Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Let's get it on ❯ Aya freaks out ( Chapter 7 )

(Oops... I think this should fix the formatting problem -- thanks, Wedjateye!)

 

Yoji was having trouble waking up, a sure sign he'd slept too long -- or not long enough. Of course, it could mean he was catching a cold; or maybe the weather wasn't agreeing with him... He definitely felt too warm. Maybe... it might be somehow related to the unfamiliar presence of someone bigger and stronger than him, lying against his back and holding him tight. Throwing off heat like a radiator, too.

 

Oh, that was Aya... which meant, by process of deduction, that the enormous hard-on wedged against his ass belonged to...

 

Yoji's eyes popped open. Careful not to break the embrace, Yoji rolled over and put his arms around Aya's waist, slid a hand down to squeeze Aya's ass. Still asleep, Aya thrust against Yoji, grinding into his hips. Yoji's cock leaped fully to life. He pulled Aya to him and started kissing the other man's neck, jaw, ear... Aya was waking up but still fully compliant.

 

“Oh, God, Aya, you're...” Yoji licked his ear. “So...” He signed against Aya's mouth and lightly bit his lower lip. “Beautiful.”

 

“Mmmm,” Aya murmured sleepily. “Are you going to compare me to a summer's day? Am I more lovely and more temperate? Ohhh... do that again...”

 

“You certainly are temperate,” Yoji said, giving Aya's balls another light squeeze. “And lovely. Yes. More...”

 

Aya moaned quietly, lying back and spreading his legs to give Yoji easier access. He made a pleased little humming sound. “How about more fair? Am I more fair?”

 

“More everything.”

 

Aya threw back his head and moaned as Yoji started pumping him in earnest.

 

“Don't know... aah... what scares me more...” Aya choked off a groan. “That you seem to mean it... Oh, fuck yes, just like that... or that you might not.”

 

“Oh, I mean it.” Yoji picked up the rhythm Aya needed and brought him close to completion. “It's just the way it is. Might as well be afraid of the dark at night or the waves on the ocean...”

 

“Many people are afraid of those things, Yoji... Oh, *God* -- if you keep doing that, I'm going to come...”

 

“That's the point.”

 

Aya closed his eyes and let himself go. His deep, quiet groan thrilled Yoji; in fact, Yoji was so happy he wanted to giggle. He stifled it, though, because he wanted to come more, and to do that, he had to avoid provoking Aya to murder. Aya was unarmed, but that would only slow him down so much.

 

“So, you're a force of nature?” Aya asked, still panting a little. “Is that what you tell the ladies?”

 

Yoji frowned -- this sounded like an area of conversation to be avoided. “How about if you reciprocate with the hand-job action before going into a full-blown critique of my sweet nothings?”

 

“As it were,” Aya snorted. But he complied, and ah, that was so much better. Aya had such good hands, and, as he'd proven so many times on their missions, he excelled at figuring out what worked. Quickly. Yoji allowed himself the luxury of calling out Aya's name as he came, to make up for all the times he'd had to bite it back.

 

Catching his breath, Yoji gasped, “Fuck, you're good at that.”

 

Aya looked ever-so-slightly perplexed. “Well, it isn't difficult to figure it out -- I have one too; I know how they work.”

 

Was it a joke? Wasn't it a joke? Yoji had no idea, so it was safer not to laugh.

 

“Um... right. Well, a lot of people who presumably deal with their own dicks all the time don't seem to know what to do with someone else's. Surely you've noticed this.”

 

Aya grunted his assent. “Fine. I'll make sure Kritiker adds it to my profile: performs adequately on hand-job maneuvers.”

 

“OK, that was definitely a joke. Maybe you could carry a little flag that says `humor' on it, and you could wave it when you're saying something funny.”

 

Aya frowned slightly. Yoji was going to let it go, but the frown deepened.

 

“What's wrong?”

 

“Leave me alone. I'm experiencing angst and ennui.”

 

“*And* ennui, you say.”

 

“Yes, ennui. It adds texture.”

 

“Texture.”

 

“I like to think of ennui as the pretzels in the Chex Party Mix of my despair.”

 

Yoji smiled. “I really, really like you.”

 

Aya rolled his eyes. “Please don't start singing again.”

 

“Well, if you can think of something else I could be doing with my mouth... maybe something we'd both enjoy more...”

 

“We need to... Do women actually like those kinds of lines?”

 

“Umm... It wasn't a *line*, per se. But, well... yeah.”

 

Aya thought about it and shook his head. “You're obviously procuring some fairly indiscriminate women. No wonder you go through them like water.”

 

Nope, still not a line of conversation likely to go anywhere Yoji wanted to be. “Aya, forget about the women. The women don't matter.”

 

Aya cocked an eyebrow. “Not to you, maybe.”

 

“There aren't as ridiculously many women as I may have led you to believe. That whole cartoon-character playboy thing is kind of a joke for me. It pisses everybody off, so I keep doing it.”

 

“How many women have you slept with?”

 

Why did this keep happening? Yoji was known for his glib charm, his ability to talk to anyone about anything. But every time he tried to talk to Aya, the whole thing went completely to hell in 15 minutes or less, guaranteed or it's free. “Aya, I have a lot of perfectly good reasons for refusing to answer that question. So we're going to stop talking about it.”

 

“We weren't talking about it. We were getting up and getting ready for the mission tonight.”

 

“What mission tonight?

 

“We have to go back and re-do the surveillance.” Aya spoke slowly and articulated carefully, as if he'd decided Yoji were mentally deficient.

 

Oh. When the hell had Aya had time to plan that out? Driving home this morning, probably, while Yoji was busy being hurt and confused. Yoji was beginning to see the advantages of being able to pretend you didn't really have feelings. He'd have to try it some time.

 

“Ah. And you already set this up?”

 

Aya stared at him, clearly trying to figure out if Yoji really were a complete dolt or if he might have some other agenda. At least he hadn't just assumed. “When we dropped off the truck this morning, I told the guy we'd need it again tonight. You were there.”

 

Oh. “Oh. I was... busy.”

 

“I hadn't realized the pouting took up so much brain capacity. I'll keep that in mind for the future.”

 

Well, that was just uncalled for. “I see,” Yoji said, his tone frosty. “When do you want to leave, then?”

 

Aya looked confused. And, perhaps, a little hurt. “In an hour. We need to get something to eat, and” -- he smiled hesitantly -- “take a shower. Not in that order.”

 

Yoji couldn't help wanting to twist the screw. He nodded in a businesslike manner. “Fine. You go first. I'll meet you downstairs in an hour.”

 

Aya's smile wavered, then disappeared. He nodded. His jaw jutted forward a bit, and his mouth was held in a tight line -- definitely hurt. Yoji felt better and worse at the same time -- the bit of revenge was sweet like rotten fruit. Clearly feeling awkward, Aya got dressed briskly and left quickly, without saying another word. Yoji closed his eyes and wondered, for the millionth time in recent history, what the hell he was doing. Other than trying to fit a porcupine into a cookie jar.

 

**********

 

Aya was waiting for Yoji in the kitchen. He didn't say anything when Yoji got there, just turned on his heel and went into the garage. Yoji groaned. This was partially his fault, but that didn't make him feel any less sorry for himself.

 

No conversation was forthcoming when he got to the car, either. They drove in silence, picked up the truck in silence, drove back to the outskirts of nowhere in silence, sat in the parking lot in silence. Yoji was irritated; in fact, he caught himself reaching up to play with his hair. As a kid he'd twirled the soft curls around his index finger, a nervous habit for which he'd gotten no end of shit. The urge only returned now in dire situations where he had no cigarettes.

 

Yoji had once been injected with a drug -- in a decidedly non-recreational capacity -- that had made him feel as if insects were crawling under his skin. If he were forced to choose between that and the current situation, he wasn't sure which one he'd pick. Yoji's instinct was to talk. It was what he did. Yoji was not one of the silent, brooding loners he often fell for. Yoji was affectionate, he hated to be alone, and he talked. It almost defined him. He usually tried to censor the chatter a little to avoid annoying Aya; tonight, however, he was trying to avoid venting his anger in a way that would chase Aya away for good. Part of him was actually desperate to hurt Aya again, but contrary to the opinion of certain teammates, Yoji had enough discipline to keep from working against his own interests. Mostly. Of course, chasing Aya away was arguably in his best interest...

 

But, oh God, Aya was good in bed. He had a body to make the angels weep, and he fucked like... Yoji became aware of a painful tightness in his chest. Elsewhere, too.

 

He turned to stare at Aya's profile in the moonlight, tried to block the flashback of last night, when Aya had sat in his lap and sighed so sweetly against his neck.

 

Aya was unhappy. He sat stiffly -- of course, he might just have a katana down the back of his coat -- and stared carefully straight ahead, the set of his mouth and stain around his eyes telling Yoji that the redhead was not oblivious or uncaring, and that he wasn't focused entirely on the mission.

 

Yoji suddenly didn't want to hurt him anymore.

 

He leaned over and gently kissed the corner of Aya's mouth, provoking a startled and uncertain expression. Hungry. He kept staring straight ahead for several seconds, obviously afraid. Yoji felt that pain in his chest again. Slowly, grudgingly, Aya turned to look at him. “Yoji...”

 

Yoji put a finger to Aya's lips. “Shut up. I need to tell you something. Don't kill me, but... I love you.”

 

Aya's eyes went wide. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. He turned away from Yoji again, closing his eyes tight as if helpless before the force of the sudden headache Yoji's words had triggered. “No,” he whispered. Then, louder, more forcefully: “No, you don't.”

 

“Look, Aya, it's OK. I'm not asking you for anything -- I just wanted you to know.”

 

Aya whirled around. “It is *not* OK,” he hissed.

 

Wow. Yoji's disappointment with the distinct lack of enthusiasm was pretty much eclipsed by the realization that here, right next to him, in an enclosed space, Aya -- who was presumably armed and certainly very dangerous -- was completely losing his shit. Yoji knew he wasn't qualified to deal with this, but it wasn't like he had time to call in one of Kritiker's bomb teams to diffuse it for him, either.

 

He decided to pull the red wire and see what happened. “Aya, calm the fuck down. I don't expect you to love me back. I don't expect anything. I just...”

 

“*No*,” Aya roared. It seemed to startle him, too, and he visibly grappled for composure. “I'm going to take a look at the docking bay. Stay here.” Resistance would be futile; he was already halfway out the door.

 

“What if something happens while you're over there?” Yoji asked.

 

“I'll take care of it. Stay in the truck.” Aya closed the door quietly. Yoji watched, but he never saw the man cross the lot or enter the building.

 

Yoji stretched a little and sighed. That just hadn't gone well at all. He hadn't expected a marriage proposal or anything, but Aya's reaction seemed a trifle overblown. The good news was that the semi-erection he'd had all evening seemed to have finally gone away.

 

Fucking hell -- Aya was absolutely demented. If only he weren't so... Yoji closed his eyes and saw Aya covered in sweat and completely open to him. Ah -- welcome back, erection.

 

Yoji forced himself to think about something else. Going off alone had been incredibly stupid of Aya. He must have been really shaken. Yoji needed to come up with a plan, since they didn't know how many people would be showing up or how well-trained they'd be. They had no idea if anyone would be using the loading dock or not. Aya was in there with no backup and possibly no weapon, and they they had no way of communicating if anything went wrong. Yoji corrected his original assessment -- Aya was being *fucking* stupid.

 

Yoji was running his fingers over his watch, fingers itching to pull out the wire and save Aya from the threat he'd just conjured up. He was also smiling. Aya was so passionate. Bat-shit crazy, but hot. Beyond hot. Molten. His body was a religious experience. The way Aya had fucked him...

 

Hold on, that was definitely a car. No, it was three... four... a bunch of cars. Pulling into the lot and heading directly into the loading dock. He'd stay put for the moment, but...

 

The lights in the bay came on. It was actually pretty dim in there, but to Yoji it looked bright as day. *Fuck.*