Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Our Kitten ❯ Falling Down ( Chapter 8 )

Our Kitten
Chapter Eight: Falling Down

Yohji wanted a gun. He was going to shoot himself. Point blank. Couldn’t miss. There were no survivors.

A bullet to the brain seemed greatly more appealing than whatever kind of death Aya was currently working out for him. Because Aya was going to kill him.

“Oh.”

Oh? That was it? Where were the threats, the violence, the chasing after Yohji with something shiny and pointed? And why the hell did that little ‘oh’ hurt?

There was a shift in the stiff mattress as Aya stood and walked to his dresser. The kitten mewed softly in her sleep, but was content to remain curled where she was.

Yohji’s mind was still bombarded with questions. Where was Aya going, was he going to come back, and would he be willing to sit a little closer if Yohji apologized for his stupid apology? Why had he said that? Sure, he wanted to avoid a sword up his ass, but he wasn’t sorry. Why was he so fucking stupid?

Finding no reply in his own head, Yohji turned to Aya. He hoped for a reprimand that might dim the sparking fire still drifting on his lips. He needed Aya’s ice water cool to douse the heat growing in him But Aya only offered another question.

“Would you do me a favor?”

Not ever kiss you again? No, Yohji resolved he would never agree to it; it would break him if Aya said that. The heat couldn’t take such a sudden chill; it had to be more moderate. His l–lust couldn’t take something that cold.

“Sure,” he managed, voice calm and smooth and lieing.

“Watch Meli tonight.”

“Where’re you going?”

“Will you watch her?” Aya still wasn’t watching him, was brushing his hair instead as he glared rather harshly at the mirror over the dresser.

“Yeah. Where’re you going?”

“Just out.”

“Oh.”

~*~

Aya felt the Porsche’s powerful engine respond to his command as he levered the gas pedal to the floor to whip around a semi. The truck honked, but he gave it no notice, letting it grow small in his rearview mirror.

He had told Yohji he was going out, but where he really wanted to go was away.

It had hurt more than he thought. But when Yohji kissed him, Aya fell, just for an instant, into the wonderful delusion that the blonde returned his feelings. Then the precious boon was ripped away by Yohji’s scared apology. He had never meant for it to happen.

It was too much.

~*~

Okay, he was a little drunk. Aya admitted this to himself as he had to reach twice for the doorknob. But he was not going to make a scene like some people did when they came in at, uh, two-thirty in the morning.

After a brief battle with his keys, he let himself in the back door, ignoring the fact that he had to sit down to get his boots off; he remained on the floor to work at his coat. Damn, but why did he wear so many buckles? After shedding the short jacket, he used the wall to stand and made his way into the living room and towards the stairs.

It wasn’t hard. He was a trained assassin, perfectly capable of sneaking into a house. Not that it was hard, not if you didn’t come in singing stupid songs like some stupid people. Aya would never do that.

He congratulated himself on his stealth as he clung to the banister and began to climb the steps. Since when did they have so many steps? His socked foot slipped once, sending him down to his knee. That was pretty funny, but Aya didn’t laugh. He wasn’t a giggling idiot.

He decided to ignore the fact that when he reached the top of the stairs he happened to be on all fours. Besides, he got right back on his feet and didn’t call out for help like some inconsiderate people. Like that one inconsiderate, stupid, beautiful person who always wanted his help getting to bed, the one that Aya was always tempted to take to his bed.

No, he wasn’t like some people, and that was why that person . . .

Damn it, no, he wasn’t gonna do that either. He didn’t do emotional, even if he was a little drunk. Even if he was still trying to open the door to his room, even if he had just fallen down outside that door. At least the carpet was soft to lay on.

He wasn’t like some people. He was Aya. He wasn’t like people at all.

Warm, strong hands slipped under his arms, and Aya was lifted from the floor.

Some people. They just couldn’t leave well enough alone.

~*~

If Yohji thought Aya looked fragile before, he definitely had a new point of reference now.

Cross-referencing the familiar stumbling noises with the fact that he himself was already upstairs and fairly sober, Yohji went out in the hall to investigate. While the thought of an incapacitated Aya had crossed his mind (along with a hundred disturbing scenarios of fights, sudden missions, and Schwartz), finding Aya falling down drunk had been way down on the list.

Yohji found himself pleasantly surprised.

It wasn’t as if he wanted his friend to come to any harm, but when Aya disappeared at night, his coming home with nothing more than a hangover-to-be was pretty good. And, it gave Yohji a rare chance to play knight in shining armor to the inebriated princess of his dreams.

Aya was curled up in front of his door as if he intended to sleep there, with his thin arms tucked close to his body and his hands under his head. Stepping behind him, Yohji reached down and hauled him upwards.

“Huh?” Aya mumbled, even as he fell forward. Yohji was quick to catch him around the waist, and carefully turned him around so that he could pull one of Aya’s arms over his own shoulder. The guy could hardly stand; he wasn’t buzzed, he was fucking trashed. Leave it to Aya to go all the way.

“C’mon, beautiful, bed time,” Yohji informed him, starting towards his own room.

“S’your bed tha’ way,” he was told.

“Yep. It’s softer.”

“No . . . can’ sleep n’your bed.”

“Aw, you’re gonna hurt my feelings,” Yohji returned as he opened his bedroom door and ushered them inside. “Besides, we slept in your bed last time.”

Aya blinked at that and stopped helping him walk.

“Meli’s in here anyway,” the blonde offered.

That seemed to work, and Aya let himself be dropped to Yohji’s bed. The mattress bounced a little under his weight, and he lay there in a sprawl, gray shirt riding up over his belly button and hair spread behind him. Meli, who had been sleeping on the pillow was awakened by the movement and came over to investigate, sniffing at Aya’s hair and mewling a little.

“Aya, I think you’re drunk.”

“And you’re . . .” he swallowed hard and lifted one hand haphazardly towards Meli.

“I’m what?” he questioned, trying to turn down the blankets with Aya laying longways across them.

“Cruel.”

Well that wasn’t flattering. And who the hell had just dragged his ass out of the hallway?

“Am I?”

“Yeah…you can’t…Meli,” the last word was a summons, and he tried to get the kitten to crawl up on his chest. Meli hesitated.

“Wait a second,” Yohji instructed. Taking the kitten, he set her temporarily on his own pillow. Then he went back for the other kitten; Aya was heavier, but put up just about as much resistance, a limp doll in Yohji’s arms.

He wondered if he could take off Aya’s pants and not get killed. Probably not. Unable to be completely good, he managed to free the redhead from the t-shirt, stealing a harmless caress of one bare shoulder before setting it aside.

“Tha’s what I mean,” Aya said, looking up at him.

“What?” Yohji propped his hands on his hips and stood over the younger man.

“You can’t jus’ start stu–shit and then,” he made a meaningless gesture.

Since he was being unusually talkative, Yohji indulged him with attention.

“I mean, if I said . . . okay, if I said to Melian, you’re cute, I’m . . . I’m gonna keep you, then I jus’,” he paused to think of the words, “jus’ did, said, oh, sorry, my mistake. How would that be?”

There was an accusation in there somewhere, but Yohji was having a little trouble ferreting it out.

“You can’t, you shouldn’ do that to people, Yohji!”

“How is it that you’re the one drunk and I’m still getting lectured? Shouldn’t I be telling you off right now?”

Well, that got him more of a serious look than he had counted on; Aya look downright sad.

“Yes,” he answered. “But you don’ have to.”

He turned his head away, rolling to his side and burying himself under the covers. Yohji felt awful, like he had said something, to use Aya’s word, cruel. Had he?

“Aya?”

No answer.

“I was just kidding. Honest.”

A little motion at that, maybe a hitch of breath, maybe just a nod. What had he done?

Sighing, Yohji tried to fix it the way he had fixed most of his recent screwups. Switching off the light, he went to the other side of the bed and picked up the kitten. Holding her carefully, he got under the covers. She hissed at him, now that Aya was back, and he held her only long enough to settle himself on his side, facing Aya. He couldn’t see the other’s face with him buried under the covers like that, but he guessed as good as possible, and pushed Meli in his general direction.

A pale hand, starkly visible even in the dark room, snaked out to wrap gently around the furball, and she was drawn slowly under the covers, presumably next to Aya who was whispering to her. Yohji only caught part of it.

“ . . . wrong name after all . . . shoulda been geranium, mph, fish . . . right . . .”

The next words were even less expected thought just as soft.

“Sorry Yohji…night.”

“Goodnight, Aya.”

Even though there was an Aya in his bed, Yohji still fell asleep, sure to be very disappointed with himself in the morning.

~tbc~


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