Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Falling ❯ Substitutions ( Chapter 2 )

Falling

Fan fic by: Omni-sama

Part 2: “Substitutions”

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Ratings, disclaimer, etc. found in first chapter

NOTE: While the first chapter was Ran POV, this is Yohji POV. Ok, that is all.

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I lean out the window a little, resting my elbows on the ledge. It's a rather brisk late afternoon, but it shows signs that winter's edging away into the start of spring. Time passes quickly sometimes, I think. Though sometimes it moves slower than a turtle stuck in glue. How long has it been? How long has it been since she died? Then again, since which time that she died? Either way it doesn't matter. It's been long enough. I should take off my black mourning veil and get the fuck over it. At least, that's what I tell myself. But saying and doing are two different things, really.

 

Omi's starting to look worried about me. Well, more worried than usual. He keeps telling me that he's there for me if I need him or if I need to talk about anything. I don't think he understands why the nightmares are coming back. Then again, that could be because I don't understand either. So what good would it be for me to seek him out and talk about it? It'd just be the same old story, which I'm sure he doesn't want to hear again and I know I don't want to tell again. I'm not sure what's triggering it now, though. For a while it went dormant, only to reemerge suddenly and without warning. And it keeps getting worse. They come almost every night now, and they keep getting more and more vivid. It just doesn't make any fucking sense. Why again? Why now?

 

A familiar engine roar draws my attention down to the street just in time to see Ken zipping off on his motorcycle to God knows where. Maybe just another little scenic ride. He likes those. I pull back from the window long enough to grab a cigarette and my lighter. Once it's lit, I hold the cigarette between my lips as I lean out the window again. Yeah, it's going to be a nice night tonight. Perhaps I should go out. I don't really feel like sitting around the house again. I've been doing that way too much recently. Makes me feel like Aya.

 

My eyes flick towards his window and I lean out of mine a little more in order to get a better look. It's dark in there. He's probably downstairs. He's a strange one, that Aya. I never can figure him out. That's rare for me. I was an amazing detective, if I do say so myself. I can figure out just about anyone, crack just about any case…if I really set my mind to it, that is. I've had my mind set to figuring Aya out for years and I still have next to zip. Well, that's not true. I know his name is Ran, I know he did everything for his sister, I know he's intelligent but headstrong, and I know he doesn't love that Sakura girl as anything more than a second sister. But those are things that everyone knows about him. Or, at least everyone inside Weiss…and Sakura.

 

I want to know other things. I want to know what makes that man tick, besides his sister. Does he ever think of anything besides missions, killing, and Aya-chan? He has to. I know he has to. No one is that…inhuman. Well… No, that's not a good word for it. His love for his sister is proof of his humanity, if nothing else. But, seriously, she can't be the only thing he loves…

 

Ah fuck it… I don't want to think about him right now. Every time I start to think about him, I get way too distracted by the subject. And who wouldn't? Fuck, setting aside that he's a hard case to crack, he's incredibly fuckable. Like make a man beg just to taste him fuckable. What I wouldn't give to get that man in my bed for at least one night. Maybe if I manage to drive him wild with passion he'll tell me all his deep dark secrets. Then I'll have my case solved and my desires fed all in one. Two birds with one stone, as they say. Only problem is that I fear getting addicted to him. I have an addictive personality… Meaning I get hooked on things very easily. Smoking, sex, and in a lesser degree alcohol. Got it from my old man, the rat bastard. Anyway, considering this, I think it would be very easy to get hooked on Aya. After all, my thoughts already seem…to…

 

Fucking hell. I did it again. I said I was going to stop thinking about him and think about something else instead, but what am I still doing? I'm thinking about him. And now my cigarette is almost burnt down to the filter but I haven't really even been smoking it. Goddammit.

 

Spitting the ruined cigarette out, I watch it fall to the pavement below. The glow of its tip remained visible the entire way, which is a good sign that night's nearly here. As if the whole lack of direct sunlight wasn't a big clue. Giving off a little snort, I continue to stare down at the cigarette and its tiny little amber glow. I can barely see it from this distance, but it's there. I stop leaning out the window again in order to fetch another cigarette and my lighter. This time, I lean back out before I have it lit, playing with the lighter and the cigarette instead. I flick the flame on and hold the cigarette up to it, catching it on fire and twisting it to make the fire spread. Yeah, I'm wasting a perfectly good cigarette, but I don't care. I'm bored and this is amusing me. I don't really have anything better to do besides hang out this window and play with fire, anyway. Wait, no… I was going to go out, wasn't I?

 

“Yohji, what are you doing? You're going to catch fire.”

 

Shit! Aya's unexpected voice startles me so that I slip and burn my fingertips on the flame before dropping the burning cigarette in pain. Turning my head, I see that he's leaning out of his window a little and giving me a strange look. It almost seems to say “Why are you such a fucking idiot, Kudou?” Yeah, his face talks sometimes. It has to, because he sure as hell doesn't.

 

“Hey, Aya.” Oh yeah, check out my smooth conversational skills. At this rate, I'll have him between my sheets within minutes. And goddammit, Yohji, stop thinking about fucking him for just two goddamn seconds, ok?

 

“Hey,” he nods. “So, what the hell were you doing? Trying to burn the building down?”

 

“Yes, of course,” I smirk, “Because everyone knows that trying to ignite the building from the concrete exterior is the best method.”

 

He chuckles. He…chuckles!? Aya chuckles? At my jokes? Since when? The fuck is going on here, and who the fuck is that man that looks exactly like Fujimiya Aya but with a smile? Also, would this seemingly more pleasant pod person with Aya's body be willing to fu—goddammit, Yohji, shut the hell up about that! Think with the big head…on your neck.

 

“Just be careful, ok. So, you going to stay in tonight?” Why is Aya being so chatty? More importantly, why is Aya expressing concern for my wellbeing? Something isn't right. I feel my eyes narrow in suspicion, but do my best to keep a pleasant smirk in place.

 

“No, I thought I'd go out tonight, actually. I was just wasting time until it was late enough to head out. The later crowd's always the most fun, you know.” And now his smile's gone. Just like that. His face starts to don his usual mask, and he gives a little nod of understanding. What the fuck just happened here? Did I say something wrong? Oh… Wait… I see. That's right, how could I forget? He never liked my clubbing or barhopping. He always disapproved of my hedonistic behavior. So, of course he'd be unhappy to hear that I was going to engage in more of said behavior tonight.

 

“Ah.” And that's it. That's all he says before he pulls back from his window and shuts it. Well, if that wasn't one of the oddest fucking encounters with him I've ever had…

 

Whatever… I think I'll go get ready to go, even though it's still early. I don't think I have the patience to wait for the late crowd tonight. So, let's see… What shall my attire of choice be for this evening? I think we'll go with the tight, green V-neck with the dangerously low and tight black denim. Yeah, sounds good. Nothing too flashy, but still demanding attention. Dressed and restless, I head downstairs and give Omi a parting smile and wave before running out the door. And I do seem to be running… For some reason I feel compelled to get out of that place and fast. I don't really know why.

 

Once out and in Seven, however, I don't feel rushed to get anywhere. I cruise around for a bit, trying to decide which place I'd like to visit tonight while at the same time trying to clear my head of a certain violet-eyed icicle. Eventually I pull into a parking spot and enter the nondescript building. I go down stairs and hallways and turn corners until I enter the small club. It's one of the quieter ones that I like to visit sometimes. There's a large bar area to one side, low and comfortable chairs and tables making an L along two of the three remaining walls, and a small area for those who feel up to dancing. A cozy little dive, really. It's just what I need tonight, I think.

 

A few hours are killed by chatting casually with some familiar faces while having a couple of drinks. I make sure not to drink too much, because I prefer to drive home instead of take a cab. Eventually I grow tired of idle chat and feel the urge to find a nice warm body to entertain myself with for the next few hours. Sex is right up there with cigarettes as far as my addictions go. They both provide a high and a kind of warmth that I can't get anywhere else. Both of the addictions got worse after Asuka died and my profession changed. The nights got colder until I needed to find someone—anyone—to warm them up again. And during the day, when I can't have sex to keep me warm, I turn to cigarettes. Or alcohol. But it's usually more acceptable to take a cigarette break than it is to down a few shots.

 

Anyway, one of my addictions is demanding attention, and considering that I have a glass of scotch in one hand and a cigarette in the other, there's only one addiction left to feed. I scan the room as I take a sip of my scotch, considering what I'm in the mood for tonight. I don't feel like having a woman tonight, but it's for that reason that I probably should. He needs to get out of my head, and what better way to overwrite him than with the presence of an obviously female body? And there is quite a selection here…

 

There's that girl in the corner with the silver shirt. Good height, excellent body, and breasts that are so round and perky that I'd never tire of touching them. Too bad her face could use some work… Alright, next girl… Ah, now that's a pretty face. But dear God, what happened to her ass? Did she stuff it with a sheep? Ok, moving on… Nice tits, ass, and face…but she dresses like a cheap hooker. Very well could be, actually… Dammit… No, no…she's cute but no… Fuck. I'm running out of choices here…

 

“You seem troubled.” My head snaps to the side at the sound of that deep voice. For a second, I thought it was Aya. It's not, but… Damn! He could be Aya's stuntman if he wanted to. I hadn't even noticed him sit down, but… Sitting in the chair beside me is a man that looks like he's Aya's long-lost brother. His body is so incredibly similar, though not nearly as pale. Even his nose and mouth are similar. Not exactly the same, mind you, but very close. It's the eyes that throw the look off, though. They're not tilted quite the same way, are a dark brown, and look way more cheerful. The hair's not the same style or anything, either. But it's got a similar messy-but-hot look. It even has some red in it, but not much. There's just some very dark red highlights blended amongst the natural jet black.

 

Shit… This is not good. My addiction is telling me that it wants to be fed by him tonight. That wasn't the plan, goddammit. Maybe if I ignore him, he'll go away… Yeah…maybe… Let's just ignore the fact that he's already witnessed me drooling all over him, while at the same time he's been checking me out with quite an appreciative air. If we pretend none of that happened, and ignore him, then maybe he'll go away…

 

“What's your name?” That was my voice, wasn't it? Shit.

 

He smiles, and goddamn if it doesn't make me harder. He's smiling with Aya's mouth, after all. I hope Aya's ok without his mouth tonight… Meh, he'll be fine… He doesn't use it much, anyway…

 

“Ran.”

 

I feel myself blink. He didn't just say…

 

“Come again?”

 

“My name's Ran. What's yours?”

 

God hates me. Or loves me. Or loves to hate me. This is too much. It's just too fucking much. There is no way this guy who looks like Aya's body double could also posses his name. No way in Hell. This is just creepy. I should go. I should just get up and walk out. I'll drive home, drink maybe an entire bottle of whisky, then hide under the covers until the world makes sense again. Not that the world ever made sense…

 

*****

 

So, I did walk out and go home. Somehow, though, I seemed to have forgotten I was supposed to do that alone. Funny, but I didn't think that when I said I'd crawl under the blankets that I had meant to do so while naked and with Aya's stunt double. I'm just glad that we didn't run into anyone between Seven and my room. I still haven't told anyone else that I'm bi, so that would be one shocker for them… But add to that the fact that I'm bringing a guy home to fuck that looks so much like Aya and bears his name… Well, it might reveal my little crush and be yet another shocker for them all. While the first one might not be so bad, I think the second one wouldn't be taken so well… Especially by the object of said crush. Heh… I say “crush” as if I'm some silly little high school girl. But I'm not sure what else to call it… I mean, it's not like I love him or any—AH!

 

Holy shit… Ran gives one fucking amazing blowjob. And he has Aya's mouth. So…does that mean that Aya would give one fucking amazing blowjob? Probably not… He's probably never kissed anyone, let alone sucked him off. Or…ate her out… Whatever it is he'd rather do… And how the hell am I still thinking while Ran does…THAT…to the head of my…oh…oh, that's nice…

 

“Fuck, Ran…” Mmm…and I'd like to fuck Ran. Not this Ran, but the real Ran. Well...I mean…this Ran is real, too…but… He's not my Ran. I mean… He's not Aya. Aya's not mine. But…

 

He moans around my cock, the vibrations making the experience even better, then pulls back and smiles at me. My hand's suddenly in his hair, urging him to continue. “Yohji… How do you want it? I'd really like to fuck you, but I'm totally up for you fucking me.” His smile turns into a devilish grin and he just barely flicks his tongue against the tip of the head. Fucking evil tease… Definitely my kind of sex partner.

 

“If you want to fuck me, then fuck me.” I'm beyond caring about the technical aspects now. I'm a little too distracted by how fucked up this all is, and also by how surprisingly good it feels despite that. I also really like how he goes back to blowing me while he gets me all nice and lubed up. My own moaning is flooding my ears, and every time his fingers brush against my prostate my hand tightens in his hair. Shit, this is good. He's good. Ran's good.

 

Ran… If I keep my eyes closed, it can be my Ran. It's his body and mouth, anyway… When the fingers and mouth leave me, though, I can't help but open my eyes and watch as he rolls a condom on and rubs some more of the lube over himself. I wonder if that's what Aya's cock looks like, too. I never really put that much thought into it… Sure, I've thought about what it'd be like to suck it, touch it, or be fucked by it, but I guess I never really considered what it would actually look like. Would it be long, short, thin, thick? Is he bigger than I am? This Ran isn't. He's just a little shorter, but by no means does that make him small. Considering I don't fuck guys nearly as often as I do women, and that I'm even more rarely the uke, I'm glad he took the time to stretch me for this.

 

Spreading my legs wide, I help him find where he needs to be, then press against him until he's inside. There's only a little burn from the stretching, but mostly it just feels really fucking good. Remind me again why I haven't done this in a while…?

 

I do my best to assist him in fucking me, flexing my abs to thrust my hips up against his each time he presses in. I reach back and grab at the pillows, the headboard, the sheets, anything I can to keep me in place and give me leverage. God, Ran feels good. Closing my eyes I again picture it to be the Ran I really wish it was. With one foot planted firmly on the mattress, I raise the other in order to wrap it around him in encouragement. That's it….faster…harder… Just like that. His name is being repeated over and over again, until I finally realize that I'm the one saying it. Distantly I hear his voice gasping praises and murmuring about how hot I am. That deep voice…so fucking much like his. It really is almost as if it's him doing this to me now. It only takes that thought and the sudden feel of his hand around my cock to finally send me over the edge. He continues to pump me until I'm empty and the stroking feels uncomfortable and too much for me to take. I must have displayed my unhappiness for the continued action in either my face or voice, because he suddenly stops and uses both hands to grab my hips. After a few more hard thrusts he pauses and calls out my name while filling the reservoir tip of the condom.

 

As good as it was, I'm glad it's over. We don't cuddle or any bullshit like that. He just pulls out, smiles, and disposes of the condom. After a quick cleanup thanks to the pack of tissues by my bed, he's getting dressed and heading for the door. He pauses, though, and pulls out a pen and small address book from his pockets. Scribbling down something, he walks slowly towards the bed where I'm reclining against the headboard.

 

“Here.” He rips out the paper he was writing on and holds it out for me. Without thinking, I take it. What a surprise…it's his phone number. “Tonight was… It was great. Really fucking great. I've never been with anyone who's as…passionate…as you are.”

 

Well, that's a new one. “Passionate?”

 

He seems a bit unsure of himself suddenly, but only for a moment. The next thing I know, he's grinning and practically crawling on top of me on the bed. “Yeah,” he purrs…literally purrs… “The way you kept calling my name. No one's ever called my name like that before… If I didn't know any better, I'd almost say you cared for me as more than a casual fuck. However, I do know better. You're not the kind of guy that believes in love at first sight, nor am I.”

 

“You're right, I'm not. I suppose I let myself get carried away like that because it's just…been awhile, ya know? I'm mostly a ladies' man.” Now please stop crawling over me and just fucking leave already…

 

The man has the nerve to smirk and even let out a short chuckle before moving away to stand once more. “If you say so… I'll let myself out, if that's ok?”

 

I wish it were, but it's not. Damn security system and the necessity to have it always on… Sighing, I drag myself out of bed and pull a robe on. “I'll walk you out.” Of course, he grins at that, probably thinking I'm doing it because I just can't bear to be parted from him and want to drag our encounter out even longer. Hell, he's probably going to go home thinking that he must be one hell of a lover to make me so “passionate” when he fucks me. If only he knew that it had nothing to do with him or his skills and everything to do with the man next door who shares his name and similar features.

 

Goddammit… I should have picked a woman tonight.

 

Somehow I manage to get him out and myself back in bed without incident. “Incidents” being one of the others seeing us, or me punching the guy in the jaw to get him to stop grinning. Yeah, it was good, but not that good. Seriously, I've had better. And I'd also like to think I give better. Maybe I should have been the one on top tonight…

 

Anyway… None of that matters now. It's time for sleep, and sleep which will hopefully be nightmare-free. The chances of that are slim to none, but a guy can always hope. So, I cuddle up to the pillow, inhale the delicious smell of fresh sex, and let myself drift off.

 

*****

 

NO!

 

What?... Shit… Fucking nightmares… Another morning where I wake up sitting on the bed panting. Great. I swear, if I didn't need sleep to function, I'd totally give it up.

 

But…

 

Something was…different…in this nightmare… I can't remember exactly what it was, though. Something felt…off. I just… Fuck, I hate it when I try to focus on a dream after I've woken up, only to have it fizzle away and leave me grasping at air. Oh well, perhaps it's for the best. After all, I still feel the remnants of terror from that one. Must have been a doozy.

 

Well, no time to dwell on that stuff. I have to get down and help open up the shop. I shower and dress in a hurry, then do my best not to stumble down the stairs. Heading into the kitchen, I spot Omi putting some rice into the cooker. Mmm, breakfast. I wonder what he's going to fix to go with the rice…

 

“Hey there, Omittchi. What's cooking?” Well, I seem to have startled the poor thing. He just jerked and scattered some of the rice. Huh. Maybe he should lay off the caffeine in the morning. Speaking of which… Detour to the coffee pot…

 

“Oh! Good…um…morning, Yohji.”

 

My hand stills on the pot's handle. Ok, he's more than just startled. He's nervous and uncomfortable. And it's because of me. What did I do? He didn't see me with Ran last night, did he? I didn't think anyone spotted us coming or going, but maybe he had seen us through a crack in the door or security footage or…shit, you know…I totally forgot about the security footage. Hm. Well, whatever it is, it needs to be set out in the open. There's no way I'm going to play this “Let's be awkward” game all damn day. “What's wrong, Omi?”

 

The kid suddenly finds picking up rice grains very captivating, it seems. Though as enthralling as the activity is, he manages to respond to my question. Of course, he won't raise his head to look at me as he does so… “Yohji, are you and Aya-kun…um…together now?”

 

Woah. That was not the response I was anticipating. Why the hell would he even think that? “What? No. Of course not.” In a desperate attempt to act calm and normal, I reach for a mug and pour myself some nice hot coffee.

 

“But um… Last night… I heard…”

 

And spill the nice hot coffee all over my hand and the counter. At least Omi manages to tear himself away from his action-packed grain picking to help me after I start screaming profanities from the searing pain shooting through my hand. He gets me to the sink and starts running water over the mild burn, hushing me and trying to tell me that it'll be ok. Then he's running out of the room to get the first aid kid with the burn soothing ointment stuff, and I'm left alone with my hand under running water and my mind spinning like mad.

 

So… If Omi could hear me and his room is two over… Then Aya, who's room is on the other side of the wall that my bed's against… Oh. Fuck. This is not good. This is not good at all. I'm screwed. Totally screwed. And not in the sense I'd want to be! Shit…how am I going to handle this? Maybe he didn't hear… Maybe he slept through it. Yeah, maybe he's a really heavy sleeper. Oh, who the fuck are you kidding, Yohji? He's a trained fucking assassin! Do you think he's going to be anything but a light sleeper? Idiot…

 

“Yohji, is something wrong with your hand?” Aya's standing in the doorway, expression unreadable and eyes on the hand that's still under the faucet.

 

Better make that a dead idiot… Because that concern can't be genuine. Any moment now he's going to whip out his katana and filet me. He's only pretending to be concerned so that I'll let my guard down…let him get close…and then it's all over for Kudou God-I-Want-You-Aya Yohji. That's it. The end. No more cigarettes or scotch or sex. But hey, at least there won't be anymore nightmares… That's a plus. I just hope he makes it quick and painless.

 

He enters the kitchen and slowly steps up to me. I should run. I know I should run. Just because I can't see a katana doesn't mean it's not there. Or he could use a knife. We are in a kitchen, after all…plenty of weapons to be found. And me without my gloves. Not that I'd be able to fight back… No… I don't think I could bring myself to fight back and risk hurting him. So, I'll take it like a man. If he wants to beat the shit out of me, let him. If he wants to kill me, let him. I can take it.

 

“Let me see your hand. What happened?” Ok… This has to be a trick. He gently takes my arm and pulls my hand out of the spray in order to examine it. Tisking softly, he looks at it from several angles before releasing me. It's then that he notices the coffee spilled all over the counter, and since I'm not supplying any information he goes ahead and puts two and two together in his head. He's a bright boy, that Aya. “You spilled scalding hot coffee all over your hand? Yohji, you need to be more careful. You need to have full use of your hands.”

 

“Don't worry,” I reply dumbly. I can seriously feel myself slipping into a mild form of shock…or false security. Maybe he didn't hear me after all… “After applying some ointment and taking it easy, I should be more than ok to use my wire by the next time I need to.”

 

There's a smirk forming on his lips that seems out of place. It blows away any of Ran's suggestive expressions from last night, even though it's almost the exact same pair of lips. Now I'm worried. “I don't just mean for fighting, Yotan.” I think I heard the sound just now of my jaw hitting the floor.

 

“Aya?” This is Aya, right? Maybe he really is a pod person…

 

The smirk gives way to a look of contemplation. He hms softly to himself and walks over to the refrigerator. “You know,” he says rather conversationally as he opens the fridge and pulls out a bottle of juice, “I think it's about time I start going by my real name.”

 

He can't be serious… Wait… Fuck… Is this because of last night? He did hear me, didn't he… I knew it…I'm dead…

 

“What do you think, Yohji?” The look he casts me over his shoulder is smoldering. But smoldering from desire or hatred, I can't tell. I think I'm starting to feel a little panicky…

 

“A-Aya?...”

 

Ever so slowly he closes the fridge and turns to fully face me again, the same smirk from earlier slowly twisting its way across his mouth. “Call me Ran.”

 

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To be continued…