Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Roses and Thorns ❯ Chapter 17

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

17



“Yohji! What the hell is this?” Aya screamed, pointing to the hickeys on his neck.

“Do I have to answer that? Do you really not know what that is?” Yohji was grinning at him

“I know what that is, but…did you do that on purpose?” Aya had never ever thought he’d see something like that on his own neck. And then there were the scratches all over. He looked like he’d been attacked. He was just glad none of it hurt. The only thing that hurt were the places where he had stitches. Having his arms stretched to the headboard had done a number on the stitches in his shoulder, and his muscles spasming while Yohji had played with him last night had hurt the stitched up wound there, too. He didn’t tell Yohji that, though. He didn’t want the man to worry. Of course the stitches in the shoulder had ripped a bit. He’d had to go into the bathroom and remove the old ones and re-stitch the wound himself in order to hide it from Yohji.

“Of course I did. Its called marking your territory.”

“You going to piss on my shoes next?” Aya shoved past him, glaring. The last thing he wanted was to go to work today and have all those sickening fan girls asking him about it.

“Aya, are you ever going to ask me whatever it is that’s been on your mind?” Yohji asked. Aya shrugged. He didn’t really know. He didn’t want to ask it anymore.

“Its not important,” Aya could feel a slight trembling in his hands. Asking it would hurt Yohji, and probably drive a wedge between them. He didn’t want that.

“Its obviously bothering you, Aya, you didn’t sleep at all last night, I can tell. And if its one of your mood killer questions it can’t be good. So, fess up. What’s eating at you?” Yohji was behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist. Aya was trying to make breakfast, Goddamnit!

“Do I look like I want to cuddle right now, get off of me!” Aya shouted. He felt Yohji withdraw immediately, and felt bad. But it was his rule. He hadn’t had any tea yet, and he was starving. Everyone knew to stay out of the kitchen this early.

“Are you two fighting already?” Ken asked, rubbing at his eyes.

“Go to hell!” Aya roared at Ken, storming toward him. Ken bolted out of the kitchen and ran to the table, taking the washcloth with him to wipe it down.

Omi was smart enough to walk straight to the table without a word. At least Omi is well trained! Aya shook his head as Yohji plugged in the kettle.

Aya turned on two burners and set the pans on top, greasing them before going to work on chopping up vegetables. He didn’t feel like going all out this morning. He hadn’t gotten much sleep. He couldn’t get that question out of his mind. He’d spent the night hating himself for wanting an answer. It wasn’t fair to ask. It would probably break Yohji’s heart to ask, and he had a feeling that the answer would break his own. He’d thought he could ask it last night, but even if Yohji had agreed to him using it as a safety word there was no way he would’ve asked.

Aya dumped the vegetables into a large mixing bowl filled with eggs, stirred it, and then poured it into the pans.

He threw some toast into the toaster. Next he looked at the coffee maker. He had no idea how to use this thing. He supposed the only way to find out was to pull it apart and see how it worked.

Aya flipped it over onto its side. Immediately Ken was there, gently taking it from him with a very careful ‘I’ve got it, Aya.’ He was glad. He really didn’t want to start unscrewing all the screws and pulling the machine apart. If it were up to him they wouldn’t even have the damned thing. Let them boil water on the stove and dump their gross coffee beans into it, then strain it. It couldn’t be that hard!

He watched Ken out of the corner of his eye, he wanted to see how it was done. If the damned boy would just move a little bit more Aya could see what he was doing.

He could see Ken pouring water in, but into where? He could smell the coffee beans, so he knew Ken had already put them into…where? Aya would have to experiment with that machine when no one was around.

Now he was frustrated. Hell, he didn’t even know where the on button was on the damned thing!!! Aya put a teabag in his cup and poured the hot water on top, covering it to let it steep.

Aya grabbed the pieces of toast and buttered them, slapping them onto two plates. He shoved more toast into the toaster before rolling omelettes onto the plates. He walked over to the table and put the food in front of Ken and Omi. Next he grabbed two glasses, filled them with orange juice and handed it to the boys.

Okay, now he just had to wait for the toast and his and Yohji’s would be finished too.

He shook his head as Ken passed his orange juice to Omi. Shit! Ken didn’t like juice. He’d just made the damned coffee. Aya knew that he wasn’t himself, but he didn’t need the boys to be whispering about him where he could hear the sounds but not the words.

He heard Yohji quietly warn the boys to shut the hell up when he noticed that Aya was watching them.

Aya quickly buttered the toast and set them on two plates before dishing out the last two omelettes.

He knew it was unlike him to make the same breakfast more than once a week. He usually tried to mix it up, but his brain didn’t want to focus. God, he hoped there was a mission tonight.

Aya brought the two plates to the table and set one in front of Yohji. After quickly looking the table over to make sure it had been cleaned properly Aya set his own plate down.

He dumped the teabag into the garbage and quickly poured Yohji a coffee. He set both drinks on the table before sitting down.

“Aya, did I do something to…” Aya closed his hand over Yohji’s mouth and pressed his fork against Yohji‘s hand, putting just enough pressure for Yohji to jerk his hand away.

“No talking,” Aya reminded him. If he had to remind Yohji again it was going to get bloody. When Aya pulled his hand away from Yohji’s mouth he winced. He knew he’d stitched that wound too damned tight last night! He could feel it bleeding.

“Aya, you’re bleeding!” Omi shouted. Shit, he knew he should’ve worn the black T-shirt this morning, but he had decided on a blue one. Now it was ruined.

“Its fine.” Aya said, getting up from the table to go and stitch it again. It was hard to stitch your own shoulder though, I mean he’d had to use the mirror to properly see what he was doing.

Yohji was right behind him, wrapping an arm around him and leading him to the bathroom.

Aya shook his head no when Yohji told him to lift his arms up to get the shirt off. It had stung to get it on in the first place. No, he was going to cut the damned thing off. It was garbage now anyway.

Aya opened up the first aid kit and pulled out the scissors and cut the shirt off, stuffing it into the garbage can.

“Aya, it looks horrible. It might be infected.”

“Its only been stitched for eight hours, Yohji, its not infected!” Aya barked. He paused, damn it! He’d let that slip out, too. Yohji pulled the stitches as quickly as possible.

“Did I rip your stitches last night? Damn it! Aya, you should’ve told me! I would’ve stopped! That’s what the safety word is for, for me to stop!” Aya forced himself to stay still while Yohji disinfected the wound before he started stitching.

“Its not like it was going to un-rip itself just because I said a magic word. Don’t be an idiot.”

“No, but I could’ve re-stitched it myself and made sure it was done properly.”

“And then you would’ve felt bad and stayed away from me. I’m not a pity case, Yohji. I don’t want you to treat me like one.”

“What about the other one, is it okay? I stayed away from it as much as possible. Did I rip it, too? It looks pretty red,” Yohji took a look at it before standing up. Yeah, it was pretty red, but it wasn’t infected and it wasn’t ripped.

“Promise me you’ll tell me next time I really hurt you,” Yohji was staring him in the eye.

“Why does it matter so much?” Aya didn’t get it. When Yohji was hurt Aya cared that he was hurt, but didn’t treat him any different.

“Because you should never hurt because of me, not a bad hurt! Do you understand that?” Yohji’s hands were digging into his arms hard enough that they were going to leave bruises behind. Aya winced as his shoulder strained. Yohji quickly pulled away, looking shocked that he’d hurt him so effortlessly.

“I’m sorry, Aya. I keep fucking up, don’t I? I want to take care of you and I just keep hurting you.”

“I don’t need taking care of, Yohji. And I don’t mind being hurt. I’ve done a lot of bad things in my life. I don’t deserve the kind of comfort you’re offering.”

“Is that what your question was about? You deserve to be loved, Aya. Everyone does.”

“That wasn’t…that wasn’t my question.” Aya looked down. He wished to hell that it had been his question.

“Then tell me!”

“If you loved her so much how can you claim to love me? Does that mean you didn’t love her, or that you don’t love me?”

“I’ll see you downstairs, Aya. Your stitches look fine,” Yohji was glaring at him. He knew the blonde would hate him for it. Yohji left the room, slamming the bathroom door behind him.

If love hurts this much then I don’t want any part of it!