Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Torn Between Two Lovers ❯ A Melancholy Afternoon ( Chapter 1 )

After three long years away from anime fandom, I've recently returned.

 

This is the first installment of an all-new arc for the bishounen of “Weiss Kreuz” which is already five books long in rough draft form. How soon this one will finish posting or when the others will go up is uncertain, but every journey begins with a single step, right?

 

I sincerely hope that you will enjoy this new take on some very dear characters and that the fans of my older pieces like “Cold November Rain” and “Neutral Territory” won't mind that my muses and I have decided to start anew.

Enjoy the story!

~~~Enigma~~~

(who invites you to check his new biography here at MM.org as well as to visit his homepage at e-sama.livejournal.com for teasers, updates, and more)

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Title: Torn Between Two Lovers [chapter 1 of 4]

 

Book 1 of the Realizations Arc

 

Author: Enigma (also known as “E-sama the Llama”)

 

Series: Weiss Kreuz

 

Rating: NC-17

 

Pairing for Lemon: Yohji x Ken

 

Warnings: Yaoi, mild angst, coarse language, sexual triangle (Yohji/Ken/Aya), implied sex, masturbation, detailed lemon. AU-OOC.

 

Disclaimer: “Weiss Kreuz” is the property of Koyasu Takehito and Project Weiss. All original characters, including “Christie”, the unnamed drug dealer, etc. © Enigma, 2007. This unauthorized work of unpaid fanfiction is intended for entertainment only.

 

//internal thoughts//

 

 

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Working alone in the flower shop on an unpleasant summer afternoon, Ken frowned before grumbling, “I *really* hate overcast days.”

 

Pausing to lean against the open double doorframe of the Koneko no Sumu Ie---better known as simply “the Koneko”---he scanned the leaden skies above in search of the entirely absent shade of blue which might herald the arrival of customers. No such luck. Then again, the date was July second which was right in the middle of Tokyo's rainy season. Plus, it was a tedious Thursday in the middle of the lackluster year of 1998 and thinking of it as such just added to the teen's mild sense of melancholy.

 

Not that he wanted to actually *sell* any of the beloved potted plants that he worked so hard to maintain in peak condition; especially none of the cacti that he put so much love and attention into grooming into magnificent specimens.

 

Rather, he simply wanted the distraction and noise that the usual gaggles of giggling fangirls brought with them even as they came to swoon over their idols, the four sexy male florists whose dark secrets they never could've imagined. He seemed instead to be condemned to more of the dreaded peace and quiet that were giving him all too much time to consider certain unexpected encounters that had occurred recently between himself and his two eldest teammates. Encounters which had left him feeling rather torn about the entire situation.

 

Running a dirt smudged hand through pleasantly wavy brown hair, Ken sighed again even more deeply as the first few heavy drops of rain painted the sidewalk like a particular abstract artist might. His head cocked to one side as this random thought wended past his awareness.

 

With a snort, he muttered, “No, that's not right. Jackson Pollock's splats all dripped…” Glancing over his shoulder at the large display window whose panes began to be washed by the rain which slowly increased in intensity, he nodded to himself absently, “Yeah, that's more like it.”

 

Returning his unfocused gaze to the uncharacteristically quiet streets of their little Tokyo neighborhood, he silently returned to the inner debate that he'd been wrestling with since earlier in the day. Or at least, he would have except the image of a certain blond man kept distracting him.

 

//I know that I need to sort things out about those two guys, but why in hell did Yohji have to leave his damned bedroom door wide open this morning? Seeing him laying there, naked as usual with that damned sexy tattoo of his in full view did *not* make coming down here to work solo any easier!//

 

What had been Ken's undoing that morning was an intoxicating sight that he'd seen rather often thanks to the layout of the residential floors of the Koneko.

 

Since the fourth floor penthouse had been claimed by the Weiss field commander, Aya had a private and rather opulent bathroom to himself. One floor below, the other three shared a standard sized bath as best they could and tried not to begrudge the age old truth that rank has its privileges.

 

Volunteering for the least attractive bedroom since such things didn't matter to him, Ken was at one end of the third floor with Yohji's directly beside his. Without so much as engaging his big blue puppy-eyed gaze to get it, Omi had been given the coveted corner room at the other end of the hall. It was easily the best of the three since it had not only two windows instead of one but was also closest to the bathroom.

 

Each of these three “lesser” bedrooms included a private sink and a large walk-in closet, but they were nothing compared to Aya's posh abode which had not only three full windows but also a bath suite the others were never allowed to use… Well, almost never.

 

Despite the standoffish nature of the redhead, when the quartet decided to use the oversized rooftop patio on the backside of the building for a little grilling out or to watch fireworks during the local festivals, Aya would grudgingly allow them access to “his” bath. The suite featured a Jacuzzi more than large enough for two adults, a separate shower stall, dual sinks, a water closet complete with a Western-style toilet, and more.

 

The entire top floor had once been a single immense suite as per the design of the original architect/owner, a man with interesting hobbies which required the hidden, soundproofed basement to enjoy fully. Once Kritiker decided to station the Weiss assassins there, however, certain adjustments had been made. They'd added walls to cordon off an open-air gym as well as the bathroom, so Aya really didn't have much of a right to deny access to it.

 

Since the fourth floor patio was the only exterior portion of their home that they could use for recreation, there was a typical al fresco-style table, chairs, plus umbrella there along with a grill which Ken complained about not getting to use often since it was such a hassle. Hauling food and beverages up the two extra flights of stairs was a nuisance, yet what he actually found painful was how indifferent his friends often seemed when he suggested it in the first place.

 

Mosquitoes, summer heat, and unrelenting air pollution were greater deterrents to the occasional picnic than anything else, yet he still took the rejections personally as any good cook would.

 

This simple fact aside, Ken did enjoy using the equipment in the gym and outside on the far end of the patio away from the recreation area. It was disappointing that the others never seemed interested in working out, but Omi got enough exercise at school, Aya had enough going up and down all those stairs, and Yohji preferred to socialize at a gym/club two blocks away. Then again, the lanky elder blond had been known to magically appear just to enjoy the view whenever Ken was really working up a sweat, but that didn't count.

 

Recollections of the times that Yohji had sat and watched as Ken's body glistened in the sunshine pouring through the fourth floor gym's windows in combination with the memory of the way he'd looked that morning had an understandable affect.

 

With a sub-vocal groan, Ken attempted to refocus his thoughts on his work. With this in mind, he tugged his light blue apron carefully into place while turning his attention to the vacant interior of the flower shop. Ordinarily there might have been plants needing to be watered, but with the humidity now at a perfect one hundred percent, that was a waste of time. Or maybe something would need pruning, repotting, or even subdividing? He frowned as he realized that had all been done earlier.

 

The decorative wind chimes that hung from the eaves near the open door rattled without actually ringing as he stepped back into the middle of the shop.

 

Thoughtful brown eyes wandered past the numerous refrigerated display cases filled with bouquets, sprays, corsages, and expensive imported cut flowers. The assorted racks and risers of potted plants failed to catch his attention and the same went for the cash register plus all the other little things that were standard for a business like theirs.

 

The eye-catching displays in the large, wrap-around window at front of the store which extended out over the sidewalk were in reasonable condition. Absentmindedly, he made sure the small step stool that made maintaining the display case easier was properly stored nearby and then he wandered onwards seeking something useful to do.

 

Yohji's old-fashioned drip coffeemaker with its little Bunsen burner style heat source was in the way as usual, so he picked it up and carried to the back. It went on a shelf near the three-quarters bath which was tucked in the farthest corner of the store. This tightly positioned space by the rear entrance included a rarely used shower stall, toilet, plus sink and was on the opposite side of the staircase that connected the first floor with the residential floors above.

 

This floor plan made it terribly convenient for Yohji who often lounged just outside the backdoor smoking or simply goofing off even when he was officially on duty.

 

On either side of the backdoor were the twin overhangs protecting Aya's and Yohji's cars. Ken's Kawasaki motorcycle along with the store's rather comical pink delivery scooter was parked in the large storage area connected to the loading dock. This wasn't exactly the most convenient option when large shipments arrived, but it was better than leaving them in the rain which was so common in the summer.

 

A few steps inside the backdoor yet concealed behind a lengthy wall hanging, a secret spiral staircase led to the basement and the heavily used Weiss mission operations areas. The computers, large-screen television, and other accoutrements therein were far from Ken's mind, though, as he resumed his search for something worthwhile to do.

 

With a touch of sadness blended with annoyance, he ran his eyes over the two cluttered work benches arranged on either side of the walkway which ran down the middle of the large room.

 

“Aya could've at least put his things away after he finished the arrangements for that funeral this morning,” Ken complained without rancor. Shaking his head, he began collecting up the various implements that the redhead had carelessly left scattered about. As each pair of sheers was cleaned and then stored, he reflected on the level of dedication it had taken to get the work done in the first place.

 

After dropping several rolls of florist's tape into a drawer, Ken leaned against a countertop and shut his eyes as he whispered, “It wasn't our fault that stupid schoolgirl died. Hell, Weiss wasn't even in that particular area because we were looking for a freaky necrophiliac rapist who liked his victims freshly dead.”

 

The on-going case which had just entered Ken's mind was a seriously worrisome one which Persia's own staff had been struggling mightily with for much longer than Weiss was even aware of it.

 

The deceased victim who had brought the matter to the attention of the florist/assassins had been a spoiled high school girl who had unwisely chosen to turn tricks for money to spend on trendy clothes but wound up dead because of it. The perpetrator of the crime had already been codenamed “Christie” by Kritiker's profilers, naming him after the reviled British serial killer John Reginald Halliday Christie.

 

The original Christie had been plagued by situational impotence as well as an unquenchable attraction to ladies who could never refuse him, in other words, female corpses. The true depths of his murderous reign over London's Notting Hill neighborhood during the first half of the twentieth century would never be fully known. Regardless of that, there was enough evidence of his preference for cold-blooded murder prior to extended and repeated acts of rape to convict and later execute him.

 

Everything about the Japanese lunatic whose activities were dangerously on the rise indicated a similar method of operation save for a desire to slit the throats of his victims rather than to strangle them to death. It was only a matter of time until Weiss would be called into action to put a stop to him if the Tokyo Police Department continued to be stymied in their own efforts to do the same.

 

The middle of the night was when “Christie” struck and so it would undoubtedly be during the hours of deepest darkness when he, too, met his fate at the hands of the living shinigami known as Weiss.

 

Rubbing a suddenly burning eye with the back of his hand, Ken added quietly, “Even though it shouldn't have been,” he was quietly fighting a faint battle with a few rogue teardrops as he sighed and whispered to himself, “it was still a real shocker to see the way Aya reacted when he literally stumbled across her body while we were trying to track down that asshole who's been selling tainted dope. Man, you'd think every dead chick wearing a fuku in Tokyo reminded him of his sister….”

 

The mission that he and his teammates had been dispatched to accomplish that night had ultimately been abandoned once the field leader found himself with innocent blood drenching his trench coat yet again. Even though it was Yohji who constantly bragged about his popularity with the ladies, it was often a toss up as to which of them was more affected by victims such as the one Ken was now reflecting upon.

 

The painful irony of the Koneko receiving a large order for flowers for that particular girl's funeral hadn't been lost on anyone, though, and even the youngest member of the team had been hard hit by it. Sometimes it was difficult to know why certain things seemed to pain the seventeen year old more than other things did, but this time it seemed self-evident.

 

“Come to think of it, Omi's been gone awfully long just to deliver those bouquets,” Ken mused aloud. With a shrug, he amended, “Then again, he probably went off to see that `mystery lover' of his afterwards. Getting comforted usually helps him pull that genki smile of his back together faster than anything else. I can't help but wonder who he sees when he vanishes like this, though….”

 

Taking broom and dustpan in hand, Ken went about the task of sweeping up the mess that Aya had left on the floor as well. The rhythmic swish of the bristles was ignored as he went back to his earlier internal monologue.

 

//Was it just `comfort' that any of us were seeking the first time either me and Yohji or me and Aya wound up making out together after a mission? I'm not sure….//

 

A deep breath did utterly nothing to calm him as he considered this further.

 

//But it's starting to happen more and more these days. It seems to happen mostly after pretty stressful jobs for Persia, but I'm starting to think I really ought to choose one guy or the other before it *really* gets complicated.//

 

Scratching the back of his head nervously, Ken silently avoided facing the facts head on even as he tried to convince himself otherwise.

 

//I'm pretty sure they both know they're each having sex with me separately and all, but what if they don't? Hmmm… that could be a real problem either way, I guess.//

 

Leaning on the broom for a moment, he frowned thoughtfully as an intriguing mental image of the two sexy men intertwined intimately together presented itself.

 

//I wonder if they ever do it together without me? It's kinda sexy to imagine, but it seems doubtful. They're both so damned hung up on being the one in charge and all….//

 

The only thing that he was absolutely confident of was that neither of the elder members of Weiss was taking questionable liberties with the youngest assassin in their midst. It was comforting to know that Omi was the very image of the protected youngest brother of their deadly fraternity. Thus, Ken had at least one less worry as his heart ached and reminded him that he needed to find out if he was the only one who worried if this was all merely sex or if there were deeper emotions involved.

 

//Even if I don't pick one or the other, it would be better to at least *try* to talk to Yohji and Aya about what any of all this screwing around really means. If I'm the only one who's wishing for at least a little love along with the great sex, well, I guess I'm up shit creek, aren't I?//

 

Memories of brief, white hot moments spent with his two older coworkers splashed themselves across Ken's mind's eye. He didn't necessarily want the erotic recollections to present themselves when he was in the middle of a work shift, but since he was apt to be alone in the shop for quite awhile, he just didn't bother to stop himself from thinking about it.

 

After a virtual kaleidoscope of erotic scenes danced across his mind's eye, Ken found himself taking a deeper look back as he recalled the difficult night that Yohji redefined their relationship for all time.

 

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To be continued….