Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ The Rain Doesn't Grieve ❯ 21 ( Chapter 21 )

21

 

I don't want anybody else…

 

Ran ~ Daydreams

 

The clutter in my home seemed to shout at me, admonish me for allowing it to get so out of hand. I glared at it, having nothing better to offer at the moment.

 

In three days I would officially be a roommate; the idea annoyed me no end. Though I'd been moody about my recent isolation, living with Ken wasn't my idea of an ideal solution. Kritiker arranged for the necessary furnishings and other household supplies, though the apartment wasn't all that large to begin with. I felt crowded, and Ken hadn't even arrived yet.

 

The new futon sofa dominated the wall nearest the kitchen, while the dresser completed my living room's transformation into a makeshift bedroom. My favorite reading chair had been hauled into my bedroom, to occupy the other sunny spot in the apartment rather than get shoved into a dark corner where I'd never be able to use it.

 

The clean, spare lines of my home - destroyed, replaced with chaos. At least when we had lived above the flower shop we'd each had our own small apartment. Now I was condemned to share a perfectly good single with Ken, a man I knew to be a slob whenever he could get away with it. At least he could feed himself, though he wasn't nearly as good a cook as Yohji.

 

Yohji…

 

My head hurt. I lay down on the floor and stretched my back, trying to relax. The injuries from the tower still pained me, though they were fading day by day.

 

The injuries to my soul seemed determined to stay.

 

I'd seen things that day no sane man should be asked to witness, survived things no sane man could survive. I don't really believe in magic, at least when I'm awake and rational; in the deepest portions of my dreams, all bets are off. But what happened at that museum wasn't magic, it was something else, something dark and hidden and…human.

 

I had struck down the first of the cult leaders, in spite of his power. Ken had taken the second. Wild imaginings better suited to sleep swarmed over me, bringing a mid-day chill. A demon deferred will seek vengeance against those who sought to stop it. Would it come for us?

 

Had we truly stopped it?

 

“Baka,” I growled. I didn't believe in demons. Three days, and Siberian would be bounding back into my life. That I could believe in, and it made my headache worse.

 

Though Yohji and I could barely be civil to each other half the time, at least the man was neat. And handsome. With a rakish smile and eyes that sparkled…

 

I closed my eyes again and concentrated on the wood floor pressing cool against my back. The headache faded a little as I tuned in to the rest of my body, willed myself to relax. With Yohji's cocky smile now haunting my thoughts, my mood veered from superstitious gloom to something like cheer.

 

I encouraged it to wander further in that direction. It wasn't as if one of my teammates were about to wander in and find me, though I knew all too well that, in a little under three days, this privacy would be a thing of the past.

 

Slowly I became aware of the shifting temperature currents in the room, as the sun heated bands of air before allowing them to drift back into the shadows. My hands slowly unfastened my shirt, letting it fall open across my chest. Sunlight slanted into the room, painting my skin with golden warmth. I sighed and allowed my thoughts to linger on Yohji's long legs, his casual grace, as my fingers trailed over my belly. This was my secret desire, one that I couldn't even imagine confessing. Of all the men I'd ever been attracted to, only Yohji seemed a realistic match. The others…

 

My eyes drifted shut as I pretended that the sensual touch came from another's hand, gliding low to press against the heat rising there before rising to caress the planes of my chest in a casual sweep. It had been years since I had known a lover, and my body ached for it. Self-denial had become so entwined with my life it had become invisible, a barely-remembered choice. The boys in school, the sweet kisses beneath the sakura trees, all swept aside with steel.

 

Then had come Yuushi. That affair had been explosive in so many ways. We had clashed with each other from the start; perhaps that was my version of foreplay. I smiled at the memory, my hands sliding down to unbutton my pants. His hands were always cool, not cold or clammy, just cool, like polished brass. Cool like his eyes, or his kisses.

 

Sleeping with a teammate had never been my idea of a smart thing to do, though I had most certainly done so, nearly dividing the Crashers in the process. But now things were different - I had blood on my hands now; my fantasy returned to images of my more recent team.

 

Ken, annoying as hell, with his jock demeanor and toilet humor - he insisted he was straight, though his record with ladies marked him as something more akin to a doormat. Attractive? I suppose so, in that loud way of his.

 

Yohji, he of the long legs and longer stare. I felt myself smile as I pictured him sprawled across the sofa in the briefing room. He certainly knew how to cover a piece of furniture.

 

Omi…

 

I rubbed the ache between my legs and forced my mind away from that direction. Omi…was Kritiker. End of discussion.

 

Ken, too, for that matter; he was coming back to complete a two-man team.

 

After Yuushi, I'd sworn to myself that I would never again complicate my life with a teammate.

 

Yohji wasn't Kritiker anymore. The complications wouldn't follow us.

 

He was fair game, and so was I.

 

I ran my tongue over my lips and lightly stroked my erection, imagining that Yohji was seated on the futon, watching me. Excitement sparked through me at the thought; my back arched, and I gripped myself more tightly. Yes, Yohji watching, a cigarette dangling casually from one elegant hand.

 

I cupped a hand under my balls, massaging them with a slow rolling motion as my other hand palmed the head of my cock and squeezed. A soft moan trailed from my throat to be swallowed up in the sunbeams - sunbeams curling like cigarette smoke in a fine haze toward the ceiling.

 

Imagination showed me a smiling Yohji, discarding his cigarette and moving to join me on the floor. My breath came quickly as my phantom lover rained kisses down my chest, moving lower until his lips brushed my cock and his hand replaced my own upon it.

 

The hand stroking me sped up, pulling my pleasure onward.

 

Yes, he would take me in hand, then into his mouth, which must be very skilled at every form of kissing. I brushed my thumb across the tip, sliding through the sticky wetness gathering there. My belly tightened, drawing my balls up as I repeated the caress, and again, imagining Yohji's tongue in place of my fingers.

 

My eyes flew open as I came without a sound, spilling onto the polished wood.

 

I lay there until my breathing slowed and the image of Yohji's smile faded a little. But only a little.

 

If my subconscious were trying to tell me something, I got the message. I wasn't sure if I would act on it, and if so when, but it certainly gave me a wonderful daydream.

 

Then I realized what I was thinking, and frowned.

 

I was making Yohji into a prime fantasy that I might or might not ever approach in real life. Did I really want some kind of relationship with the man? Or was it just about fulfilling some sexual curiosity?

 

At the moment it didn't matter. I wasn't about to invite more chaos into my life when I was days away from total upheaval. If circumstance put us in the right place together, I would let Fate decide. Until then, my fantasy version of Yohji would keep me company.

 

If only he could keep me warm as well.

 

 

Yohji ~ Reality

 

Schuldig dozed on and off throughout the afternoon while I pretended to watch television. Considering the lame programming on at the time, he probably got the better part of the deal.

 

When my guest seemed a little more clear-headed, I cleaned his wounds again and redressed his hands. The cuts looked infected; I found some fresh penicillin capsules and gave him one, after making sure he could take the nasty things. How something so vile-smelling could be so useful never ceased to amaze me.

 

His shoulder looked like sheer hell, but there wasn't anything more I could do for that besides dose him up with ibuprofen. He refused any more codeine, and I couldn't blame him - he couldn't afford to be incapacitated any worse than he already was.

 

I made a simple dinner, something he could travel on. It was obvious to me that he wanted to leave, and I really couldn't make him stay, no matter how much I wanted to. For one moment I considered calling Omi, taking Schuldig into the protective net of Kritiker, but then I came to my senses.

 

We ate in silence.

 

After dinner, I bagged up his wrecked clothes and anything else he'd bled on. Those would go to the incinerator: I had the creepy suspicion that I didn't want any DNA traces of his in my home. His shoes and leather pants, though torn, could still be a useful barrier between him and an enemy; I put those in another bag, along with some ibuprofen and penicillin.

 

Schuldig eyed the first bag and said, “I hope you're going to burn that.”

 

My hackles went up, but I kept my tone light as I asked him, “Any chance someone will come here looking for you?”

 

Schuldig paled a little. “I sure the hell hope not.”

 

“Yeah, I was going to burn it,” I told him, that creepy feeling growing stronger by the moment.

 

Schuldig remained tense as we got to the car and hit the road. He seemed to be scowling, and I realized he must be concentrating on some kind of telepathy thing. Traffic seemed to part in front of me, as if pushed aside by the charisma of my car. I couldn't help but smile at the whimsy.

 

I coasted the Seven to a stop near the bar. “I'll look for you here in a couple of days,” I told him. “Make sure you're mending okay.”

 

“Do you want your clothes back?”

 

“You keep them,” I said with a smile. “Give you something to think about.” Give me something to think about, was more like it. Under other circumstances, I would take him dancing in those clothes, then toss them aside in a tangle of black.

 

Schuldig stared at me a moment, then leaned over and kissed me swiftly on the mouth. I kissed back, desperately regretting this goodbye already. “Be safe, Kudou,” he murmured against my lips.

 

“Watch your back,” I replied, forcing myself to let him go. I groped for something else to say. “And remember to go slow with the kid, right?”

 

He smiled. “I remember.” Schuldig paused as if waiting for me to leave first, so I did, not looking back.

 

 

Ken ~ Fetish

 

I marked off another day on my calendar, though it was still early. I couldn't wait to get back home, even if home wasn't what it used to be.

 

My muscles ached from lack of work, though I'd been exercising. Lifting weights is no substitute for combat. Though I wasn't really looking forward to sharing an apartment with Aya, I did look forward to sharing work with him again. It would be weird without the others, but I had the feeling that Yohji wouldn't hold out too much longer. He'd get that magnetic pull toward the team again, and then we'd be three strong, hunting the dark beasts as we alone could do.

 

I grinned at my reflection in the mirror. My reflection grinned back, confident in its appearance. I didn't look spacey or scared anymore, and my hair covered the scars in my scalp. The medications to keep me from having seizures seemed to be working, or else the doctors had managed to fix everything during one of the operations. I felt fantastic, if a bit rusty.

 

Rusty - oh hell! I sat down hard on the chair and gaped, not wanting to think about this but unable to look away.

 

My bagh nakh! They'd been in salt water, and sand, and gods know what else! And I hadn't been there to clean them in weeks! “Oh, man!” I groaned, miserable at the thought that my weapon, a part of my soul, had not survived our last battle.

 

Sure, Kritiker could fix me up with a new set, but I'd kind of grown fond of those. They'd saved my life more than once. It really bothered me to think of them tossed aside as so much scrap.

 

First things first, I reminded myself. In three days I'd be back in Japan. I'd have a new apartment, a grouchy roommate, and my job back. Omi would have to make sure I had a decent weapon before he sent me out, so that would take care of itself. If I have to break in a new set of claws, then that's what I'll do.

 

But first I'm getting my wheels out of storage.

 

 

 

A/N:

I don't want anybody else…

“I Touch Myself” - Divinyls Divinyls

 

Ran ~ Daydreams

No wonder the man hasn't been dating - he's fixated on an unattainable ideal. Then again, this IS Aya we're talking about…

 

Yohji ~ Reality

Schuldig and the Seven seem to be getting along better now. That's a good thing, as they're both sharing the same man.

 

Ken ~ Fetish

A fetish is the belief that a material object brings good fortune (it can also be the object itself). It can also mean an inappropriate sexual obsession. Neither rules the other out.