Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ How to Get Killed in Ten Easy Screw-Ups ❯ One--It Begins ( Chapter 1 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: KD Sarge 
Yohji plays a prank.
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy / Hentai | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 08.02.2006 | Pages: 1 | Words: 508 | Visits: 785 | Status: Work In Progress
Yohji plays a prank.
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy / Hentai | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 08.02.2006 | Pages: 1 | Words: 508 | Visits: 785 | Status: Work In Progress
Because Phoenix is insane. It’s why we get on so well.
*****
It started innocently enough.
Well, simply, anyway. It was all Omi’s fault.
He was just too cute when he was flustered.
“Omittchi,” Yohji called over the cooing of fangirls, “that package is for you.”
“This one, Yohji-kun?” the boy asked, picking up the flat box from the register counter.
“Yeah. It goes in that wreath you’re working on.”
“It does?” the boy frowned as he tugged at the simple wrapping. With a wink and a nod, Yohji directed the girls’ attention to the work table. Omi fought the recalcitrant wrapping until he jerked it open, something sparkly flew into the air. With an assassin’s reflexes the boy caught—a pair of fluffy pink padded handcuffs.
Fangirls squealed and rushed. Omi stood dumbfounded, the restraints swinging from his fingers. Yohji laughed till he fell over. And when Omi attempted a glare, he laughed harder. He endured Aya shi-ne glares morning noon and night, and sometimes at 3 a.m., no way was the perky little chibi going to frighten him.
Speaking of death-glares—Aya stepped out of the greenhouse, arrangement in hand, gorgeous eyes taking in the scene. He stiffened at seeing Yohji on the floor, until he realized the blonde had put himself there. Then he moved silently to rescue Omi.
“Buy something!” he roared from the middle of the mob, “Or leave!”
Yeah, that would work, since it never had before. His lover realized it, he directed his glare at the only one capable of doing anything about the fangirls ever. Yohji sighed, picked himself up and dusted himself off, and re-directed the young ladies out the door.
Could he help it the best way to do that, was with jokes about Omi’s secret life? Not the archer one—the one involving the handcuffs.
When the last one was out the door, Aya took the handcuffs, shot Yohji a look that made his blood boil, and went back into the greenhouse. Omi stood as he had been the whole time, blushing pinker than the roses in the wreath he’d been making.
“Yohji-kun,” he finally whispered. “That was Miko.”
“Which? And why?”
“Miko,” Omi said again, his voice despairing. Yohji slapped his shoulder.
“Don’t worry, Omi, girls like a guy who isn’t afraid to try new things.”
“You are going to pay, Kudou Yohji,” the boy hissed, before spinning on heel to storm out. Yohji stood blinking a moment.
Damn. The boy had sounded like Aya. That was...scary.
********
It started innocently enough...a random chat with Phoenix, flinging assassin practical jokes at each other...and it ended—here. There is, of course, more to come.
*****
It started innocently enough.
Well, simply, anyway. It was all Omi’s fault.
He was just too cute when he was flustered.
“Omittchi,” Yohji called over the cooing of fangirls, “that package is for you.”
“This one, Yohji-kun?” the boy asked, picking up the flat box from the register counter.
“Yeah. It goes in that wreath you’re working on.”
“It does?” the boy frowned as he tugged at the simple wrapping. With a wink and a nod, Yohji directed the girls’ attention to the work table. Omi fought the recalcitrant wrapping until he jerked it open, something sparkly flew into the air. With an assassin’s reflexes the boy caught—a pair of fluffy pink padded handcuffs.
Fangirls squealed and rushed. Omi stood dumbfounded, the restraints swinging from his fingers. Yohji laughed till he fell over. And when Omi attempted a glare, he laughed harder. He endured Aya shi-ne glares morning noon and night, and sometimes at 3 a.m., no way was the perky little chibi going to frighten him.
Speaking of death-glares—Aya stepped out of the greenhouse, arrangement in hand, gorgeous eyes taking in the scene. He stiffened at seeing Yohji on the floor, until he realized the blonde had put himself there. Then he moved silently to rescue Omi.
“Buy something!” he roared from the middle of the mob, “Or leave!”
Yeah, that would work, since it never had before. His lover realized it, he directed his glare at the only one capable of doing anything about the fangirls ever. Yohji sighed, picked himself up and dusted himself off, and re-directed the young ladies out the door.
Could he help it the best way to do that, was with jokes about Omi’s secret life? Not the archer one—the one involving the handcuffs.
When the last one was out the door, Aya took the handcuffs, shot Yohji a look that made his blood boil, and went back into the greenhouse. Omi stood as he had been the whole time, blushing pinker than the roses in the wreath he’d been making.
“Yohji-kun,” he finally whispered. “That was Miko.”
“Which? And why?”
“Miko,” Omi said again, his voice despairing. Yohji slapped his shoulder.
“Don’t worry, Omi, girls like a guy who isn’t afraid to try new things.”
“You are going to pay, Kudou Yohji,” the boy hissed, before spinning on heel to storm out. Yohji stood blinking a moment.
Damn. The boy had sounded like Aya. That was...scary.
********
It started innocently enough...a random chat with Phoenix, flinging assassin practical jokes at each other...and it ended—here. There is, of course, more to come.