Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Out (or, Closet Encounters of the Yaoi Kind) ❯ Yohji's Quality Time ( Chapter 1 )

Out (aka Closet Encounters of the Yaoi Kind)

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Pseudo- Author’s Note: I have nothing to say for myself *hangs head in shame* This is extremely close to the fics I wrote way back in high school. I got stuck while writing on Ace and Kitten and Karaoke (a smut-filled ride coming soon)…and the stupidity kept creeping in…so, I took a break, reigned in the idiocy, and corralled it here for your perusal. Now, having gotten the bad puns and double entendres out of my system, I’m going to try to get back to my serious smut…hehe…

The Real Author’s Note: The idea of this popped into my head today while mulling over the plot of Our Kitten, but I think the seed was planted many months ago by a South Park episode about Tom Cruise and a closet (which, by the way, if you want a bit of thought-free funniness, search youtube for “louis lestat closet”).

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“Get out of there!”

“No!”

“This is ridiculous. Get out, now!”

“No fucking way.”

“Ken!”

The brown haired boy trotted obediently over to where Omi stood, glaring at…a door.

“What?” he asked.

“He won’t come out.”

“Huh?”

Omi gestured to the door, “Yohji won’t come out of the closet.”

“Yohji!” Ken beat his fist against the door. “Get out of there.”

“No,” the muffled voice replied from the other side.

“We need your help here.”

“Don’t care.”

“Get out, now!”

“I already tried that,” Omi offered quietly.

“Omi already tried that,” Yohji informed, louder.

They paused, thinking. Omi tried again.

“Yohji-kun, why won’t you come out of the closet?”

“I’m embarrassed.”

“Why?”

“You’l l think less of me.”

Ken stepped up, “We can’t think less of than we do when you’re hiding yourself like this!”

“Fuck off, Ken.”

“Wow, tough words, what ‘cha gonna do, beat my ass through the door?”

“I hate you,” the sullen voice behind the door replied. “Leave me alone.”

“Yohji-kun,” Omi pleaded, “please come out. I mean, we know you’re in there, so it’s not even a good hiding place.”

“…don’t care…”

“Well,” Ken’s turn, “when are you planning on coming out?”

“Let me think…never.”

“Yohji Kudou!” Omi snapped, “We have a flower shop full of school girls begging for you, and you’re not doing them any favors by being in the closet! Get out this instant!”

“No!”

“That’s it, then. I’m getting, Aya.”

“What, fuck, no Omi–“

“Too late, he left,” Ken informed. “You better get out before Aya gets down here.”

Silence emanated from the storage closet.

“Uh, Yohji, you didn’t suffocate in there, did you?”

“No. I’m not stupid.”

“No, you’re just hiding in a closet.”

“I know that, Ken. What–”

“Kudou,” Aya’s voice was a threatening interruption as he stepped up to the door, Omi standing a little behind him. “What the hell are you doing?”

“None of your damn business, Aya.”

“If you’re in the closet, then it’s my business.”

“Why?”

A frustrated sigh, “You know why.”

“It doesn’t matter, because I’m sure as hell not leaving!”

“Why?” He twitched, just a little.

“Fuck you, that’s why.”

“Kudou…if you don’t come out, I’m coming in.”

“W-what?”

“Get out of the closet, Kudou.”

“No.”

“Fine.”
< br> Whipping a key from his pocket, Aya jammed it in the lock. With a click it opened under his hand, but before Omi and Ken could protest that they should simply drag Yohji out, Aya was in and the lock clicked again. The two waited outside the door. And waited. And waited.

“Uh…Aya?” Omi tried.

“Go away.”

“What!?”

“Yo–Kudou and I are having a discussion.”

“You’re not hurting him are you?”

“Not much.”

They waited some more.

“Aya?”

“What, Omi?”

“Um…can you two come out of the closet now?”

There was some shuffling and quiet discussion from within.

“Guys?”

“We’re not in the closet.”

“What? I know you’re in there. We all know!”

“We’re not in the closet.”

“I’m talking to you right now, through the door, the closet door! We can all see that you’re in the closet.”

“No,” Yohji reiterated calmly, “we’re not.”

“Ken! Now Aya’s in the closet too! He and Yohji are in the closet together!”

It was Ken’s turn to twitch.

A curious noise came from the closet. Omi and Ken leaned close to listen.

“Ow, Aya, damn…wait…not that way…”

“Shut up and take it.”

“Fuck, Aya, wait…never mind. Give it to me, god damnit.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now. Move!”

Something clattered to the floor.

“Oh god! Fuck!”

“Yohji…”

“Don’ t let go! I’m gonna come…Aya!”

Another bang, something metallic fell to the floor followed by several loud crashes.

Then everything was quiet.

Omi looked at Ken; Ken pressed the tail of his shirt against his nose to stop the bleeding.

Both looked at the closet.

Ken spoke first, “Seems kinda intense in there.”

Omi nodded.

“Hey, Omi…”

“Yes?”

“I just remembered. There’s a spare key under the counter.”

Omi sighed, thought about glaring, then decided his life was meant to be full of such trials and went to get the key. He would, not, however, open the door.

“Here,” he forced it into Ken’s hand.

“Me? Why do I have to get them out?”

“Ken! It’s not good for them; get them out here in the open!”

Grumbling, Ken unlocked the door, knocking awkwardly before he pulled it open.

And gasped.

Aya and Yohji were on the floor…together…and under about a foot of random supplies, not to mention the two flimsy boards that had been holding said supplies.

Ken couldn’t help but laugh, all tension gone, as he watched Yohji try to get a large flower pot off his head. Omi, however, decided to expedite the situation and leant the blonde a hand in order to extract him from the mess. Yohji helped Aya in turn, and soon the two men stood in front of Omi and tried to account for their recent foray into the closet.

“You see,” Yohji began, hand already in his hair, “the hand cream was on the shelf…”
Aya nodded in agreement.

“And I tried to get it, but I couldn’t reach, so Aya helped me get up…”

Aya nodded.

“…and I was so close…but the shelf support came loose…and it was gonna fall…”

Aya nodded.

“…and Aya found a rake to prop it up, you know, one of those big rakes with the big wooden handles–“

Omi nodded.

“…anyway, he was handing it to me, but I had my hands on the shelf, so I told him to wait, but,” he was talking very fast now, not giving anyone time to nod “I couldn’t hold the shelf, so he held the handle and tried to keep it up and I said I was gonna come over and help but then the handle kinda broke and the shelf fell and we fell and the other shelf fell and . . . yeah . . .so, we had to come out of the closet.”

Aya nodded.

Omi began to massage his temples, taking long, deep breaths.

“Yohji-kun,” he said in his nicest voice, almost not threatening, “why were you in the closet to begin with?”

“I was embarrassed.”

“Of what?”

Yohji looked down, and it took Omi a moment to realize he was looking down at something. Omi followed the gaze to see…a stain.

“A stain on your shirt?”

Yohji nodded emphatically. “I couldn’t possibly be seen this was this morning! I would die, just die!”

Omi was trying very hard not to strangle him; it helped that Ken was forcibly restraining him.

“Well, Yohji, uh,” the brunette tried, “you wanna get changed and get to work?”

“Changed?”

“The stain…”

He shrugged, “I’m good with it.”

Omi was trembling, and Ken thought it best to drag him off before he killed Yohji. After all, Kritker would probably not appreciate that, having to find a new playboy was probably hard. Ken wondered, though, if they could get Weiss one that didn’t dick around in the closet.

Yohji watched them go then turned his gaze to Aya, “What?”

“You should change your shirt.”

“Why?” He glanced down to the three damp, whitish spots near the hem of his dark crop top then back to the redhead. Was Aya blushing?

“You know why,” he hissed as they walked towards the shop.

“Oh, Aya, that little bit won’t matter; I don’t really care who sees. I’m outta the closet now!”

The last line, unfortunately, was delivered in front of a particularly attentive group of fangirls who immediately shrieked for joy, whipped out video cameras, and asked him to demonstrate the basics of yaoi for them. Yohji debated, smiled pretty for the cameras, and grabbed Aya in at least ten inappropriate places.



**a few minutes later**

“Aya, love…come out of the closet.”


~end~


This is lame . . . sorry . . . I’m better now…