Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Snippets of Daily Life ❯ Party ( Chapter 2 )

Disclaimer: I don't own. Sigh.

 

A/N: I like reviews, comments, suggestions!

 

 

WAAAAAHHHH: I was a complete idiot and forgot to mention. Danke dv for beta-ing for me

 

KD: you'd better

Bly: I want a sequel before I even think of making Yohji happy :P

dv: what's so appropriate of the spam code being hmph

dimonyo: me too. Wouldn't he be so cute!

missy: you can write the compensation part in Scarlet Letters :P

goth: sorry I plan to actually cover everybody in this fic (with Yohji and Aya making a large appearance because I can't resist). Now go write if you are finished with exams.

 

Part IX

 

Yohji's nose was assaulted before his eyes were.

 

“Omi where the hell are you going?”

 

“To a birthday pa—”

 

Before Omi could finish speaking, he was grabbed by the hand and hauled bodily to the bathroom.

 

“Shower. Now.”

 

“But Yohji-kun I'll be late.”

 

“Good.”

 

Yohji leaned back against the doorway, indicating that he was there to stay.

 

Omi knew better than to try and change the other blonde's mind when he was in that mood.

 

Omi closed the door on Yohji and proceeded to get undressed.

 

Hopefully a quick shower would satisfy the playboy, he had ten minutes before he absolutely had to leave otherwise he really would be late.

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

Omi opened the bathroom door and was pleased to discover that the hallway was Yohji free.

 

He just needed some clean underwear and he could -

 

Yohji had apparently used the time that he was in the shower to make himself comfortable in his room.

 

Omi stalked up to the older assassin and shoved his feet off of his desk and then plucked the cigarette out from Yohji's mouth and ground it out on the window sill. He also flung open the window to air out his room.

 

“Geez Yohji-kun how many times have I told you not to a) let yourself into my room and b) smoke in my room?”

 

Omi didn't give Yohji the chance to reply, “Do you know how long it will take to get the smell out of my room now? And I just got it out from your last unexpected visit. Now if you'll excuse me I need to get dressed and in case you hadn't noticed I am only in my towel, the window's open and it's February, meaning it's cold.”

 

“What are you planning to wear to the party?”

 

“Have you even listened to a word I said Yohji-kun? Get out so that I can get dressed!”

 

“Cigarettes. Smell. Window open. Now what are you wearing?”

 

Omi gave up. “The same thing I was just wearing, just different underwear which I am not currently wearing because someone won't leave the room.”

 

Yohji clearly was not listening. “No, no, no that look is all wrong for you. God, who gave you those clothes? Ken?”

 

“As a matter of fact he did.”

 

“You took fashion advice from Mr. I-wear-goggles-for-no-reason? Why on earth didn't you come to me?”

 

“Mr. I-bare-my-body-to-the-world? No thank you.”

 

“Hmm. There's a girl you like who's going to be there, am I right?”

 

“What? How did you know?” Omi sputtered.

 

“What type of girl is she?”

 

“What?”

 

“Yohji-kun I just want to get dressed so that I can go to the party.”

 

“Is she sweet and shy? Or kind of forward? Is she a tomboy? No, that would be more Kenken's type. Hmm…” Yohji walked to Omi's cupboard and calmly flipped through it, all the while mumbling to himself.

 

Omi caught a few words as Yohji casually dismissed most of his wardrobe `student, shy and sexy' among them. He wished the older assassin would just leave so that he could get dressed.

 

“Eureka! Omi this is perfect, here put this on.” Yohji threw the clothes that he had found at Omi causing the boy to fumble and catch them, and nearly lose his hold on his towel.

 

“Yohji-kun, I already have clothes,” the boy whined.

 

“What? These? They should be burnt, they smell like Ken.” Omi wondered if that was such a bad thing.

 

“Yes Omi, if you want to attract this girl the last thing you want to do is look and smell like Ken. A jock. She's not the type that'd go for that type.”

 

Since when could the taller assassin read minds?

 

“I can't read minds Omittchi. I can however, read expressions on people's faces,” the older blonde teased.

 

“Now get dressed while I go and get something.”

 

Omi stared at Yohji's back in disbelief as the man turned and walked out the door. Yohji had finally left him in privacy so that he could get dressed and now he was making it sound as if Omi was the one who was keeping him back.

 

Omi ran to the door and locked it praying that it would buy him enough time to get dressed and then hopefully, if he was lucky, Yohji would still not be back yet and he could leave and Yohji would be none the wiser.

 

Omi was zipping up the pants that Yohji had given him to wear when the knock sounded on his door.

 

“Omittchi, you decent?”

 

Omi snarled at the door, and grabbed his shirt hurriedly shoving his arms in his sleeves and fighting with the buttons. He was trying to be fully dressed before -

 

Too late.

 

Yohji entered, a large box in his arms and his lock-pick set on top.

 

“Hey Omi, I found what I wanted.”

 

“Good for you.”

 

Yohji ignored the sarcasm in Omi's voice and dropped the box on his bed, it was so heavy it only bounced a little, and Omi could hear the muffled clattering of glass.

 

Curious despite himself Omi sidled up to the box as Yohji opened it, and was not surprised to see several smaller boxes inside.

 

Yohji pulled out the top box and Omi could barely discern the words slutty and forward written in Yohji's deplorable scribble.

 

Yohji set that box on the bed and pulled out several more reading sporty, clean, sporty guys and intellectual.

 

Omi hadn't a clue what the hell was in those boxes.

 

Yohji eventually found what he was looking for and presented it to Omi; it was a box that read shy.

 

With a great deal of trepidation, Omi took the box from Yohji and opened it.

 

Peering inside Omi was pleasantly surprised that the box contained nothing more than four bottles of cologne.

 

Omi turned to the other assassin.

 

“Just pick a scent from that box, all those colognes have been tried and tested to see what types of girls or guys in some cases they attract. Any one in that box will work, I guarantee it.”

 

Omi sniffed and rejected two of the four in the box before he found one that he liked. Omi positioned the bottle two inches away from himself and prepared to squirt.

 

“What are you doing?” Yohji cried, grabbing the bottle from his hand.

 

“But, but you told me -”

 

“It's for a shy girl, you have to be subtle. You can't just spray that scent on like if it was water. It'll overpower you and her, you have to tease and taunt, draw her in. Geez you are like a bull in a china shop, rampaging through the girl's affections.”

 

Omi wondered what the hell Yohji was talking about.

 

“Here, let me do it.”

 

Yohji artfully spritzed Omi with the contents of the bottle, he did it so lightly that Omi could barely tell that he was wearing cologne.

 

“Good, run along now.”

 

Omi glanced at the time, and realised that he was already half an hour late.

 

“Don't run to the party Omi. You want to be fashionably late, it'll make an impression I promise and whatever you do don't apologise for being late. You are too cool for that. Get me?”

 

Omi nodded his head, but didn't really understand what Yohji was telling him. He'd take the other blonde's advice just this once and see how it turned out.

 

Omi walked to the door, leaving Yohji to repack the large box of colognes.

 

“Oh and Omi?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Um, do me a favour and don't tell Aya I still have this,” Yohji waved his hand at the box, “He thinks I threw it away a while ago.”

 

Omi chuckled. Aya was a bit possessive of the blonde assassin since they had gotten together and Yohji was not known for his steadfast relationships. He probably would be highly upset that Yohji still owned a box of colognes designed to attract others.

 

Depending on how this party went, would determine if Omi ratted Yohji out or not. Yohji had better not have screwed him or else Yohji would be screwed, or perhaps knowing Aya, not screwed.

 

 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

Yohji got the box hidden in his secret hiding place, just as he heard the Porsche pull up.

 

Yohji wandered downstairs to greet his love.

 

“Ay~an I've missed -”

 

“What is that smell?” Aya sniffed.

 

Shit, was he smelling the cologne that he had sprayed on Omi?

 

“It smells like -fdgfd”

 

“Aya, don't you want to go out for dinner?”

 

“—shy girl scent, isn't it?”

 

Aya's eyes were dark and stormy. They were in the kitchen. Kitchens had knives. Aya was close to the knife drawer. Backpedal, Kudoh.

 

“Honestly Aya it isn't what you think. Aya? Aya!”

 

“Shi-ne Yohji!”

 

Shit, Yohji did what every warm blooded man did when confronted with a gorgeous lover whose eyes were spitting fire and whose hands were clutching the biggest knife their kitchen had, he turned tail and ran.

 

Moral of the story: Nice guys finish last.