Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Our Kitten ❯ Making Up ( Chapter 6 )

Notes: I have no idea what's up with this bold thing about halfway through; MM seems to want to do this to all my fics lately. I think I've got it figured out, but it's taken some serious alternation of formatting of the file, so please forgive the many “updates” that were experiments in how to fix the problem. I'll try to correct the others now! Thank you al l for your patience.

 

 

Our Kitten

Chapter Six: Making Up

 

 

Aya glared at him as his laughter ran its course, leaving him flushed in the face and short of breath.

“Ridiculous,” he decided, the single, icy word cutting through Yohji's good mood with a swift, cleaver-like chop.

With his feelings more hurt than he would have liked to admit, Yohji's first instinct was to lash out at him, to cut him back. But then he noticed. Aya's hands had stilled, no longer touching the soft fur of the animal in his lap; they clenched, instead, one balled into a fist with the other clutched around the opposing forearm, nails biting, just a little, into the pale skin.

“Aya . . .”

“Shut up.” He stared ahead, no longer looking even in Yohji's general direction.

“Hey, I was just kidding.”

“ . . .”

The nails bit a little deeper in the silence.

“Aya, talk to me.”

“Why? So you can make fun of me?”

“What?!”

“Forget it,” he shook his head and stood, scooping the kitten into his hands only to set her on the couch cushion beside Yohji. She stirred, looking lost and worried.

“Mew? Mew!”

“Aya!”

But the swordsman was already on the stairs, stolid and cold and, Yohji thought, absolutely miserable.

“Meeeeeww!”

“Well, fuck.”

~*~

Stupid big mouth. Yohji debated gagging the troublesome thing, but decided to fill it with beer instead. The kitten watched discontentedly from her makeshift plastic playpen (formerly Omi's colander) on the table. Whether sensing the mood or just grumpy from her nap being interrupted, she complained as loudly as her little lungs allowed.

“Meeeeew! Meeeeew!” A little silence to breathe, then, “Meeeeew!”

“Damn, I should have let you both sleep.”

“Meeeeeew!”

“Shhh, let me think.”

“Meeeeeww!”

~*~

Thus he went forth with no plan, just a noisy kitten and two fresh cans of beer. Aya's door was closed but not locked, and when he didn't get any answer to his courteous announcement of his presence outside of it, Yohji went on in. The overhead light was off and the shades were newly drawn, allowing only meager light to slant through the tiny spaces between the wooden slats. Aya faced away from this, towards Yohji, perched on the edge of his bare mattress. With his arms crossed tightly over his belly, Yohji again thought how small he looked in the gray t-shirt, but his eyes, cold and hard, denied any possible vulnerability.

“Out.”

Yohji just smiled; Aya would have to try harder than that.

At the sound of his voice the kitten squeaked with renewed vigor.

“Meeeeww!”

“She thinks you're mad at her,” Yohji noted.

“Hn.”

“Come on, think how scary it would be if your mom got mad and left you with some perverted stranger.”

“I'm not her mother,” he snapped, but trained his eyes on the kitten nonetheless. She was struggling in Yohji's hand, tiny claws trying to drag her body above the loose hold of his fist and get her to Aya. “Don't drop her,” he warned.

“Here,” Yohji took walked over and offered the kitten.

“Mew!” It was a plea, and Yohji silently congratulated her on the cuteness of it all. No one could resist that face! Aya reached, brows drawn, towards her, and she was quick to tilt her little black nose against his fingers. The moment she was back in his hands, the cries turned to soft purrs. With an air of defeat, Aya shook his head; the glare fell away to neutral cool as he placed her, gently, on the mattress beside his leg, cupping his hand around her small body to offer additional heat as she happily resumed her nap.

Yohji wondered if he could get Aya to curl up against his leg and sleep; he offered a cold beer instead. Aya took it, apparent as a gesture of goodwill, but set it unopened on the nightstand.

Carefully, Yohji lowered himself to the mattress.

“I wasn't making fun,” he said quietly, “not of you.”

No answer.

“I don't really expect you to call her…that. I just wanted it to be, you know, something between us,” he fumbled for words, making his situation worse by trying to drink from his unopened beer before finishing lamely, “since she's ours, and all.”

Reaching over, Aya lifted the can from Yohji's hand, opened it, and handed it back with the tiniest of turns at the corner of his lips.

“Thanks.”

They waited in silence, and though he was staring intently at the open beer in his hands, Yohji got the distinct feeling Aya was looking at him. Steeling his nerve, he raised his eyes, meeting not the expected glare, but, he thought, faint trepidation.

“You want a name that relates to . . . us?”

“Um, yeah, you know . . . something related . . .” Did he really seduce women with that mouth? What a stupid thing it was!

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I get to choose.”

“Sure.”

Aya stared, hard, at Yohji's eyes, as if trying to discern his core essence there. It was awkward, but he struggled not to look away. Finally, Aya dropped his gaze and, with a glance to the sleeping kitten, nodded.

“Got it?”

“Yes.”

“Share?”

“Melian, or Meli if you prefer.”

“Meli, M-chan” he tried it out, pronouncing the M as `em' rather than `mm'. “I like it, but please tell me it's not a type of cat.”

“No.”

“What's it mean?”

Aya only looked at the kitten, stroking a hand over her fragile little body as she tried to snuggle closer in her sleep. Yohji realized he wasn't going to get an answer, at least not directly. Perhaps Aya had used up his word allowance for the day, or maybe he was secretly debating changing the name back to Fetish, which Yohji had already determined would be Meli's official nickname, especially if Aya wasn't around. And damn if he wasn't going to buy her the cutest leather collar ever made.

“Melian Fetish Kudou-Fujimiya,” he pronounced suddenly. “Hm, Melian Fetish Fujimiya. That's better. I'll just take your name when we get married.”

Aya simply shook his head.

“Yeah,” Yohji finished his beer, “we should never have kids.”

~tbc~

 

Notes: Hm, why did Aya choose that name? What's it got to do with Yohji? Why aren't you being threatened by an angry Aya who saw you complimenting his Yohji? It seems he's rather tied up at the moment, but, if you'd like to leave a review and give Yohji a few suggestions of precisely where to put the whip cream, I'm sure he wouldn't mind.