, to the dark circles resembling bruises under his eyes.
If one were to read his face without knowing him, they'd immediately assume he had the weight of the world on his back, and then some. He's beautiful, actually, but that's another one of those thoughts I don't like to have. Then again, I could just be mentally rambling on like a moron though; I do that sometimes.
I rest my forehead on his shoulder, trying to dissolve myself into his calm state of existing, of being. His eyes open.
"Can you never stay still?"
I look up with a flurry of apologies on my lips, see his slightly amused expression and stop. He almost smiles for a second, catching sight of my repentant expression. I do grin back, it being more along the lines of my nature.
He gently pokes my right cheekbone with one of his long tapered fingers. "You're certainly in a better mood?" It's more of a question than a statement He readjusts the blankets a bit more, concealing us in a cozy, safe tent, reminiscent of play from my early, slightly more innocent childhood.
I give a miniature shrug, not even sure myself. "I just don't feel like absolute crap today, it's a nice change." I nuzzle against his bare shoulder, hair tumbling into my face in a tickling waterfall, trying to see how much I can get away with while this streak of daring lasts. "Mmmm." So very pleased with myself. Warm, comfortable, and pleasantly close to not being in an unbearable amount of pain.
He tilts his head and rests it against mine, eyes shutting again, breath coming out in a relaxed sigh. He's nicer when he's sleepy, I realize. Maybe if I just drug him out of his mind all the time...
"When's the last time you spent any amount of time in direct sunlight?" I trace a finger down along his arm, marveling at the absolute paleness of it.
He smacks my hand away, twitching his arm away from my curious attention. "Don't do that." Irritated, but only minimally so.
"Why not? Don't like complete strangers groping you?" I jokingly lean forward and run my tongue along the outer edge of one of his perfectly shaped ears before sucking an earlobe into my mouth, gently nipping at it.
Beside me, his entire body goes ridged, jerking back from me. The body heat we managed to capture and surround ourselves with escapes as the blanket gets kicked away. His eyes waver between startlement and bewildered anger.
I grab a hold of his arm before he can start and bolt. "Hell! I was kidding around. I'm the one who's supposed to be jumpy and chumming with the cult of victim hood! I was just joking, calm down Aya." Frightened by my own reaction. I am not going to turn into some sort of slut again, going after anyone and everything in an attempt to burn the past from my mind. I back away, trying to figure myself out. "Just calm down." If that's to myself or him, I'm not sure.
He does just that, schooling his expression and shrugging off my hand. "Don't do that, ever." He turns to face me, a perfect picture of seriousness.
"Why not?" I demand, somewhat irked. "Look, I was only kidding, first off, and secondly, what right do you have to be so jumpy? I'm the one who spent who the fuck knows how long playing with Captain Bondage and his little rapist friends." I stop. "Nevermind, whatever."
I slump forward, elbows on knees, chin on hands. There goes my good mood for this morning. I don't know whom to blame. Am I at fault for not knowing when to just back off and retreat to a corner to revel in my first break from hard times, or should I be glaring at Aya and all his damned warped issues?
Uncomfortable silence ensues. Gods, these stupid awkward pauses. Can't stand them. I rub uncomfortably at the back of my neck, one of the few unmarked spots on my body.
His hands hesitantly brush mine aside and take over work on my sore muscles. I suppose I could take this as a counterbalance for the silence but- Mmmm, right there, harder.
Knuckles kneading deep into tense tissue, gliding down to the flesh between my neck and shoulders, on to shoulder blades. I close my eyes with the pleasure of it all, leaning back into his touch. Yeah, I could definitely accept this as an apology. I unconsciously let out a low groan, loving every second.
He pauses. "Am I hurting you?"
"Far from it." Another deep sigh. "Mmmm, how much would I have to pay you in the way of a salary to get this once a day?" It's not that he's extraordinarily good at this, I wouldn't expect him to be, shunning human contact like the plague as he tends to do. Still, it's another person, reaching all those out of the way spots I myself can't get at, easing more tension then I'd ever thought possible, relaxing muscles I didn't know existed. Okay, now I'm starting to sound more than a little deprived.
He returns attention to my neck, and I lean back against him, surprised by his undeniable solidity again. His arms go around my torso, calm, supporting. Hell, who needs a string of non-productive, depression inducing girlfriends when you can have an Aya? Comes complete with his own emotional hang-ups and easily irritated personality. I get the impression that product might not sell too easily.
Steady breaths by my ear. Slouched as I am, I actually have to tilt my chin upwards to meet his eyes. My lips spread apart in a smile again. Damn, but it's good to be somewhere else! Aya's eyes lower, following the curve of my lips, and I know exactly how this will turn out, a slow seduction from both and neither of us. I have the good sense to stop smiling in time, at least.
Slow and hazy, warm lips against mine. My mind shuts down, but habit is more than willing to take over, habit knows what to do next, regardless of the fact that it's one of my male teammates I'm locking lips with. Progressing to tongues, hot slick, his full lower lip between my teeth. Gods, now I'm in heaven. His fingers clench in my hair, tugging on my scalp, trying to swallow my tongue whole.
Just when things are finally starting to get good, Ken comes loudly tromping down the stairs. That's more than enough to startle Aya out of the kiss. I try to thread fingers through his hair to keep him there, hormones more than willing to be seen like this by Ken, Omi, or even the entire world. Aya's not willing for that to happen, I manage to catch a glimpse of wild, confused amethyst eyes before he bolts from the room.
It's all I can do not to give Ken an Aya-like death glare when he finally tromps through the living room. I sigh and lean forward, resting my forehead on my hands, suddenly craving a nice cigarette to make everything all better. Who cares if two whole weeks without a cigarette, willing or unwilling, is the only head start I'll really get to quitting? You don't see alcoholics using any such reasoning, do you? Addictions are addictions, and old habits are hard to push away.
"Are you up already?" Ken asks. "Who brought the blanket down for you? Aya?"
I'm startled for a second, before remembering, of course, how would Ken know that Aya'd carried me back upstairs and slept down here in my stead? "Yeah, Aya did." I rub at my face. "Now if he could find a pack of cigarettes and a can of beer for me too." I trail off, not sure if my fake aggravated tone really is all that fake.
"Well, now is as good a time as any to quit." Ken points out. "You've been all this while without a cigarette. It can't be THAT bad for you still. Use a little will power, Youji." He flippantly calls over his shoulder, loudly thumping into the kitchen. I glare daggers after him. Damn it! No Aya, no sex, no cigarettes. That's a definite goodbye to the pleasant mood.
"We have no food in this house." Ken cheerily announces, bouncing back and flumping down on the couch next to me. Great. No food either. "Actually, I'm thinking of running out somewhere, not a food store, a decent restaurant, eat some good food in a nicer atmosphere. Do you want to come with? Or would you like me to bring you something back?"
"I don't apparently own any clothes anymore." I remind him. "I'm hungry enough to leave the house like this, but I think my somewhat battered state might raise some concern out in the general public." I demonstratively poke one of the dark angry bruises decorating my ribs. "Someone might turn you in for spouse abuse." It's hard not to laugh at the image.
Ken scowls, thinking.
"Don't hurt yourself!" I joke, my nature not cooperative enough to let me brood on my own.
He starts to pull back to punch my arm in retaliation before realizing what his hand would connect with. "Sorry! Wasn't thinking." He sighs. "I could pick up some clothes for you, while I'm out. I've lived with you long enough and done enough laundry to know your size and style preferences."
I look up with an eager grin. "Real clothes would be MUCH appreciated. I mean, hell! What am I wearing now? Are these Aya's pants or something?" I pluck at the loose waist. Ken laughs.
"What do you want to eat?"
I shrug in reply. "Food. Period. Anything is fine with me."
He grins and dashes upstairs for a shower. One thing taken care of. Now to find Aya before irreparable damage is done.
I look in the kitchen first, making my way there slowly and carefully. Yeah, I'm feeling a tiny bit better, but even I know better than to push that right now. No Aya. He hasn't run upstairs, I know that much. There are more than enough rooms downstairs, none of which I'm familiar with. Off the living room I find a surprisingly bare room. I guess no one could really think of anything to do with it. From what I've heard from my teammates so far, we're not exactly on planning on settling down here.
Next off I encounter a smaller room who's sole occupant seems to be a couch, back to me. I pause, hearing the barely audible breathing of my quarry. So this is where he's run to hide.
"Sometimes I think your issues FAR surpass my own." I state, leaning over the back of the couch. Startled violet eyes meet my own before narrowing defensively. Talk about role-reversals. I guess last night was my turn to be paranoid and unresponsive, now it's his. A slight frown creases my forehead; he WAS the one to kiss me...
Aya's scowl deepens. "You're invading my space." He finally states, unable to come up with a better dismissal. His lips tighten and my eyes are drawn to his mouth, instantly replaying the brief kiss, urging me to go back to where we left off. I lower my eyelids, blocking the site as I try to reign myself in. Gods, but it's been a long time. Here I am lusting after AYA of all people. That's about as sane as finding nuns to be desirable. No way, no how.
I consider leaping over the back of the couch as I normally would, have a brief internal conversation with my body and settle for walking around the side. I settle down next to Aya. "Look. I don't want things to go awry between us. We're teammates, we four against the world. We can't be hating each other, especially not now, when we don't even have a real home anymore."
In an unexpected, almost childish gesture, Aya sighs, slumps and then grasps for my arm. Silence, but none of the pent up frustration and upset in the air this time. Carefully I slide my arm back and clasp his dry palm. "Can we at least have a truce then?" I ask, searching his face.
He smiles back, unexpectedly. The smile fades and his eyes lower again. I sigh. "We're all really falling apart here, aren't we?" I whisper, not expecting a reply.
That's when Aya decides it would be a good time to kiss me again. Funny how his mind works, even funnier how ready I am to accept it all. He's artless with inexperience but surprisingly willing to give it his all. Nothing but pure lust now, my teeth nip at the corner of his mouth before parting his lips with my tongue, thrilling at the slick heat. His heartbeat quickens beneath my palm.
The kiss intensifies as the seconds pass. His hands tangle in my sleep-mussed hair, kneading my scalp while I explore his mouth, tongue slicking across his. The low breathy moans of response send shivers down my spine. Slowly, so slowly he doesn't notice, I start to lever him backwards, taking the upper hand. What else would Youji Kudou the Seducer of Innocents do? Gods, I could die like this, kissing this warm pliant mouth, sucking on that delectable lower lip, sliding my hands up his bare, searing skin. He starts under my fingertips, but settles again as they rough across his nipples, pushing him all the way down.
His legs part for me, hot erection against hot hard erection. It seems natural to rock my hips against his, natural to swallow his muffled gasp. His hips buck right back against mine and I find myself hating the borrowed pants blocking me from real, raw skin. I can't concentrate, my mind falling into shadows as my deprived and needy body takes over. Aya certainly has no complaints as I finally break our kiss and trail tiny nips down his neck, pausing to lap at the hollow of his throat. I can physically feel the muted groan in his throat resonating through my skull.
I start trailing wet, slow, sucking, open mouthed kisses down along his chest, my hips slowing and then stopping, chuckling at Aya's softly voiced protests.
"Youji! What are you- Mmmm..." He trails off as my mouth closes over his nipple. I lash my tongue across the hardened nub of flesh, sucking lightly. Aya practically melts, kneading increasingly at my scalp like a pleased cat. Gods, I could make him purr, I could make him scream my name. I turn to his other nipple, repeating the process, backing away fractionally to blow cool air over the stiff nub, gently rolling its neglected companion between fingertips.
Underneath me, he rears up, flipping me to the bottom, initiating a harsh, almost violent clash of lips and teeth and hot tangling tongues. His hips forcefully grind against mine, rapidly focusing all my attention on the juncture between my thighs. Gods, if he'll just keep this up... Little tremors run through me as I thrust back up, hungry for the much-missed rush of an orgasm. Teasingly, my fingernails rake down his sides. He hisses sharply and retaliates with a few well-aimed snaps of his hips. I throw my head back and gasp, tingles shivering down my entire body, too-long hair trying to stand on end.
"Nnn, fuck, Aya. Don't you dare stop." I mumble against the silk flesh of his shoulder. He wants to play top-dog right now, no problemo. Just as long as he doesn't stop. Control rapidly slipping, I bite down on his shoulder, thrilling at his guttural murmuring. Gods, the things he's whispering in my ear, the invitations are enough to make me light headed.
All I want is him, pinned down under me, muscles straining towards mine as I slide into his tight hot body, his breath thundering in my ear as his nails claw furrows down the length of my back.
So close, just a few more seconds. Don't stop. Gods, the pleasure is overwhelming, it's been so long, just want release, but it keeps building. He's hard, grinding against me, skin burning but smooth to a touch. His lips find mine again, fingers tangle in my wandering ones. Unbearable, so very close, shudders shaking me, tears leaking from under closed eyelids. Oh fuck, I need this, need to knock him back, need to be inside, to feel that velvet clutching me tight as I finally give in and come. So close, please, so close, I could die like this.
I struggle to regain the upper hand. This is my game, not his. When he won't give in easily and let me sit up, I heave upwards and knock us both off the couch, using his surprise to my advantage and coming out on top, literally. He thrashes, determined to win this match, but I've got him off balance. My hands greedily stroke down his exposed torso, pushing down cloth when they encounter his waistband. Aya's lost, face tilted up, eyes dark closed slits, breath coming in harsh, raw sobs. Gods, that face, I swoop down for a demanding kiss, sucking his distracted tongue into my mouth, reinstating my dominance. This is MY ball game. Fuck, I can't stop. I don't want to stop. I close my own eyes, dissolving into everything around me.
"Hey! Youji! I'm heading out now! Are you sure you don't have anything specific you want me to pick up for you to eat?" Ken hollers from the stairwell. Talk about throwing ice water on a guy. Aya freezes, eyes snapping open, then before I even have time to back off myself, knowing that look in his eyes, he scrambles upright, knocking me over in the process. I grumble as he turns for flight.
"If you go out there, then not only will Ken see you, but he'd have a pretty good guess of what you were up to." I state calmly, he freezes again, poised for flight. How like him. "I think he might notice the big bulge in the front of your pants, no? He's not entirely stupid." I grin, admiring the view.
I deliberately glide my eyes up and down his body, immediately slipping back into playboy mode with the reintroduction to sex still playing on my frazzled nerves. Aya, sex, Aya, sex. Odd words to use one right after another, but right now, looking at his flushed face, his ruffled hair, his heaving chest, those two words are starting to seem like a pretty good combination.
"Youji? Are you still down here?" Ken calls again. I sigh, running trembling fingers through my hair.
"Yeah, just came back here to get some rest where no one could thump around and bother me. I still don't want anything specific to eat. Thanks though." I force a false note of sleepy gratitude into my voice, knowing my voice will carry well in this airy new home.
"Well, all right then, get plenty of rest, Youji!"
I hear the front door open and then slam close. I watch amethyst eyes dart back and forth between my face and the door. Scared, on the edge of fleeing. Welcome to the club, Aya. I run fingers through my hair again, trying to settle my thoughts into some order as arousal starts to partially cool.
Being my usual eloquent self, I finally give in and sigh. "What exactly was that all about?" I meet his stare with a frank one of my own. Gods, this is all so, for lack of a better description, fucked up. One second Aya's hating me, the next he's doting on my disoriented emotions, and then we're going at each other like animals in heat.
He wants to bolt, just forget everything that happened. I'm sure he could too, if I'd let him. This is more than a little confusing. I continue to focus on his face, waiting for a reaction of any sort. Nothing, his expression is blank, vision focusing on something over my shoulder.
I gingerly rise to my feet, body protesting my earlier vigor, and the lack of care I showed it. Aya inches back a step.
"You run away now, and I'll hunt you down and kick your ass." I caution, taking a few shaky steps closer. "And don't think I can't or won't." It's meant as a joke, but I don't smile, and neither does he.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
See, and there you were thinking you got a full lemon this early in the game! Well, a teaser is better than nada! Write to me, complain or something! I crave e-mails. I crave feedback! darkhunter@ijustdontcare.com or akainobaka@mchsi.com Take your pick!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I don't sleep much, staying up thinking. Aya has a sister. No. Ran has a sister. Her name is Aya. Hells, I certainly didn't see that coming, did I? I watch his sleeping profile, trying to puzzle out a lot of things. Why hadn't he ever mentioned her?
He sighs in his sleep, eyelashes fluttering for a second. What else does he have to hide? What do I really know about him then? He has a sibling. Does he have others? Where are his parents? Why is he here instead of with them? Why is the girl, Aya, in a coma?
I curl up under the blankets, exhausted beyond comprehension, yet unable to sleep for the wondering. I almost wish he hadn't told me.
His eyes are open. When did he wake up?
"Are you going to sleep soon? Or are you going to keep twitching about for a few more hours?" He growls at me. Why do I find it reassuring when he gets angry with me? Maybe because it's the one thing I can expect from him and not be let down on.
"I'm sorry." I'm unsure of what else to say, holding back a barrage of inquiries.
"Don't be sorry, just stop it." He crosses his arms behind his head, under the pillow. I rub at the gathering ache behind my eyes. Is this what it feels like to be old? Body a constant aching mass of unpleasantries?
"Why is it you're physically incapable of holding still??" He snaps, sitting up, in full Aya-rage pissed-off mode, eyes raw and tired behind the almost superficial anger. He needs sleep more than he needs to want to smother me with a pillow, going through for show now.
"You want a list of noteworthy complaints? My head hurts and I can't sleep, all right. Ever inch of me screams agony in a million different colors. I keep thinking I see people coming through the walls at me, and you're playing Mr. Enigmatic again. I'm trying to hold still. It's not my fault the rest of my entire body hurts no matter how I'm lying." I decide to go ahead and air my grievances, bed sharing or no. If he kicks me out, I'll just sleep on the floor in the hallway, nowhere else to go, and I couldn't possibly be more uncomfortable by this point, could I?
"Why the hell are you complaining still?" It comes out as a roar, as he hurls his pillow at the lamp, smashing ceramic against wooden floors. Down the hallway, I can hear thumps from Omi's room and Ken's as well, as bare feet hit the bare, cool floors. "If you hadn't taken to following me around, invading my privacy, none of this would have happened. If you would just get out of my business and stay away from me, none of this would have happened." In a fit of rage he throws my pillow at the wall for good measure. "I don't know whether to accuse you or myself of being the one who destroys everything they touch."
I flinch back from his rage, no longer just a farce, jumping further when Omi and Ken come barreling into the room.
"What's going on?" Ken demands, eyes wide, trying to feign an air of awareness he doesn't possess yet. His hair is rumple from sleeping, claws strapped on and ready for business, both of them jumpy as hell. Neither Omi nor Ken appear overly startled to find me wrapped up in the blankets from Aya's bed, though from the angry looks they're both shooting Aya, they're thinking he shouldn't be berating me so soon after my return.
"It doesn't concern you." Aya tersely informs them. The light from the hall beautifully lights his amethyst eyes, turning him into some sort of holy vengeful demon. I stare with amazed eyes, seeing him in a altered light for the full ten seconds it takes for the door to swing shut under it's own power.
Ken stands behind me, no doubt glaring daggers at our violent red headed teammate all the while. Aya glowers back, no longer unearthly, just frighteningly angry.
"This doesn't concern you in the slightest bit." He reiterates.
"Yes, this does concern me. If your attitude it detrimental to Youji's health then it does concern me very much so." Aya meets him with glittering ice chip eyes. I certainly would feel a twinge of uncertainly for MY life if I had those eyes trained on me, and why the hell is Ken trying to defend me now? What have I missed here?
"You worried I'm going to break a few more of his ribs, throw him into a wall?" His eyes are narrowed, furious slits. "This is a matter between the two of us and we're settling it as such."
Omi tugs on Ken's sleeve, acknowledging Aya's explanation. I'm unsure whether to be relieved or worried. "Ken. Come on."
"One piece. He better be in one undamaged piece tomorrow morning." Ken fiercely hisses. I don't need him to protect me. I wave in his direction. He gives in to Omi's insistences that he leave the room.
Aya fixes his untamed rage back on me once the door is securely closed. "Why are you bitching at me? I did the best I could. I took care of you when you showed up again. It's not my fucking fault you're a useless failure, that you can't manage to do anything correctly." The words come unendingly, a damn finally unstopped. "If YOU would just keep to your own business and stay out of mine, everything would be fine. If you would just get over whatever it is that's affecting your attitude, I wouldn't have had to get involved in the first place. Every time I turn around all I see is you fucking up yourself again, purposefully injuring yourself or letting others do the work for you. What the hell are you bitching at me about?"
I unsteadily clamber to my feet, shedding blankets.
"What are you doing now?" Aya hisses impatiently.
Without replying, I push through the door, knocking over two eavesdropping assassins in the process.
"Youji? What's going on?" "Are you okay?" They burst out simultaneously. I don't reply, trying to stomp, but only succeeding in reeling, down the hall. Back to my room. He's right. I'm useless, can't do anything right, I should have died, he should have killed me. I deserve to suffer in fear, waiting for reasoning to return in this horrid pale place.
I run his words through my head as I just manage to keep from throwing myself down on my mattress, knowing that action would leave me in agony. I ease down, crouching on the edge. 'If you would just get over whatever it is that's affecting your attitude, I wouldn't have had to get involved in the first place.'
So why did he then? Was it some sort of fucking joke to him? I thought maybe after all this time we'd spent watching each other's backs and sharing the dark secret of Weiss, perhaps he'd feel something other than disdain or indifference for me. Don't I deserve friendship? A bit of grudging respect? I don't need him toying with my emotions.
Hushed whispers outside my door. I stumble back to lock my door, wondering if I'll pass out as everything swims in and out of focus. I can't win, can I? Just when I think something good is happening, it goes wrong, or never reaches a plateau that could be described as even tolerable to begin with.
I curl up, ignoring the pain, ignoring everything, fists to my eyes, trying to forget about those damned blaring white walls, to forget about why it is my whole body hurts, forget about why there's that tightening of my chest.
All thoughts of sleep are gone, replaced by self-loathing and that irrational desire to give up and abandon life. Painkillers would help. Lots and lots of them. Enough to ease the pain of my body, and ease the motions of my heart. If Aya put them back in the bathroom though, I'm out of luck. I'm not leaving this room.
Someone tries the doorknob, repeatedly. Bangs on the wooden barrier they've come up against. I ignore it. The door slams open, the old lock tearing through the wall. Aya. Panic now. He's going to kill me. That's what I want, but not like this. I don't want to die like this, the victim of another senseless beating. No more pain. I should die, for the cringing coward I've become.
"Aya! Stop it." Behind him, meaningless phrases. I don't' remove the fists from my eyes. The door slams shut, the heavy scrapes of furniture being dragged in front of the door. Oh gods, he's barricading himself in here with me.
My own mattress dips down in front of me. I won't open my eyes. It won't be Aya or Stone-Face, just this blending of the two, an indescribable, horrible monstrosity, bent on causing pain and terror.
Hands catch hold of my own fisted ones, pulling them away from my eyes. I don't want to see. Don't want to hurt. Nothing, no blows, no yelling, no sound, no nothing. Just fingers wrapped around my own, silence. I cautiously open one eye, expecting blinding light, Waxen dark features, black hair.
Moonlight, blood red hair, features cast into perfect shadow. "Youji, I-" He stops, the words strained to breaking. He curves his body forward, his face inches from mine as he focuses on my face.
"Listen. I shouldn't have said that." His eyes dip shut. "There's a reason I don't talk much, I shouldn't have-" he sighs, as if the admission tears at the fiber of his being. I know it does. Any form of apologizing grains against his stiff pride.
I don't reply. I won't fall into his trap. I've done that already. Pretending he actually gave a fuck whether or not I lived or died. Making me eat when I wouldn't, saving my life when I wanted to be killed. Some sort of amusing game for him. I lower my eyelids and snatch my hands back.
He makes a noise in his throat. Mad about this then? Showing his true colors?
"Why don't you trust me?"
I keep silent. I wonder if there's anyone left out there who doesn't harbor some secret design with the ultimate goal of fucking me over?
"I don't have any goals like that." Aya informs me candidly.
Shit. Did I say that out loud? I hadn't meant to. Have trouble trying to keep my mouth from speeding ahead of my mind. I cautiously straighten up, hesitant, but a bit surer he's not going to kill me or hurt me, not immediately, at least.
Ken's pounding desperately on the door and yelling, but the heavy dresser somewhat muffles the noise. I look back to Aya.
"What is it that you want from me then. It seems like no matter what I do someone is always out to get me, or use me for something, or abandon in return for something better. It's just too much sometimes, you know?" My shoulders slump tiredly. "I can't trust you. I can't trust anyone. What am I supposed to do?"
"Why don't you trust me?" He repeats.
"Why should I? From day one you've only criticized me and complained about various ingrained portions of my personality. Then out of the blue you suddenly turn around and start buddying up to me in your own resentful, harsh way. All I can think is that you want something from me. You MUST want something from me. I can't think what. I don't have anything left."
"Youji, are you okay? Aya, you fucking son of a bitch, have you finally lost your mind?" Ken's freaking out, for lack of a better phrase. There's anger and worry and fear wrapped up in his shouts.
Aya's fingertips brush my jaw, turning my face back in his direction. "I have no ill will towards you. You are my teammate, I'd almost say friend. I trust you, and would hope you'd do me the same courtesy. I have never wronged you in any way. I have only your good will in mind," he earnestly states.
I shrug and look down, the possibility of being lied to and manipulated yet again too much to think around. He grasps my hands again. "Please. Trust me. Have I ever faulted you?" Soft, trying to win me over. He clasps my hands in his again. I feel trapped but don't break away. Fine, he wants to play it this way. I won't cooperate, but I won't stubbornly resist either.
He tilts his head downwards; trying to make me lift my head up, make me meet his eyes. I lean forward, my forehead coming to rest against his chest, tired beyond all words, all thoughts. His arms circle around me, an odd sensation after so long without contact, without pain. My mind flashes back to the bathtub, how he just sat with me until I calmed down, stayed in the water with me, soaking clothes and all. That's not something you'd waste your time on for something too trivial, right? Or is it? With Aya, I've never understood.
Slow soothing hands stroke my hair, remembering not to touch my back or the sore spot on the back of my skull. I close my eyes, turning Ken's upset squalling into white noise. Peace.
"Are you alright?"
"No." I blithely answer, not concerned at all. If he'd be quiet then all would be well. I almost want to cry, but my eyes are desert dry. This is one of those instances where deliberately caused pain produces sensations beyond exquisite when finally stopped, basking in the wave of abating tension, of relief. Real human touch after so long without. Next I should try banging my head against a wall so it feels marvelous when I stop. Same principal.
His arms release me. I try not to cling. Now he's going to open the door and show Ken the still undamaged me. Well, not undamaged, just not worse-off me. And then he'll go back to his room and I'll be in here. I look dreamily at those pale walls, glaring in the dark. Maybe instead of dying, I can just stay in here forever, punished by the things I failed to deter, the thoughts I can't quite cancel out.
With a heave he pushes the heavy dresser back from the door, the huge mirror wobbling but never falling over. I watch the mirror for reflections from things not actually in the room with us, but none appear. What a relief. Six hundred horror movies later, and I still wouldn't know what to do.
Ken burst in, slamming Aya back, hurling verbal obscenities at him, that good old self-righteous rage flaring in his eyes. You've got to admire the kid. He's got panache when it comes to almost embarrassing fits of emotion.
He slams Aya backwards when he sees me, kneeling down next to me. "Youji? Are you alright? Are you okay? What the hell is going on?"
I look numbly back at him and shake my head, not sure what he's asking.
Ken examines my face, attention darting from me back to Aya and then back to me again. I jerk away from his prodding fingers, forcing my mind to push aside a few layers of haze, forcing my tongue to work, my mouth to open.
"I'm fine. Aya and I just had to finish with a discussion." I'm almost shocked by how flat the words sound. I don't know. Maybe I have no reason to be paranoid. Perhaps I'm just looking for problems and deceit where they don't exist, too used to seeing that in all past experiences.
Ken shifts so he's crouching comfortably. "Are you alright Youji?"
"Yeah, I said I was, didn't I?"
"I'm not talking about whatever it is you and Aya are fighting about. I'm talking, 'are you okay' in general? I don't know all of what happened to you, what you were told, but I do know you came back soaked in your own blood and half dead, you still look like shit, no surprise, you've only been back for two days."
This gives me a pause. Two days since I left that place? How long have I slept then? Total hours, that is. I stop paying attention to Ken as I try to puzzle that out. How long have I been dead to the world? How many days have I not been here?
"How long have I been gone?"
"You're going to have to clarify." Omi pipes up.
"How long was I not here? How long ago was the job at the Towers? How many days passed while I was gone?"
"Weeks." Omi gently corrects. "You've been gone for over two weeks. Didn't you know that?"
"Silly me. I should have been keeping track on the Cuddly Kittens calendar they left in my cell," I snap back. Over two weeks. How could I lose that much time and not know it?
I stumble to my feet, whirling around, hall light shining on the pale walls, too many people in the room. Crowded.
"I'm going to go sleep downstairs, on the couch. Just leave me alone." I haphazardly push past all living bodies in my way, thumping painfully down the stairs, head ringing with every heavy-heeled footstep.
Why bother killing myself. Life itself will take care of that on its own some time soon.
I curl up in a shivering, aching ball, trying to shut out the world without the benefit of sanity, or even a pillow or blanket. That pretty much sums up my life. Me, myself and I, weathering the elements and taking things as best we can. Aya, thankfully, doesn't follow me, trying to play nursemaid. Blissful silence. Breath vaporizing cold.
Someone, the sun probably, stupid son of a bitching sun, has decided that burning my retinas out through the skin of my eyelids would be a spectacular idea. My eyelids flutter open, squinting shut against the light beaming right into my face. I try to place my surroundings, completely lost in my barely conscious state. Aya's room. The hell? I prop myself up on my elbow, look at his clock. It's barely after six in the morning. Where is Aya then? I'm not seeing him anywhere.
I sit up and rub at my face, trying to piece things together. Wasn't I still supposed to be on that couch? Kicking the blankets off, I decide to go find out what exactly is happening. Heedless of the early hour, I stumble out into the hallway, expecting to find SOMEONE up at least. Ken's door is shut, Omi's partially closed.
I peek in on Blondie, not sure what I expect to see. A few tufts of blond hair poking up from under a great big heap of blankets. His deep sleep breathing barely registers beneath his huge pile of downy warmth. He's out still then, that means Ken in all likelihood is just as dead to the world.
Where the hell is Aya? I grumpily wonder. Down the stairs I go. This house isn't so bad in the light. Everything is clearer and less fear inspiring in the sun. It's a lot easier to be calm and rational when things aren't shadowy and intimidating.
Aya's asleep on the couch. Grr. How am I supposed to play martyr if he interferes. So much for a nice bout of self-pity and aggravated wounds to complain about.
I lean on the armrest, hovering above his head, glaring down at his peaceful, sleeping face. Apparently he can't subconsciously see me glowering at him; maybe if I try harder I'll burn holes in his skull with my eyes. No such luck. What's a guy to do when he can't ignite things with his laser vision?
I poke him, right between the eyes. He growls something low in his throat and bats at my hand.
"Uhnn. Sleeping." He rolls away from me, squinching his eyes tightly shut. I plop down on the couch next to him, bereft of my usual grace, but hell, it's understandable.
"Wakey, wakey Aya." I poke between his bare shoulder blades. He hunches them up and continues to try to sleep. I push the blankets aside and curl up against his back, grateful for the warmth. I'm going to annoy him awake if it's the last thing I do. If I'm up at six-something in the morning, he'd damned well better be.
Why the hell is he down here? I nuzzle my cold nose against the back of his neck. No reaction at all. Like lying next to a not yet cooled corpse. Hehe. He grabs the blankets, yanking them back up from where I'd shoved them.
"If you're going to make me cold, go away." He mutters at me, pulling the covers up above his head, mine as well. Mmm, warm indeed. Nothing nicer than heated flesh against heated flesh. Well, of course, it's nicer if the flesh is against flesh because you're having sex, but right now, I'll take what I can get. Skin is skin, and that's that.
Irritably, Aya carefully switches directions, facing me again, on the narrow couch. He shifts, pulling me partway on top of him so he can stretch out all the way, closing his eyes and falling back asleep again. He's like a big, malleable teddy bear when he's sleepy like this, almost comforting.
Physically tired, but not at all sleepy for once, I lie awake, staring at his face for a while more, for lack of better entertainment. Even asleep, the weariness is apparent on his features, from the tight set of his mouth, to the dark circles resembling bruises under his eyes.
If one were to read his face without knowing him, they'd immediately assume he had the weight of the world on his back, and then some. He's beautiful, actually, but that's another one of those thoughts I don't like to have. Then again, I could just be mentally rambling on like a moron though; I do that sometimes.
I rest my forehead on his shoulder, trying to dissolve myself into his calm state of existing, of being. His eyes open.
"Can you never stay still?"
I look up with a flurry of apologies on my lips, see his slightly amused expression and stop. He almost smiles for a second, catching sight of my repentant expression. I do grin back, it being more along the lines of my nature.
He gently pokes my right cheekbone with one of his long tapered fingers. "You're certainly in a better mood?" It's more of a question than a statement He readjusts the blankets a bit more, concealing us in a cozy, safe tent, reminiscent of play from my early, slightly more innocent childhood.
I give a miniature shrug, not even sure myself. "I just don't feel like absolute crap today, it's a nice change." I nuzzle against his bare shoulder, hair tumbling into my face in a tickling waterfall, trying to see how much I can get away with while this streak of daring lasts. "Mmmm." So very pleased with myself. Warm, comfortable, and pleasantly close to not being in an unbearable amount of pain.
He tilts his head and rests it against mine, eyes shutting again, breath coming out in a relaxed sigh. He's nicer when he's sleepy, I realize. Maybe if I just drug him out of his mind all the time...
"When's the last time you spent any amount of time in direct sunlight?" I trace a finger down along his arm, marveling at the absolute paleness of it.
He smacks my hand away, twitching his arm away from my curious attention. "Don't do that." Irritated, but only minimally so.
"Why not? Don't like complete strangers groping you?" I jokingly lean forward and run my tongue along the outer edge of one of his perfectly shaped ears before sucking an earlobe into my mouth, gently nipping at it.
Beside me, his entire body goes ridged, jerking back from me. The body heat we managed to capture and surround ourselves with escapes as the blanket gets kicked away. His eyes waver between startlement and bewildered anger.
I grab a hold of his arm before he can start and bolt. "Hell! I was kidding around. I'm the one who's supposed to be jumpy and chumming with the cult of victim hood! I was just joking, calm down Aya." Frightened by my own reaction. I am not going to turn into some sort of slut again, going after anyone and everything in an attempt to burn the past from my mind. I back away, trying to figure myself out. "Just calm down." If that's to myself or him, I'm not sure.
He does just that, schooling his expression and shrugging off my hand. "Don't do that, ever." He turns to face me, a perfect picture of seriousness.
"Why not?" I demand, somewhat irked. "Look, I was only kidding, first off, and secondly, what right do you have to be so jumpy? I'm the one who spent who the fuck knows how long playing with Captain Bondage and his little rapist friends." I stop. "Nevermind, whatever."
I slump forward, elbows on knees, chin on hands. There goes my good mood for this morning. I don't know whom to blame. Am I at fault for not knowing when to just back off and retreat to a corner to revel in my first break from hard times, or should I be glaring at Aya and all his damned warped issues?
Uncomfortable silence ensues. Gods, these stupid awkward pauses. Can't stand them. I rub uncomfortably at the back of my neck, one of the few unmarked spots on my body.
His hands hesitantly brush mine aside and take over work on my sore muscles. I suppose I could take this as a counterbalance for the silence but- Mmmm, right there, harder.
Knuckles kneading deep into tense tissue, gliding down to the flesh between my neck and shoulders, on to shoulder blades. I close my eyes with the pleasure of it all, leaning back into his touch. Yeah, I could definitely accept this as an apology. I unconsciously let out a low groan, loving every second.
He pauses. "Am I hurting you?"
"Far from it." Another deep sigh. "Mmmm, how much would I have to pay you in the way of a salary to get this once a day?" It's not that he's extraordinarily good at this, I wouldn't expect him to be, shunning human contact like the plague as he tends to do. Still, it's another person, reaching all those out of the way spots I myself can't get at, easing more tension then I'd ever thought possible, relaxing muscles I didn't know existed. Okay, now I'm starting to sound more than a little deprived.
He returns attention to my neck, and I lean back against him, surprised by his undeniable solidity again. His arms go around my torso, calm, supporting. Hell, who needs a string of non-productive, depression inducing girlfriends when you can have an Aya? Comes complete with his own emotional hang-ups and easily irritated personality. I get the impression that product might not sell too easily.
Steady breaths by my ear. Slouched as I am, I actually have to tilt my chin upwards to meet his eyes. My lips spread apart in a smile again. Damn, but it's good to be somewhere else! Aya's eyes lower, following the curve of my lips, and I know exactly how this will turn out, a slow seduction from both and neither of us. I have the good sense to stop smiling in time, at least.
Slow and hazy, warm lips against mine. My mind shuts down, but habit is more than willing to take over, habit knows what to do next, regardless of the fact that it's one of my male teammates I'm locking lips with. Progressing to tongues, hot slick, his full lower lip between my teeth. Gods, now I'm in heaven. His fingers clench in my hair, tugging on my scalp, trying to swallow my tongue whole.
Just when things are finally starting to get good, Ken comes loudly tromping down the stairs. That's more than enough to startle Aya out of the kiss. I try to thread fingers through his hair to keep him there, hormones more than willing to be seen like this by Ken, Omi, or even the entire world. Aya's not willing for that to happen, I manage to catch a glimpse of wild, confused amethyst eyes before he bolts from the room.
It's all I can do not to give Ken an Aya-like death glare when he finally tromps through the living room. I sigh and lean forward, resting my forehead on my hands, suddenly craving a nice cigarette to make everything all better. Who cares if two whole weeks without a cigarette, willing or unwilling, is the only head start I'll really get to quitting? You don't see alcoholics using any such reasoning, do you? Addictions are addictions, and old habits are hard to push away.
"Are you up already?" Ken asks. "Who brought the blanket down for you? Aya?"
I'm startled for a second, before remembering, of course, how would Ken know that Aya'd carried me back upstairs and slept down here in my stead? "Yeah, Aya did." I rub at my face. "Now if he could find a pack of cigarettes and a can of beer for me too." I trail off, not sure if my fake aggravated tone really is all that fake.
"Well, now is as good a time as any to quit." Ken points out. "You've been all this while without a cigarette. It can't be THAT bad for you still. Use a little will power, Youji." He flippantly calls over his shoulder, loudly thumping into the kitchen. I glare daggers after him. Damn it! No Aya, no sex, no cigarettes. That's a definite goodbye to the pleasant mood.
"We have no food in this house." Ken cheerily announces, bouncing back and flumping down on the couch next to me. Great. No food either. "Actually, I'm thinking of running out somewhere, not a food store, a decent restaurant, eat some good food in a nicer atmosphere. Do you want to come with? Or would you like me to bring you something back?"
"I don't apparently own any clothes anymore." I remind him. "I'm hungry enough to leave the house like this, but I think my somewhat battered state might raise some concern out in the general public." I demonstratively poke one of the dark angry bruises decorating my ribs. "Someone might turn you in for spouse abuse." It's hard not to laugh at the image.
Ken scowls, thinking.
"Don't hurt yourself!" I joke, my nature not cooperative enough to let me brood on my own.
He starts to pull back to punch my arm in retaliation before realizing what his hand would connect with. "Sorry! Wasn't thinking." He sighs. "I could pick up some clothes for you, while I'm out. I've lived with you long enough and done enough laundry to know your size and style preferences."
I look up with an eager grin. "Real clothes would be MUCH appreciated. I mean, hell! What am I wearing now? Are these Aya's pants or something?" I pluck at the loose waist. Ken laughs.
"What do you want to eat?"
I shrug in reply. "Food. Period. Anything is fine with me."
He grins and dashes upstairs for a shower. One thing taken care of. Now to find Aya before irreparable damage is done.
I look in the kitchen first, making my way there slowly and carefully. Yeah, I'm feeling a tiny bit better, but even I know better than to push that right now. No Aya. He hasn't run upstairs, I know that much. There are more than enough rooms downstairs, none of which I'm familiar with. Off the living room I find a surprisingly bare room. I guess no one could really think of anything to do with it. From what I've heard from my teammates so far, we're not exactly on planning on settling down here.
Next off I encounter a smaller room who's sole occupant seems to be a couch, back to me. I pause, hearing the barely audible breathing of my quarry. So this is where he's run to hide.
"Sometimes I think your issues FAR surpass my own." I state, leaning over the back of the couch. Startled violet eyes meet my own before narrowing defensively. Talk about role-reversals. I guess last night was my turn to be paranoid and unresponsive, now it's his. A slight frown creases my forehead; he WAS the one to kiss me...
Aya's scowl deepens. "You're invading my space." He finally states, unable to come up with a better dismissal. His lips tighten and my eyes are drawn to his mouth, instantly replaying the brief kiss, urging me to go back to where we left off. I lower my eyelids, blocking the site as I try to reign myself in. Gods, but it's been a long time. Here I am lusting after AYA of all people. That's about as sane as finding nuns to be desirable. No way, no how.
I consider leaping over the back of the couch as I normally would, have a brief internal conversation with my body and settle for walking around the side. I settle down next to Aya. "Look. I don't want things to go awry between us. We're teammates, we four against the world. We can't be hating each other, especially not now, when we don't even have a real home anymore."
In an unexpected, almost childish gesture, Aya sighs, slumps and then grasps for my arm. Silence, but none of the pent up frustration and upset in the air this time. Carefully I slide my arm back and clasp his dry palm. "Can we at least have a truce then?" I ask, searching his face.
He smiles back, unexpectedly. The smile fades and his eyes lower again. I sigh. "We're all really falling apart here, aren't we?" I whisper, not expecting a reply.
That's when Aya decides it would be a good time to kiss me again. Funny how his mind works, even funnier how ready I am to accept it all. He's artless with inexperience but surprisingly willing to give it his all. Nothing but pure lust now, my teeth nip at the corner of his mouth before parting his lips with my tongue, thrilling at the slick heat. His heartbeat quickens beneath my palm.
The kiss intensifies as the seconds pass. His hands tangle in my sleep-mussed hair, kneading my scalp while I explore his mouth, tongue slicking across his. The low breathy moans of response send shivers down my spine. Slowly, so slowly he doesn't notice, I start to lever him backwards, taking the upper hand. What else would Youji Kudou the Seducer of Innocents do? Gods, I could die like this, kissing this warm pliant mouth, sucking on that delectable lower lip, sliding my hands up his bare, searing skin. He starts under my fingertips, but settles again as they rough across his nipples, pushing him all the way down.
His legs part for me, hot erection against hot hard erection. It seems natural to rock my hips against his, natural to swallow his muffled gasp. His hips buck right back against mine and I find myself hating the borrowed pants blocking me from real, raw skin. I can't concentrate, my mind falling into shadows as my deprived and needy body takes over. Aya certainly has no complaints as I finally break our kiss and trail tiny nips down his neck, pausing to lap at the hollow of his throat. I can physically feel the muted groan in his throat resonating through my skull.
I start trailing wet, slow, sucking, open mouthed kisses down along his chest, my hips slowing and then stopping, chuckling at Aya's softly voiced protests.
"Youji! What are you- Mmmm..." He trails off as my mouth closes over his nipple. I lash my tongue across the hardened nub of flesh, sucking lightly. Aya practically melts, kneading increasingly at my scalp like a pleased cat. Gods, I could make him purr, I could make him scream my name. I turn to his other nipple, repeating the process, backing away fractionally to blow cool air over the stiff nub, gently rolling its neglected companion between fingertips.
Underneath me, he rears up, flipping me to the bottom, initiating a harsh, almost violent clash of lips and teeth and hot tangling tongues. His hips forcefully grind against mine, rapidly focusing all my attention on the juncture between my thighs. Gods, if he'll just keep this up... Little tremors run through me as I thrust back up, hungry for the much-missed rush of an orgasm. Teasingly, my fingernails rake down his sides. He hisses sharply and retaliates with a few well-aimed snaps of his hips. I throw my head back and gasp, tingles shivering down my entire body, too-long hair trying to stand on end.
"Nnn, fuck, Aya. Don't you dare stop." I mumble against the silk flesh of his shoulder. He wants to play top-dog right now, no problemo. Just as long as he doesn't stop. Control rapidly slipping, I bite down on his shoulder, thrilling at his guttural murmuring. Gods, the things he's whispering in my ear, the invitations are enough to make me light headed.
All I want is him, pinned down under me, muscles straining towards mine as I slide into his tight hot body, his breath thundering in my ear as his nails claw furrows down the length of my back.
So close, just a few more seconds. Don't stop. Gods, the pleasure is overwhelming, it's been so long, just want release, but it keeps building. He's hard, grinding against me, skin burning but smooth to a touch. His lips find mine again, fingers tangle in my wandering ones. Unbearable, so very close, shudders shaking me, tears leaking from under closed eyelids. Oh fuck, I need this, need to knock him back, need to be inside, to feel that velvet clutching me tight as I finally give in and come. So close, please, so close, I could die like this.
I struggle to regain the upper hand. This is my game, not his. When he won't give in easily and let me sit up, I heave upwards and knock us both off the couch, using his surprise to my advantage and coming out on top, literally. He thrashes, determined to win this match, but I've got him off balance. My hands greedily stroke down his exposed torso, pushing down cloth when they encounter his waistband. Aya's lost, face tilted up, eyes dark closed slits, breath coming in harsh, raw sobs. Gods, that face, I swoop down for a demanding kiss, sucking his distracted tongue into my mouth, reinstating my dominance. This is MY ball game. Fuck, I can't stop. I don't want to stop. I close my own eyes, dissolving into everything around me.
"Hey! Youji! I'm heading out now! Are you sure you don't have anything specific you want me to pick up for you to eat?" Ken hollers from the stairwell. Talk about throwing ice water on a guy. Aya freezes, eyes snapping open, then before I even have time to back off myself, knowing that look in his eyes, he scrambles upright, knocking me over in the process. I grumble as he turns for flight.
"If you go out there, then not only will Ken see you, but he'd have a pretty good guess of what you were up to." I state calmly, he freezes again, poised for flight. How like him. "I think he might notice the big bulge in the front of your pants, no? He's not entirely stupid." I grin, admiring the view.
I deliberately glide my eyes up and down his body, immediately slipping back into playboy mode with the reintroduction to sex still playing on my frazzled nerves. Aya, sex, Aya, sex. Odd words to use one right after another, but right now, looking at his flushed face, his ruffled hair, his heaving chest, those two words are starting to seem like a pretty good combination.
"Youji? Are you still down here?" Ken calls again. I sigh, running trembling fingers through my hair.
"Yeah, just came back here to get some rest where no one could thump around and bother me. I still don't want anything specific to eat. Thanks though." I force a false note of sleepy gratitude into my voice, knowing my voice will carry well in this airy new home.
"Well, all right then, get plenty of rest, Youji!"
I hear the front door open and then slam close. I watch amethyst eyes dart back and forth between my face and the door. Scared, on the edge of fleeing. Welcome to the club, Aya. I run fingers through my hair again, trying to settle my thoughts into some order as arousal starts to partially cool.
Being my usual eloquent self, I finally give in and sigh. "What exactly was that all about?" I meet his stare with a frank one of my own. Gods, this is all so, for lack of a better description, fucked up. One second Aya's hating me, the next he's doting on my disoriented emotions, and then we're going at each other like animals in heat.
He wants to bolt, just forget everything that happened. I'm sure he could too, if I'd let him. This is more than a little confusing. I continue to focus on his face, waiting for a reaction of any sort. Nothing, his expression is blank, vision focusing on something over my shoulder.
I gingerly rise to my feet, body protesting my earlier vigor, and the lack of care I showed it. Aya inches back a step.
"You run away now, and I'll hunt you down and kick your ass." I caution, taking a few shaky steps closer. "And don't think I can't or won't." It's meant as a joke, but I don't smile, and neither does he.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
See, and there you were thinking you got a full lemon this early in the game! Well, a teaser is better than nada! Write to me, complain or something! I crave e-mails. I crave feedback! darkhunter@ijustdontcare.com or akainobaka@mchsi.com Take your pick!