Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Feeling Like a Fool ❯ Mission Accomplished and Balinese’s Impending Crisis ( Chapter 4 )

Title: Feeling Like a Fool [chapter 4 of 6]

 

Book 2 of the Realizations Arc

 

Author: Enigma (also known as “E-sama the Llama”)

 

Series: Weiss Kreuz

 

Rating: NC-17

 

Pairing for Lemon: Aya x Ken

 

Warnings: Yaoi, angst, violence, bloodshed, coarse language, past abuse, sexual triangle (Yohji/Ken/Aya), rough sex, detailed lemon. AU-OOC.

 

Disclaimer: “Weiss Kreuz” is the property of Koyasu Takehito and Project Weiss. All original characters, including Hanagawa Reiko, Kenji-kun, “Christie”, the unnamed drug dealer, etc. © Enigma, 2007. This unauthorized work of unpaid fanfiction is intended for entertainment only.

 

//internal thoughts//

 

 

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Before long, the four deadly Weiss cats were on the prowl yet again.

 

Zooming through the drizzly mist, Aya and Ken rode together silently in the boring little coupe that the swordsman was currently driving while Omi went with Yohji in the eye-catching forest green Seven. The two vehicles were eventually parked fairly close to one another at a moderate distance from the rendezvous point.

 

This strategic arrangement allowed the pretend pimp/prostitute pair to approach quite visibly even as the others melted into the anonymity of the humid night air. At the same time, however, the two assassins who had their weapons at the ready could provide back-up if the atypically unarmed members of their cadre ran into trouble.

 

Despite the initial turmoil back at the Koneko, once Omi was all dolled up in his now routine leather-n-lace transvestite outfit, his resemblance to an actual Tokyo streetwalker was more than enough to convince the villain that they sought. Abyssinian's weird “mission attire”, however, was another story entirely. Luckily, it wouldn't affect the outcome of their assignment one way or the other.

 

Where Kritiker came up with the costumes that Weiss occasionally had to wear was an endless curiosity, but an authentic 1970's leisure suit must have really taken some searching.

 

The truly ugly purple polyester double-knit fabric that was doing a poor impression of merlot covered the unfortunate swordsman from wide collared jacket to broadly belled pants. Beneath this was a garish paisley shirt with more colors than a peacock would've felt comfortable displaying. The shirt was designed to be worn open well past the lower arch of the pectorals, but Aya had insisted on adding an ascot for the sake of his dignity. Manx's suggestion of pink for that failed to amuse him, but he wasn't allowed to refuse. The finishing touch had been the eponymous---though slightly anachronistic---raspberry beret.

 

Considering how hideous the entire effect was, the redhead had already considered burning the dreadful ensemble on the fourth floor patio near his bedroom as soon as he got home that very night. Granted, the in-house chef wouldn't appreciate him misusing the Koneko's one and only grill that way, but Aya didn't consider this sufficient reason not to torch it.

 

Much like the other bizarre outfits such as the airline uniforms and so forth which were needed for very specific types of missions, he'd had this monstrosity in a locker in the basement laundry room for months. Granted the lockers were filled with duplicates of all of their standard combat gear, too, but that went without saying. Aya had sincerely hoped to avoid ever putting the “Disco Pimp” outfit on, but now that he had, its destruction was only a matter of time.

 

Not doing a very good job of resembling a purveyor of pleasure in large part because his hideous outfit irritated him so badly, Abyssinian stood angrily off to one side as the fake drug deal soon went awry exactly as planned.

 

“Oh, no!” The disguised archer exclaimed right on cue as several tens of thousands of yen apparently danced away from his undecorated fingertips. The funds seemed to blow away on an errant breeze yet were actually being sent off in a very specific direction with the deceptive grace of an expert stage magician. Pretending to reach for the errant cash, he whimpered piteously, “I dropped my money!”

 

“Then go get it, bitch,” the target growled.

 

Faking an awkward loss of balance on the wet pavement, Bombay pretended to be unable to chase after the money in part due to the shiny black vinyl stiletto-heeled boots that went perfectly with his outfit. Huge, seemingly drug-needy cerulean eyes peered up at the dealer and slowly filled with patently false crocodile tears as he begged, “Help me? Please?”

 

Greed overcame wisdom as the villain snarled something vile and then shook his head as he stepped into the shadows to retrieve the lost loot himself.

 

“Gotcha,” Balinese's mission voice murmured as his wire looped around the man's larynx and was then jerked taut.

 

The hapless scoundrel struggled fiercely for only a moment, but once Siberian's claws ripped in through his chest and back out through his abdomen, death was swift. Considering the way some of the man's victims had suffered long, agonizing deaths, it was unjustly merciful.

 

“Well, that was easier than usual,” Yohji commented casually as he disentangled himself from the corpse that then slumped wetly to the ground near his boots.

 

Ignoring the horrific mess now spattered across his leather jacket, Ken crouched down and wiped some of the worst of the blood and guts from his bugnuks on the rapidly cooling carcass. With a slight frown, he then gazed upwards and said, “Sorry, Balinese. It looks like I got some skin or bone or other crap stuck in the mechanism this time.” He attempted to eject and then retract the claws several times, but they suddenly froze in the closed position bringing a scowl of disapproval to his expressive face.

 

“No problem, Siberian,” Yohji shrugged while reaching for a cigarette. The curve of his sensual lips was more than merely kind as he promised with a level of tenderness that he'd never meant to express openly, “You know I've always got your back, babe.”

 

Even as the tip of Yohji's Camel began to glow a warm, cherry red, Ken found himself smiling ever so slightly.

 

The two of them had just eliminated yet another villain who could bring no further evil to the streets of Tokyo. The aromatic stench of the deceased drug dealer's severed bowels made that fact undeniable. Yet the response that he'd just received carried with it a vow of sorts that brushed warmly against what Ken considered an immature part of himself that still craved the love which he truly needed at a soul-deep level.

 

Luminous brown eyes shaded almost black by pupils dilated fully in the darkness caught and held smoldering, deeply verdant ones for only a moment. When they did, Yohji's good natured demi-smile echoed Ken's expression. The brief, caring connection that temporarily formed served to gently remind each of them how much their relationship had changed recently.

 

For better or for worse, this brief bonding moment that had gone unnoticed by their teammates was then lost as Ken rose to his booted feet once more.

 

Somewhat shaken by his own powerful reaction to something as simple as a shared glance, Yohji took a deep, needy drag on his Camel while pointedly trying to not look as Ken pulled off his jacket. With an expression of obvious distaste, the teen then tried to swipe away some of the disgusting substances that were befouling its typically pleasant, chestnut-colored surface. This caused the former athlete's muscular torso to ripple appealingly in the minimal light and Yohji tried even harder not to watch.

 

The once carefree playboy failed.

 

Carefully hiding his stare behind long, dark blond locks, Yohji sighed and wondered what was wrong with him all of a sudden. On the other hand, he and Ken had just shared a well orchestrated kill and he was certainly not immune to the strong effect the resultant adrenaline rush had on him. The later being something which he hoped to resolve with the soothing nicotine that he now inhaled even more desperately.

 

In any case, he'd pushed his young lover past the brink three times already that day. Wasn't that enough sex until tomorrow?

 

After retrieving the wayward cash without any trouble whatsoever, Omi kicked the corpse with the toe of one of his stilettos and muttered angrily, “Good riddance. As if a first-rate tranny can't walk any place she wants to go in these things! Honestly.” With an unintended flourish, he swept tendrils of his obviously fake, bright pink wig from the corner of his mouth and said, “I'm glad I didn't waste my time doing my nails after all. This moron was a rank amateur.”

 

Left out of the postmortem discussion as well as the vast majority of the mission, the purple-clad Abyssinian stalked closer to the others and reported, “All clear.” His stance practically vibrated with unreleased tension as he commanded, “Bombay, Balinese, head back to base. Siberian and I will dispose of the body.”

 

“Rodger dodger,” Yohji answered playfully and added a mock salute which garnered him a level ten death glare. Answering with a stern scowl of his own, he crushed his spent cigarette against a boot heel while advising tersely, “Geez, Abyssinian, lighten up.”

 

“I said… Head. Back.” When addressing his own subordinates, the Weiss field leader's voice only rarely dropped as low or as dangerously as it did when he punctuated his instructions with the word, “Now!”

 

Hoping to avoid intra-team bloodshed, Ken physically intervened between his two partners and said quickly, “They're leaving now, aren't you, guys?” Big brown eyes pleaded with Yohji and Omi to just get going. He well knew that Aya desperately hated being left out of the action the way that he had been just now, so minimizing the minor crisis was truly the better part of valor.

 

Clearly preferring to fight than to stand down, especially now that Ken stood between them, Yohji seemed about to disagree.

 

Before things could get even worse, Omi grabbed the older blond by the arm and pulled him away saying, “C'mon, let's go.” He didn't allow the much taller man to use his height advantage to change directions even as he added with a whisper, “Please, Yohji-kun! Couldn't you see how worried Ken-kun was?”

 

Glancing back over his shoulder and seeing the other two already vanishing into the misty darkness, concern filled dangerously narrowed green eyes as Yohji answered cryptically, “Maybe that's what I'm afraid of.”

 

Whether Omi actually heard this or not was uncertain, but Yohji allowed himself to be dragged back to the roadster and the two soon settled in beneath its rarely used convertible top. Within moments the eldest and youngest members of Weiss left the scene with an angry squeal of tires which was noted by at least one of those left behind.

 

Hearing the audible expression of his elder partner's clear displeasure, Ken winced visibly yet said nothing as he and his other partner dumped the drug dealer's eviscerated body into a nearby dumpster.

 

Unaware of much beyond his own limited concerns, Aya affixed a tracking device to the trash container and activated it, silently informing Kritiker of the rather specific form of rubbish that needed to be picked up immediately. A team of evidence collectors would, of course, be standing by, and the grisly task would be completed without further notice.

 

The sounds of perfectly normal, inner city life continued to echo unabated around them from busier streets not far away, yet the two assassins remained silent as they made their way covertly back to where Aya had parked his car.

 

Well aware of the way that other equally frustrating missions had ended in the last ten days, Ken found his pulse speeding up while his mind raced in circles wondering if Aya was going to wordlessly demand sex from him again or not.

 

//If he doesn't want it from me tonight, I'll be shocked.//

 

Biting back a groan of need that he himself felt after just thinking such things, Ken adjusted the burgeoning erection that threatened to distend the crotch of his battle jeans. This distracted him for only a moment, but it was long enough for Aya to suddenly grab him and pull him into the added darkness of the entry alcove of a nearby building.

 

Once again sloppy yet slightly more proficient kisses assaulted Ken's mouth. The vague improvement was hardly noticeable, yet he found it somewhat encouraging. So, instead of fighting or merely tolerating them, the brunette tried to actually kiss back.

 

The pair had only come careening together sexually three times so far, yet it had been enough to teach Aya at least a little of what men his age usually already knew.

 

The truth behind Aya's seemingly unforgivable ignorance was tragic, yet perfectly reflected the sexual confusion which had been fostered by his upbringing. Raised in the old-fashioned home of a banker who had a preference for the outdated traditional paper walls which meant no privacy, the boy who had been named Fujimiya Ran had been stifled in many ways.

 

His greatest problems had revolved around his bubbly and thoroughly vivacious younger sister, Aya, who had never once understood that young boys generally learned about their sexual sides in private. She tended to simply dash into his bedroom with little or no warning on a regular basis, so he'd never had the opportunity to even gain much proficiency at self-gratification, bizarre though that was to even think about.

 

Worse, his prudish mother had once caught him masturbating in the bathroom, one of the few rooms with sufficiently thick walls that Ran felt he could do so without being overheard. Her threats to simply cut off the offending organ for fear his sister might witness so distasteful an act struck a chord too deeply for him to erase from his subconscious even after his parents' murders.

 

When he had enrolled in the local kendo dojo while in his mid-teens, Ran had discovered that he felt an intense sense of attraction for the other boys who were also students there. Under other circumstances, he might even have had the opportunity to explore his blossoming homosexual urges in this environment, especially in the locker room after his lessons. Regrettably, his overprotective mother insisted that he shower at home after working out supposedly to avoid athlete's foot and therefore he never had a chance to explore this new opportunity fully.

 

By the time Ran completed his high school studies, he was a well and truly closeted gay man who found himself sentenced to celibacy by virtue of his inability to escape the clutches of his family. At the time of his parents' deaths, he had been considering applying to a college where he might have gotten to know himself as well as the world better, but now it was too late.

 

After adopting his sister's name as his own during his quest for vengeance, the redhead had then found himself constricted by an entirely new set of circumstances.

 

If it hadn't been for Yohji and Ken's noisy lovemaking less than two weeks ago which had pushed him to a breaking point, he might not even have made as much progress as he had by now. Thus, Ken had unwittingly become Aya's teacher for the intimate lessons which were so long overdue, but there was much more to cover before their sensual curriculum would be complete.

 

Once more in the present, tenderness versus ferocity rarely means a win for the gentler side, but it seemed to help enough that by the time they broke for air, Ken still had the presence of mind to ask, “Do you need it, Aya?” His vision was at a disadvantage in the pitch black air between them as he asked more urgently, “Do you need me now?”

 

There was no mystery about what Ken was asking nor was there any space for misunderstanding that this was also the only form of consent that Aya would require even though he was too ignorant to even appreciate that level of courtesy. The typically wordless reply was the forceful impact of an engorged groin clothed in polyester against a denim-clad one.

 

The piercing amethyst gaze that stabbed its way through the murk and into earnest brown eyes clearly spoke of a need so deep that simple sex was never going to fill it, yet it was still better than nothing.

 

Without saying another word, Ken nodded his understanding.

 

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To be continued…