Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ The Ties That Bind ❯ Chapter 1
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: pkabyssinian 
Yohji has been depressed and reckless ever since Neu's death. His work performance is suffering and Aya has come up with a way to get Yohji back on track.
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Hentai | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 09.28.2005 | Pages: 5 | Words: 8.2K | Visits: 952 | Status: Completed
Yohji has been depressed and reckless ever since Neu's death. His work performance is suffering and Aya has come up with a way to get Yohji back on track.
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Hentai | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 09.28.2005 | Pages: 5 | Words: 8.2K | Visits: 952 | Status: Completed
Title: The Ties that Bind
Author: pkabyssinian
Rating: NC-17 for boys on boys and foul language.
Disclaimer: I don’t own these boys; I just like to taunt them. Please forgive me for the abuse I inflict upon them and don’t sue me. I’m not making any money from it, honest.
Author Notes: This is for Heta Noitio. I promised this a while back and just got the inspiration to write it.
Beta’d by the brilliant Chelle, who got this back to me much faster than I expected. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
~*~
Yohji leaned back against the low wall that surrounded the edge of the roof of the Koneko; his arms limp at his sides as his head banged backward so he could look at the sky. Night was coming. It would start to get chilly up here; perhaps next time he should wear a coat. A strangled laugh escaped him. Perhaps next time he shouldn’t kill the only woman that he was ever going to love. Oh, Kudou, over-dramatic much?
The sharp crack of the door to the roof banging open made Yohji glance over and see who was coming to invade his privacy. The unspoken rule of the house was that if one of them fled to the roof, they were to be left alone. Obviously that didn’t apply to Yohji. Or, more correctly, it didn’t apply to Yohji when he’d fucked up royally. Which, of course, he had. To be honest, when wasn’t he messing up? Perhaps this was to be the friendly ‘chat’ in which Yohji was told to shape up or plan for his own funeral. It was great to have a boss that cared.
The dying sun caught in Aya’s hair, causing it to glow scarlet as if it were lit from within. It was like the color of new blood. Neu blood. Heh. Wasn’t it hysterical how everything cycled around, in perfect symmetry, to the crimes that Yohji committed.
“Yohji.”
“Piss off,” Yohji answered. Clear, succinct, to the point and certain to annoy the red-head. Aya had no sense of humor. At least, none that Yohji could discern.
Much to Yohji’s surprise, Aya didn’t retort back or leave in a huff. The other man stood several feet away, looking out over the city as night began to fall. As the sunlight faded and the wind began to pick up, Yohji envied Aya’s forethought to bring a coat. The thin silk shirt he was wearing wasn’t doing much to keep out the chill, never mind the fact that it was sleeveless.
“You killed her,” Aya finally said, just as the street lights were beginning to kick on, lighting his angular face from below.
“Thanks for that update. For a while there, I wasn’t sure if it was me,” Yohji shot back, dark venom in his voice.
“You are sitting up here blaming yourself,” Aya continued as if Yohji hadn’t said anything. Very deliberately, he turned his head away from the blond. As if he didn’t want to see the pain that might be marring Yohji’s features.
“Who should I be blaming then? Neu? Schrient? Someone else?” Yohji demanded, anger making the words deeper and louder than he intended. It was too open up here; anyone would be able to listen in.
“I made my report to Kritiker, I told them that I was pleased that you were able to put aside your close and personal attachment to the subject and terminate her when it became obvious that she was a threat. She was fooling us and knew too much about Weiss. You took the appropriate counter-measures to neutralize a potential hostile security breech. You did your job well,” Aya continued, again as if he were ignoring what Yohji had to say.
The rage that had built up in Yohji drained away and he slumped back against the low wall. He had done his job. At least according to Aya he had. He hadn’t been thinking about Weiss then, he wasn’t even thinking about how much Neu might know. His pride had been pricked, the fact that Neu was laughing at him, making light of how much he loved her. Had loved Asuka. Her slight weight on his chest as she had taunted him, degraded him. He had killed her because she didn’t love him back. Because, deep and powerful truth here, she might never have loved him.
With easy precision, Aya separated the gap between them and knelt down. All of his weight was on the balls of his feet as he tried to put himself at Yohji’s eye level. Even kneeling he was still a little taller since Yohji was slouching bonelessly.
“She may not have been who she looked like,” Aya murmured, low and careless. Yohji wasn’t entirely sure that he was even meant to hear it.
“Great, thanks. I feel so much better about it now,” Yohji hissed back. As if he were a stubborn child he turned his face away from Aya, he didn’t care if the other man thought he was pouting.
“However, you messed up tonight. You let the mark get away because it was female. Grief will only carry you so far, you need to shape up before Kritker makes you. I advise that you do so, or else,” Aya told Yohji, his hand sliding around to cup Yohji’s cheek and make the blonde look at him. Cold amethyst eyes bore into Yohji, demanding that Yohji let the ghosts of his past rest.
“Mmmm, you know how much I love threats. I respond to them so well. Tell Kritiker to shove it and while you’re at it, you can shove it too,” Yohji smiled back, his eyes locked on Aya. Thick sarcasm rolled off the insouciant words.
“I will only take so much from you. I know that you are hurting; I understand that. But it’s time for you to move forward,” Aya chastened lightly. His thumb began to move in a small circular pattern on Yohji’s cheek.
The touch, as much as anything else, confused Yohji, Aya wasn’t a tactile person; he did his level best to remain aloof from the rest of the team. That Aya wasn’t reacting with anger to Yohji’s words was another conundrum, the red head wasn’t known for his inexhaustible temper. Yohji’s gut lurched in an unfamiliar and uncomfortable way, there had to be a way to get this back on even ground again.
With a casual swipe that Aya should have easily evaded, Yohji swatted the other man’s hand away. A sneer twisted Yohji’s lips as he glared defiantly up at Aya and yet the other man remained passive.
“I’ll let go of my past when you can get over yours. Because it’s obviously a sign of good mental health to try to attack a helicopter with a sword. Or to go into a rage at the mention of a single name. Yeah, you’re high up on the list to be made King of Moving On. Don’t you fucking patronize me, Aya,” Yohji growled as he leaped to his feet. Hoping that his calculated rage was rankling Aya, Yohji didn’t bother to look at the other man as he stormed away.
Aya waited until the faint storm of curses was silent before heading back down into their home. Omi was waiting for him, as expected, a distinctly unhappy look in his blue eyes. Aya gave the boy a slight shrug, waiting to see how the youngest member of the team was going to approach him.
“Aya-kun… I thought you said that you were going to handle this?” Omi finally decided on, his voice had only a slight waver to it.
“I am. I have this prepared in stages,” Aya answered tonelessly. Let the boy fish for it.
“But, well, you do know that we’re on standby until all three of us report that Yohji is back up to mission parameters,” Omi continued, somewhat more directly.
“I’m aware of that; we can use the break for now. You and Ken keep training, lets stay sharp,” Aya commanded and Omi blushed slightly as if he were being reprimanded.
~*~
Two days later, a sullen and angry Yohji stormed out of the back entrance to the Koneko and made a beeline for his car. Fuck this, they were all pulled from active duty? Because of what? Guilt chased over Yohji’s features as he was forced to admit that it was his fault, they all knew it. Most of his anger was to camouflage the fact that he didn’t want the others to blame him, even if he deserved it.
In a movement so quick it caused him to stumble, Yohji was stopped short when he saw Aya leaning against Seven. The red head was wearing his normal long, black leather coat that hid everything except for his Italian leather boots. The pose was so different from the Aya that Yohji thought he knew that he didn’t have verbal insult ready to toss out at Aya.
“Going out?”
Yohji’s mouth opened then closed, no sound issuing forth. He had meant to say ‘what the fuck business is it of yours?’ but somehow the sound of Aya’s voice had left him mute. Aya sounded like thick velvet and smoke, his voice was seductive as was the slight smile that curled the edges of his mouth.
“Mind if I join you?” the soft, sensual sound continued.
“Aya, I’m going out. You don’t do out. I doubt you’d like where I’m going anyway,” Yohji told him, however it didn’t come out sounding as bitter and vitriolic as he had intended. Rather, it sounded tired and worn out.
Without saying a word, Aya opened his leather coat and showed Yohji what he was wearing. Low black pants clung to Aya; they looked soft as suede and twice as touchable. A navy shirt so dark it looked black complemented the slacks. The top few buttons were undone as were the last few, offering tantalizing glimpses of Aya’s pale skin. The clicking sound that Yohji made when he swallowed had to be audible, it had to be since Aya’s eyes narrowed and his smile spread slightly.
“I’ll buy you a drink. Or a few,” Aya told him with a slight jerk of his head. Unable to respond in any other way, Yohji unlocked Seven and motioned Aya to get into the car.
After driving for a short while, Yohji pulled the car into an open space and got out. He didn’t even look at Aya; the other man could follow if he wanted to. It was too strange going to a bar or club and having Aya tag along. What was the red head’s motive in this? Certainly it wasn’t for shits and giggles. Was it?
Yohji had decided on going to Velvet, his original destination. It was a smallish club, with just enough light to see where you were headed; and loud, thumping, pulsing music. A body could just sit and drink and let the music pound thoughts out their head, or they could roam around and find another body that was looking to forget life for a night. Aya slid in front of Yohji at the door and paid the cover for both of them.
As the music roared over them, Aya leaned in to Yohji and shouted into his ear, “What do you want to drink?”
“Happoshu.”
Aya merely grunted in reply before heading toward the bar. Yohji, with easy grace from countless nights spent in similar clubs, navigated to a free table that was mostly out of the way. Since he had a babysitter tonight, he assumed that all he would get to do is drink.
Within moments Aya returned, a full mug of happoshu for Yohji and what was either whisky or shochu for himself. Aya glared at the wall behind Yohji for a moment before removing his habitual expression and replacing it with a much more open one.
“Are drinks normally this expensive?” Aya asked although his words were lost in the blaring pulse of the music. Yohji, adept at reading lips, simply nodded. He took a long pull from his drink and proceeded to ignore Aya.
His plan was working, too, until Aya slid out of his seat and dragged it next to Yohji. The heavy leather coat was slung over the back of his chair and now Yohji could see faint silver stitchery at the cuffs and collar of the shirt. Who knew that Aya had a hidden fashion sense? The other man didn’t try to engage Yohji in conversation, as the blond had feared, but sat in silence just close enough to touch. In fact, there was very little space between them at all.
Yohji bought the next round, but Aya rallied and bought the one after that. They happily alternated this way, as one would finish the other would buy the next set. Halfway through his sixth happoshu Yohji realized that Aya’s drink was soda water. He glared at the red head for a moment then decided to be the one to give in.
“Why are you drinking water? Don’t want me to drink you under the table?” Yohji asked, his voice steady and his words still unslurred.
“I’m the designated driver,” Aya smiled. For a moment Yohji was unable to think of a response in the light of this new revelation. Aya could, and did, smile.
“Fuck no! No one drives Seven but me!” Yohji exploded.
Without answering Aya leaned over, his face inches away from Yohji’s own. Shock immobilized the blond as he felt the other man’s hand in his front right pocket. What. The. Hell. Was. Going. On?
With another smile, Aya dangled Yohji’s keys in front of his face. “If you’re going to be nasty we can just go home now. I’m sure we can find something more interesting to do there.”
The silky purr in Aya’s voice shot through Yohji like a live wire, connecting things that were never meant to be together in Yohji’s mind. The man could not know that his voice was like pure sex when he did that. Could he? Aya. Sex. No, no, no. Nor could Aya be coming on to him, not like this, not in a club. Maybe this was proof that Ken wasn’t crazy for subscribing to the UFO magazines.
“Home. Fine, whatever,” Yohji choked out before fleeing for the door, leaving his half finished happoshu on the table.
Aya stood, tossed the car keys in the air, and deftly caught them before following Yohji out of the club. There was a definite spring in Aya’s step, almost as if he were rather pleased with himself.
~*~
For the better part of a week, Yohji had managed to avoid Aya. He had switched his shifts with either Ken or Omi, racking up more debt to both of them than he was comfortable with. But the simple thought of Aya, no, of Aya being sexy convinced Yohji that it was worth it. No matter what Ken asked for in repayment. Even if it meant playing soccer with the kids.
However, now it was Sunday. Not just any weekend Sunday but The Sunday, the one day out of the month when all four of them would be in the shop together. They randomized the weekdays when they did this, but every third Sunday was a hallowed ritual for their fans. Feeling bleary and unrested Yohji methodically got ready for work, pulling on tight jeans with a tear just below his left ass cheek and a dark green top that left a nice swatch of his stomach bare. It was with something akin to joy that he perched his darkest sunglasses on his nose, no need for the sweet girls to see how bloodshot his eyes were.
Sleep was something of a luxury that had abandoned Yohji. Ever since Neu died. Ever since he had killed her. He would dream of it, her heat and weight on his chest as her laughter stung his ears. Her cold taunts, asking him if he was even a man, telling him how weak and pathetic he was. The worst part was always when he flipped her onto his back, his shining wire biting deep into her neck. She had struggled and flopped on his back, her breath rattling in her throat as she fought to free herself. At the time, he had though that it would be easier that way. Not seeing her face, not having to watch as her already dead eyes lost what little light they had. How wrong he had been. How wrong he still was.
He still had his memories of Asuka, her charming innocence and her love for him. Yet Neu had managed to sully those as well. If Neu could act like she remembered and loved him, couldn’t Asuka have been pretending as well. Perhaps she hadn’t left him in that alleyway for the reasons he thought, perhaps she had done it because she saw a chance to escape him.
“Yohji, ten minutes till we open,” Omi called up, interrupting Yohji’s musing. Ah, well, it would be for the best to try to forget for a time what he had done. Young women to flirt with, work to be avoided, perhaps he’d even be able to stay away from Aya.
With only a few seconds to spare, Yohji tromped down the stairs and entered the shop proper. He gave a vague wave to Omi, who rolled his eyes and opened the front door to the already burgeoning line of shoppers. Ken was already behind the register and Aya was nowhere to be seen. Strange how his luck was holding.
The girls in the morning were slightly restrained since most of them had their mothers with them. The charm, or more accurately the beauty, of the four Koneko boys was known far and wide in the city, young and old women both came to see them and purchase flowers for their homes and offices. Yohji realized after a few hours that Aya must be in the back working on their special orders. He would make an appearance later in the afternoon when the flock of women had thinned. Aya’s brusque manner always worked best with the later crowd, they were often more interested in touching the employees than shopping for flowers.
As the afternoon waned, Yohji began restocking. It was one of the easier jobs and kept him out of the way of the worst traffic in the shop. Since he looked busy, the girls were generally discouraged from bothering him. He had less interest in flirting these days. Even less in mindless sex. Perhaps Neu was right; maybe he wasn’t a man after all.
Yohji was rummaging under the stock table when he felt a yank on the back of his jeans. With an alacrity that almost earned him a concussion, Yohji stood and spun to glare at the offender. Aya, a smug expression on his face, took two steps forward effectively imprisoning Yohji between himself and the table. With a sly swivel of Aya’s hips, he was pressing Yohji into the table, the cool wood pushed insistently against Yohji’s lower back.
“Did you need something, Aya?” Yohji asked, doing his best to keep his voice level.
“Checking on you. Making sure that you aren’t shirking your work,” Aya replied, a thread of humor lacing his tone.
Out of the corner of his eye, Yohji noticed that the clientele of the shop had gone silent and that they were avidly watching the scene that Aya had created. As if to further enthrall the crowd, Aya pressed his hips tighter against Yohji and leaned over and brushed the hair away from Yohji’s ear.
“Are you through hiding from me?” Aya whispered, his breath shivering against Yohji’s earlobe. The velvet and smoke tone was back, making it hard for Yohji to breathe. Best not to think about hard right now, the blond warned himself.
“Do you think they’ll kiss? Here? In front of us?” one of the girls asked in an obvious stage whisper. The unrestrained glee in her voice galvanized Yohji into action; he shoved against Aya with hands and hips and made an escape.
The bright, happy sound Yohji heard as he was fleeing couldn’t be Aya laughing. He could doubt he heard it at all over Ken’s parting shot.
“Jesus, Yohji, don’t you have any fucking restraint?” Ken hollered, shards of anger lacing his tone.
“KEN-KUN!” came Omi’s horrified reply.
~*~
Panic and fear dogged Yohji up the stairs and into his room. What the hell was he, some blushing virgin who didn’t know how to handle advances? Fuck, no. So why the hell was he here, running away from Aya and the shop? Because it was a shock. Aya wasn’t the sort to flirt with anyone. Anyway, Yohji liked women. Didn’t he?
That was a question he had never actually put to himself. Yohji was certainly fond of the opposite sex; he took pleasure in them and they in him. He’d never had to think about men in such a way, and from his recent reactions to Aya he would have to guess that he wasn’t completely adverse to such an idea.
Yet, Aya, Aya. The red head wasn’t one to indulge in pleasures, those of the flesh or otherwise. He certainly wasn’t the type to use sex as a weapon. Yohji knew the type; he should, as he wasn’t above such tactics when the need suited him. For all of Aya’s hard headedness in managing the team, Yohji knew that Aya wasn’t the type to use desire to keep Weiss in line. Aya, for all his faults, was straightforward in his dealings with them. It was how he had earned his position in the first place, even if he was the newest addition to Weiss.
Tired beyond belief, Yohji threw himself onto his bed, sleep overwhelming him. With his last bit of consciousness, he prayed that he wouldn’t dream of Asuka.
It seemed that luck really was in his corner today. Yohji woke several hours later out of a dreamless sleep. Why had he woken up? Ah, that was it; there was a heavy pounding on his door. Not Aya, certainly not Ken, must be the chibi then. Yohji hauled his aching body off the mattress and opened his bedroom door a crack.
Sure enough, there was Omi, a look of concentration and nervousness on his features. The kid had a lacquered tray with a covered bowl and a small plate with tempura shrimp and vegetables on it. Must be udon. Yohji opened the door wide enough to receive the tray and was taken aback when Omi charged in past him. No wonder the kid looked nervous.
“Uhm, Yohji…” Omi began, obviously not entirely sure of himself.
“Just spit it out, I’m not going to chew your head off,” Yohji said, trying to sound at least calm if not welcoming.
“It’s just that, well, Aya said… On that night that you had lost your sense of reason since Neu died. There has to be a way to get it back,” Omi almost pleaded, his large blue eyes carefully searching Yohji’s face.
“I’m sure there is, it’ll just take me a little time,” Yohji reassured, doing his best to not show if this was a truth or lie. Omi nodded, taking the words at face value. It was what made lying to him so damn hard. Yohji found it hard to abuse that sort of trust, but was aware that he would use it in his favor if he could.
“Ken wasn’t really angry at you, he was just surprised about you and Aya,” Omi continued and Yohji envied the young blond his ability to skip forward once things were settled within his own mind.
“Omi, you do know that there is no ‘me and Aya’, right?” Yohji asked, doing his best to not sound angry or rude.
“But there could be, I don’t mind. Anyway, Ken just thought that you weren’t being serious,” Omi finished, not at all fazed by what Yohji had to say.
“Serious?”
“About… well, about Neu,” Omi rushed his words together until they were almost nonsensical.
“Again, I ask – serious?” Yohji probed, making his voice a little harder than what it had been.
“We both kind of thought that you might leave us because of her. That you’d rather have a life with her,” Omi mumbled, eyes downcast and rejection along every line of his body.
“Fuck. Omi. I loved Asuka, she was my first love. As much as I cared for her, she wasn’t there in Neu. I wanted to help save her, to return Asuka to herself; but Neu… Well, Neu didn’t want that. She wanted to be where she was, she loved Masafumi more than she ever cared for me,” Yohji answered, his voice thick with emotion. He scrubbed one hand over his eyes, unsure of how to continue. “I’m not leaving, at least not voluntarily. I’m working at trying to get over her, but it’s hard. Damn hard. I don’t know if I can do it in Kritiker’s time frame.”
“We have plenty of time, we just don’t want to lose you,” Omi told him earnestly. There was such hope in the young man’s face that Yohji felt a pang of guilt.
“You and I both know that isn’t true. But I’ll try harder, I will,” Yohji promised. He gently took the tray from Omi and placed it on his desk before gently steering Omi towards the door.
For a moment, the boy dug his heels in, startling Yohji. “Just remember, even though Ken was rude, we don’t mind. You should let yourself be happy.”
“Fine, Omi, I’ll remember. Now let me eat,” Yohji admonished, trying to appear long-suffering but only managing to sound indulgent. The young blond threw a happy grin over his shoulder as he allowed himself to be escorted from the bedroom.
Holy Christ, Yohji wondered silently, had Omi just given him both encouragement and permission to do… whatever… with Aya? With a bemused shake of his head he sat down to eat.
~*~
The soft hiss and click of the bedroom door closing pulled Yohji from his light slumber. He rarely slept heavily anymore. In the encapsulating darkness he opened his eyes and slowed his breathing. After a few heartbeats, something firm settled on the edge of his bed. Yohji waited, knowing that who or whatever it was would make its presence known soon.
“I know you’re awake,” Aya whispered, his voice heavy with laughter.
“Well at least one of us knows what’s going on. Why are you in here?” Yohji demanded, equally as quiet.
“I’m just following up, you never answered me earlier today,” Aya told him matter of factly. Remembering the scene that the red head had created previously in the shop made Yohji’s cheeks heat. When Yohji remained quiet, Aya adjusted his position so that he was leaning over the prone Yohji.
“I remember you over-exciting the fangirls,” Yohji replied as blandly as he could. His mind was swirling, Yohji needed to be able to think clearly. He had to try to remain in control of whatever game this was that Aya was playing. As if he had ever been in control where Aya was concerned. For all the innuendo that he had tossed at Aya in their time together, it was never in earnest, it was to try and get a rise out of the stoic swordsman.
“I was hoping to excite you,” Aya hissed, his voice thick with what Yohji would swear was longing.
“I thought you wanted me to stop avoiding you,” Yohji demurred; he knew how to use desire against someone else. If Aya really did want him, that he could handle, he could turn that to his advantage.
“That too,” Aya sighed, his breath sliding over Yohji’s cheek. Obviously, the red head wasn’t above upping the ante.
Nervousness was rapidly disappearing as Yohji slipped into his playboy persona. He was fairly certain that this would end if he showed the least amount of interest. Aya would be forced to back off if this were a simple ploy to shock Yohji out of his grief. Sliding his hand from beneath the covers, Yohji let it wander up Aya’s arm. Surprise coursed through him at the feel of smooth skin.
Aya leaned in the few centimeters needed and placed a chase kiss on the line of Yohji’s jaw. “Isn’t this better than avoidance?”
The wandering hand that Yohji had placed on Aya’s arm slid over the bare back and pressed infinitesimally on Aya’s spine. As a response Yohji hummed low in his throat, let Aya make what he would of that. Yohji could feel a smug grin curling his mouth.
Yohji had to admit that he was unprepared for Aya to shift slightly and kiss him delicately on the lips. There was nothing hesitant about it, just warmth and softness and pressure. Without meaning to, Yohji arched into the kiss; his back bowing as he lapped hungrily at Aya’s mouth. Someone groaned and Yohji wasn’t sure which one of them made the sound but it slithered along his skin and made him shiver.
Pulling back, Aya leaned his forehead against Yohji’s. His breath was ragged puffs against Yohji’s nose and cheeks; they remained silent yet connected. Curious as to why Aya wasn’t continuing with this obviously planned seduction. As Yohji’s breathing started to even he realized that Aya was waiting for him. Aya would take the first step, but Yohji had to be a willing participant. There would be no recriminations that Aya had taken advantage of him, Yohji could not pretend to be the damsel in distress over what might blossom between them.
Hungrily he surged upwards and caught Aya’s mouth with his own. It was obvious that this wasn’t new territory for Aya and Yohji did know how to kiss. Yohji slid his tongue over Aya’s lips, before crushing their mouths tightly together. Aya made a low sound of approval before nipping at Yohji’s lower lip and drawing it in the warm cavern of his mouth. Aya suckled lightly before releasing Yohji’s lip, his hand working to push the thin sheet away from Yohji’s body.
Using his free arm to gain leverage, Yohji rolled Aya onto the bed and pushed himself on top of the shorter man. For a moment, Aya’s thigh created the most glorious pressure and friction against Yohji’s already stiff cock, Yohji groaned in delight at the feeling. For a few moments more Yohji kissed and licked at Aya’s mouth, enjoying the taste of mint and tea that clung to the swordsman. If Yohji were honest, he was trying to work up the courage to warn Aya.
“Aya,” he breathed, fear and desire curdling in his stomach.
“Yes?” There was a hint of trepidation in the word that Yohji belatedly realized was most likely from the fear of rejection. He placed a quick kiss against Aya’s cheek before continuing.
“I think it’s pretty obvious that I want this… that I want you,” Yohji told him, bucking his hips so that his erection jabbed into Aya’s thigh.
“Yes?”
“I just think that… well, that you should know I’m kind of new to this,” Yohji finished lamely. It sounded stupid even to his own ears and Yohji mentally braced himself to be laughed at. It wasn’t that he was new to sex, just this form of it.
With infinite gentleness, Aya ran his hands over Yohji’s back in soft patterns meant to soothe. He kissed gently along Yohji’s jaw until he came to the curve of Yohji’s ear, and nipped lightly at it. Yohji groaned and rocked his hips again.
“I won’t hurt you, I promise. I’ll take care of you,” Aya murmured throatily.
“I’m not some helpless thing that needs you to take care of it,” Yohji loudly announced as he pushed away from Aya. Pique was evident in his tone and when Aya placed a hand on Yohji’s arm, the muscles were rigid with anger and tension.
Aya slid an arm around Yohji’s back as Aya draped himself over the other man. He didn’t resume the kisses from earlier, just leaned against Yohji and waited for his body heat to relax the blond man. Seconds bled into minutes and eventually Yohji lolled his head back to rest on Aya’s shoulder.
“I wasn’t trying to treat you as an object. I want you. You want me. You’re new to this; I want it to be as pleasurable for you as possible. I can do that, if you let me. Please, let me,” Aya told him, his voice like golden honey. It was the ‘please’ more than anything else that broke Yohji. Aya never, ever pleaded. That he would say such a thing to Yohji had to prove that there was a depth of feeling behind this seduction. His own lust he could keep in check, but knowing that Aya wanted him just as much…
“Yes, Aya, yes,” Yohji managed to say without stuttering, there was a reverence in his tone that he couldn’t disguise; Yohji wasn’t sure that he wanted to. It would be safer, but in this perhaps honest was the best policy.
With lightening speed Aya was devouring Yohji’s mouth, the red head’s passion threatened to overwhelm Yohji. It was glorious; it was perfect to be wanted like this. There was a sense of safety in it as well, one that Yohji didn’t want to probe at in case it was illusory.
It was with great care that Aya laid Yohji across the mattress, his hands gliding over Yohji’s ribcage and up to his shoulders. Aya placed his weight there as he leaned over and sucked gently on Yohji’s neck before giving him a playful bite. Oh God, it felt so good.
“If you need me stop, just tell me,” Aya whispered against the bite and refused to continue until he felt Yohji nod in assent.
From there Yohji was unsure of what was happening, Aya seemed to be everywhere at once kissing, licking, stroking. His body felt as if it were on fire, as if it were a wire held taut and tight between two strong hands. The subtle caresses and prods against his inner thighs, his cock was amazing. Never enough to do more than excite him, it left him yearning for more as Aya explored his body, mapped what gave Yohji pleasure. Never had Yohji had such an attentive lover. Normally it was his role to drown his partner in desire so they never thought to ask more from him.
“I want to be inside you,” Aya whispered against his sensitive skin, it almost felt as if the words had weight. With that said, Aya pressed delicately against Yohji’s ass with one hand as he sucked on Yohji’s thigh.
“Yes,” Yohji told him without thinking. He needed release, he needed something more than the lavish care Aya was raining on him.
Aya fumbled at the drawer in the nightstand next to the bed. It took Yohji’s desire fogged brain a moment to connect why he would be doing that. Without saying a word Yohji reached over and grabbed a small bottle and placed it against Aya’s cheek. In a moment he was assailed by the bitter scent of almonds from the scented oil and Yohji smiled.
Two things happened simultaneously, Yohji couldn’t decide which sensation to focus on. Aya engulfed Yohji’s erection in his mouth and sucked on the swollen head while one oil soaked finger slid with delicious ease into him. Almonds. For a split second, Yohji was terrified that the scent will forever cause him to become unimaginably hard, a kind of erotic Pavlov’s dog. Aya minutely adjusted him so that Yohji’s hips were more forward, giving the red head easier access to all of Yohji.
Soon two fingers were scissoring in and out of Yohji, who was almost incoherent at the pleasure. Aya smiled around the cock in his mouth, wishing that Yohji could see him. Wishing Yohji could watch as Aya slowly slid the thick shaft down his throat, inch by inch disappearing into Aya’s hot mouth. Aya’s fingers never stopped moving, thrusting, poking, relaxing the tight ring of muscle that guarded Yohji’s entrance.
Without warning Aya released Yohji’s cock from his mouth, he could feel the blond’s balls drawing up, a sure warning sign that he was close to coming. Aya didn’t want that to happen yet, he wanted to be buried deep in the blond before Yohji lost control and orgasmed. The mere thought made the breath catch in Aya’s throat.
Yohji moaned at the loss of sensation but was suddenly aware of the slick presence in his rear, how it moved and filled him, how there was no pain. Strange, he thought it would have to hurt. That it would have to be uncomfortable to be invaded this way, but it wasn’t. It just felt good.
Aya pulled his body upward and caught Yohji’s mouth in a frantic kiss. For a second Aya was unable to coordinate his body, his fingers stilled as he dueled with Yohji’s tongue. In short, rocking strokes Aya began moving again and was rewarded with a sigh from Yohji.
“Are you ready for more?” Aya grunted out, lust turning his sexy purr into something more gravelly, more primal.
“Yes, Aya, more,” Yohji managed, pumping his hips, enjoying having some measure of control over the fingers.
Yohji was almost disappointed when Aya left him; he strained his hearing in the darkness trying to fathom what was going to happen next. Aya’s breathing sharpened and Yohji heard the wet sound of Aya coating his cock in the scented oil, the bright mental image of Aya’s hand sliding up and down his own cock made Yohji whine in anticipation.
His hands still slick from the oil, Aya maneuvered Yohji onto the blond's hands and knees. For a moment, Yohji thought to protest but decided not to. Aya knew what he was doing. If he was choosing this way for their first time, there must be a reason. Yohji knew that the idea should be like a wave of cold water, but it wasn’t. He wanted this. He wasn’t going to pretend anything otherwise. Griping Yohji’s right hip Aya slowly guided himself into the other man. Slowly. Slowly. Slower than he wanted, slower than was good for his control. Slow, but necessary.
“Oh God, you’re perfect,” Aya breathed out, his voice ragged and almost a sob. Aya bent so that his head was resting between Yohji’s shoulder blades and he placed light kisses there. The heat, the tightness, it was almost overwhelming.
Not wanting to be left out, Yohji hitched his body backward, rocking on the fullness that was buried within him. When there was no pain, only a satisfying pleasure Yohji became bolder with his movements. Aya pulled his torso upright and with an iron grip Aya’s fingers bit into Yohji’s hips. Now there was pain, but it was transitory and from an unexpected area. It helped to build on the pleasure.
Aya eased out some and slid back in, unable to do anything but give in to his impulses. Whatever he had expected, whatever he had hoped for, this went beyond all of it. After making a few tentative thrusts, Aya regained enough mental control that he was aware that he had to change his angle slightly and did.
The roar that burst forth from Yohji was unexpected and gratifying. With skillful ease, Aya continued to brush his engorged cock against Yohji’s prostate. The blonde was chanting a nonsensical liturgy that Aya made no attempt to understand. All his concentration was focused on one simple thing, prolonging the bone deep pleasure that was consuming them both.
The end was looming near; Aya knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer. Yohji was getting bolder, thrusting back onto Aya, driving the red head deeper, making it harder to hold back. He should wait. He should.
Releasing Yohji’s hips, Aya thrust himself into the other man as far as he could and slumped over as his release shook him. It drew the very breath from him, spots of light danced before Aya’s eyes as he shuddered with completion. Remaining buried deep in Yohji, Aya rolled to the side so that they were both prone on the bed. Aya’s hand, rough with long suffering calluses, slid down to encircle Yohji’s erection. Without finesse, Aya pumped at the rigid shaft while he lazily kissed along Yohji’s neck. In a few moments Yohji’s entire body stiffened, then his hips began to buck wildly as warm semen coated Aya’s hand. Aya continued to stroke Yohji for several seconds after his orgasm to help continue the aftershocks of passion.
“Aya…” Yohji whispered when he felt he could trust his voice again.
“Hush, just sleep, it’s alright,” Aya told him, a different note in his sleepy voice.
“Not yet,” Yohji said as he rolled over and pulled Aya into his arms. Yohji placed a languid kiss on Aya’s mouth, it was slow and sweet, and neither man rushed it. There was a spark of ardor underneath, but both men were sleepy and sated. “It’s silly, I know, but I wanted to thank you. That was amazing.”
“Wait until next time,” Aya chuckled before snuggling against the crook of Yohji’s arm. Yohji squeezed Aya in a hug, then allowed them both to fall into slumber.
~*~
Omi was pleased. In the days that had followed whatever resolution between Aya and Yohji, the older blond man was beginning to return to normal. He was no longer brooding and moody, Yohji no longer focused on things that weren’t there as if he were still searching for Neu. For Asuka. Ken, he knew, was uncertain of how to handle the change in the older members of Weiss’ relationship; but Ken would find a way to accept it. Omi knew that things were working out for his strange impromptu family.
“Aya, could you come in here,” Omi called out as he saw a flash of red pass by the kitchen. Aya backtracked and entered the well-lit room, his hair slightly mussed and his cotton pajama bottoms wrinkled from sleep. They must be getting ready for bed.
“Yes?”
“I was just wondering how things were going. You know. With Yohji-kun,” Omi asked in a halting manner. It didn’t seem right to pry, but Omi’s was the only evaluation left.
“It all went according to plan,” Aya told him forthrightly. Omi wondered if he was imagining the faint smile that Aya seemed to be wearing.
Unknown to either, Yohji, silent as a cat, was waiting in the hallway. Hidden in the shadows he had come down looking for Aya but was now fascinated by the conversation, his heartbeat had sped up but he was able to control his breathing. What plan?
“Aya-kun,” Omi drawled out, his way of demanding more information. There, there was a smile.
“I told you that sex was the key to unlocking Yohji. He’ll be more focused on me now, but he should be able to either work through his past issues or at least ignore them reliably from now on,” Aya answered, strangely clinical about the matter.
“It’s not right to use him so,” Omi chastened slightly, matters of the heart were still sacred to him. Teenage ideas of love and angst, how soon they were shattered.
“I’m not using him. Not exactly. We’re both getting something out of this arrangement; it works well and will make us a stronger unit. This is a lesson I learned well when I was with Crashers, as long as I keep making Yohji happy he’ll be content to remain as we are. He’ll have a lower incident of mission failure; we’ll both have an outlet for our urges. We went over this before and you agreed to it then,” Aya chastened, using the bored tone that meant no discussion would be brooked.
“I know. I just wished that you loved him,” Omi said sadly. Yohji could imagine the boy’s eyes filling with unshed tears.
“Omi, don’t,” Aya cautioned. Yohji shook his head in disbelief. What had he expected, undying declarations from Aya? When was he going learn?
Both men in the kitchen caught the blond blur the moved swiftly past the doorway, followed by the heavy thump of the front door. The unmistakable sound of Seven’s engine went roaring away into the night.
With an open and guilty look, Omi turned towards Aya. The boy opened his arms in a shrug, trying to convey that he had no knowledge of Yohji’s proximity when he began the conversation. Aya nodded, not that he would have accused the chibi of such an underhanded ploy.
“It’s all right, Omi. He’ll be back. What we have is too important to him. When he comes home I’ll explain, it will be all right,” Aya comforted, his vision slightly unfocussed. Omi wondered, momentarily, if Aya were planning his explanation speech.
“Don’t say anything that you don’t mean,” the younger man cautioned, worry evident in his face and posture.
“I won’t. I’ll only tell him the truth. It will be all right, I know what he needs,” Aya continued to reassure. Omi nodded certain that Aya was correct.
Certainty aside, Omi would wait until Yohji returned to file his report with Kritker.
Author: pkabyssinian
Rating: NC-17 for boys on boys and foul language.
Disclaimer: I don’t own these boys; I just like to taunt them. Please forgive me for the abuse I inflict upon them and don’t sue me. I’m not making any money from it, honest.
Author Notes: This is for Heta Noitio. I promised this a while back and just got the inspiration to write it.
Beta’d by the brilliant Chelle, who got this back to me much faster than I expected. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
~*~
Yohji leaned back against the low wall that surrounded the edge of the roof of the Koneko; his arms limp at his sides as his head banged backward so he could look at the sky. Night was coming. It would start to get chilly up here; perhaps next time he should wear a coat. A strangled laugh escaped him. Perhaps next time he shouldn’t kill the only woman that he was ever going to love. Oh, Kudou, over-dramatic much?
The sharp crack of the door to the roof banging open made Yohji glance over and see who was coming to invade his privacy. The unspoken rule of the house was that if one of them fled to the roof, they were to be left alone. Obviously that didn’t apply to Yohji. Or, more correctly, it didn’t apply to Yohji when he’d fucked up royally. Which, of course, he had. To be honest, when wasn’t he messing up? Perhaps this was to be the friendly ‘chat’ in which Yohji was told to shape up or plan for his own funeral. It was great to have a boss that cared.
The dying sun caught in Aya’s hair, causing it to glow scarlet as if it were lit from within. It was like the color of new blood. Neu blood. Heh. Wasn’t it hysterical how everything cycled around, in perfect symmetry, to the crimes that Yohji committed.
“Yohji.”
“Piss off,” Yohji answered. Clear, succinct, to the point and certain to annoy the red-head. Aya had no sense of humor. At least, none that Yohji could discern.
Much to Yohji’s surprise, Aya didn’t retort back or leave in a huff. The other man stood several feet away, looking out over the city as night began to fall. As the sunlight faded and the wind began to pick up, Yohji envied Aya’s forethought to bring a coat. The thin silk shirt he was wearing wasn’t doing much to keep out the chill, never mind the fact that it was sleeveless.
“You killed her,” Aya finally said, just as the street lights were beginning to kick on, lighting his angular face from below.
“Thanks for that update. For a while there, I wasn’t sure if it was me,” Yohji shot back, dark venom in his voice.
“You are sitting up here blaming yourself,” Aya continued as if Yohji hadn’t said anything. Very deliberately, he turned his head away from the blond. As if he didn’t want to see the pain that might be marring Yohji’s features.
“Who should I be blaming then? Neu? Schrient? Someone else?” Yohji demanded, anger making the words deeper and louder than he intended. It was too open up here; anyone would be able to listen in.
“I made my report to Kritiker, I told them that I was pleased that you were able to put aside your close and personal attachment to the subject and terminate her when it became obvious that she was a threat. She was fooling us and knew too much about Weiss. You took the appropriate counter-measures to neutralize a potential hostile security breech. You did your job well,” Aya continued, again as if he were ignoring what Yohji had to say.
The rage that had built up in Yohji drained away and he slumped back against the low wall. He had done his job. At least according to Aya he had. He hadn’t been thinking about Weiss then, he wasn’t even thinking about how much Neu might know. His pride had been pricked, the fact that Neu was laughing at him, making light of how much he loved her. Had loved Asuka. Her slight weight on his chest as she had taunted him, degraded him. He had killed her because she didn’t love him back. Because, deep and powerful truth here, she might never have loved him.
With easy precision, Aya separated the gap between them and knelt down. All of his weight was on the balls of his feet as he tried to put himself at Yohji’s eye level. Even kneeling he was still a little taller since Yohji was slouching bonelessly.
“She may not have been who she looked like,” Aya murmured, low and careless. Yohji wasn’t entirely sure that he was even meant to hear it.
“Great, thanks. I feel so much better about it now,” Yohji hissed back. As if he were a stubborn child he turned his face away from Aya, he didn’t care if the other man thought he was pouting.
“However, you messed up tonight. You let the mark get away because it was female. Grief will only carry you so far, you need to shape up before Kritker makes you. I advise that you do so, or else,” Aya told Yohji, his hand sliding around to cup Yohji’s cheek and make the blonde look at him. Cold amethyst eyes bore into Yohji, demanding that Yohji let the ghosts of his past rest.
“Mmmm, you know how much I love threats. I respond to them so well. Tell Kritiker to shove it and while you’re at it, you can shove it too,” Yohji smiled back, his eyes locked on Aya. Thick sarcasm rolled off the insouciant words.
“I will only take so much from you. I know that you are hurting; I understand that. But it’s time for you to move forward,” Aya chastened lightly. His thumb began to move in a small circular pattern on Yohji’s cheek.
The touch, as much as anything else, confused Yohji, Aya wasn’t a tactile person; he did his level best to remain aloof from the rest of the team. That Aya wasn’t reacting with anger to Yohji’s words was another conundrum, the red head wasn’t known for his inexhaustible temper. Yohji’s gut lurched in an unfamiliar and uncomfortable way, there had to be a way to get this back on even ground again.
With a casual swipe that Aya should have easily evaded, Yohji swatted the other man’s hand away. A sneer twisted Yohji’s lips as he glared defiantly up at Aya and yet the other man remained passive.
“I’ll let go of my past when you can get over yours. Because it’s obviously a sign of good mental health to try to attack a helicopter with a sword. Or to go into a rage at the mention of a single name. Yeah, you’re high up on the list to be made King of Moving On. Don’t you fucking patronize me, Aya,” Yohji growled as he leaped to his feet. Hoping that his calculated rage was rankling Aya, Yohji didn’t bother to look at the other man as he stormed away.
Aya waited until the faint storm of curses was silent before heading back down into their home. Omi was waiting for him, as expected, a distinctly unhappy look in his blue eyes. Aya gave the boy a slight shrug, waiting to see how the youngest member of the team was going to approach him.
“Aya-kun… I thought you said that you were going to handle this?” Omi finally decided on, his voice had only a slight waver to it.
“I am. I have this prepared in stages,” Aya answered tonelessly. Let the boy fish for it.
“But, well, you do know that we’re on standby until all three of us report that Yohji is back up to mission parameters,” Omi continued, somewhat more directly.
“I’m aware of that; we can use the break for now. You and Ken keep training, lets stay sharp,” Aya commanded and Omi blushed slightly as if he were being reprimanded.
~*~
Two days later, a sullen and angry Yohji stormed out of the back entrance to the Koneko and made a beeline for his car. Fuck this, they were all pulled from active duty? Because of what? Guilt chased over Yohji’s features as he was forced to admit that it was his fault, they all knew it. Most of his anger was to camouflage the fact that he didn’t want the others to blame him, even if he deserved it.
In a movement so quick it caused him to stumble, Yohji was stopped short when he saw Aya leaning against Seven. The red head was wearing his normal long, black leather coat that hid everything except for his Italian leather boots. The pose was so different from the Aya that Yohji thought he knew that he didn’t have verbal insult ready to toss out at Aya.
“Going out?”
Yohji’s mouth opened then closed, no sound issuing forth. He had meant to say ‘what the fuck business is it of yours?’ but somehow the sound of Aya’s voice had left him mute. Aya sounded like thick velvet and smoke, his voice was seductive as was the slight smile that curled the edges of his mouth.
“Mind if I join you?” the soft, sensual sound continued.
“Aya, I’m going out. You don’t do out. I doubt you’d like where I’m going anyway,” Yohji told him, however it didn’t come out sounding as bitter and vitriolic as he had intended. Rather, it sounded tired and worn out.
Without saying a word, Aya opened his leather coat and showed Yohji what he was wearing. Low black pants clung to Aya; they looked soft as suede and twice as touchable. A navy shirt so dark it looked black complemented the slacks. The top few buttons were undone as were the last few, offering tantalizing glimpses of Aya’s pale skin. The clicking sound that Yohji made when he swallowed had to be audible, it had to be since Aya’s eyes narrowed and his smile spread slightly.
“I’ll buy you a drink. Or a few,” Aya told him with a slight jerk of his head. Unable to respond in any other way, Yohji unlocked Seven and motioned Aya to get into the car.
After driving for a short while, Yohji pulled the car into an open space and got out. He didn’t even look at Aya; the other man could follow if he wanted to. It was too strange going to a bar or club and having Aya tag along. What was the red head’s motive in this? Certainly it wasn’t for shits and giggles. Was it?
Yohji had decided on going to Velvet, his original destination. It was a smallish club, with just enough light to see where you were headed; and loud, thumping, pulsing music. A body could just sit and drink and let the music pound thoughts out their head, or they could roam around and find another body that was looking to forget life for a night. Aya slid in front of Yohji at the door and paid the cover for both of them.
As the music roared over them, Aya leaned in to Yohji and shouted into his ear, “What do you want to drink?”
“Happoshu.”
Aya merely grunted in reply before heading toward the bar. Yohji, with easy grace from countless nights spent in similar clubs, navigated to a free table that was mostly out of the way. Since he had a babysitter tonight, he assumed that all he would get to do is drink.
Within moments Aya returned, a full mug of happoshu for Yohji and what was either whisky or shochu for himself. Aya glared at the wall behind Yohji for a moment before removing his habitual expression and replacing it with a much more open one.
“Are drinks normally this expensive?” Aya asked although his words were lost in the blaring pulse of the music. Yohji, adept at reading lips, simply nodded. He took a long pull from his drink and proceeded to ignore Aya.
His plan was working, too, until Aya slid out of his seat and dragged it next to Yohji. The heavy leather coat was slung over the back of his chair and now Yohji could see faint silver stitchery at the cuffs and collar of the shirt. Who knew that Aya had a hidden fashion sense? The other man didn’t try to engage Yohji in conversation, as the blond had feared, but sat in silence just close enough to touch. In fact, there was very little space between them at all.
Yohji bought the next round, but Aya rallied and bought the one after that. They happily alternated this way, as one would finish the other would buy the next set. Halfway through his sixth happoshu Yohji realized that Aya’s drink was soda water. He glared at the red head for a moment then decided to be the one to give in.
“Why are you drinking water? Don’t want me to drink you under the table?” Yohji asked, his voice steady and his words still unslurred.
“I’m the designated driver,” Aya smiled. For a moment Yohji was unable to think of a response in the light of this new revelation. Aya could, and did, smile.
“Fuck no! No one drives Seven but me!” Yohji exploded.
Without answering Aya leaned over, his face inches away from Yohji’s own. Shock immobilized the blond as he felt the other man’s hand in his front right pocket. What. The. Hell. Was. Going. On?
With another smile, Aya dangled Yohji’s keys in front of his face. “If you’re going to be nasty we can just go home now. I’m sure we can find something more interesting to do there.”
The silky purr in Aya’s voice shot through Yohji like a live wire, connecting things that were never meant to be together in Yohji’s mind. The man could not know that his voice was like pure sex when he did that. Could he? Aya. Sex. No, no, no. Nor could Aya be coming on to him, not like this, not in a club. Maybe this was proof that Ken wasn’t crazy for subscribing to the UFO magazines.
“Home. Fine, whatever,” Yohji choked out before fleeing for the door, leaving his half finished happoshu on the table.
Aya stood, tossed the car keys in the air, and deftly caught them before following Yohji out of the club. There was a definite spring in Aya’s step, almost as if he were rather pleased with himself.
~*~
For the better part of a week, Yohji had managed to avoid Aya. He had switched his shifts with either Ken or Omi, racking up more debt to both of them than he was comfortable with. But the simple thought of Aya, no, of Aya being sexy convinced Yohji that it was worth it. No matter what Ken asked for in repayment. Even if it meant playing soccer with the kids.
However, now it was Sunday. Not just any weekend Sunday but The Sunday, the one day out of the month when all four of them would be in the shop together. They randomized the weekdays when they did this, but every third Sunday was a hallowed ritual for their fans. Feeling bleary and unrested Yohji methodically got ready for work, pulling on tight jeans with a tear just below his left ass cheek and a dark green top that left a nice swatch of his stomach bare. It was with something akin to joy that he perched his darkest sunglasses on his nose, no need for the sweet girls to see how bloodshot his eyes were.
Sleep was something of a luxury that had abandoned Yohji. Ever since Neu died. Ever since he had killed her. He would dream of it, her heat and weight on his chest as her laughter stung his ears. Her cold taunts, asking him if he was even a man, telling him how weak and pathetic he was. The worst part was always when he flipped her onto his back, his shining wire biting deep into her neck. She had struggled and flopped on his back, her breath rattling in her throat as she fought to free herself. At the time, he had though that it would be easier that way. Not seeing her face, not having to watch as her already dead eyes lost what little light they had. How wrong he had been. How wrong he still was.
He still had his memories of Asuka, her charming innocence and her love for him. Yet Neu had managed to sully those as well. If Neu could act like she remembered and loved him, couldn’t Asuka have been pretending as well. Perhaps she hadn’t left him in that alleyway for the reasons he thought, perhaps she had done it because she saw a chance to escape him.
“Yohji, ten minutes till we open,” Omi called up, interrupting Yohji’s musing. Ah, well, it would be for the best to try to forget for a time what he had done. Young women to flirt with, work to be avoided, perhaps he’d even be able to stay away from Aya.
With only a few seconds to spare, Yohji tromped down the stairs and entered the shop proper. He gave a vague wave to Omi, who rolled his eyes and opened the front door to the already burgeoning line of shoppers. Ken was already behind the register and Aya was nowhere to be seen. Strange how his luck was holding.
The girls in the morning were slightly restrained since most of them had their mothers with them. The charm, or more accurately the beauty, of the four Koneko boys was known far and wide in the city, young and old women both came to see them and purchase flowers for their homes and offices. Yohji realized after a few hours that Aya must be in the back working on their special orders. He would make an appearance later in the afternoon when the flock of women had thinned. Aya’s brusque manner always worked best with the later crowd, they were often more interested in touching the employees than shopping for flowers.
As the afternoon waned, Yohji began restocking. It was one of the easier jobs and kept him out of the way of the worst traffic in the shop. Since he looked busy, the girls were generally discouraged from bothering him. He had less interest in flirting these days. Even less in mindless sex. Perhaps Neu was right; maybe he wasn’t a man after all.
Yohji was rummaging under the stock table when he felt a yank on the back of his jeans. With an alacrity that almost earned him a concussion, Yohji stood and spun to glare at the offender. Aya, a smug expression on his face, took two steps forward effectively imprisoning Yohji between himself and the table. With a sly swivel of Aya’s hips, he was pressing Yohji into the table, the cool wood pushed insistently against Yohji’s lower back.
“Did you need something, Aya?” Yohji asked, doing his best to keep his voice level.
“Checking on you. Making sure that you aren’t shirking your work,” Aya replied, a thread of humor lacing his tone.
Out of the corner of his eye, Yohji noticed that the clientele of the shop had gone silent and that they were avidly watching the scene that Aya had created. As if to further enthrall the crowd, Aya pressed his hips tighter against Yohji and leaned over and brushed the hair away from Yohji’s ear.
“Are you through hiding from me?” Aya whispered, his breath shivering against Yohji’s earlobe. The velvet and smoke tone was back, making it hard for Yohji to breathe. Best not to think about hard right now, the blond warned himself.
“Do you think they’ll kiss? Here? In front of us?” one of the girls asked in an obvious stage whisper. The unrestrained glee in her voice galvanized Yohji into action; he shoved against Aya with hands and hips and made an escape.
The bright, happy sound Yohji heard as he was fleeing couldn’t be Aya laughing. He could doubt he heard it at all over Ken’s parting shot.
“Jesus, Yohji, don’t you have any fucking restraint?” Ken hollered, shards of anger lacing his tone.
“KEN-KUN!” came Omi’s horrified reply.
~*~
Panic and fear dogged Yohji up the stairs and into his room. What the hell was he, some blushing virgin who didn’t know how to handle advances? Fuck, no. So why the hell was he here, running away from Aya and the shop? Because it was a shock. Aya wasn’t the sort to flirt with anyone. Anyway, Yohji liked women. Didn’t he?
That was a question he had never actually put to himself. Yohji was certainly fond of the opposite sex; he took pleasure in them and they in him. He’d never had to think about men in such a way, and from his recent reactions to Aya he would have to guess that he wasn’t completely adverse to such an idea.
Yet, Aya, Aya. The red head wasn’t one to indulge in pleasures, those of the flesh or otherwise. He certainly wasn’t the type to use sex as a weapon. Yohji knew the type; he should, as he wasn’t above such tactics when the need suited him. For all of Aya’s hard headedness in managing the team, Yohji knew that Aya wasn’t the type to use desire to keep Weiss in line. Aya, for all his faults, was straightforward in his dealings with them. It was how he had earned his position in the first place, even if he was the newest addition to Weiss.
Tired beyond belief, Yohji threw himself onto his bed, sleep overwhelming him. With his last bit of consciousness, he prayed that he wouldn’t dream of Asuka.
It seemed that luck really was in his corner today. Yohji woke several hours later out of a dreamless sleep. Why had he woken up? Ah, that was it; there was a heavy pounding on his door. Not Aya, certainly not Ken, must be the chibi then. Yohji hauled his aching body off the mattress and opened his bedroom door a crack.
Sure enough, there was Omi, a look of concentration and nervousness on his features. The kid had a lacquered tray with a covered bowl and a small plate with tempura shrimp and vegetables on it. Must be udon. Yohji opened the door wide enough to receive the tray and was taken aback when Omi charged in past him. No wonder the kid looked nervous.
“Uhm, Yohji…” Omi began, obviously not entirely sure of himself.
“Just spit it out, I’m not going to chew your head off,” Yohji said, trying to sound at least calm if not welcoming.
“It’s just that, well, Aya said… On that night that you had lost your sense of reason since Neu died. There has to be a way to get it back,” Omi almost pleaded, his large blue eyes carefully searching Yohji’s face.
“I’m sure there is, it’ll just take me a little time,” Yohji reassured, doing his best to not show if this was a truth or lie. Omi nodded, taking the words at face value. It was what made lying to him so damn hard. Yohji found it hard to abuse that sort of trust, but was aware that he would use it in his favor if he could.
“Ken wasn’t really angry at you, he was just surprised about you and Aya,” Omi continued and Yohji envied the young blond his ability to skip forward once things were settled within his own mind.
“Omi, you do know that there is no ‘me and Aya’, right?” Yohji asked, doing his best to not sound angry or rude.
“But there could be, I don’t mind. Anyway, Ken just thought that you weren’t being serious,” Omi finished, not at all fazed by what Yohji had to say.
“Serious?”
“About… well, about Neu,” Omi rushed his words together until they were almost nonsensical.
“Again, I ask – serious?” Yohji probed, making his voice a little harder than what it had been.
“We both kind of thought that you might leave us because of her. That you’d rather have a life with her,” Omi mumbled, eyes downcast and rejection along every line of his body.
“Fuck. Omi. I loved Asuka, she was my first love. As much as I cared for her, she wasn’t there in Neu. I wanted to help save her, to return Asuka to herself; but Neu… Well, Neu didn’t want that. She wanted to be where she was, she loved Masafumi more than she ever cared for me,” Yohji answered, his voice thick with emotion. He scrubbed one hand over his eyes, unsure of how to continue. “I’m not leaving, at least not voluntarily. I’m working at trying to get over her, but it’s hard. Damn hard. I don’t know if I can do it in Kritiker’s time frame.”
“We have plenty of time, we just don’t want to lose you,” Omi told him earnestly. There was such hope in the young man’s face that Yohji felt a pang of guilt.
“You and I both know that isn’t true. But I’ll try harder, I will,” Yohji promised. He gently took the tray from Omi and placed it on his desk before gently steering Omi towards the door.
For a moment, the boy dug his heels in, startling Yohji. “Just remember, even though Ken was rude, we don’t mind. You should let yourself be happy.”
“Fine, Omi, I’ll remember. Now let me eat,” Yohji admonished, trying to appear long-suffering but only managing to sound indulgent. The young blond threw a happy grin over his shoulder as he allowed himself to be escorted from the bedroom.
Holy Christ, Yohji wondered silently, had Omi just given him both encouragement and permission to do… whatever… with Aya? With a bemused shake of his head he sat down to eat.
~*~
The soft hiss and click of the bedroom door closing pulled Yohji from his light slumber. He rarely slept heavily anymore. In the encapsulating darkness he opened his eyes and slowed his breathing. After a few heartbeats, something firm settled on the edge of his bed. Yohji waited, knowing that who or whatever it was would make its presence known soon.
“I know you’re awake,” Aya whispered, his voice heavy with laughter.
“Well at least one of us knows what’s going on. Why are you in here?” Yohji demanded, equally as quiet.
“I’m just following up, you never answered me earlier today,” Aya told him matter of factly. Remembering the scene that the red head had created previously in the shop made Yohji’s cheeks heat. When Yohji remained quiet, Aya adjusted his position so that he was leaning over the prone Yohji.
“I remember you over-exciting the fangirls,” Yohji replied as blandly as he could. His mind was swirling, Yohji needed to be able to think clearly. He had to try to remain in control of whatever game this was that Aya was playing. As if he had ever been in control where Aya was concerned. For all the innuendo that he had tossed at Aya in their time together, it was never in earnest, it was to try and get a rise out of the stoic swordsman.
“I was hoping to excite you,” Aya hissed, his voice thick with what Yohji would swear was longing.
“I thought you wanted me to stop avoiding you,” Yohji demurred; he knew how to use desire against someone else. If Aya really did want him, that he could handle, he could turn that to his advantage.
“That too,” Aya sighed, his breath sliding over Yohji’s cheek. Obviously, the red head wasn’t above upping the ante.
Nervousness was rapidly disappearing as Yohji slipped into his playboy persona. He was fairly certain that this would end if he showed the least amount of interest. Aya would be forced to back off if this were a simple ploy to shock Yohji out of his grief. Sliding his hand from beneath the covers, Yohji let it wander up Aya’s arm. Surprise coursed through him at the feel of smooth skin.
Aya leaned in the few centimeters needed and placed a chase kiss on the line of Yohji’s jaw. “Isn’t this better than avoidance?”
The wandering hand that Yohji had placed on Aya’s arm slid over the bare back and pressed infinitesimally on Aya’s spine. As a response Yohji hummed low in his throat, let Aya make what he would of that. Yohji could feel a smug grin curling his mouth.
Yohji had to admit that he was unprepared for Aya to shift slightly and kiss him delicately on the lips. There was nothing hesitant about it, just warmth and softness and pressure. Without meaning to, Yohji arched into the kiss; his back bowing as he lapped hungrily at Aya’s mouth. Someone groaned and Yohji wasn’t sure which one of them made the sound but it slithered along his skin and made him shiver.
Pulling back, Aya leaned his forehead against Yohji’s. His breath was ragged puffs against Yohji’s nose and cheeks; they remained silent yet connected. Curious as to why Aya wasn’t continuing with this obviously planned seduction. As Yohji’s breathing started to even he realized that Aya was waiting for him. Aya would take the first step, but Yohji had to be a willing participant. There would be no recriminations that Aya had taken advantage of him, Yohji could not pretend to be the damsel in distress over what might blossom between them.
Hungrily he surged upwards and caught Aya’s mouth with his own. It was obvious that this wasn’t new territory for Aya and Yohji did know how to kiss. Yohji slid his tongue over Aya’s lips, before crushing their mouths tightly together. Aya made a low sound of approval before nipping at Yohji’s lower lip and drawing it in the warm cavern of his mouth. Aya suckled lightly before releasing Yohji’s lip, his hand working to push the thin sheet away from Yohji’s body.
Using his free arm to gain leverage, Yohji rolled Aya onto the bed and pushed himself on top of the shorter man. For a moment, Aya’s thigh created the most glorious pressure and friction against Yohji’s already stiff cock, Yohji groaned in delight at the feeling. For a few moments more Yohji kissed and licked at Aya’s mouth, enjoying the taste of mint and tea that clung to the swordsman. If Yohji were honest, he was trying to work up the courage to warn Aya.
“Aya,” he breathed, fear and desire curdling in his stomach.
“Yes?” There was a hint of trepidation in the word that Yohji belatedly realized was most likely from the fear of rejection. He placed a quick kiss against Aya’s cheek before continuing.
“I think it’s pretty obvious that I want this… that I want you,” Yohji told him, bucking his hips so that his erection jabbed into Aya’s thigh.
“Yes?”
“I just think that… well, that you should know I’m kind of new to this,” Yohji finished lamely. It sounded stupid even to his own ears and Yohji mentally braced himself to be laughed at. It wasn’t that he was new to sex, just this form of it.
With infinite gentleness, Aya ran his hands over Yohji’s back in soft patterns meant to soothe. He kissed gently along Yohji’s jaw until he came to the curve of Yohji’s ear, and nipped lightly at it. Yohji groaned and rocked his hips again.
“I won’t hurt you, I promise. I’ll take care of you,” Aya murmured throatily.
“I’m not some helpless thing that needs you to take care of it,” Yohji loudly announced as he pushed away from Aya. Pique was evident in his tone and when Aya placed a hand on Yohji’s arm, the muscles were rigid with anger and tension.
Aya slid an arm around Yohji’s back as Aya draped himself over the other man. He didn’t resume the kisses from earlier, just leaned against Yohji and waited for his body heat to relax the blond man. Seconds bled into minutes and eventually Yohji lolled his head back to rest on Aya’s shoulder.
“I wasn’t trying to treat you as an object. I want you. You want me. You’re new to this; I want it to be as pleasurable for you as possible. I can do that, if you let me. Please, let me,” Aya told him, his voice like golden honey. It was the ‘please’ more than anything else that broke Yohji. Aya never, ever pleaded. That he would say such a thing to Yohji had to prove that there was a depth of feeling behind this seduction. His own lust he could keep in check, but knowing that Aya wanted him just as much…
“Yes, Aya, yes,” Yohji managed to say without stuttering, there was a reverence in his tone that he couldn’t disguise; Yohji wasn’t sure that he wanted to. It would be safer, but in this perhaps honest was the best policy.
With lightening speed Aya was devouring Yohji’s mouth, the red head’s passion threatened to overwhelm Yohji. It was glorious; it was perfect to be wanted like this. There was a sense of safety in it as well, one that Yohji didn’t want to probe at in case it was illusory.
It was with great care that Aya laid Yohji across the mattress, his hands gliding over Yohji’s ribcage and up to his shoulders. Aya placed his weight there as he leaned over and sucked gently on Yohji’s neck before giving him a playful bite. Oh God, it felt so good.
“If you need me stop, just tell me,” Aya whispered against the bite and refused to continue until he felt Yohji nod in assent.
From there Yohji was unsure of what was happening, Aya seemed to be everywhere at once kissing, licking, stroking. His body felt as if it were on fire, as if it were a wire held taut and tight between two strong hands. The subtle caresses and prods against his inner thighs, his cock was amazing. Never enough to do more than excite him, it left him yearning for more as Aya explored his body, mapped what gave Yohji pleasure. Never had Yohji had such an attentive lover. Normally it was his role to drown his partner in desire so they never thought to ask more from him.
“I want to be inside you,” Aya whispered against his sensitive skin, it almost felt as if the words had weight. With that said, Aya pressed delicately against Yohji’s ass with one hand as he sucked on Yohji’s thigh.
“Yes,” Yohji told him without thinking. He needed release, he needed something more than the lavish care Aya was raining on him.
Aya fumbled at the drawer in the nightstand next to the bed. It took Yohji’s desire fogged brain a moment to connect why he would be doing that. Without saying a word Yohji reached over and grabbed a small bottle and placed it against Aya’s cheek. In a moment he was assailed by the bitter scent of almonds from the scented oil and Yohji smiled.
Two things happened simultaneously, Yohji couldn’t decide which sensation to focus on. Aya engulfed Yohji’s erection in his mouth and sucked on the swollen head while one oil soaked finger slid with delicious ease into him. Almonds. For a split second, Yohji was terrified that the scent will forever cause him to become unimaginably hard, a kind of erotic Pavlov’s dog. Aya minutely adjusted him so that Yohji’s hips were more forward, giving the red head easier access to all of Yohji.
Soon two fingers were scissoring in and out of Yohji, who was almost incoherent at the pleasure. Aya smiled around the cock in his mouth, wishing that Yohji could see him. Wishing Yohji could watch as Aya slowly slid the thick shaft down his throat, inch by inch disappearing into Aya’s hot mouth. Aya’s fingers never stopped moving, thrusting, poking, relaxing the tight ring of muscle that guarded Yohji’s entrance.
Without warning Aya released Yohji’s cock from his mouth, he could feel the blond’s balls drawing up, a sure warning sign that he was close to coming. Aya didn’t want that to happen yet, he wanted to be buried deep in the blond before Yohji lost control and orgasmed. The mere thought made the breath catch in Aya’s throat.
Yohji moaned at the loss of sensation but was suddenly aware of the slick presence in his rear, how it moved and filled him, how there was no pain. Strange, he thought it would have to hurt. That it would have to be uncomfortable to be invaded this way, but it wasn’t. It just felt good.
Aya pulled his body upward and caught Yohji’s mouth in a frantic kiss. For a second Aya was unable to coordinate his body, his fingers stilled as he dueled with Yohji’s tongue. In short, rocking strokes Aya began moving again and was rewarded with a sigh from Yohji.
“Are you ready for more?” Aya grunted out, lust turning his sexy purr into something more gravelly, more primal.
“Yes, Aya, more,” Yohji managed, pumping his hips, enjoying having some measure of control over the fingers.
Yohji was almost disappointed when Aya left him; he strained his hearing in the darkness trying to fathom what was going to happen next. Aya’s breathing sharpened and Yohji heard the wet sound of Aya coating his cock in the scented oil, the bright mental image of Aya’s hand sliding up and down his own cock made Yohji whine in anticipation.
His hands still slick from the oil, Aya maneuvered Yohji onto the blond's hands and knees. For a moment, Yohji thought to protest but decided not to. Aya knew what he was doing. If he was choosing this way for their first time, there must be a reason. Yohji knew that the idea should be like a wave of cold water, but it wasn’t. He wanted this. He wasn’t going to pretend anything otherwise. Griping Yohji’s right hip Aya slowly guided himself into the other man. Slowly. Slowly. Slower than he wanted, slower than was good for his control. Slow, but necessary.
“Oh God, you’re perfect,” Aya breathed out, his voice ragged and almost a sob. Aya bent so that his head was resting between Yohji’s shoulder blades and he placed light kisses there. The heat, the tightness, it was almost overwhelming.
Not wanting to be left out, Yohji hitched his body backward, rocking on the fullness that was buried within him. When there was no pain, only a satisfying pleasure Yohji became bolder with his movements. Aya pulled his torso upright and with an iron grip Aya’s fingers bit into Yohji’s hips. Now there was pain, but it was transitory and from an unexpected area. It helped to build on the pleasure.
Aya eased out some and slid back in, unable to do anything but give in to his impulses. Whatever he had expected, whatever he had hoped for, this went beyond all of it. After making a few tentative thrusts, Aya regained enough mental control that he was aware that he had to change his angle slightly and did.
The roar that burst forth from Yohji was unexpected and gratifying. With skillful ease, Aya continued to brush his engorged cock against Yohji’s prostate. The blonde was chanting a nonsensical liturgy that Aya made no attempt to understand. All his concentration was focused on one simple thing, prolonging the bone deep pleasure that was consuming them both.
The end was looming near; Aya knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer. Yohji was getting bolder, thrusting back onto Aya, driving the red head deeper, making it harder to hold back. He should wait. He should.
Releasing Yohji’s hips, Aya thrust himself into the other man as far as he could and slumped over as his release shook him. It drew the very breath from him, spots of light danced before Aya’s eyes as he shuddered with completion. Remaining buried deep in Yohji, Aya rolled to the side so that they were both prone on the bed. Aya’s hand, rough with long suffering calluses, slid down to encircle Yohji’s erection. Without finesse, Aya pumped at the rigid shaft while he lazily kissed along Yohji’s neck. In a few moments Yohji’s entire body stiffened, then his hips began to buck wildly as warm semen coated Aya’s hand. Aya continued to stroke Yohji for several seconds after his orgasm to help continue the aftershocks of passion.
“Aya…” Yohji whispered when he felt he could trust his voice again.
“Hush, just sleep, it’s alright,” Aya told him, a different note in his sleepy voice.
“Not yet,” Yohji said as he rolled over and pulled Aya into his arms. Yohji placed a languid kiss on Aya’s mouth, it was slow and sweet, and neither man rushed it. There was a spark of ardor underneath, but both men were sleepy and sated. “It’s silly, I know, but I wanted to thank you. That was amazing.”
“Wait until next time,” Aya chuckled before snuggling against the crook of Yohji’s arm. Yohji squeezed Aya in a hug, then allowed them both to fall into slumber.
~*~
Omi was pleased. In the days that had followed whatever resolution between Aya and Yohji, the older blond man was beginning to return to normal. He was no longer brooding and moody, Yohji no longer focused on things that weren’t there as if he were still searching for Neu. For Asuka. Ken, he knew, was uncertain of how to handle the change in the older members of Weiss’ relationship; but Ken would find a way to accept it. Omi knew that things were working out for his strange impromptu family.
“Aya, could you come in here,” Omi called out as he saw a flash of red pass by the kitchen. Aya backtracked and entered the well-lit room, his hair slightly mussed and his cotton pajama bottoms wrinkled from sleep. They must be getting ready for bed.
“Yes?”
“I was just wondering how things were going. You know. With Yohji-kun,” Omi asked in a halting manner. It didn’t seem right to pry, but Omi’s was the only evaluation left.
“It all went according to plan,” Aya told him forthrightly. Omi wondered if he was imagining the faint smile that Aya seemed to be wearing.
Unknown to either, Yohji, silent as a cat, was waiting in the hallway. Hidden in the shadows he had come down looking for Aya but was now fascinated by the conversation, his heartbeat had sped up but he was able to control his breathing. What plan?
“Aya-kun,” Omi drawled out, his way of demanding more information. There, there was a smile.
“I told you that sex was the key to unlocking Yohji. He’ll be more focused on me now, but he should be able to either work through his past issues or at least ignore them reliably from now on,” Aya answered, strangely clinical about the matter.
“It’s not right to use him so,” Omi chastened slightly, matters of the heart were still sacred to him. Teenage ideas of love and angst, how soon they were shattered.
“I’m not using him. Not exactly. We’re both getting something out of this arrangement; it works well and will make us a stronger unit. This is a lesson I learned well when I was with Crashers, as long as I keep making Yohji happy he’ll be content to remain as we are. He’ll have a lower incident of mission failure; we’ll both have an outlet for our urges. We went over this before and you agreed to it then,” Aya chastened, using the bored tone that meant no discussion would be brooked.
“I know. I just wished that you loved him,” Omi said sadly. Yohji could imagine the boy’s eyes filling with unshed tears.
“Omi, don’t,” Aya cautioned. Yohji shook his head in disbelief. What had he expected, undying declarations from Aya? When was he going learn?
Both men in the kitchen caught the blond blur the moved swiftly past the doorway, followed by the heavy thump of the front door. The unmistakable sound of Seven’s engine went roaring away into the night.
With an open and guilty look, Omi turned towards Aya. The boy opened his arms in a shrug, trying to convey that he had no knowledge of Yohji’s proximity when he began the conversation. Aya nodded, not that he would have accused the chibi of such an underhanded ploy.
“It’s all right, Omi. He’ll be back. What we have is too important to him. When he comes home I’ll explain, it will be all right,” Aya comforted, his vision slightly unfocussed. Omi wondered, momentarily, if Aya were planning his explanation speech.
“Don’t say anything that you don’t mean,” the younger man cautioned, worry evident in his face and posture.
“I won’t. I’ll only tell him the truth. It will be all right, I know what he needs,” Aya continued to reassure. Omi nodded certain that Aya was correct.
Certainty aside, Omi would wait until Yohji returned to file his report with Kritker.