Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Misdemeaner ❯ One-Shot

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Kracken

Disclaimer:Don't own them, don't make any money off of this.
Warning:Male/Male sex. Language, Violence,Graphic.

Weiss Kruez
AyaxKen

Misdemeanors

Does he even know how beautiful he is? Aya wondered as he watched Ken pump iron on the exercise machine, muscles flexing across his back and rounded shoulders releasing and bunching with every motion. Ken made it look effortless. Aya found himself counting in his head. When he had reached twenty, Ken wasn't even breathing hard.

Like a rock, Aya thought, both mentally and physically. Ken was determined, tireless, hard headed, and rarely daunted. Despite being a man who often ripped his enemies apart with metal claws, Ken still retained an innocent openness that was both appealing to Aya and repulsive. On the one hand, it drew Aya like water in a desert, because he didn't own any innocence himself. On the other hand, it repulsed him because it seemed either false or the mark of a lack of intelligence. If a man steeped in blood could still smile, laugh, and play soccer with the neighborhood children, then some deeper understanding was lacking, Aya felt. It was that part of Ken that caused Aya to keep his distance, to treat him with aloofness, and to feel even a bit of contempt for the man.

Aya finished his practice with a last flourish of his sword in the cleared area of the basement gym. Dressed in loose, black pants and a white tank top, Aya was drenched in sweat and panting as he sheathed his sword. His thoughts had been dark lately. Driving himself to exhaustion in practice often cleared his head and brought him at least the peace of a dreamless night's sleep.

"Good night, Aya," Ken said without turning around.

Aya frowned and said nothing in return as he pulled off his gloves, slapped them together, and headed up the stairs. It had become a routine with them and he wondered why Ken bothered to say anything. Aya never replied. Aya was never pleasant. Aya even shut the man out from his thoughts all together, concentrating entirely on the art of his swordsmanship... that is, until lately, until on night when he had turned to see Ken working out with that bull dog determination, never giving in to weakness, never allowing himself to fall short of the goal he had set for himself. It had given Aya a new perspective of the man, one that he couldn't help but admire. Among Ken's shortcomings, Aya found that this part of him was noble enough to cancel out the things in Ken he found so distasteful.

Aya touched his long earring, an unconscious habit that was not so unconscious at that moment. As he entered his room and began stripping to shower off his sweat, he reminded himself that he had a purpose and one purpose only, to avenge his sister. He didn't have the luxury of liking anyone. His comrades were a means to an end. They helped him to fight, to bring him closer and closer to his goal of killing Takatori. Outside of that, they were only a distraction that he avoided when he could.

"Aya?" Omi burst into the room, mouth rattling on about something until his eyes registered that Aya was completely nude. He stopped, stammered, and then blushed as he turned away. "S-Sorry, Aya. I should have knocked, but I received information on the location of our target."

Aya wasn't self conscious. He knew what Omi had seen and he knew that the boy was flustered about more than Aya being nude. Aya was very tall and very thin, but he was a swordsman. Muscles under his arms bulged with strength and his forearm was over developed from supporting the weight of his blade. Scars from the attack that had robbed him of his parents and sister, marked his back and side. Every where else there were numerous signs of his struggle to destroy evil; gun shot, knife, sword, and even burn scars. His body was a map of his struggle for revenge. He hadn't thought of it as shocking, but he supposed it would be to someone like Omi. Unlike Ken, Omi's naivete came from inexperience and youth. It was understandable, something that was already peeling away with time and experience.

Yohji sauntered in, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the door frame and looked at Aya in smirking amusement. "I didn't know there was going to be a strip show. Should I call some girls, Aya?"

Aya frowned at the blonde haired Weiss and reached for his robe. As he half slipped it on, Ken appeared as well, anxious eyes darting from one person to another and then resting on Aya. Those eyes widened and Aya saw a red flush creep across Ken's cheeks. As Aya put on the rest of the robe and belted it, Ken turned away in a perfect copy of Omi and looked just as flustered as the young man.

"Uh, you called me Omi. W-What's up?" Ken asked in a voice that threatened to crack.

"Information on our target," Aya replied for Omi.

Yohji laughed as he straightened and said, "Well, shows over it seems, so let's get out of here and see what Omi's big news is."

Omi was only too glad to dart forward to lead the way. Yohji sauntered after him, long legs striding elegantly, but Ken paused and glanced back, briefly. His eyes met Aya's and Aya saw him blush again before he turned and hurried after the other two members of Weiss.

Aya frowned. He wasn't a fool. He knew what a look like Ken's meant. It meant trouble and distraction.
*******************************
"What did you think?" Ken asked as they left Omi's briefing. Aya grunted noncommittally. Perhaps if he was ruder than usual... but no, Ken still followed him, face eager and eyes intent on Aya's face.

"It seems pretty straight forward," Ken rattled on. "Our target likes certain kinds of drugs. We just have to pretend to supply them and wait for him to come to us."

Aya nodded.

"Hungry?" Ken's switch of topics caught Aya off guard. He stopped and blinked at the athlete beside him. "We could go down to the kitchen and I could make us a few sandwiches... or a rice dish, if you like, " Ken continued. "That's what you always eat, I know, but I do make a good ham sandwich. If you want to try-"

"No," Aya replied, cutting him off. "I'm not hungry."

Ken made a disapproving face. "You almost never eat, Aya, and when you do it's always rice with a bit of chicken. A man can't live on that. How do you expect to fight our targets if you don't-"

Aya became very grim as he raised a hand. Ken stopped talking. Aya gave him a chilly stare and then walked into his room and shut the door, leaving Ken standing in the hall with his mouth slightly open.

Taking out his sword, Aya sat down on the edge of his bed and began to oil it. After a few moments, he heard voices in the hallway. Yohji, Omi, and Ken.

"I'm telling you, man!" Yohji drawled, "He doesn't want any friends. Give it up, Ken."

"He does so want friends!" Omi argued, "but on his terms. He wants his privacy respected."

Yohji snorted with humor, "I wasn't the one taking a peek at Aya naked. Are you sure there's not something you want to share with us, Omi?"

"Yohji!" Omi exclaimed in embarrassment and Aya could imagine the boy's blush.

"Leave him alone!" Ken growled and then his voice lowered as he said, "Aya needs someone to look after him, to be his friend. He might not know it, though, so I just have to be stubborn about it."

Yohji grunted, "You're funeral, Ken. Aya tends to get rid of people he doesn't like with the edge of his sword, in case you haven't noticed."

Omi sounded nervous, not sure of his own statement as he retorted, "That's ridiculous! He wouldn't hurt us!"

"If you think so," Yohji returned and then the voices retreated down the hallway until Aya couldn't hear them any longer.

They thought that he was dangerous. Aya was pleased. It would keep them at a distance. It bothered him that Ken hadn't replied to Yohji's statement that he was capable of murdering them. Aya hoped that it was a silence born of second thoughts about trying to befriend him.

Aya turned his thoughts to the mission, hating that he was being distracted. In another night they would lay their trap. Yohji would use his charm to make the connection with the target, posing as a drug dealer. Ken would be his body guard. Omi would be the distraction. Aya would deliver the death blow. The thought of bringing the edge of his blade down onto the neck of an evil man gave Aya a sense of well being. It made him polish the shinning length more diligently as if he were being honored and wanted to make a good showing.

There was a knock on his door. Aya tensed and felt seething anger take hold of him. He leashed it and asked in his usual, cold voice, "Yes?"

"It's just me," Ken replied on the other side of the door. "I went ahead and made you something to eat."

Aya didn't respond. It was foolishness, he thought, he had already told Ken that he didn't want any food.

When Ken decided that Aya wasn't going to open the door, he sighed, "All right, sorry to bother you," he said in his good natured voice, 'I'll leave it outside the door and you can get it when you have a moment. There 's tea as well, so don't wait too long or it'll be cold. Good night, Aya."

Footsteps went away. Aya finished his sword and sheathed it. He hated how curiosity nibbled at the edges of his disdain. At last, he couldn't fight it any longer. He went to the door and cracked it open. Sitting on the floor, on a small bamboo tray, was a bowl of rice, with chicken sprinkled on the top, and a steaming cup of tea.

Aya retrieved the tray and retreated back into his room, closing the door. Staring down at the food, he frowned. He had expected a greasy, mayonnaise laden, ham sandwich, not a meticulously arranged tray of exactly what he had wanted to eat. A red napkin had been arranged with care, the rice had been placed in a blue raku bowl, and the tea was in a white, bone china cup.

Balanced and beautiful, it was obvious that Ken had spent time and care on the tray. Aya sighed in frustration. The situation was worse than he had imagined.

*****************************
Aya surveyed the darkness from the deeper darkness behind a smelly dumpster. Checking the lighted dial of his watch, he frowned. It was well past the time that Yohji and Ken should have arrived with the target.

"Aya," Omi said through his ear transmitter. "Something's gone wrong."

Time tables were foolish in such a situation, but Aya had to agree. "Try and contact them," he ordered, hating to break radio silence. If Yohji and Ken were in route, it was possible that the call could put them in danger.

"Roger," Omi replied and there was a silence that stretched too long for Aya's nerves. At last, Omi said, "No reply."

Aya sighed and rubbed at his eyes. "We'll have to go after them."

Omi appeared from the far end of the ally, looking both frightened and sad. Their target was dangerous. It was possible that Yohji and Ken had been found out and eliminated. If that was so, then it would be Aya and Omi's mission to finish the job and avenge their partners.

They would be avenged, Aya promised himself, and felt a deep depression over take him. He didn't want to acknowledge that most of it was caused by the fear that something terrible might have happened to Ken. Yohji had always been able to take care of himself, but wide eyed Ken, who seemed more innocent than Omi, if that were possible, always begged for protection just by his hard headed and simplistic approach to dealing with truly evil men.

The office building of the target wasn't far from the ambush position. Aya, slipping in and out of shadows and avoiding the light of street lamps, formulated a plan of attack in his mind while Omi, following him as silently as a cat, was surely working out the technical details. Crouching close to the glass front doors, they could see a night guard pacing nervously inside the illuminated lobby, a hand on his weapon. That told them clearer than words that something had happened.

"Damn!" Omi hissed. He whipped out his small laptop, rested it on one knee, and began typing furiously. "Call to Reiji Takatori. Call to several operatives. His phone log is pretty busy, Aya. The Target is definitely alerted."

Aya's face had darkened at the name of his nemeses. "Any emails?"

Omi tapped keys. "Encrypted. Wait a moment... Translated. It says that operations will be moved to b- site commencing immediately and all planned strikes are canceled. It doesn't say anything about infiltrators."

"It wouldn't," Aya muttered. "The Target wouldn't want his people to know that someone had breached his security. They would run like rabbits if they knew."

Omi typed for a long minute and then he stared curiously at a security grid on his screen. "Lower level security features have just been activated," he reported, "The time signature says that they have remained dormant throughout the Target's occupation of the building. I think they might be holding Ken and Yohji in the basement storage rooms."

Holding them alive or dead? Aya wondered. The thought of not seeing irritating Ken, of not enduring his constant attempts at meddling and friendship, and putting up with his bumbling, simple good nature, any longer created a sudden ache in Aya's heart. Why didn't he feel the same way for Yohji? He wondered. Why did all of his thoughts center on one team mate and not the other? Yohji was certainly not worthy of less consideration. He was a good fighter and very intelligent. Yohji was far more valuable in the quest for his revenge than Ken. Still, Aya began to imagine Ken dead or, at the very least, hurt in some way, and those thoughts made him reckless.

"Find an alternate entry," Aya ordered.

"Already have," Omi replied as if he were annoyed that Aya thought that he need the order. "Got it! On the side of the building, there's several vents to the basement for circulation. They won't be large enough, but there should be a maintenance hatch for such a large building."

Aya nodded and went grim. it was very possible that he was about to order all of their deaths, yet he knew that he couldn't turn away from his duty to both his mission and his comrades. He especially couldn't turn away from Ken. That last thought made Aya clamp down hard on his thoughts and emotions. It was useless to think such thoughts. He was an instrument of justice. He lived only to avenge his sister. His life was devoted to her care. Indulging in friendships, or anything more, was something that he couldn't allow.

"Let's go," Aya, ordered, viciously squashing his humanity beneath his duty. "We have a mission to finish."

It seemed surreal, slipping into the building and making their way down dark corridors into the bowels of the building. Aya killed, never slowing, cutting down any men who dared tried to stand in their way as easily as a man scythed wheat. Omi followed, wide eyed, but untroubled by the dead they left behind them as he directed Aya to the right section of the building.

They found both Ken and Yohji, sprawled in a store room, blood pooled and congealed all around them. It looked as if they had both been tortured mercilessly.

"Oh, no!" Omi cried "We're too late!"

Both men were clearly dead. Aya's hand tightened convulsively on his sword, his expression one of shock, as he looked down at Ken's white face. He seemed to be sleeping, Aya thought, as if a touch could wake him. Peaceful, serene, so strong and kind looking even in death. Memories accused Aya, every kindness ever offered to him by the dead man at his feet, kindnesses that Aya had repeatedly and harshly rejected. Too late now, too late for many things. Aya felt his heart clench painfully, as if it threatened to stop then and here, his grief washing over him and tears beginning to flow down his cheeks.

"I should have told you, Ken," Aya whispered, "but I didn't think I deserved...."

"Told me what?"

Aya blinked his eyes open. Ken was leaning over him, looking worried. He was wearing an old t-shirt and a pair of comfortable looking boxers. His hair was mussed and his eyes looked blurry, as if he'd been sleeping and had been rudely awakened. Aya was in his own bed, he realized with a painful, mental lurch. The mission hadn't started yet. He had been having a nightmare. Ken was alive!

Aya felt the tears running down his face again. Ashamed, he turned away. He felt Ken settle on the side of the bed. "If you want to talk, Aya, I'll listen."

Aya wiped self consciously at his face. The dream was still pulling him down into darkness, into grief, even though he had the proof of Ken's well being right next to him. The overwhelming sense of loss, of not having told the man how he felt, how he REALLY felt, was unbalancing his determination to keep himself distant. The call of revenge, that had driven him mercilessly since his sister was run down by a Takatori's car, was suddenly nearly silent, buried by the tremendous urge to...

Aya suddenly rolled and grabbed at Ken's shirt. The man flinched, not sure what Aya intended, but almost certain it was going to involve pain inflicted on himself for his daring to come into the man's room to wake him from a nightmare. When Aya pulled him down and devoured his lips, Ken's eyes flew wide and he made a startled, choked noise. When Aya held him closer, almost cradling him in his long arms, Ken felt every longing that he had ever had about the demon ridden swordsman crystallize and find an outlet. His arms slipped around Aya and he took the offered gift, kissing Aya back passionately.

Aya didn't give him a moment to gather his senses. Aya's hands were suddenly pulling at Ken's shirt, large hands delving underneath to feel the hard muscles of Ken's shoulders and chest. Ken's nipples went hard as those calloused hands slid over them. He groaned. If he was the one who was dreaming, he never wanted to wake up, he thought, as his erection pushed against his boxers. He felt as if he were on fire, every nerve vibrating.

"I don't deserve to have you," Aya whispered forlornly as he broke the kiss and began to trace a hot line along Ken's neck with his tender moving lips. "I shouldn't do this. I should push you away... now... but, I dreamed that you died... "

Ken listened to Aya's words and suddenly understood where Aya's passion was springing from. The man had dreamed of his death and he had regretted lost opportunities. Ken smiled, his heart going warm, and he began returning Aya's caresses. "You do deserve this, " he replied. "We both do."

It was hot and passionate, their lovemaking, their movements hurried and almost desperate, knowing that time was short and that circumstances and, perhaps, their own doubts and guilt, might stop them.

"You're beautiful," Ken whispered as he looked up from where he crouched by Aya's knees and saw the flushed face, the sparkling eyes, and the tousled red hair of his new lover. "Let me..." Ken licked nervous lips as his hand found Aya's erection and stroked it tentatively. "Let me taste you."

Aya could only nod, his entire being suddenly centered on that swollen length of flesh as Ken bent over and took it into his warm, moist mouth. When Ken's tongue rasped over the head, Aya gasped and clutched at the blankets, every nerve singing as he breathed, "Oh, yes!"

Ken sucked Aya with long, tight strokes of his lips and throat. His expression was open with wonder and excitement. It wasn't the expression of an experienced man, yet Ken seemed to have an intuitive skill. He made Aya writhe under his tender assault and then come explosively. Aya bit on his own hand to stifle the cry that tried to erupt from his lips and then he lay and panted while he watched Ken lick at his lips and the hot seed still dripping from them.

"I want you, Aya," Ken said breathily. "I've always wanted you."

Aya understood what Ken wanted. He ached for them to be closer, for the need and the loneliness that was deep within him to be exorcised at last. He wanted to feel alive and loved, not like an instrument of revenge... just for a little while, just for now, just until duty called him back to the sword and hunting the night. "Yes," he whispered and Ken smiled a warm, loving smile that went straight to the center of Aya's heart.

Ken gathered Aya up and Aya felt almost as pliant as a child as Ken slipped between his thighs, brought Aya's knees up, and then looked down into his eyes as his dripping erection found Aya's entrance. Aya waited for pain, waited for a swift invasion, but Ken was slow and patient, using his own excitement to coat and ease the way. He patiently stretched Aya and the pain was small compared to the pleasure of being filled, of having Ken holding him and looking at him with an expression that 'claimed' him, that said, clearer than words, that they were lovers, that they were one, and that nothing was ever going to take that away from them.

When Aya had become accustomed to the large, hard presence inside of him, Ken lowered himself until they were pressed tight together. Ken moved experimentally, watching Aya's face carefully. When Aya moaned and hitched his legs higher, Ken knew that Aya was ready and he began to thrust with gentle, slow motions.

"Please," Aya groaned. "Need you, Ken. I need you!"

"I'm here," Ken replied. "I'm here. We're together. I'm taking you and I'm keeping you, Aya." He came with two powerful thrusts and he locked his arms around Aya tightly as he rode the storm of his orgasm.

Afterwards, they stayed wrapped up in each other's arms, Aya's head pillowed on Ken's chest, Ken playing idly with the flame that was Aya's hair. They said nothing, knowing that very shortly, they would part and go on their mission. When that happened, they would fall back into their places and do their duty, kill the evil doer, seek revenge, and maybe die. They didn't make promises or vows. They were who they were, and they knew that couldn't change, yet the burden of who they were had been made suddenly lighter now that they knew that they had someone who loved them to help them bear it.

End