Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Shades of Grey ❯ Chapter 4

Part Four

"Nagi."

Nagi stopped outside his door, his hand on the doorknob. Schuldich was standing at the end of the hall, in his doorway. Nagi turned partially around.

"What, Schu?" he asked. "I have homework."

Schuldich smiled a lazy, catlike smile. "You're home so late," he purred. "What were you doing?"

Nagi didn't like the look in Schuldich's eyes.

"I stopped for food on the way home from school," he said casually. Normally he was a good liar, but with Schuldich you just had to pray. Schu could break down even his shields. He did NOT want Crawford to know that he'd just met with Omi, and if Schu ever found out… he stared at Schuldich calmly, daring him to say something.

"I saw you with the Weiss kitten, Nagi," he drawled. His eyes were amused, lingering on the stubbornly impassive face of the boy in front of him. "Imagine what would happen if Crawford found out."

"He won't find out, will he, Schuldich?" Nagi said with narrowed eyes, his face cold, aloof.

Schuldich grinned easily. "Hey, I like secrets."

Nagi gave him a frosty look and went into his room, locking the door behind him. He flopped onto his bed on his stomach, cradling his head on his arms. He thought about the last four hours, and felt a foolish smile try to force its way onto his lips. He buried his face in his arms, trying unsuccessfully to stop the grin spreading across his face.

Omi had been so cute, sitting on that bench pretending to write. Once he'd gotten over his initial surprise over Twilight's true identity, he'd been able to appreciate for the first time the older boy's big blue eyes and feathery blond hair. There was something so innocent about Omi. He was innocent in a way Nagi himself had never been, innocent and a little naïve. It was cute, and made Nagi want to protect him.

Nagi smiled. They'd had such a good time at dinner and in the teashop afterwards that Omi had asked if they could meet the next morning and spend the day together. There was no school tomorrow, so they agreed to meet at the park again and do whatever they felt like all day long.

Nagi was relieved that Omi had decided not to stop talking to him. For some reason he and Omi had been drawn to each other. Maybe it was because they were both the youngest assassins in rival groups, still in school, still adolescents. Maybe it was because they were both lonely. For whatever reason, Nagi was glad they could spend time together, if they were careful. Being with Omi was so much fun. Crawford was such a tight-ass he didn't approve of anyone having fun.

Of course, Nagi reflected, Crawford constantly had to deal with the consequences of Schuldich's idea of "fun". Maybe Crawford was just tired of it. He knew that he was. He frowned, wondering if he should tell Omi that Schuldich had seen them today, then decided not to. Omi might panic and refuse to see him again. He'd be a lot worse off with his teammates than Nagi would if their association became known. Maybe Schuldich would be nice this time and keep it a secret.

Right.

Omi sat at the table in the living room, staring with unseeing eyes at his history book. His lips still tingled from the shy, fleeting kiss Nagi had brushed across his lips as they left the teashop. He didn't know what to do. He'd had so much fun today with Nagi - who would have supposed the cold, ruthless fifteen year old could have fun? Omi wanted to see more of him - a lot more, which was why he'd suggested spending the day together tomorrow. They'd become so close online, and now it felt like they had to start all over again. This time, however, they didn't have to leave anything out.

Omi absently brushed a finger over his lips. Nagi's had been so soft, and that kiss had been sweet. He blushed just thinking about it. He hadn't expected anything like that from Nagi. Nagi's real self was so far from the impassive demeanour that was his defence against the life he led. Omi knew exactly how Nagi felt, hiding his own true self from everyone. The only person who really knew him well was Ken.

Omi sighed. It was a bad situation, and it could only get worse. If the rest of Weiss found out about him and Nagi, he could be in big trouble. They might even be ordered to kill him, but remembering the way Nagi had looked at him, his resolve strengthened. No one was going to find out. They'd be careful, but Omi wasn't going to give up a chance to be happy. He wouldn't be a part of Weiss forever, and maybe afterwards he and Nagi could live however they wanted to.

Ken came in and found him sitting there, lost in thought.

"Whatcha doing, Omi?" he asked. "Don't try and tell me you're studying." He grinned at Omi, flipping a chair around and sitting down, arms folded over the back of the chair. He rested his cheek on his arm and watched Omi with bright eyes. Omi looked back at him, considering. Could he tell Ken? Ken, of all of the others, would understand. And he wouldn't tell anyone else. Aya still wanted all of Schwartz to die after what they almost did to Aya-chan. Then again, Ken hated Schwartz for his own reasons. It would be better not to say anything at all to anyone.

"I'm just tired, Ken-kun," Omi said instead.

"You were gone all day," Ken said. "Where'd you go?" He looked like he hoped Omi had had a date.

Omi hated lying to Ken, but he had no choice. If he said he'd had a date, Ken wouldn't rest until he knew everything.

"Study date," he replied, reasoning that it wasn't - exactly - a lie. He and Nagi had certainly studied each other intently today. A smile twitched at his lips, and he pretended to yawn.

"You should go to bed, Omi," Ken said. "Unless you want to watch a late soccer game with me?" He looked hopeful.

"No, thanks Ken-kun, but I'm too tired. Why don't you ask Yoji-kun to watch with you?" Omi couldn't figure out the expression that flew over Ken's face.

"Umm, I could I guess," Ken said. "Oyasumi, Omi."

"Oyasumi, Ken-kun." Omi picked up his book and left for his room before Ken could come up with any other dangerous questions. He wondered at the strange expression Ken had had when he mentioned Yoji, and wondered if the two had had a fight. They'd been on good terms last week… but lately Ken seemed to be avoiding Yoji, even rearranging the schedule so he wouldn't have to work with him. Omi wondered if he should talk to Yoji and figure out what was going on, but decided to leave it till tomorrow. Sometimes he wondered what the rest of Weiss would do without him.

Ken was relaxed for the first time in almost a week, lounging on the sofa in the living room. Soccer was on television, and he was alone. He loved having Yoji around him, but trying to pretend disinterest was really getting to him. Yoji had looked so damn good lately, and it was all Ken could do not to jump him in the Koneko. That was why he'd arranged their schedules the way he had. It wouldn't do to disappoint the fan girls. He wondered if Yoji was dressing on purpose for him. He felt a grin tug at his lips. Too bad Yoji had gone out tonight. Aya was somewhere with Aya-chan, and Omi had gone to bed. It would have been a perfect opportunity to capitulate. Oh well, it was Yoji's loss. At least he could watch the soccer without being constantly aware of Yoji's distracting presence in the house.

Yoji sat at the bar in the crowded club. He stared morosely into his glass. It wasn't working. Why wasn't it working? Nobody could resist his charm when he focused it on them. Ken definitely shouldn't be able to. Judging by what Ken had said to him that night, Ken had wanted him for a long time. So why was he playing shy now? It didn't make sense, and the more Ken avoided him the more Yoji wanted him.

Yoji drained his glass, and set it down on the bar with a thump. He made his decision and left the club, walking home through the warm night. He was Kudo Yoji, and Ken wouldn't be able to hide any longer. After tonight, he wouldn't want to. Yoji smiled a deceptively lazy smile. Poor Ken wouldn't know what hit him.

The television set was the flickering in the room when Yoji opened the door of the apartment. It was halftime in the match, and the open refrigerator cast a wedge of light over the floor of the kitchen, Ken's shadow stretching long over the tiles. Yoji chuckled and Ken jumped, banging his head on the top shelf of the fridge.

"Ow! Yoji that was mean!" He stood in front of the refrigerator, rubbing his head with a scowl on his face. His upraised arm pulled his t-shirt a little above the waistband of his jeans, exposing a line of firmly muscled stomach. Yoji wanted to run his fingers over that skin and make Ken squirm.

Ken noticed his look and lowered his arm. He walked from the kitchen into the living room, sitting down on the couch again.

"You're home early," he said conversationally to Yoji. "Nobody interesting at the club?" Yoji sauntered towards the couch, sinking gracefully down beside Ken, so close he could feel the heat of Ken's skin.

"Not really," he replied. He watched Ken's eyes travel over him, taking in the outfit he'd chosen. Yoji stretched, showing off his long, lean body, then relaxed, leaning back against the couch. The two motions had combined to cause his shirt to ride up a little. He heard Ken's breathing quicken, saw his eyes go a little darker. So far it was working.

Ken gathered his scattered thoughts with effort.

"Why not?" he asked, turning back to the television. "You don't usually have trouble in that department."

Yoji's low laugh shivered over Ken's skin.

"No, I don't, do I?" Yoji said. His hand drifted over to land high up on Ken's thigh. He felt Ken shift under his hand and tightened his grip, a little smile playing over his lips, and intent purpose in his eyes. He watched the emotions fly across Ken's face - surprise, lust, and, oddly, triumph - before he leaned over and claimed Ken's lips in a demanding kiss, propelling him backwards on the couch.

Ken gave himself up to Yoji's kiss. It had worked exactly as he'd planned it, and he almost laughed in sheer delight. Yoji's hands were tugging at his shirt, his lips leaving Ken's to pull it over Ken's head. The cool air danced over Ken's skin and he pulled Yoji close, as much for warmth as for the feel of Yoji's body against him. The friction of Yoji's shirt against his chest caused his nipples to harden, every movement Yoji made rubbing against the sensitive skin. Their tongues twined together in a savage dance, tasting and savouring each other's mouths.

"G-gomen, Yoji, I didn't know you were home! I…" Yoji's head whipped around and he saw Omi hovering in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, a glass of water in his hand. He watched as Omi edged towards the hall, his face embarrassed. Omi's eyes slid to Ken and widened, then he turned and fled back to his room.

"K'so," Yoji muttered. Ken looked so delicious, stretched wantonly on the couch, painted with the flickering light of the television. He wanted to finish what they'd started.

"Ken," he began. Ken interrupted him.

"I understand, Yoji. We'll just forget it ever happened, ok?" Ken got up from the couch and bent to retrieve his shirt. Yoji grabbed his arm.

"No, that's not what I…" he trailed off. Ken looked up at him in surprise. Yoji felt awkward.

"What did you mean, Yoji?" Ken sounded curious, but his face was expressionless, waiting.

Yoji released his arm and fiddled with the buttons on his shirt, then decided to brazen it out. He flashed Ken his most charming smile.

"If we go to my room there won't be any more untimely interruptions," he said, and walked out of the living room, not looking back to see if Ken followed him.

Ken remained where he was for a few seconds, and then followed. He'd been so sure that once Omi had seen them, that that would be the end of it. Yoji may have enjoyed their tryst the other night, but Ken was positive that he didn't want that to become known. He still wasn't sure what was going on. Yoji was only charming around pretty girls or people he wanted to disarm. He didn't like the fact that Yoji was using it on him.

Cautiously Ken approached Yoji's door. It was open, and Yoji was reclining on his bed. Ken hesitated in the doorway, and when Yoji motioned him in, stepped inside and closed the door.

The vibe was wrong, Ken thought. It was almost as if the tension in the air was more nervous than sexual. He leaned against the door and observed the picture Yoji presented wordlessly. He watched the confident grin fade, saw Yoji's discomfort grow as he stood there, saying nothing. When Yoji began to fidget, Ken broke the silence.

"Something's bugging you. What is it?" he asked bluntly.

Yoji looked surprised. "Nothing's bugging me."

Ken snorted. "Then why the charm, Yoji? It's what you always hide behind when you're uncomfortable," he pushed relentlessly, ignoring the flicker of anger that passed over Yoji's features. "I know that much about you by now."

Yoji glared at him for a moment, then dropped his gaze. He reached for the pack of cigarettes on his bedside table and lit one. He took a deep drag and blew the smoke towards the ceiling.

"Sit down," he said to Ken, nodding at the bed. Ken pushed himself away from the door and settled on the end of the bed warily, waiting for Yoji to continue.

Yoji smoked in silence for a few minutes. When he noticed Ken's impatience, he sighed, then shrugged. Might as well talk about what was bothering him. He crushed the cigarette into the ashtray and linked his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling.

"Ken," he began, and then stopped, unsure of how to start. He darted a quick glance at Ken, who was sitting motionless at the foot of the bed, his body tense. He tried again. "I'm not really into other guys," he said, not daring to look at Ken as he said it.

"Then why did you…" Ken started to say. Yoji cut him off.

"I don't know." He closed his eyes.

"You can't tell me that you didn't like being with me," Ken protested. "I know you did. Or why else did you spend the last week chasing after me?"

Yoji felt his cheeks redden. Had he been that obvious? He'd tried to seduce Ken without him noticing. The thought plunged his mind into confusion again. He wasn't into other guys, so why the hell did he spend so much time thinking about Ken? Maybe it was just because Ken hadn't seemed interested after that night. That must have been it. He just couldn't stand being ignored when he was trying to be desirable.

He couldn't even convince himself, he thought despairingly, how was he going to make Ken believe that?

"I don't know, Ken," he repeated. "Don't ask me to explain because I can't." He opened his eyes and stared at Ken.

Ken was quiet for a few minutes. Finally he asked, "Is this about Omi? Because he saw us?"

Yoji shook his head. "It's not about anyone but me. It's not even about you, Ken," he concluded softly.

He watched the hurt rise in Ken's eyes, followed swiftly by resignation.

"I guess I've been thinking it was too good to be real," Ken said quietly. "Good night, Yoji." He levered himself off the bed and walked slowly to the door, not looking back. The least he could do was leave with dignity, even if all the fragile hopes he'd started to build were shattering around him.

Yoji watched him go, torn between desire and self-denial. As Ken pulled open the door he said softly, "Wait."

Ken's hand stilled on the doorknob but he didn't turn around.

"I didn't say I wanted you to go," Yoji purred, rapidly making up his mind. His voice wrapped around Ken like silk and threatened to drag him under, set his pulse racing. "I never said I didn't want you."

Ken turned to stare at Yoji in astonishment and disbelief. His temper flared and he exploded. "What the hell are you playing at, Yoji? First you throw yourself at me, then you tell me you're not into other guys and then when I attempt to leave you tell me you still want me? You can't run hot and cold on me, Yoji. I'm not one of your stupid bimbos to play with!" His eyes flashed angrily.

Ken certainly looked sexy all flushed and angry, Yoji thought distractedly, and then pulled his attention back to what Ken had said. Ruefully he acknowledged that he really wasn't being fair to Ken. He'd better tell him all of it or working with the younger man would be unendurable, and sex would be out of the question.

"Ken, sit down, please? I promise to tell you why I'm so…" He flourished a hand gracefully, unable to say exactly what he meant. Ken looked like he was ready to just give up and leave. "Please?" Yoji asked again, aware that Ken had every right to be pissed off and leave without waiting for an explanation.

"This better be worth it," Ken muttered and sat down again.

Yoji regarded him thoughtfully for a few moments. "Did you enjoy what happened between us the other day, Ken?" he asked. It was almost a rhetorical question; he knew the answer. When Ken nodded, he continued. "Are you always uke, Ken? Don't you ever want to be seme?"

Ken looked surprised, then answered slowly, "I'm not always uke. I like being both." He had never had to consider the question before. The very few other men he'd been with had allowed him to be both. "Why?"

Yoji looked uncomfortable. He lit another cigarette. Ken went over to open the window, leaning on the sill, giving Yoji time to figure out what to say.

"I don't like being uke," Yoji continued. "You're not the first man I've been with. The only other one…" he trailed off, deep embarrassment washing over him, "…was Schuldich."