Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ The Hits Keep Coming ❯ Chapter 13

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

I know I promised I’d update Chaos next—but this wanted to go, and Chaos didn’t. Hope you enjoy. Chibi, just ‘cause you nag—err, asked—so nicely...

*******

Yohji woke on the floor, naked and alone and icky.

Alone? He checked the bed. Alone. Hell.

Now, hang on. He grinned through the pounding but familiar headache, stretched and took stock of the aches. It really was too lovely a day to get all upset just because the man hadn’t stayed. He had the morning shift, after all, how late—wait a minute. Yohji frowned. And took stock of the aches again.

“Yoh—ow...” Ken pounded on the door once, but clearly changed his mind. Welcome to my world, Ken-ken. Back to—right. Had he dreamed that? Oh please, no, not that it hadn’t been fantastic no matter what, but please, please let it be real and something that would happen again.

But try as he might, he couldn’t convince himself. Yeah, his ass hurt, but he’d landed on it more than once yesterday. He remembered the joke of a debrief, he remembered going to bed. Then he remembered Aya and being handcuffed, but he didn’t remember waking up, and he thought no matter how stoned he was—and he hadn’t been all that stoned, by the time the bastard doctor let him get near Aya, they’d all been coming down—anyway. He still thought he’d have woke up at someone handcuffing him.

There were no new marks on the headboard that he could see, but there’d been so many already—yeah. And his wrists hurt, but again, they’d been through a lot. And Aya definitely had tied him up in the—well, it couldn’t actually have been a fairy cave, that was part of the drugs.

The drugs. Hurray for hallucinogens. Somehow they’d got in their systems, had taken down their inhibitions and led to that fiasco. Omi had been swinging from the dining room chandelier when Manx brought the doctor, Ken bouncing his soccer ball around the kitchen, giggling at how it always came back to him, and Aya...

Mmm, Aya. Aya had been sword-dancing. Not katas, dancing, with his sword. Nude, with the Meep bouncing about his feet like it knew the moves. Yohji, not quite stoned stupid perhaps because he was more used to being stoned, had been trying to figure out how to get past the sword to tackle the glistening naked stunning redhead—yeah, okay, maybe he’d been stupid.

Especially since he tackled the doctor as soon as he saw the man, to keep him away from Aya. Right, make that twice he’d been tied down last night, besides the incident in question...Yuck. Shower. Think in the shower. Yohji pulled on a pair of drawstring pants and stumbled into the hall. Ow...

“Good morning, Yohji-kun!” Omi tried to say, but it came out more, “goomornigyoku,” and he grabbed his head to keep it together before he reached the end. Yohji smirked.

“Noise isn’t so funny when you’re the one hungover, eh, Omittchi?”

The boy fluttered his hand and wandered off down the hall, still clutching his head. Yohji headed for the bathroom, but Manx was in the way. Manx?

“Come on, Balinese, we need you at Magic Bus as soon as possible.”

“But—“

“Save it. You’ll be wishing you had more to put in the cup by the time Nguyen is done with you, Kudou.”

“But—“

“He wants samples of sweat, too. Come on, you’re keeping the others waiting.”

“But—“

“That too! Move!”

Kami-sama. It wasn’t enough he was an assassin, he had no life beyond what they gave him and officially he didn’t exist, he had to be a guinea pig too?

A dirty, sticky, smelly guinea pig?

“Dr. Payson was wrong,” Manx explained in the van. Holding a handkerchief to her face, Yohji wasn’t the only one aromatic this morning. “This is nothing we’ve seen before, and Nguyen wants to know more. The good news is, you’ve been pulled from active status till we get this figured out. The bad news,” she shrugged, behind the cloth she was grinning, “it’s going to be a long day.”

Oh gods. Yohji was never going to make it. No coffee till he found some overcooked pot at the hospital, having to escape to smoke, no shower, and Aya...gods, Aya. Yohji swore he could pick the redhead’s scent out of the miasma in the van, and it was doing horrible things to him. Things for which the soundtrack was, “I want to fuck you like an animal...”

Aya. How was Aya feeling this morning? Yohji stared at the perfect profile before him and tried to read it.

Irritation. Surprise. Distance, another shock. Tired, Yohji could see that in the way he held his head up. Aya didn’t droop unless he was exhausted. Between mildly tired and about-to-fall-over, he held himself more tensely to keep from showing his weariness if possible. Maybe confused, a bit embarrassed...hell, those could be explained by what had happened before Yohji went to bed. How was he going to find out about what had possibly happened after?

Hell, the only damn way was to ask. That could not end well. “Hey, Aya, tell me—did you really handcuff me to my bed and fuck me out the other side last night, or was it just a fantastic dream?” If it were real, he’d be dead for asking. If a dream, he’d be dead for dreaming it.

Gods, it had been so intense. So fucking hot...without the drugs, he’d have been sure it was real. But a lot of last night was very vivid in his brain. It could have been the drugs.

Damn it.

A little slow this morning, Aya finally felt his stare, turned to glare at him. And decided Yohji. There was no way he’d been so hot last night, and so cold this morning. Even Aya couldn’t manage that radical a change. It was a dream.

Damn it.

******

The song is, oddly enough, “Fuck You Like an Animal” by Nine Inch Nails. The verses might make a great songfic, but it’s the chorus running through Yohji’s head.

Review, please.