Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Up Late ❯ Just Research ( Chapter 1 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Miko No Hoshi 
Omi stays up late for a bit of...research.
OmixAya
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Hentai | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 08.10.2005 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.8K | Visits: 1.3K | Status: Completed
Omi stays up late for a bit of...research.
OmixAya
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Hentai | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 08.10.2005 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.8K | Visits: 1.3K | Status: Completed
Author's Notes: Do you need the warnings? Okay, only one more time... yaoi, sex, with two men...and probably some out of character too. Oh, and the computer stuff...it’s all fake...I think...I’m an english major not a computer programmer, damnit! Enjoy.
Up Late
The house creaked. Omi's head shot up from where he sat hunched over his computer. He listened for a moment to the silence, telling himself for the tenth time that no one was awake at such an hour. Returning his hands to the keys, he once again went to work disabling the password of the site. It was simple work and soon he had full access to the information he sought. Quickly he clicked on pages and saved them to CDs that could be transferred to his laptop for later viewing.
The computer clicked and whirred, much too loud.
Finishing the task, he set about deleting the history, careful to take only what was necessary lest someone become suspicious. Though the computer was basically his domain, the others were known to use it too. Though surely anything odd would be blamed instantly on Yohji. Checking the recycle bin one last time, he removed the CD and turned only to come face to face with Aya.
The red haired assassin was perched on the edge of the leather sofa, his long legs out before him and arms crossed over his chest. Obviously dressed for bed, he wore only a pair of black pants that looked too much like silk not to be. Omi wondered exactly how long he had been there, but the disapproving look on his face said it all: long enough.
"Aya-kun...I...I," he tucked the CD behind his back, instantly berating himself for the childish action.
Aya stood, walking over, so close that Omi could feel the heat emanating from his body.
"You know," he said, "people can still restore the files if you don't get rid of the footprints."
Even in Omi's shocked mind the fact registered as true. Of corse, he knew that, but who would look for footprints on /his/ computer besides him? Grabbing Omi's chair, Aya turned him back toward the glowing screen. Slender arms reached over his shoulder and tapped the keys. In a few moments the main directory was up and Omi's heart sank as with a few deft clicks Aya had fully restored exactly what he had been looking at moments ago.
Leaning forward Aya whispered in his ear, "See Omi?"
Slowly Omi nodded, eyes falling to his lap, bright blush rushing to his cheeks. A delicate hand lifted his chin, forcing him to look at the screen with its erotic content and flashing banners.
"Do you like these places Omi?" Aya asked, his voice low and unreadable.
"I...I..."
"You're not as innocent as we think, are you?" the hand left his chin, only to rest on his shoulder, prolonging the contact he needed so badly to avoid.
"Please...I..." he felt tears begin to sting his eyes. He didn't want them to know. He didn't want to change what they thought of him. Weiss needed innocence, something to watch and hope for. He didn't want to betray that.
With a sudden force, Aya turned the chair once more to face him. Leaning forward, he captured Omi's lips with his own, forcing his tongue inside with a passion too strong to resist. He was given no response, but he pulled back with only a more determined look. First placing one knee in the chair beside Omi's thigh draping his arms around his neck, he pulled himself up to sit in the boy's lap facing him. Quite purposely avoiding certain contacts.
"Aya-kun!" Omi whisper-shouted in something near shock. So many nights he had sat in this very chair and fantasized about this very thing. So many day he had watched that perfect butt as Aya bent over flowers in the shop. So many dreams. Surely Aya did not mean by this what Omi hoped he did.
"What Omi? Don't you want," he raised his head to stare blatantly over Omi's shoulder and to the screen, "that."
"Aya-kun..." What could he say?
It didn't seem to matter to Aya as the redhead slid off his lap to sit gracefully on the floor between his knees. There was a hint of mischief in purple eyes as their owner brought a hand to the button of Omi's shorts. In one smooth motion the fastening was undone and very soon the zipper too was taken care of. Pulling Omi's hardening organ from its prison, Aya ran his right hand up and down the shaft, staring the whole time into the boy's eyes.
Omi blushed, swallowing hard. His hands clenched tightly on the arms of the chair. Aya continued to work, using his left hand to push back the fabric of the pants to caress other sensitive areas. After one strong look Aya ducted his head to run his rough tongue across Omi's stomach. His hands still moved as mouth drew ever closer to its presumed destination.
Omi gasped, breathing in a shallow, broken breath.
Suddenly Aya pulled away. He ran a last lingering touch over Omi's erect cock before standing. Placing a light kiss on the younger boy's forehead, he turned and walked toward the couch. Pale slender fingers ran along the black leather. Omi watched in rapt attention as they floated to the edge of the silk pants. Facing away, Aya pushed the elastic band beneath his hips and the cloth fell to puddle on the ground.
Omi blinked. Standing before him was a vision of beauty. Shapely and ivory, lit only by the blue light of the screen. His arms cross in front of him unseen, hands laying on his thin hips just above the two perfect globes of his bottom. It was there that Omi's sights were locked.
"You want me Omi?" Aya asked, placing his hands on the arm of the black leather arm of the sofa. Still facing away from Omi he spread his legs just slightly, leaning over in a most provocative way so that Omi could see...everything.
"Aya-kun..."
"Come on Omi. Take me."
"I-I can't..."
Aya grabbed his own erection, moaning out loud as he stroked himself. Letting his legs spread further apart, he looked over his shoulder to give Omi a wanton stare. Shaking, Omi rose. The chair rolled back to hit softly against the desk as he bumped it on his first unsure step towards the waiting Aya.
"Please," the redhead moaned.
"H-hai," his voice shook and he berated himself for being so overcome, but then again, this was Aya. He took the last step, shuffling for a moment to removed his pants in a fashion no where near as gracefully as the older man. When they were off, he tossed them firmly across the room to land on the stairs.
Cautiously, he approached, reaching out a hand to brush over one of Aya's hips. The skin was so soft, silk held only an unworthy comparison. He stepped behind the redhead, and suddenly Aya's backed up so that Omi's cock bumped his ass and made the younger boy cry out in pleasure.
"Aya-kun...I don't--"
"I'm fine. Do it Omi."
An order, simple to follow, and oh he wanted to. He lined up his pulsing organ with Aya's small opening.
"We need something."
"Now Omi!"
With a grunt of satisfaction, Omi plunged into Aya in one thrust of strength. There was no pause, and Aya requested none, before the blond began to move his hips, pistoning his cock in and out of the redhead's tight channel, consumed by the heat of it all.
He grabbed Aya's waist, using it as leverage to deepen his thrust. He inhaled, smelled the sweat, the heat, the something-Aya. It all mixed in his head and just before it became too much¾
Omi awoke to his own cry, bent uncomfortably over the computer desk and raging hardon tucked between his legs. He groaned and rubbed at the imprint the keyboard had left on his forehead, reevaluating the worth of staying up after the mission reports were done to look at porn.
The click of soft steps on the stairs drew his attention and with a near instinctual motion he shut down the web page he had been studying before the inopportune, though entertaining, dream had overtaken him. In the dim light of the screen, Omi made out the person on the stairs; it was Aya.
"Aya-kun!"
"Hn," he stood there, dressed in a tight white t-shirt and a black pair of boxer shorts.
"What are you doing up?"
"I heard a noise."
"I'm sorry Aya-kun. I fell asleep and I guess I was dreaming. Woke myself up though," he laughed nervously. Aya apparently noted the difference, his head tilting just a bit in contemplation, but decided not to comment.
Withdrawing back up the stairs Aya met Yohji. Following the blonde to the fridge, he accepted the cheap beer when it was offered him. After taking a seat in the living room, he was content to have a lanky teammate to snuggle up against. A bronze arm fell easily around his shoulder and Yohji leaned over to whisper in his ear.
"You're up late. Looking at porn with Omi?"
"You know I wouldn't look at those things."
"And Omi?"
They both shared a quiet laugh at the impossibility of it all.
~the end~
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Up Late
The house creaked. Omi's head shot up from where he sat hunched over his computer. He listened for a moment to the silence, telling himself for the tenth time that no one was awake at such an hour. Returning his hands to the keys, he once again went to work disabling the password of the site. It was simple work and soon he had full access to the information he sought. Quickly he clicked on pages and saved them to CDs that could be transferred to his laptop for later viewing.
The computer clicked and whirred, much too loud.
Finishing the task, he set about deleting the history, careful to take only what was necessary lest someone become suspicious. Though the computer was basically his domain, the others were known to use it too. Though surely anything odd would be blamed instantly on Yohji. Checking the recycle bin one last time, he removed the CD and turned only to come face to face with Aya.
The red haired assassin was perched on the edge of the leather sofa, his long legs out before him and arms crossed over his chest. Obviously dressed for bed, he wore only a pair of black pants that looked too much like silk not to be. Omi wondered exactly how long he had been there, but the disapproving look on his face said it all: long enough.
"Aya-kun...I...I," he tucked the CD behind his back, instantly berating himself for the childish action.
Aya stood, walking over, so close that Omi could feel the heat emanating from his body.
"You know," he said, "people can still restore the files if you don't get rid of the footprints."
Even in Omi's shocked mind the fact registered as true. Of corse, he knew that, but who would look for footprints on /his/ computer besides him? Grabbing Omi's chair, Aya turned him back toward the glowing screen. Slender arms reached over his shoulder and tapped the keys. In a few moments the main directory was up and Omi's heart sank as with a few deft clicks Aya had fully restored exactly what he had been looking at moments ago.
Leaning forward Aya whispered in his ear, "See Omi?"
Slowly Omi nodded, eyes falling to his lap, bright blush rushing to his cheeks. A delicate hand lifted his chin, forcing him to look at the screen with its erotic content and flashing banners.
"Do you like these places Omi?" Aya asked, his voice low and unreadable.
"I...I..."
"You're not as innocent as we think, are you?" the hand left his chin, only to rest on his shoulder, prolonging the contact he needed so badly to avoid.
"Please...I..." he felt tears begin to sting his eyes. He didn't want them to know. He didn't want to change what they thought of him. Weiss needed innocence, something to watch and hope for. He didn't want to betray that.
With a sudden force, Aya turned the chair once more to face him. Leaning forward, he captured Omi's lips with his own, forcing his tongue inside with a passion too strong to resist. He was given no response, but he pulled back with only a more determined look. First placing one knee in the chair beside Omi's thigh draping his arms around his neck, he pulled himself up to sit in the boy's lap facing him. Quite purposely avoiding certain contacts.
"Aya-kun!" Omi whisper-shouted in something near shock. So many nights he had sat in this very chair and fantasized about this very thing. So many day he had watched that perfect butt as Aya bent over flowers in the shop. So many dreams. Surely Aya did not mean by this what Omi hoped he did.
"What Omi? Don't you want," he raised his head to stare blatantly over Omi's shoulder and to the screen, "that."
"Aya-kun..." What could he say?
It didn't seem to matter to Aya as the redhead slid off his lap to sit gracefully on the floor between his knees. There was a hint of mischief in purple eyes as their owner brought a hand to the button of Omi's shorts. In one smooth motion the fastening was undone and very soon the zipper too was taken care of. Pulling Omi's hardening organ from its prison, Aya ran his right hand up and down the shaft, staring the whole time into the boy's eyes.
Omi blushed, swallowing hard. His hands clenched tightly on the arms of the chair. Aya continued to work, using his left hand to push back the fabric of the pants to caress other sensitive areas. After one strong look Aya ducted his head to run his rough tongue across Omi's stomach. His hands still moved as mouth drew ever closer to its presumed destination.
Omi gasped, breathing in a shallow, broken breath.
Suddenly Aya pulled away. He ran a last lingering touch over Omi's erect cock before standing. Placing a light kiss on the younger boy's forehead, he turned and walked toward the couch. Pale slender fingers ran along the black leather. Omi watched in rapt attention as they floated to the edge of the silk pants. Facing away, Aya pushed the elastic band beneath his hips and the cloth fell to puddle on the ground.
Omi blinked. Standing before him was a vision of beauty. Shapely and ivory, lit only by the blue light of the screen. His arms cross in front of him unseen, hands laying on his thin hips just above the two perfect globes of his bottom. It was there that Omi's sights were locked.
"You want me Omi?" Aya asked, placing his hands on the arm of the black leather arm of the sofa. Still facing away from Omi he spread his legs just slightly, leaning over in a most provocative way so that Omi could see...everything.
"Aya-kun..."
"Come on Omi. Take me."
"I-I can't..."
Aya grabbed his own erection, moaning out loud as he stroked himself. Letting his legs spread further apart, he looked over his shoulder to give Omi a wanton stare. Shaking, Omi rose. The chair rolled back to hit softly against the desk as he bumped it on his first unsure step towards the waiting Aya.
"Please," the redhead moaned.
"H-hai," his voice shook and he berated himself for being so overcome, but then again, this was Aya. He took the last step, shuffling for a moment to removed his pants in a fashion no where near as gracefully as the older man. When they were off, he tossed them firmly across the room to land on the stairs.
Cautiously, he approached, reaching out a hand to brush over one of Aya's hips. The skin was so soft, silk held only an unworthy comparison. He stepped behind the redhead, and suddenly Aya's backed up so that Omi's cock bumped his ass and made the younger boy cry out in pleasure.
"Aya-kun...I don't--"
"I'm fine. Do it Omi."
An order, simple to follow, and oh he wanted to. He lined up his pulsing organ with Aya's small opening.
"We need something."
"Now Omi!"
With a grunt of satisfaction, Omi plunged into Aya in one thrust of strength. There was no pause, and Aya requested none, before the blond began to move his hips, pistoning his cock in and out of the redhead's tight channel, consumed by the heat of it all.
He grabbed Aya's waist, using it as leverage to deepen his thrust. He inhaled, smelled the sweat, the heat, the something-Aya. It all mixed in his head and just before it became too much¾
Omi awoke to his own cry, bent uncomfortably over the computer desk and raging hardon tucked between his legs. He groaned and rubbed at the imprint the keyboard had left on his forehead, reevaluating the worth of staying up after the mission reports were done to look at porn.
The click of soft steps on the stairs drew his attention and with a near instinctual motion he shut down the web page he had been studying before the inopportune, though entertaining, dream had overtaken him. In the dim light of the screen, Omi made out the person on the stairs; it was Aya.
"Aya-kun!"
"Hn," he stood there, dressed in a tight white t-shirt and a black pair of boxer shorts.
"What are you doing up?"
"I heard a noise."
"I'm sorry Aya-kun. I fell asleep and I guess I was dreaming. Woke myself up though," he laughed nervously. Aya apparently noted the difference, his head tilting just a bit in contemplation, but decided not to comment.
Withdrawing back up the stairs Aya met Yohji. Following the blonde to the fridge, he accepted the cheap beer when it was offered him. After taking a seat in the living room, he was content to have a lanky teammate to snuggle up against. A bronze arm fell easily around his shoulder and Yohji leaned over to whisper in his ear.
"You're up late. Looking at porn with Omi?"
"You know I wouldn't look at those things."
"And Omi?"
They both shared a quiet laugh at the impossibility of it all.
~the end~
Please review! You know you get more if you review...