Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ The Sous-Chef ❯ Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 

Schuldig hated being on flights, trains, and other forms of public transportation for longer than about two hours. Even if they were traveling first class, he would get fidgety and cranky. Since they'd had to do a lot of traveling the past five years, Schuldig had gotten very good at tranqing himself with his personal pharmacy - Valium, Klonopin, Luminal, Amytal, Vicodin, etc. - on long trips, and since the flight from Charles De Gaulle to Narita was nearly twelve hours long he was already out. And drooling down my neck, Yohji observed, gently repositioning his unconscious boyfriend so that his head was on his own seat cushion.

 

Yohji wiped his neck with a cocktail napkin, and reclined his seat. He told himself he was going to try and sleep, but knew he wouldn't be able to, now that he was free to think about Aya. He'd spent most of the time since his phone call to Omi trying not to think about Aya. Schuldig was very insecure where Aya was concerned, and not without cause. The only reason Yohji had started sleeping with Schuldig in the first place was to sort of spite Aya, and he hadn't even developed feelings for the telepath until after Aya dumped him in favor of running off with his own sister.

 

That just sounded wrong, even in his own head. Damn that Aya-chan, anyway, for putting stupid thoughts like that in his head.

 

Moving on. Schu was aware that Yohji still loved Aya, would always love him, and so he was understandably squirrelly whenever the man's name came up. Not that Schuldig had anything to worry about; Schu had stuck by him through thick and thin, and truly loved him. Aya had left him, and hadn't loved him - at least, if he had, he never said so. And he'd grown to love Schuldig more than he'd thought it was possible to love someone. Maybe as much or more than he'd loved Asuka; he couldn't really tell because his feelings for Asuka had faded so much over the years. Both loving her and losing her…thinking about her was like looking at an album of sun-bleached photographs. It had made him sad at first, until he realized that this was normal, this was what was supposed to happen to memories. He no longer had to feel like her ghost was hovering over him, restless and unhappy. He could imagine her at peace, and it felt right that she should fade from this world so that she could be whole in the next. He still wouldn't ever forget her.

 

His memories of Aya, though…those were still quite vivid.

 

He could clearly remember the night their relationship had started - well. That wasn't quite accurate. He remembered the first night they'd fucked.

 

*******

 

Yohji, damp from the shower and dressed only in loose drawstring sweatpants, flopped down face-first onto his bed. The mission that night had been particularly wretched. Not because it had been terribly grueling, or bloody, or because one of Weiss had been wounded badly. In fact, it had been pretty simple, except for the storm.

 

They had been assigned four targets: a meaty, balding drug-lord named Hitomi and three young men who were his main distributors. Typical Weiss mission. Their information said the targets would be meeting some competitors in a movie theater in the middle of the night, and Weiss planned to ambush them after they left. The rain had been coming down in sheets, blown about by nearly gale-force winds. They could barely see two feet in front of them.

 

The targets had parked on the street, which made approaching them riskier, but the rain worked for them in that respect. They each focused on one target. There was no way to discern who was who; the four shapes were just a blur of dark, watery coats and hats. In a matter of seconds, all four of targets were dead on the street. Aya phoned Kritiker for the clean-up, and they hurried home to wait for Manx's phone call assuring that all was taken care of.

 

Instead, Manx showed up at their back door. Yohji let her in, confused. She had a hangdog expression and a vein in her forehead was throbbing.

 

“I don't know how this happened,” she kept saying, as Aya made her some tea, which he spiked with brandy.

 

After they were all seated around the kitchen table, and Manx had taken a few grateful sips of her toddy, she said, “Boys, this wasn't your fault. Someone in recon screwed up, and when I figure out who…” She trailed off, her hands curling into claws, face a mask of wrath.

 

Aya had gone very still. “We killed the wrong people,” he stated, and Ken jumped out of his chair.

 

“What?! No fucking way!” he yelled, blood draining from his face.

 

Yohji and Omi were silent, watching Manx, who slumped.

 

“We were set-up, we think by one of the Hitomi's assistants. I haven't been able to confirm it yet. You took out Hitomi, but…”

 

“Who else did we kill, Manx?” Yohji had asked quietly.

 

“His three daughters.”

 

His three daughters.

 

Yohji got up off his bed and walked over to his closet. He shifted around the liquor bottles on the shelf above the hangers until he found his 16-year-old Lagavulin. He'd been saving it for a special occasion; what was more special than the first time Weiss had ever killed the wrong people?

 

Scotch and shotglass in hand, he strode back to his bed and sat up against the pillows. He poured himself a shot and raised it up in a toast.

 

“Kaitlin, eighteen years old,” he said. He had killed her, Kaitlin. Omi had looked up the Kritiker forensics lab photos after Manx left. Kaitlin had been nearly decapitated.

 

Yohji took the shot, and poured another. Raised it.

 

“Yoko, seventeen years old,” he said, and drained the glass. Yoko had been hit by three poison darts - Omi tended to be a bit excessive when visibility was very low, as long as he knew where all his team members were.

 

Yohji poured the shot for the last girl.

 

“Nanami, fifteen years old.” Only a week away from her sixteenth birthday, poor kid. Aya had gotten her from behind, slicing through her heart and left lung. For some reason, when Omi had brought up the report and said how old she was, Aya had gone almost green, and then fled upstairs to his room.

 

Heh. Who'd have guessed, even the fearless sword-wielding wall of silence had feelings, at least on occasion.

 

As Yohji poured yet another shot - those girls deserved another round, by the gods! - there was a knock at his door.

 

“'S open,” Yohji called, tossing back the shot and reaching for his cigarettes.

 

He wasn't expecting Aya, but he wasn't surprised either, which he thought was probably the scotch. Aya was dressed in clinging blue silk pajama bottoms and a black tank top, and his eyes looked fierce and wild. Yohji reminded himself, as he always had to when Aya came into a room, that Yohji Kudou was not gay, and Aya was asexual.

 

He decided to forgo the cigarettes for the time being, since Aya didn't seem to care for the smoke. “Hey, pull up a glass, man,” Yohji called cheerfully, not thinking for a minute that Aya would actually stoop to drinking with him.

 

He was astonished when Aya grabbed a clean tumbler off the dresser and sat on the windowsill next to Yohji's bed, holding out his glass. Silently, Yohji poured a double.

 

Aya tossed it back like water, and held the glass out again. Fascinated, Yohji refilled it.

 

This one, Aya drank more slowly. He sipped at it, and his hand shook the tiniest bit. One amber drop spilled over the edge. Aya caught it with his tongue, licking delicately up the side of the glass. The gesture seemed artless, until Aya gave him a smoldering glance from under half-mast eyelids, while he licked the rim of the glass. “This is good,” that deep voice rumbled.

 

Yohji felt his mouth fall open, and closed it with an effort. He decided that maybe he could accept Yohji Kudou being bi, since after all he had slept with men on occasion, and his cock was currently trying to rip its way out of his pants to get to Aya.

 

Aya dipped two fingers into the liquid left in his glass, tilted his head back and closed his eyes. He let Scotch drip onto his lips, into his slightly opened mouth, down one of his cheeks.

 

Yohji put down the bottle of Scotch and his glass.

 

Aya sucked his wet fingers into his mouth, sliding them in and out and humming in apparent pleasure, and Yohji took his glass from him, setting it on the sill. Aya's eyes snapped open, and he pulled his fingers from his mouth with a sucking `pop.'

 

Yohji considered playing teasing seduction games with Aya, but decided there wasn't enough blood in his brain for him to carry it off. He took Aya's head in his hands and licked the wet trail from Aya's cheek to his lips. He paused then, just for an instant, thinking that maybe he was in actuality really hammered and reading Aya wrong. He gave a mental shrug and decided it was worth risking death to kiss those beautiful, glistening lips.

 

He slanted his mouth over Aya's and kissed him hard - harder than he meant to, but Aya didn't seem to mind. In fact, Aya grabbed him by the neck and opened his mouth wide, taking Yohji's tongue deep inside and sucking on it.

 

Yohji tasted liquor other than his smoky, peaty Scotch on Aya's tongue, and realized Aya must have been doing a bit of drinking on his own before gracing Yohji with his presence. For just an instant he felt slightly sad that this was happening now, when they were drunk and miserable from a mission, but quickly forgot all sadness when Aya sucked on his tongue again.

 

Yohji had never felt like he was going to come from a kiss before. Aya had beauty and skills.

 

One of Aya's hands was slowly teasing its way up Yohji's inner thigh, and then Aya's fingers danced lightly over Yohji's erection, which the drawstring pants he was wearing were already having difficulty containing.

 

Yohji felt something inside him give way, and he hauled Aya off of the windowsill and onto the bed with him. Aya straddled him and ground their erections together almost hard enough to hurt. Yohji moaned loudly, and cursed himself for not investing in a cock-ring. Oh, well; his downtime was only about five minutes usually…

 

Aya was tearing off his tank top. Yohji stared. Aya dropped the shirt on the floor and then paused as he noticed Yohji's scrutiny, looking first uncertain and then slightly hostile.

 

“What, Kudou?” he snapped.

 

“Aya…” Yohji tried to breathe, but seemed to have forgotten how. He'd never seen the swordsman bare-chested. Seeing Aya above him, chest and abs lightly scarred milk-pale perfection, sugarplum nipples tight little peaks, ruby hair tousled, lips dark and swollen from his kisses, impossibly beautiful face flushed with alcohol and arousal, eyes bright and crystal, the colors in the purple irises layering deep enough to drown in…seeing Aya like this was almost too much for him to take, but he wouldn't have closed his eyes even if looking at Aya could've struck him blind.

 

Aya was looking annoyed. Yohji didn't want him to be annoyed. He grabbed Aya's forearms. “Aya, you're the most amazing-looking man I've ever seen,” he hissed. “So beautiful!” He sat up, creating a tantalizing jolt of friction between their groins, and slid his arms around that sculpted white marble torso. Aya's face lost its wrinkles of irritation; he closed his eyes and hummed with pleasure. Yohji pressed his chest to Aya's, and dropped staccato kisses along his jawline. “I want you so much, Ayan,” he mumbled into Aya's little shell-pink ear, clutching him close.

 

Aya's hands slid up his arms to his neck, and his strong, callused fingers began rubbing Yohji's scalp. Yohji sighed with delight, and inhaled Aya's scent. God, just the spicy-sweet scent of him was maddening. “Let me take you, Aya, please let me inside you…”

 

One hand slid deep into Yohji's hair and made a fist. Yohji let Aya pull his head back so he could look him in the eyes. The expression on Aya's face was intense.

 

“Yohji, if we're going to do this, I need you to let me take you,” Aya said. “I need to know that these hands can deal out something other than death.” Said hands slipped from Yohji's hair to cup his face. “I need to know this body isn't just a killing machine. Because…” To Yohji's horror, Aya's breath hitched in his chest, and his eyes became even shinier. “Because if I am just a murderer, then I can't…when Aya wakes up, I can't...”

 

It didn't even register in his mind that Aya was apparently talking about himself in the third-person, as well as making no sense. Faced with the threat of cold, stoic, remorseless Aya about to start bawling in his arms instead of having sex with him, Yohji didn't even think twice. It didn't even cross his mind to protest that he'd never been bottom before. He pulled the pale beauty hard against him, kissing him with merciless ferocity. “Then take me. Do it now.”

 

Aya shoved him back down, kissing him so fervently their teeth clashed. Aya's hands flew hard and fast over Yohji's body, clutching, caressing, scratching. Yohji felt trails of lava on his skin in their wake. He felt Aya sucking on his earlobe, leaving biting kisses on his neck, and thought that Aya was a beast, consuming him. He'd never felt anything like this before. The bedroom was his domain; he was always in control, setting the pace, working his magic. But now, with Aya, it was all he could do just to hang on and wish the ride would never end.

 

Aya's mouth latched on to Yohji's nipple and did something - it was too fast for him to identify exactly what - that made him shriek, arc off the bed and dig his fingernails into Aya's shoulders. Aya paused briefly to smirk at him. “You like that?” he purred, voice husky with lust. He lowered his head and did it again.

 

“AYA!!!” Yohji cried. “God, stop that before I come in my pants, would you?”

 

“Oh, you're still wearing those, aren't you,” Aya mused, sitting back on his heels between Yohji's legs. He reached out and tore the sweatpants savagely from crotch to waistband. Yohji felt sweat break out on his forehead. Beast, beautiful beast…

 

Aya grinned at Yohji, who'd thought he couldn't be any more shocked tonight. Aya grins? Aya fucks? Do I only need alcohol to get him to do this again? thought Yohji.

 

Aya's right hand circled the base of Yohji's rigid cock, squeezing tight. With his left he caressed Yohji's balls, teasing his perineum with his index finger. “Don't worry,” he murmured, lowering his head. “You won't come unless I want you to.” He met Yohji's eyes for an instant, and then swallowed his cock all the way to the base.

 

Yohji couldn't breathe, move, or make a sound for several seconds. When Aya's throat started working around the head of his cock, he thought he was going to pass out. Finally he started gasping for air, crying out with each exhalation. Aya's mouth slid up and down his cock, fast, slow, and fast again. The hand circling the base of his cock held fast, preventing him from finishing in Aya's mouth, the thought of which was beginning to torment Yohji. It seemed he'd never wanted anything more than to come in that amazing mouth, and on that exquisite face. He tried to tell Aya this, but nothing would come out of him mouth except Aya's name, over and over again.

 

Aya's other hand began teasing the tight entrance to his body, and he started shaking. Aya lifted his head from Yohji's swollen, pulsing cock - Yohji thought he would start crying from the loss of that warm, dangerous orifice - and asked, “Do you want to come in my mouth, Yohji?”

 

“Ayyaaaa,” Yohji groaned, and nodded. “Your face…please…please, Aya!”

 

Without a word, Aya sucked him down his throat again, and Yohji fisted his hands hard in Aya's silky hair. The hand around the base of his cock released him, and he lifted Aya's head a little. Aya let him, seemed willing to let him take over this part. Holding Aya steady, he started fucking that incredible mouth. He was dimly pleased that he wasn't coming instantly, but mostly he wasn't aware of anything except how good this was, how rare and fine it was to be sliding in and out of the throat, the mouth, the face of Abyssinian.

 

His body had completely taken over, pounding hard down that throat, and he felt himself cross the point of no return. Aya seemed aware of it as well, for he chose that moment to roughly shove a finger up his ass. He screamed and started coming endlessly, pouring himself down Aya's throat. Aya pushed his head off of Yohji's pulsing animal cock, and guided it with his hand to stripe his face with the last of the expulsion. Yohji felt this but didn't see it; there were red and black stars dancing in front of his eyes and it took them a while to disappear. His body trembled with the aftermath.

 

Before his breathing had gotten back to normal, he felt Aya's finger sliding gently out of him, and Aya crawling back over him. Yohji focused on Aya's face, and even though he'd just had the most mind-blowing orgasm he could remember, he felt his cock twitch at the sight of his seed splashed across Aya's lips and cheeks. “Jeez, could you be any more arousing, Ayan?” he groaned, pulling Aya's head down. He started licking Aya's cheek clean. “You're so fucking hot,” he continued, in between swipes of his tongue. “It really knocks me on my ass sometimes.” He licked the last of his come from Aya's lips. “Even so, I never dreamed you'd be this good in bed. I always imagined I'd have to teach you everything. Not that I would have minded.”

 

Aya looked astonished. “You…you've thought about doing this with me?”

 

Yohji chuckled and shook his head. “Of course I have! Ken and Omi - shit, Manx and Persia have probably thought about doing this with you.” Aya raised an eyebrow, and Yohji laughed and caressed Aya's face with his hands. “You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen, don't you know that?”

 

Aya's expression was unreadable. “I should go now,” he said, breaking eye contact and beginning to crawl off of Yohji. “I've done what I needed to do.”

 

Yohji wasn't about to let Aya leave. He reached down and grabbed Aya's cock, which was still steel-hard and hot through the silk of his pajamas. “No you haven't,” he protested. “You haven't fucked me yet.”

 

“It's not necessary,” Aya gasped, his hands fisting in the covers as Yohji slowly stroked him with the silk.

 

“Oh, yes it is,” Yohji contradicted, leaning up and breathing softly into Aya's ear, making him shiver. “It is very necessary.”

 

The wet spot on Aya's pajamas was getting bigger. He nibbled on Aya's earlobe and Aya mewled like a kitten, making Yohji smile.

 

Yohji reached out and knocked once on the door of his nightstand cabinet. “Lube's in there, Ayan,” he breathed, suckling gently on the sensitive skin just below Aya's ear. The hand that wasn't teasing Aya's cock slid over Aya's ribs to play with one of his nipples.

 

Aya was panting now, eyes squeezed tightly shut. When Yohji pinched the nipple he was fondling, Aya growled and fell on him, kissing him fiercely. Yohji opened his mouth and let Aya plunder it, one hand clenched on Aya's shoulderblade. The other hand he slipped under the waistband of Aya's pajama pants to - at long last, it seemed - touch Aya's bare throbbing cock. Aya moaned deeply into his mouth.

 

Aya's cock was so hot and alive, like a demon sword just off the forge. It was sizeable, and through the pleasure of kissing and touching Aya Yohji felt a slight quaking of trepidation. He pushed it firmly away. It would hurt - of course it would - but Aya would make it good. He'd obviously done this before, and was magnificent in bed, so Yohji wouldn't spoil this with apprehension. He rubbed his thumb over the slit in Aya's cock head and pressed hard.

 

Aya gasped, and lurched off of Yohji toward the nightstand, throwing the door open and grabbing a tube from the shelf inside. “I'm warning you,” he said, his voice rough and deeper than usual, “I won't be as gentle as I should be. I'm too far gone. If you want to change your mind, do it now.”

 

Yohji gave Aya his most seductive smile, bent his legs and spread his feet wide apart on the covers. “Just do it, baby,” he whispered.

 

Aya groaned. He grabbed the ruins of Yohji's sweatpants and yanked them off of him, and shimmied out of his pajamas. Yohji propped himself up on his elbows and stared at Aya as he knelt between Yohji's legs, coating his fingers with lube. Aya nude had to be the most beautiful thing Yohji had ever seen. As he watched Aya's impressive cock, it jumped against his navel, leaving a glistening string of precome between the head and his bellybutton. Yohji felt his cock rapidly approaching diamond hardness.

 

That was, until Aya suddenly shoved two wet fingers up his ass.

 

Yohji yelped in surprise, and his head fell back as he hissed in pain. He felt Aya stroking his cock, distracting him. “Shh, Yohji, it's alright. It'll feel better in a minute, just hang on,” Aya murmured, kissing Yohji's chest and neck, sucking gently on his nipples.

 

Yohji felt Aya's fingers curling, and cried out loudly as they brushed across his prostate. “Aya!!” He felt sparks dancing up and down his body, flaring into little flames as Aya touched that spot again, harder. His fingers scissored in and out of Yohji, and his hand on Yohji's cock moved faster. Yohji felt Aya biting his collarbone, hard, but he could barely register it through the other sensations.

 

“I have to do it now,” Aya snarled suddenly, sliding his fingers out. He grabbed one of Yohji's legs and hauled it over his shoulder, crooking his elbow under the knee of the other leg. “I'm going to fuck you now, Yohji.”

 

Yohji thought he'd already come undone tonight, but that was before he heard Aya say those words, felt Aya's slick cock brushing his anus. “Please, Aya,” he managed, knowing he was begging but not caring. “Please, please, please…”

 

It hurt when Aya pushed the head of his cock inside, hurt a lot. Yohji had never felt that kind of pain before, and he bit his lip bloody to keep from crying out. He didn't want to make any noises of pain and risk Aya feeling guilty and pulling away, because even though it hurt, he didn't want Aya to stop.

 

Aya wasn't moving, except for a trembling hand that was softly stroking Yohji's cock. His whole body was shaking, and Yohji opened his eyes to look at him. Aya's head was tossed back, the elegant length of his neck fully exposed. Yohji stretched toward it and ran a hand from collarbone to chin. Aya lowered his head and rested it in Yohji's hand. “So… tight… Yohji,” he panted. “Done… this… before… right?”

 

Yohji shook his head. Aya's eyes went wide. “I shouldn't…be the first,” he gasped, and to Yohji's disbelieving horror, he started to pull out.

 

“Oh, no you don't,” Yohji growled, unhooking his leg from Aya's arm and bringing the other one down from his shoulder. He wrapped them around Aya, put his feet on Aya's ass and shoved hard. It wasn't as painful as he'd feared, so he didn't stop until Aya was completely buried inside him.

 

“Aaaah...aaaahhhh, God!” Aya yelled, so loudly that Yohji was sure if Ken and Omi hadn't heard them before, they certainly had now.

 

“Make it good, Ayan,” Yohji whispered, tenderly brushing Aya's hair back from his face.

 

Aya looked down at him, teeth clenched and bared in a snarl, and he grabbed Yohji's legs again and hauled both of them over his shoulders. “It's been so long…it's been so long!” he cried. Yohji fell back as Aya planted both hands on either side of his shoulders - luckily Yohji was flexible enough to be bent almost in half without being uncomfortable - and began thrusting.

 

The very first stroke hit Yohji's prostate dead-on, and he shrieked Aya's name. Any pain he was still feeling was instantly forgotten. The tiny flames he had felt when Aya had stroked it with his fingers were nothing compared to this white-hot explosion. Aya hit it again, and again, pulling almost all the way out and slamming back in hard enough that the headboard smacked rhythmically against the wall. Yohji heard himself chanting, “Yes! Yes! YES!” but it seemed involuntary. Aya shifted the angle of his thrusts constantly, just slightly, so the explosions of pleasure he felt were light, then bright, then intense, then paralyzing, and back down again, over and over until he felt like his brain would explode from the overload of bliss. He heard Aya grunting and moaning, the sexiest sounds he'd ever heard - that and the sound of Aya's hips slapping, jack-hammering against his ass.

 

Aya balanced on one hand so he could stroke Yohji's cock with the other. Yohji came helplessly at the first stroke, yelling Aya's name, invoking it like a prayer as he was encompassed by orgasm. He felt his body disintegrating into little stars, little fiery supernovas. He dimly heard Aya crying out his name, pulsing inside of him, biting on his calf. He wasn't sure if his body really existed anymore, but he tried reaching for Aya, and his hands closed on Aya's trembling biceps. He opened his eyes and reality slowly reasserted itself.

 

Aya was shaking, still gasping, and his head was lowered so that his hair obscured his face. Yohji lowered his legs from Aya's shoulders, and Aya pulled gently out of him. He whimpered with the loss of it. “Ayan,” he said softly, “that was the best sex I've ever had. I've never felt anything close to that in my life.” He tried to tilt Aya's head up so he could see Aya's face, but was resisted. He frowned. “Aya? Are you okay?”

 

Aya was silent, but Yohji felt something splashing on his abdomen that he was pretty sure wasn't sweat.

 

Yohji brushed back Aya's hair with his palms and forcibly tilted Aya's face up. It was raining with tears. “Ayan?!” Yohji cried, sitting up and hauling the redhead onto his lap. Aya buried his face in Yohji's chest and started sobbing noisily. “What - shhh, you're alright, Ayan! What's wrong?” Yohji thought, after he said that, that it was probably nothing specific. Aya kept so much inside - pain, laughter, desire, personality - that a release like this was bound to unlock a lot of emotions. He should be glad Aya was only crying instead of laughing like a hysterical loony, or screaming.

 

Yohji realized Aya was trying to say something, and he shifted so that Aya's head was lying on his shoulder. “What, Ayan?”

 

Aya's sobs were hitching and straining and miserable to listen to. “I killed her,” he barked out. He was nearly hyperventilating now. “She could - have - been Aya and I just KILLED HER!!!” he ended with a scream.

 

Yohji wrapped his arms tightly around Aya, realizing he must be talking about the mission, but…”Isn't…aren't you Aya?”

 

“No,” Aya gasped, “my little - sister, my - baby sister…her - sixteenth - birthday,” Aya wailed, and started sobbing in earnest.

 

“Her birthday? Aya, who are you? What is your name?” Yohji asked, but Aya would say no more, only continuing with his awful strangled sobbing, and Yohji held him tightly and rocked him.

 

Some time later, when Aya had quieted and Yohji was drifting into sleep, he heard Aya ask, “Will it ever end, Yohji? Will it ever stop?”

 

Yohji scooted down so he was eye-level with Aya. “It will stop, Ayan,” he assured him. “One way or another, it will stop. I promise you.” He didn't feel as adamant as he sounded, because he wasn't entirely sure he knew what Aya was talking about, but Aya looked relieved. He smiled at Yohji, his eyes luminous from crying.

 

“That's good,” he said, and laid his head down on Yohji's chest.

 

Yohji flicked off the lamp on his nightstand, and stared into the darkness as Aya lay against him, sleeping. He put his arms around his lover and sighed, feeling both light and heavy-hearted at the same time. That smile…that heartbreaking, tear-streaked smile…

 

Yohji knew difficult times were ahead, because he knew he was in love with Aya.

 

*******

 

Yohji sighed at his reflection in the tiny window. Indeed, loving Aya had been no easy trick. Of course the morning after, Yohji had woken up alone, and - predictably - Aya tried his hardest to pretend like that night had never happened. Yohji wasn't having any of that, but it still took him three weeks to get Aya back into his bed, and another two weeks to keep him there every night, which was unheard of for Yohji Kudou. And Aya would never let him show affection openly, even though it was clear Ken and Omi knew what was going on between them. Omi seemed fine with it, but Ken…

 

Ken had been Yohji's best friend, but he started to pull away after Yohji started sleeping with Aya. Yohji had thought it was because Ken might be a homophobe, and tried to talk to him about it, but Ken always insisted he was fine with Yohji, nothing was wrong. It had never even crossed his mind that Ken might have had feelings for Aya, or himself, for that matter. Of course, Yohji thought with a grimace, he knew better now.

 

The first instance of Aya breaking Yohji's heart was after he killed Takatori. He'd made it clear that he didn't want his past with Kritiker to endanger his sister, so he wanted no contact with any of them. He let Omi have an email address, but forbade him to give it to Ken or Yohji. Yohji, of course, confronted him before he left…that was the first time he'd told Aya he loved him. Aya had looked at him, unsurprised, with the saddest expression he'd ever seen. Aya had hugged him hard, touched his cheek and whispered “I'm sorry,” and left.

 

Yohji was devastated, but hid it fairly well. He started dating different girls again, but couldn't bring himself to sleep with any of them…until Kyoko.

 

Yohji brushed aside thoughts of his would-be murderess; he'd wasted far too much time thinking about Neu as it was.

 

He turned away from the window and looked at his slumbering boyfriend. Smiling, he gently ran his fingers across Schu's cheek and lips.

 

It was very soon after Weiss had split up that Schuldig had first made his interest in Yohji known - Schuldig-style, which was cornering him in an alley and taunting him, pressing every button he could, hitting every nerve until Yohji thought he would go mad. Naturally, he tried to kill the telepath, and naturally, he failed miserably. Schuldig's mocking laughter rang in his mind for what seemed like hours afterward. An ostentatious, if unhealthy, beginning to the best thing that would ever happen to him.

 

Schuldig kept “accidentally” running into him after that in places where there were a lot of people, so Yohji couldn't strangle the bastard. Yohji thought, at first, that Schu was just trying to screw with his mind for reasons only known to himself. It came as quite a shock when he realized, after several visits of this sort, that Schuldig was really trying to communicate with him, to talk to him like normal people would talk. So he would talk, when Schuldig was behaving fairly decently, and maintain stony silence when he wasn't. He sang commercial jingles in his head until Schuldig either started behaving or left. He felt like he was training a pet, or a child - something Schu had not appreciated at all when he picked it up from Yohji's mind. But he never tried to make Yohji do anything - that Yohji knew of - and he kept meeting him.

 

Then Kyoko had happened and Yohji went back to Weiss, and Schu was busy with Crawford's plans to free them from Esszet.

 

Yohji couldn't help being overjoyed to see Aya again, even though he knew Aya had only come back because of his sister. The first night he went to Aya's room for the first time ever, and Aya let him in and they fucked frantically, over and over. Yohji had never felt so insatiable. As the dawn sun crept through the heavy drapes, he made slow love to Aya, moving his hips languidly, kissing every part of Aya he could reach. As he came, he gasped “I love you” into Aya's ear, but Aya said nothing. Later that day, Aya told him that what was between them was just sex, just stress relief, nothing more, and if Yohji had a problem with that they wouldn't have sex again.

 

Of course Yohji had a problem with that. It hadn't stopped him from screwing Aya as often as humanly possible, though. At least, until he found out Aya had slept with Botan. That hurt him more than he'd thought possible. He'd thought maybe if he loved Aya enough, Aya would start to love him back, but it looked like that was never going to happen. And Aya was so upset over Botan's death! He'd known the man for what, three days? He acted like he cared about this stranger more than he'd ever cared for Yohji. But he kept himself from confronting Aya about it, because then he knew Aya would shut him out completely. Though it seemed like that was happening anyway.

 

When he was drinking in a bar one night, Schuldig slid onto the stool next to him. They talked, had a few drinks, and Schuldig propositioned him. Thinking bitterly of Aya, he accepted. It was easy to push aside the fact that Schuldig was a known enemy - Yohji didn't really care if Schuldig tried to kill him. He just wanted to forget everything for a while.

 

Schu asked him, as they took a taxi to a love hotel, if Yohji wanted him to take away some of his memories for a while. Yohji was very surprised that Schuldig would ask instead of just doing what he wanted to, and said so.

 

“I just want a good lay,” Schu had said. “It's no fun fucking someone who's as depressed as you are.”

 

“Then why'd you ask me?” Yohji snapped.

 

Schu shrugged. “You were there,” he responded easily.

 

Yohji had thought he couldn't feel lower, but Schuldig had managed that admirably. “Stop the car,” he called to the driver, who was pulling up to a stoplight anyway. He hopped out and started walking in a random direction, down a deserted and poorly lit street. He didn't care where he was going, just wanted to get away from everything familiar. It was a freezing cold night, but he barely felt it even though he didn't have a jacket on.

 

::Kudou, wait!:: he heard Schuldig call in his mind, and he put on speed.

 

::Fuck off and leave me alone, bastard.::

 

He barely heard Schuldig before the man was in front of him, taking him by the arms. “Kudou - “

 

Without even thinking about it, Yohji wrenched one of his arms out of Schuldig's grasp and threw a hard right hook to his jaw. Which connected, and sent him stumbling back a few steps. He didn't know which of them was more surprised that he'd gotten a hit on the telepath.

 

They stared at each other for several seconds. Yohji got his watch arm ready.

 

“Feel better?” Schu asked finally. “You've always wanted to do that, right?”

 

“I…yeah, I have,” Yohji agreed, wary.

 

Schuldig nodded. “Will you listen to me, now?”

 

Yohji couldn't see the telepath's face well enough to see his expression. “What's your game, Schwarz?”

 

Schuldig sighed. He sounded exasperated. “I guess that's the best I'm going to get. Ku - Yohji, the reason I asked you to sleep with me is because I…” he trailed off.

 

“I?” Yohji prompted.

 

“I'd still kill you in a second if the order came down,” Schuldig declared hastily, “but I - I like you, Yohji. I like you a lot.”

 

Yohji was floored. When he got over his astonishment, his first thought was that this was a cruel game even for Schuldig.

 

“It's not a game,” Schu insisted. “I do like you, and I'm sorry for what I said back in the taxi. You'd better appreciate that, because I never apologize to anyone, ever.”

 

“Then why'd you say it?” Yohji asked, crossing his arms, genuinely curious now.

 

“Look…I offered to take some of your memories away because I wanted to make you feel better. I never want to make people feel better. I don't know how to,” Schuldig admitted. “I just don't want to do anything to you that you wouldn't want me to.”

 

“Is that why you asked me to sleep with you? To make me feel better?”

 

Schuldig pulled his orange locks in frustration. “I already told you, idiot, it was because I like you. Do I seem like the sort of guy who gives out pity-fucks?”

 

Yohji had to agree that seemed unlikely, since Schuldig could probably have whoever he wanted, with or without telepathy.

 

Schu picked up on that thought, smiled, and moved close to him. “Will you come with me, Yohji?” he murmured.

 

Yohji moved closer to him, almost touching, since Schuldig was warm and he was starting to realize that he was cold as ice. Cold as Aya, his mind couldn't help adding, sending a spike of pain through his chest.

 

::Stop it,:: Schuldig sent, opening his dark wool overcoat and enfolding Yohji in it. ::You're not allowed to think about that prick anymore tonight.::

 

Yohji thought of berating him for calling Aya a prick, but opted instead for snuggling against him, trying to suck all the heat from his body. “I don't trust you,” he eventually declared. “You're okay sometimes, but I don't like you very much, either.”

 

Schuldig seemed to freeze for a second, but then Yohji felt him shrug. “I know,” was all he said.

 

After a few more minutes, Yohji had followed Schuldig to a hotel, and they'd had some very good sex. Not as good as he'd had with Aya, but a damn sight better than the majority of his bed partners.

 

He met Schuldig several more times. Sometimes they fucked, sometimes just drank or ate together and talked. The telepath was much friendlier than he'd ever been, more conversational and less manipulative, and Yohji found himself growing fond of him. He still didn't trust Schuldig, but he was a welcome escape from a home situation that was growing more and more stormy.

 

Aya's agitation over his sister's kidnapping was getting to everyone. Even Omi's smiles were becoming strained as they followed lead after lead and came up with nothing. Aya's temper flared at the slightest provocation, and since Ken was also hot tempered and on edge he and Aya had at least one screaming match a day. He and Yohji still had sex, but they also fought a lot, more quietly than he and Ken, but also more often. It was after a pretty bitter argument that they'd gotten the lead on Schreient, and gone on the excursion that ended with Yohji bringing Neu back to the Koneko.

 

Even now, he was pretty ashamed of himself for that. He'd told himself that he had brought her back with him to help her regain her memories, and that it had nothing at all to do with Aya. The truth, though, was that he'd done it mostly to piss Aya off, which was an insult to Asuka's memory and still made him feel ashamed. Especially since he had waited a couple of days before even asking her where Aya's sister was, provoking Aya into physical confrontations. Ken - and even Omi - had gotten pretty irate with him for that.

 

He had really believed that Neu was Asuka, and kept telling himself that once she remembered everything that they could be together again and all would be well. He wouldn't have to think about Aya, or Schuldig, or Weiss, and he could live as he always meant to. He'd be absolved, set free, and could finally let go of the darkness in his soul.

 

In retrospect, it was difficult to believe he could have deluded himself that much. When the blow of her betrayal hit him, he felt like he was falling into an abyss that he'd never climb out of. Surprisingly, it was Aya who saved him, holding him while he fell apart, doing his best to put him back together. This bolstered Yohji enough that when Aya's sister was taken by Schwarz right in front of his face, while he could do nothing to stop them, Yohji was able to do the same for him.

 

They spent every night together after that, talking sometimes, loving sometimes, but mostly just holding each other and being together. Yohji's love for Aya was quickened and increased, and he began to hope that they had a future together. Aya still refused to say he loved Yohji, but Yohji felt that it was only a matter of time. He thought of Schuldig sometimes, wondering what Schwarz wanted with Aya's sister. He might have realized that he missed the telepath, if he hadn't been so wrapped up in Aya.

 

When Yohji found out, after the defeat of the Elders of Esszet and the collapse of the tower, that Aya-chan had awoken, he knew that there was no future for him and Aya. Aya wouldn't let there be; he had to protect his precious sister. So he was a little bit prepared when Aya finally struck the final blow, gave him the final kiss, said the final words (“Please be happy, Yohji.”), and left for the last time.

 

Yohji walked around for days in an unhappy sort of dream-state. Schuldig reappeared in his life one day, and somehow he ended up spending almost every moment of the day with him, latching on like a drowning man as Schuldig held him, cajoling and teasing him back into wakefulness. With this wakefulness, though, came intense grief and the pain of loss. It wasn't so bad, though, because Yohji would tell Schu when it got to be too much for him, and Schu would suppress it until he could deal with it. Besides that, Yohji really enjoyed Schuldig's company. He was fun, easy to talk to, unpredictable, smart and insightful. Plus, the sex got better and better each time. Yohji tried not to let himself hope, but he couldn't help it. He really didn't have anything else but Schuldig - Ken was in psychiatric rehabilitation because of the brain damage he had incurred from fighting with Farfarello and then nearly drowning, and Omi was being groomed to take over Kritiker. There were very few missions because he was not very good at doing anything but reconnaissance by himself, and there was little call for solo recon missions. He tried to maintain a reasonable distance from Schuldig, just to keep his dignity, but it was embarrassingly easy for the telepath to undo that façade. There was no choice but to cleave to him.

 

Omi called Yohji one day and asked him to come to his office in Kritiker headquarters for a meeting. He wouldn't say what it was about over the phone.

 

Yohji walked in the doors, striding through the publishing company that occupied the first two floors and provided a decent front - better than flowers, anyway - and was surprised to see Nagi holding the elevator for him. The kid looked appetizing. Gone was the dowdy school uniform, exchanged for a militaristic black outfit with a lot of zippers and buckles, and huge black boots. An outfit Aya would have been proud of, he thought with a pained smile.

 

He was aware that Omi had been in communication with Crawford and Nagi, so he wasn't bothered by the telekinetic's presence. He just smiled and stepped into the elevator, and then silently followed the boy down the hall to Omi's office.

 

He was surprised, though, that in addition to Omi, Crawford and Schuldig were also present.

 

“Good, you're here,” Omi said, getting up and shaking Yohji's hand warmly. Despite the greeting, Omi seemed colder than usual, and Yohji felt uneasy.

 

“So, what's this about, chibi?” he asked, using the old nickname to give him a sense of the old familiarity he and Omi used to share.

 

Omi's expression grew hard. “In my office, you will address me as Persia or Mamoru, Kudou. Is that clear?”

 

Yohji was stung. He couldn't remember Omi ever calling him Kudou. And, Mamoru? Didn't he loathe his Takatori name? Yohji reached for his cigarettes before he realized that there was no way Omi would let him smoke in this office. He held his hands in front of him in a placating gesture. “Hey, sorry, Persia.” He tried to grin, but didn't manage very well.

 

Omi's face relaxed a bit. “Not a problem. Can I get you something to drink? Coffee, tea, soda? Please have a seat,” Omi said, indicating the last free chair. Yohji glanced at Nagi, who wasn't sitting down either, but Nagi just stared ahead like a sentinel.

 

“No, I'm good.” He sat down in the armchair, which happened to be next to Schuldig's. He tried to make eye contact, but the German's head was lowered so that his hair obscured his face. He wouldn't answer when Yohji tried to call him telepathically. Yohji's unease grew.

 

“Good.” Omi - Mamoru - took a seat behind his desk, and Nagi walked over to stand stoically behind his right shoulder. “I'll get right down to it. Crawford has made contact with certain factions of Esszet who have been willing to provide us with information about what is going on in Europe. Esszet is fractured from the death of the Elders, but not nearly as much as Crawford had hoped. The largest faction, which currently has control of Rosenkreuz - that's the facility where the psychics are trained, Yohji -- has made hunting and destroying Weiss and Schwarz a high priority. They are loosely allied with smaller factions who are angry over the death of the Elders and willing to bring about our destruction at any cost. So Crawford, in conjunction with other precognitives and telepaths, has worked out what must be done.

 

“He has helped me to arrange for Kritiker to ally with several factions who are willing to help because of the murder of the Elders and the destruction of so many of the higher-ups that we caused. So I will be remaining here. Ken is best off staying where he is; the institution is easily defensible and I have psychic guards patrolling that area. Nagi,” he said, looking up at the statue-like figure behind him, “has agreed to be my personal bodyguard.”

 

Yohji raised an eyebrow as Nagi reached forward and briefly squeezed Mamoru's shoulder, and Mamoru touched his hand.

 

“What about Aya?” Yohji asked, and Schuldig visibly flinched.

 

“I have several guards looking out for Aya and his sister, and I have informed Aya of the situation. By all precognitive accounts, he should be fine where he is.”

 

And where is that, Yohji almost asked, but restrained himself. Instead he asked, “And what about the nutjob, is he in with Ken?”

 

It was Crawford who answered him. “If you are speaking of Farfarello, he is in fact not in a psychiatric institution. He is now able to take medications that were formerly forbidden to him by Esszet, because Esszet wanted him insane and bloodthirsty. Farfarello has taken his life into his own hands, and has returned to Ireland.”

 

Yohji was surprised to note some pride showing through in Crawford's tone, like he was the nutcase's father or something.

 

Mamoru continued. “Crawford will be going to Europe to work with the factions that are trying to overthrow Rosenkreuz.”

 

“Wait, you want to destroy a school for psychics?” Yohji asked, confused. “What good will that do? Or is it just that you can't live unless you're trying to overthrow something?” He heard Schuldig snicker quietly beside him, and smiled. Crawford threw him an annoyed glance.

 

“Rosenkreuz isn't just a school for psychics, Kudou. It is the school. Everyone in the academy is groomed to be an Esszet recruit - “

 

“Ja, sure, you could say we were groomed. You could also say flaying a puppy with razorwire is grooming,” Schuldig interjected, the first thing Yohji had heard him say. He still wouldn't look up, and Yohji was starting to worry about him.

 

::Don't worry about me, I'm fine,:: he heard. ::Just worry about you.::

 

Crawford was glaring at Schuldig, who took no visible notice. Crawford sighed, and continued. “No one is given a choice of whether they want to work for Esszet or not. They do or they die. Admission is involuntary. There are other things I won't get into, dangerous experiments and the like, that take place there as well. Most of Esszet's research facilities are housed there. The school is the foundation of Esszet's power, Kudou. If it is not dismantled, then Esszet will bounce back very quickly. I have no intention of letting that happen.”

 

Yohji nodded slowly, trying to imagine a place like that being a school.

 

“Yohji,” Mamoru continued, “I'd like you to come and stay with me for the time being. What the precogs have seen about you is very shaky, and I'd like to have you where I can at least keep an eye on you.”

 

Yohji didn't relish the idea of moving in with Mamoru Takatori, and it made him very sad. “What are my other options?”

 

“I'd prefer we discuss those at a later time, after we get you settled in. Nagi will accompany you home to help you pack, and then - “

 

“Wait, wait,” Yohji said, waving his hands. “I don't even know if I want to do this, Omi - er, Persia!”

 

Mamoru sighed. “I know, Yohji, but we have determined that there are enemy agents in the area. I'm not asking you to move in permanently right away, just for the next day or two, at least. Then if you want to stay, or go, we can discuss it. Alright, Yohji-kun?”

 

Yohji threw him a sour look. “So I guess it's decided then, huh.”

 

There was silence, while Yohji waited for someone to tell him about Schuldig. When no one spoke, he asked, “Well? What have the all-powerful precogs decided about Schuldig's future?”

 

Again, Crawford answered, without even looking annoyed at Yohji's jibe. “The Esszet-loyal factions are searching very hard for Schuldig. There is a wave of agents on their way to Japan now that will find him if he stays here. They will either kill him or take him back to Rosenkreuz, this much we have Seen.”

 

“What? Why Schuldig?” Yohji nearly shouted, halfway out of his chair. His heart was beating frantically, and his mind chanted No, no, no, no, not again, not again…

 

“We have been unable to determine why Schuldig is so important to them. It is possibly because he would be valuable for genetic experiments, as he is the strongest telepath of his generation, but we're just not sure. The only option we have Seen for him is to run.”

 

“Run?” Yohji asked weakly, slumping in his chair. Despair filled him; Schuldig had to leave him and he was going to live with Mamoru Takatori. He ought to just kill himself first chance he got.

 

::Don't you dare start thinking like that, damn it!:: Schuldig's voice flared. He looked up to find Schu's blue eyes glaring daggers at him. He was so glad to finally see that face, that he just smiled. Schuldig's eyes softened, and he smiled back, sadly.

 

“Yes, he'll have to be on the lam, so to speak,” Crawford was saying. “Keeping a low profile, not wreaking havoc, not able to make contact with a lot of people or use his powers often. He won't be able to stop moving around for quite some time.” Crawford looked amused, and Yohji felt as though he could cheerfully break Crawford's glinty glasses while they were still on his face.

 

“I've offered to have an agent accompany him, but he has refused,” Mamoru said, frowning at Schuldig.

 

He's going to be all alone, Yohji realized. Alone on the run. For some reason, he pictured Schuldig on a desolate highway, covered in road dirt, sitting just off the shoulder, trying to heat a can of beans over a miserable little fire.

 

Schuldig stood up abruptly. “I'm going to have a word with Kudou in the hallway,” he announced, grabbing Yohji's arm and hauling him out of his chair. No one protested as they left the room.

 

Yohji felt numb again, and knew the numbness was a defense mechanism to keep crushing black depression at bay. He didn't want to say goodbye to Schuldig, which he was sure was the reason Schu had dragged him out here, so he didn't look at him, tried to keep his mind clear.

 

“Yohji, how about coming with me?” he heard the telepath say.

 

Yohji's head snapped up. “What?”

 

::Is there something wrong with your ears?:: Schu sent with a wry grin. ::Why don't you come with me?::

 

“On the run from Esszet, you mean?”

 

Schuldig rolled his eyes. “No, on a magic carpet ride, idiot. Where else am I going? I've got to leave late tonight, so you'd better decide fast.” He was trying to be his normal, confident self, but Yohji noticed that his hands were trembling, and his eyes were pleading. Schuldig abruptly dropped all pretense and grabbed Yohji around the shoulders, hugging him tightly. “I want you to come with me, Yohji,” he said, his voice trembling. “Please come with me.”

 

Yohji felt his despair and numbness melting away. He reached up and took Schuldig's head in his hands, moved it so he could see into those deep, sparkling blue eyes. As he caressed Schuldig's face with his fingers, he said, “You're all I have left, Schu. I go where you go.”

 

Schuldig smiled brilliantly, and Yohji kissed him, and they went back into Mamoru's office holding hands.