Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Let's get it on ❯ It was a dark, stormy night ( Chapter 5 )

Yoji was disoriented. Something was poking at him, waking him up. And while that sort of thing usually pissed him off, he was really uncomfortable, so waking up didn't necessarily seem like such a bad idea, now that he thought about it. He opened one eye and saw Ken staring down at him from a great height. What the hell?

 

“The road to love is paved with toads,” Ken said, reaching out a hand to help Yoji up.

 

Oh, yeah. It all came back to him.

 

He let Ken haul him off the floor of the hallway, where he'd been lying in front of Aya's door.

 

“Not the most dignified situation, huh,” Ken offered conversationally, following Yoji into his room.

 

“No.”

 

“So, he turned you down, then?”

 

Yoji narrowed his eyes in annoyance.

 

Ken inspected the impressive bruise on Yoji's jaw. “Well, you know, for Aya, that could be foreplay.” He held up his hands in supplication. “Sorry.”

 

Yoji muttered darkly.

 

“This probably isn't the best time to remind you that you have a surveillance mission with him tonight, I guess.”

 

“And yet you do so with such ill-concealed glee.”

 

Ken smiled. “Don't worry, Yoji. You'll get through it. It's not like you've never been mad at him before.”

 

“This is different. This time it's personal.”

 

“Theoretically, I know I shouldn't pry. But what the hell happened?”

 

“Fuck you, that's what happened.”

 

“You may as well just tell me now and spare us both the trouble of making me goad you into it.”

 

“I tried to talk him into having sex with me. He declined. In his own inscrutable, violent way.”

 

“What did you say to him?”

 

“Actually, I got desperate enough to try your suggestion. I just asked him to fuck.”

 

Ken raised his eyebrows. “Well, they can't all be gems. I really would have expected Aya to appreciate the direct approach, though.”

 

“Not so much, it looks like.”

 

“Maybe it was your delivery.”

 

Yoji shot him a look of death.

 

“Well, you know the old saying.”

 

Yoji raised an eyebrow.

 

“Aya's nuts. Go figure.”

 

 

**********

 

 

Yoji was thoroughly disgruntled. He was sitting in a white delivery van, parked amid a flock of other white delivery vans in a parking lot of a building way the hell out on the outskirts of nowhere, waiting. Just sitting there for hours and hours and hours. Silent hours. Tense, uncomfortable hours. Watching to see who was going to show up, if anyone.

 

At least he had the passenger seat, since Aya had insisted on driving. Yoji was certain it was safe to read things into that, Aya always having to drive.

 

Yoji had volunteered for this stupid mission several days ago, when he'd still had hope. Aya had accepted it because it was all he could do until he healed more, and Yoji had accepted it because he would have actually paid for the opportunity to sit next to Aya all night. At the time.

 

Yoji'd had plenty of time to ruminate on how big a mistake he'd made in falling for his grim, challenging teammate. It was like being addicted to crack, but less satisfying. Enough was enough, though -- Yoji drew the line at being sucker-punched and left for dead in the hallway. He was going to move past this debacle and... something...

 

He kept getting distracted by Aya's profile in the moonlight, which he kept accidentally staring at. Aya's skin looked luminous, and although the drama of his coloring was masked, that face was more than enough to carry the show.

 

Aya wore his usual blank, brooding expression -- cold bastard. Cold, moody, sadistic bastard. He could have just said no, couldn't he?

 

The real question, of course, was why he hadn't just said yes. Or why he'd rescinded his yes -- because he might not have said it out loud, but he'd certainly consented.

 

This mission was going to drive him crazy. Nothing was happening, nothing was going to happen, and Aya was going to make them sit here staring silently at that damned building all night.

 

“How would it work?” Aya asked, apropos of nothing.

 

“Um -- what?”

 

“How would it work?” He turned to face Yoji, looking like he expected an answer.

 

Yoji sighed. This was the kind of thing that kept drawing him back in. Aya just didn't understand the rules of social interaction. He was a clueless, sociopathic dork and, God help him, Yoji couldn't resist that to save his life.

 

“What are we talking about, Aya?”

 

Aya frowned, leading Yoji to a sudden realization about how far he'd really come. Fairly recently, he'd have taken the frown to mean that Aya was annoyed with Yoji for being too stupid to read Aya's mind; now he knew the frown was an expression of Aya's intense annoyance at not being able to express himself. Heartening, that.

 

“Us,” Aya finally said. “I can't imagine it at all. And when I can't picture something, it makes me... uneasy.” Seeing Yoji's expression, he added defensively, “Look, it keeps me alive.”

 

Yoji shook his head, smiling. “You know, there would be nudity, sweat, gasping and moaning...”

 

Aya favored him with a fairly patient version of his “Christ, you're stupid” look. “The sex isn't what I'm worried about, Yoji.”

 

Meaning the part he was worried about was -- what? Yoji frowned.

 

Aya waited for his answer, apparently thinking he'd made himself clear.

 

“I'm sorry, Aya, I'm still not quite following you.”

 

Brows knitted in frustration, Aya tried again. “What I don't understand is everything *but* the sex. From what you said before, you want more than just sex, right? That's what that bizarre musical interlude was about, wasn't it?”

 

Yoji nodded mutely.

 

“Well, what would *that* part be like? The non-sweaty part?”

 

A lot like this, Yoji was beginning to realize. And the thing was, he was pretty sure he'd be able to deal, if he could just get some sex thrown in.

 

Aya frowned, apparently having an insight of some sort. “I should have fucked Masaki,” he muttered to himself.

 

“Did you mean to say that out loud?”

 

Aya looked startled.

 

“That's what I thought. You already realize you'll have to tell me -- I see it in your eyes.”

 

Aya sighed. “When I was 17, I started hanging out with this girl. Weird girl -- she'd suddenly decide her chakras were out of whack and get on the floor and do yoga. Anyway, we went out to clubs together, and she introduced me to her friend Masaki. He really -- did something for me. It was the first time I'd ever felt this, you know, overwhelming attraction to someone. Well, one night we were all out dancing, and Masaki took off his shirt, and it... moved me. Things were progressing, but my friend pulled me away and told me I was absolutely *not* allowed to sleep with him. I went along with it to avoid a fight; I figured, well, tomorrow's another day. Of course, it turned out there never was another day...”

 

“No?”

 

“No. Things happened, I turned in my humanity to become a paid killer, yada yada.” He shrugged casually.

 

“Ah. And I assume this anecdote is connected in some way to the situation at hand?”

 

“Well, if I'd just slept with him that night, I'd know how to handle this.”

 

Right. Just a couple of dots left to connect, Yoji thought to himself... Oh! He meant that he was also overwhelmingly attracted to Yoji! Now, that was helpful; it's not like it really showed or anything. And there was really nothing to be gained from pointing out his inconsistencies; the road into Aya's pants was filled with maddening switchbacks and sharp, dangerous curves.

 

“Surely I'm not the only person who's rocked your world since then?”

 

Aya frowned again. “I really don't want to talk about this anymore.”

 

“Damn it, Aya, this is so unfair. You started it.”

 

“And I'm ending it. We've come full circle.'

 

Yoji squeezed his eyes closed, trying to ease the pressure building inside his skull.

 

Aya watched him dispassionately. “Those whom the gods wish to destroy, they first make mad.”

 

Yoji nodded. So true. He looked away from his tormentor and tried to summon up some of that righteous indignation he'd been stoking earlier, but all he had was an impossible, all-consuming desire to connect with this sexy, deranged lunatic.

 

Then inspiration struck. His error was in trying to reason with Aya, who was obviously not on consistent speaking terms with reason. Aya was erratic, unbalanced and confused. He was also all about action, not words. What was needed was a demonstration, not a lecture. He turned back to the redhead and smiled. “It would be like this.”

 

He cupped Aya's face gently in both hands and kissed him gently. He slid one hand into Aya's hair, fingertips stroking the back of his head. For a moment he fancied he was touching Aya's tumultuous thoughts -- which he suddenly envisioned as a tangled mess of black spiders. He jerked his hand down to the back of Aya's neck, forcing himself to move past that bit of imagery.

 

It was easier to do when Aya started kissing back. Yoji pressed his teeth into Aya's lower lip, eliciting a soft sigh. Yoji leaned closer and stroked the corner of Aya's mouth with his tongue. Aya parted his lips, but Yoji held back -- Aya needed to learn about tenderness, and nobody was getting any younger.

 

Yoji knew he was getting somewhere when Aya crawled into his lap, straddling him. Yoji slid one arm around Aya's waist and slid his mouth over Aya's jaw and down his neck, pressing his lips over Aya's frantically pounding pulse. It made his chest ache. Yoji unbuttoned the first three buttons of Aya's shirt and slid it back over his shoulders, moved his hand under the cloth to feel the hard, sleek shoulder muscles and the hard, flat planes of his chest. Yoji kissed down the sternum and rested his head against the ribs, listening to the pounding of Aya's heart. Aya rested his head on Yoji's shoulder.

 

They sat that way for a long time.

 

“Does that answer your question?”

 

“Yes,” Aya whispered.

 

“So, what about the surveillance?”

 

“Fuck the surveillance.”

 

Aya was blowing off a mission. Yoji was pretty sure that was the first horseman of the Apocalypse.

 

What in the name of hell was going on with him? Yoji wanted to talk, but he hesitated because talking to Aya always led to grief, and he felt so good right now. His brain was just deciding to leave well enough alone when his mouth said, “So, why are you giving in now?” Stupid mouth. It did some good work occasionally, but he knew this was a mistake from the first syllable.

 

Aya barely hesitated. “I'm desperate.”

 

Yup -- mistake. “That isn't very flattering.”

 

“It is what it is.”

 

Yoji raised an eyebrow, hoping Aya actually cared enough about him to explain -- he was sick of begging.

 

Aya shifted as if to move away, but then decided to stay where he was, speaking into Yoji's neck. “Every time I try to explain myself, I sound like an over-dramatic, overwrought idiot.”

 

“You have a unique rhetorical style, but I wouldn't say you sound like an idiot. Besides, we live kind of over-dramatic, overwrought lives. And on top of that, I'm kind of frantic to find out anything at all about your inner life. So don't worry `bout me.”

 

Aya snorted in irritation, but he tried again. “It's kind of like being in a blizzard. But with, you know, self-loathing and hatred instead of snow. You can't find your way and eventually you're tempted to just lie down and let it cover you over,” he said, putting a finger to his temple. “I need a way out,” he muttered.

 

“Well, that's actually much better. I can help you with that.”

 

“But you want... I don't have anything for you. I just want...”

 

“It's OK,” Yoji interrupted. “It's enough.” He pushed at Aya gently. “Get off for a minute.”

 

Aya complied and Yoji ducked through the curtain behind them, into the back of the truck. “Come *on*,” he added when Aya didn't immediately follow.

 

Yoji lay down on the floor. “Come here.”

 

Aya cocked his head. “I thought you wanted to fuck me.”

 

“You don't strike me as much of a bottom, Aya.”

 

That got a small smile. “No.”

 

“Thus...” Yoji gestured to his on-the-floorness.

 

“It's complicated.”

 

“I'm sure it is.”

 

“That's what I want this time.”

 

Yoji sighed inwardly. Everything, every last fucking little detail, was always going to be a battle with this one. “Aya, no way am I going to let you turn this into some kind of punishment.”

 

Aya smiled, sitting next to Yoji. “I hadn't thought of that. That's good.”

 

Yoji sat up. He felt like he was on the third leg of a marathon. “OK, then -- why?”

 

“Isn't it enough that you get what you want?”

 

“No.”

 

“All this communication is spoiling you. If I explain this, will you shut up and fuck me?”

 

Yoji nodded mutely. He was so hard he could barely think, yet he know better than to relax his guard.

 

“I want to try giving up the control, to see if that will... give me some peace.”

 

“Why haven't you tried this before, then?”

 

“I told you.”

 

What? When? Yoji struggled with the limited facts at hand. He finally decided Aya must mean the Masaki thing. “That's flattering, I think. What else?

 

“I trust you.”

 

Better. Yoji just wished he didn't still feel as if he were sailing into the part of the map that said “Here be monsters.” Because Aya was struggling with something; it was obvious from the look in his eyes and the twist of his mouth.

 

“Aya, do you actually want to do this?

 

“Yes,” Aya finally said. Quietly, seriously, like he was accepting a death sentence.

 

Yoji was torn. He felt things for Aya -- important things he was willing to acknowledge, if not examine closely. He didn't want to add to Aya's state of overwhelming gloom and wretchedness. On the other hand, enough was enough. This approach/avoidance behavior was beginning to really fuck with him. There was no way Yoji was going to walk away without some kind of sex taking place. But...

 

This wasn't how he wanted it to happen.

 

“Aya, you say `yes, yes,' but there's `no, no' in your eyes.”

 

Aya stared at him in that way he had of turning to face a person, making eye contact, then cocking his head slowly and staring as if he were trying to puzzle out what kind of big, ugly bug he'd discovered. Finally, he nodded to himself. “You think I know what I'm doing and just choose not to let you in on it, don't you.”

 

Yoji sensed trouble but nodded anyway.

 

Shaking his head vigorously, Aya said, “I have no idea what I'm doing. Less than none. My uncertainty about what I'm doing is so intense that it sometimes rips time and space.”

 

“Oh, come on -- you know if you want sex or not.”

 

“No, I don't. Not always. That's what I'm saying. Even with something that basic, I obsess and ponder and fret and worry insanely until I have no idea what I really think or feel.”

 

It was Yoji's turn to stare.

 

Aya's face lit up with triumph. “*Now* you get it.”

 

“I'm dumbstruck. I mean, you certainly seem to know what you're doing on a mission. Or in the flower shop, even.”

 

Aya had warmed to his topic and spoke animatedly. “That's different. I understand killing. Killing makes sense to me. Human emotions and relations -- much less clear.” He paused, thinking. “And at the flower shop, I just fake it. It's not like it matters, anyway.”

 

“That's what Ken says, too. The flower shop is...”

 

“Don't lecture me about the God-damned flower shop, Yoji. Are you going to fuck me or not?”

 

Yoji still wasn't entirely happy with the situation, but he was also keenly aware that he might not get another chance. “Yeah. But you're going to like it.”

 

Aya smiled and got into his lap again. He started sucking on Yoji's earlobe, then whispered, “I'm willing to like it.”

 

“You promise?”

 

“If you're as good as you say you are.”

 

“I'm better,” Yoji murmured, kissing him fiercely.

 

“Show me.”

 

“I'm trying.” Yoji grabbed the hair at the back of Aya's head with one hand and held his jaw in place with the other, redoubling his kissing efforts. He just needed Aya to lose track for a few minutes ... if he retained access to his brain, he'd probably argue the whole time. Or worse.

 

Aya seemed to like the rough treatment, so Yoji stuck with what worked, throwing him to the floor and climbing on top of him.

 

“Aya,” he breathed.

 

Aya made a noise deep in his throat.

 

“Aya,” Yoji whispered again, this time kissing the skin just beneath Aya's jaw. He moved his lips along the redhead's throat, coming to rest at the hollow along his collarbone.

 

“Please let me do this,” Yoji whispered, hands moving from Aya's shoulders to his chest and down his stomach, then touching the bare skin under his shirt. “And don't hate me for it.” One hand slid around to the small of Aya's back, while the other -- slowly, unsteadily -- reached for his cock. “You're hard.”

 

Aya moaned quietly.

 

“You want me, don't you. Say it. Just this one time, tell me you want me.”

 

“Yes,” he said, gritting the word out, barely loud enough to hear.

 

Yoji groaned. “What do you like?”

 

He shook his head impatiently. “You're supposed to be topping -- figure it out.”

 

Yoji growled and thrust his hips against Aya's. He held the redhead down so he couldn't move -- of course, Aya was actually much stronger and outweighed him by at least 15 pounds, so maintaining the illusion was obviously at his discretion. It seemed to excite him, though.

 

“You want me to take you.” He bit Aya's neck, gently at first, then violently. “That's what you want, isn't it, Aya?” He ground his erection into Aya's, making them both gasp. “You don't want me to give you any choice.”

 

He sucked hard on Aya's throat and felt the other man's cock jerk. Yoji shifted to the side and tugged Aya's shirt off. Aya closed his eyes as Yoji ran his hands over his bare flesh, tossed his head back when Yoji pressed slightly on the fresh scar on his shoulder. Yoji didn't quite like the expression on his face, but there was no going back now.

 

“Bite me again,” Aya said, his voice like gravel.

 

Hands digging into Aya's arms, Yoji bit forcefully at the tender skin just beneath Aya's ear, but the more he hurt Aya, the more he responded. “Now tell me,” Yoji hissed. “Tell me what else you want, Aya. Tell me what else you need.”

 

“Just fuck me,” Aya rasped. “Fuck me hard. Make me scream.”

 

Yoji could barely breathe. “God, yes,” he muttered, mainly to himself. He rolled off and furiously yanked down Aya's leather pants. Aya's boots were already off -- how the hell did he do that shit? Yoji quickly stripped off his own clothes, staring all the while at Aya's cock, which was rock-hard.

 

He knelt over Aya's chest, his erection brushing Aya's lips.

 

“Suck it,” he said gruffly.

 

Aya just stared at him for several seconds, and he was briefly afraid he'd made the worst mistake of his life. But then the redhead opened his mouth and traced his tongue over the head of Yoji's cock, and it was all he could do to keep from coming right there. Aya licked his lips, then slid his mouth up and down the shaft, brushing not altogether gently with his teeth. Yoji groaned loudly, which Aya took as a cue to swallow him back and suck as hard as he could.

 

Yoji grunted and pulled away sharply. He closed his eyes for a moment. “Can't take … any more of that.”

 

Aya smiled. It had a cruel edge.

 

Yoji flipped him over and started kissing his shoulders, working his way down his back. He ran his tongue down Aya's shoulder blades, over his ribcage, and down past the swell of his ass, occasionally gnawing at the snow-white skin.

 

Finally, he swirled his tongue around the tightly clenched muscle of Aya's asshole, holding his hips firmly in place. He licked and sucked and lightly dragged his teeth across the flesh until it opened to his tongue, which he thrust inside until Aya started pushing back against him. He slid his fingers inside, feeling around for the sweet spot, relishing how Aya cried out each time he stroked it -- God, it felt good to have some control.

 

“God damn it, Yoji, fuck me!”

 

Yoji cursed as he moved into position and pushed himself inside. He watched, rapt, as Aya panted, pulling at his own hair in an apparent effort to master the sensations.

 

“How does it feel, Aya? I'll tell you how you feel to me...” he paused, gasping as the muscles around him tightened. “Hotter than hell.”

 

Aya groaned; Yoji wondered if he was even making sense of what he was saying. “Tell me, Aya,” Yoji ground out urgently. He'd quickly built up a pounding rhythm that was driving him insane. He reached a hand under Aya's hips and grabbed his cock, stroked him hard and fast.

 

Aya cried out as he came into Yoji's hand.

 

“Oh, fuck, yes!” Yoji screamed, coming hard. He collapsed on top of Aya and lay there until his breathing and heart rate had slowed down and he could see again. His first conscious thought was “damn the torpedoes, I'm in love.”

 

 

********

 

Note: There's going to be at least one more chapter to this, but I just wanted to thank everyone who's been reading this and especially everyone who's reviewed, as getting reviews is really one of life's greatest joys.