Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Kitchen Tryst ❯ Chapter 1

Interlude 7: Kitchen Tryst

Aya + Omi

Omi Tsukiyono groaned as he trudged into the kitchen, tugging the refrigerator door open to snag the OJ and a glass from the side cabinet. Plopping into a seat at the kitchen table, Omi studied his breakfast critically.

From across the room, the phone jingled off the hook.

Omi stared at it, willing it to stop. Thankfully, soon it did. However, not even five seconds later a voice called up from in the shop below.

"Yo, Omi! You awake up there? Phone for Aya!"

The blond teen sighed wearily, instinctively knowing there was no way Yohji was going to drag his lazy ass upstairs to wake their redhead companion, and Ken was probably working twice as hard to cover for Yohji's lack. So stretching, Omi dragged himself back upstairs, scratching his tummy as he began to climb, his boxer shorts riding low on his hips.

He rapped sharply on Aya's apartment door, waiting five seconds, knocked again, waited, and then called out, "Aya, telephone!"

He heard a thump from the other side of the door, but didn't wait long enough to see if Aya was actually getting up; instead, he headed back down for his orange juice.

Two minutes later, Aya emerged from the upper apartments, jeans slung low, first button unfastened. The grumbly morning person snatched the phone of the hook and literally growled, "Fujimiya."

Thirty seconds. Omi counted it. That's how long Aya was on the phone before he replied, "Understood," and hung up.

The redhead turned to look at Omi, who was now almost finished with his juice and had sustained enough sugar to be reasonably awake. Now it was time for actual food. Aya seemed to think so, too, because he reached forward across the table and snagged the remaining juice from Omi's glass, downing it quickly.

"Hey! That's mine!" the blond protested.

Aya raised an eyebrow at him questioningly. "And your point is?"

Fuming, the blond got up to check the fridge again, but the door resealed shut when a hand reached forward to close it in front of him. And then a solid, warm body pressed up against his back, molding itself to him.

"If you want it back so badly, you'll have to take it from me," a warm voice breathed against his ear.

Omi moaned, head falling forward to rest against the fridge even as his hips arched back against that deliciously hard warmth pressing against his ass. Hands traced across his chest, under the white tee shirt and back up again to tweak hard, pebbled nipples.

Omi cried out, his erection throbbing as he threw his head back, lips parted in litany. "Oh, gods, Aya. Fuck, please, I--"

His voice cut off when a hand dropped to his waist, fingers sliding easily beneath the waistband to slip around the blond boy's erection, squeezing and coaxing. There wasn't much coaxing needed; Omi was fully ready and alert. Lips nibbled his throat, nipping sharply in time to a rather forceful tug on his nipple and yank on his cock.

Omi cried out, wiggling in Aya's arms as the redhead continued to manipulate the blond's supple body, wreaking havoc wherever he went. It wasn't too hard to shove the boxer shorts off narrow hips and muscled legs anymore than it was difficult to shove his own jeans low enough to free his erection.

The blond shoved a hand into a drawer and came up with a handy tube of lubricant, pressing it into Aya's hands before bracing himself on the counter as the redhead slicked his cock with the cool gel. And then it was the delicious feel of being stretched as Aya entered him in one smooth *push*.

He arched back against the redhead, his fingers clawing into the countertop as his body was slammed into again and again. One of Aya's hands wrapped around his cock, stroking firmly and evenly, until Omi's climax built and spread, firing liquid orgasm throughout his body.

Behind him, Aya continued to thrust against him, until with a little grunt, the redhead came, spilling his seed inside Omi's relaxed and purring body.

Omi pillowed his cheek on his crossed arms on top of the countertop, one blue eye creased open to watch Aya.

With a shiver, the taller male pulled away, snatching a dishrag from the stove to wipe himself and his lover off before refastening his pants.

"I don't know why you bother leaving bed when you know I'm just going to hunt you down," he commented, opening the fridge to pull out the orange juice.

Omi was grinning like the cat who'd just enjoyed a bowl of rich, yummy cream. "'Cause I wanna see just how far you'll follow me to get into my pants," he retorted, winking at the redhead as he snagged another glass from the cabinet.

There was nothing like some OJ after sex.

~OWARI~

Zan: What no kitchen utensil fetishes? ^__^

Andrea: No, thank you. I think I'll pass...