Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ White Desires ❯ OMAKE! ( Chapter 3 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

White Desires (2.5/2)

by paxnirvana Rating: NC-17 Fandom: Weiß Kreuz Characters: Yohji x Aya Date Completed: 11/24/03 Archive: Please ask first.

Author's Note: Me bad. Boys in chains. Boys in chains inspired by Kapital's opening credits... ::drool:: Non-arc story. Stand alone. I use 'An Assassin and White Shaman', 'Kapital' and 'Verbrechen-Strafe', but I completely ignore 'Dramatic Precious', 'Gluhen' and 'Weiß Side B'. *wink*

Omake! pax is a bad, bad author who adores nasty cliff-hanger endings that leave things to your imagination... but Manon threatened my 'Haru' supply, so... SMUUUUUT! *bows abjectly in apology to all* Because one must be nice to one's handmaidens too... or they get very cranky!

Yes, one can just paste this in right over that pesky last smut-less section if one wishes... *grin*

Disclaimer: Weiß Kreuz belongs to Takehito [how many times can I fuck up spelling his name!? Doh!] Koyasu, Project Weiß and others - not me. *sigh* But this is for fan entertainment only, absolutely no money being made. The good doctor, however frightening that may be, does belong to me so please ask if you want to borrow him.

But if there was a single truth, a single light A single thought, a singular touch of grace Then following this single point, this single flame, This single haunted memory of your face... A Thousand Years - Sting

Much later, Ken was settled in his own room, deeply asleep and Omi had come back to the house safely alone. The boy had returned, face drawn with exhaustion, eyes worried, just a few hours before false dawn lightened the sky.

There had still been no word from Aya.

Yohji stood by the window of the tiny bedroom he'd claimed, the narrow bed undisturbed behind him, smoking and staring out into the overgrown side yard. Untrimmed bushes and trees spilled over the fences and pressed up against the house, partially obscuring the windows of the shabby suburban house in a deteriorating neighborhood. It was one of the reasons they'd rented it - so their comings and goings would be harder to note.

He wasn't particularly tired yet. Probably from the 24-hours of drug-induced rest he'd received courtesy of Shiroi. His ribs still hurt, but Omi's rough nursing skills were enough to determine that while none were actually broken, one or two might be cracked. A few aspirin and an athletic bandage for support had taken care of part of the ache, but Omi hadn't wanted to give him anything stronger after Shiroi's unknown cocktail. That suited Yohji just fine; he'd had enough of high-power drugs for a while. His cigarettes had helped soothe his aches more than the aspirin.

Outside, the normal world was waking up and starting to go about it's calm, ordinary business. Birds were calling to each other in the trees outside; a dog barked somewhere when a car started, faint and muffled by distance. The cloying shadows of night were falling to the rose and peach and pale blue of dawn.

The door slid open behind him, nearly noiseless in it's track. He heard motion and the rustle of clothing as someone entered, then the door slid closed again with a soft thump. His pulse leaped, blood rushing deafeningly for a moment in his ears.

"I didn't think you were going to come back," he said after a long moment of silence, not bothering to turn around. The cigarette in his hand trembled slightly, the smoke fluttering up, it's steady stream disturbed by the motion.

"You know that isn't an option for any of us," the familiar deep voice said quietly.

"No," Yohji said with a sigh, reaching forward to crush out the cigarette in the saucer littered with several more butts that sat on the windowsill in front of him. "We don't have a lot of choices left to us, do we?"

It was a rhetorical question and deserved the silence it received. He folded his arms carefully over his chest before leaning forward enough to press his forehead against the cool glass.

"I want to kiss you again," he said to the windowpane, watching his breath cloud the surface. There was no reply. He waited, frozen, pulse tripping faster, until he couldn't stand it any more and turned slowly around, leaning back against the wall.

He looked across the bed and the slowly brightening room to find Aya standing in front of the door, wearing a tee shirt and dark pants. His expression was flat and unreadable, the narrow gaze fixed steadily on him. There was no anger in that gaze, no disgust or outrage, but no welcome either. It raked over him pausing on the darkening bruises on his face and throat, and the grim mouth tightened further.

"What did he do to you?" Aya asked. Yohji let the corner of his mouth turn up slightly in an ironic smile as he listened to the urgent throb of his own pulse sounding the word fool fool fool in his ears.

"Beat the shit out of me because I wouldn't give him what he wanted."

The slim brows rose in silent inquiry.

"Your sister."

Something dark and savage flared in Aya's eyes then, his slack hands fisting at his sides. "How does he know about her?"

"He's Esset. He's the doctor who... prepared her for that ceremony."

Aya's face clouded with fury as he silently absorbed the information.

"We'll have to hunt him down; Omi only grazed him," Yohji went on, letting his hands fall to his sides. He briefly wished he hadn't crushed out his cigarette so he'd have something to do with his hands, but he didn't want to light another now.

"I know," Aya said, his expression still dark as he stared off into the middle distance, maybe bitterly regretting an opportunity passed by to take out the doctor sometime during the night.

"He doesn't know who you are... but I think he suspects," Yohji added, remembering Shiroi's odd comments about recognizing him.

"We will hunt him," Aya said starkly.

"We'd better, because he's sure as hell going to come after us," Yohji said. He just stared at Aya then, out of words, but feeling the throb of his blood, urgent through his body. The other man stood silent, lost in dark contemplation for long minutes, until finally he lifted his gaze to Yohji's again.

"This was never supposed to happen," Aya said, something smoldering in the depths of his gaze and Yohji's heart lurched wildly in his chest. Heat. The heat he remembered from so long ago. Unleashed at last.

"You think I planned for this?" Yohji took a step away from the window, watching Aya intently. "This is so fucking stupid I can't believe it." He took another step, around the end of the bed and Aya's head turned to follow his slow approach. "You aren't tied up or drugged all to hell now." Aya waited silently, watching him. Yohji felt a slow, liquid smile stretch his lips - the pain inconsequential - as he reached Aya's side.

Aya's head had tipped back the fraction necessary to keep their gazes locked, ragged red bangs shading his eyes. He licked his lips slowly, deliberately, it seemed, then let them part.

"I want you to fuck me," Aya said and the bottom dropped out of Yohji's stomach.

He was already reaching for him. "Hell, yes," he all but growled.

Aya didn't move away or struggle as hands closed on his shoulders then pushed him back firmly into the wall. The heavy-lidded eyes held his gaze steadily even as he closed on him. Yohji followed the fold of his arms, moved up hard against Aya and pressed them tight from chest to thigh.

Heat. No ice at all. Pure, deadly heat. Maybe the heat targets saw before they died on his blade. He didn't care. It was his at last. Yohji leaned down, mouth already opening, eyes slipping closed. Feeling as if he needed to be welded to the lean, hard body against his. Needed it more than air. Aya's lips parted, a quick puff of breath washing over his before they touched then... fire. Searing, tingling through his mouth at the contact until it was all he could feel. The awareness of Aya pressed against him stealing all thought.

He didn't hesitate, but forced his tongue deep into Aya's mouth. Felt Aya's jaw relax, his lips soften to let him in. Instant surrender. He made a low sound of satisfaction deep in his throat, blood racing hard through his veins and throbbing all along his skin everywhere he touched the other man.

Tongues slid against each other, tangling slick and hot and urgent. Breaking away, his traced along sharp teeth, before it probed deeper, testing. Aya just opened his mouth wider, taking him in. His sore lip protested, but he ignored it, flicking his tongue deep, searching for hesitation, rejection. Found none. Was pleased when strong, competent hands finally flattened tight against his back, across his shoulders, as if it might be possible to draw him even closer.

The pressure made him surge up, thighs pulsing, hardened flesh riding against the angular hips trapped by his own. Sweet agony. His hands found themselves wound in thick hair, fingers threading deep. He tilted Aya's head back, rolling it against the wall and tearing their mouths apart only to trail his own down the raised chin, along the faintly rough jaw. His lips found the sleek shape of an earlobe, sucked on it gently to the sound of unsteady gasps for breath. The hands on his back moved higher, cupped his shoulders until the spread fingers bit deep.

He pulled one hand out of Aya's hair, dropped it to the gently bulging shoulder muscle beneath, slid it along the arm, tracing it back until he caught a strong wrist. He slammed it against the wall above Aya's head, leaning on the arm with his own, hips surging up quick and hard. It almost hurt, almost... so firm, Aya's body against his. Nothing soft about him at all. Completely male and unyielding... His cock trapped within his pants ached from the friction, the constriction, the heat as he thrust against him again.

The first sound left Aya then; a soft, shuddering groan. He smiled against the skin beneath Aya's ear. It was intoxicating, that sound. Heady. He mouthed the tender skin, tongue darting out to taste, to tease. Another soft groan rolled from the throat beneath his mouth.

In a flash he had Aya's other wrist in hand, twisted it up and trapped it with the first. Used one hand to cover both, pressing them hard against the wall even as he shifted himself to the side, dropping his free hand down between them, stroking it along Aya's body until it reached his groin. Pressed it down over the hard length he found straining against the zipper of the dark slacks, cupping him reverently, his mouth falling open to breathe out sharply in satisfaction against Aya's neck. He buried his face in thick red hair that smelled of sweat and cordite as his pulse thundered in his ears. Such heat... all for him...

"You've been fucked before?" he asked. Wanting to know, not wanting to know.

Aya shuddered briefly, swallowed. Stayed silent for too long; long enough that Yohji knew he wasn't going to answer him. The wrists in his grasp flexed slightly but he only tightened his grip and slid a thigh between Aya's, trapping his own hand beneath it over Aya's twitching cock. The other man hissed slightly, rising up against the pressure.

"That hurt?" Yohji said, voice pitched deliberately low, mouth vibrating against Aya's throat.

The pale throat bobbed as he swallowed again. "Uncomfortable," Aya admitted.

"Answer my question, then," he purred dangerously, mouth moving on skin. The need to know had sharpened on Aya's reluctance.

"Yes," Aya said at last, voice huskier, deeper even than normal. "I have been fucked before."

Darkness flared. Anger. Jealousy. "Who?"

"No one you would know."

He rocked his thigh up a fraction, tightening his hand. "That's not what I asked..."

Aya grunted. Gasped out, "Yuushi Honjyo."

He eased the pressure slightly. "Who was he?"

"A teammate. From Crashers."

He had to fight to keep from squeezing again as anger washed through him. Crashers was another of Kritiker's teams. One that Aya had left without permission to go solo in pursuit of his revenge; the reason Weiß had first hunted him down all that time ago. Aya was panting slightly, had risen up on the balls of his feet, head arched back against the wall as his arms flexed. Pale skin bloomed with a light sheen of sweat. Yohji licked beneath the tight jaw, tasting it, struggling with the shockingly intense sense of possessiveness that threatened to overcome his control. No woman had ever made him feel quite this way, not even Asu--

But then he'd never waited this long for a woman before either... Or wanted for so long without having...

"This a habit of yours? Fucking teammates?" His voice was sharp, hard.

"No."

"No?" Disbelieving. Faintly outraged.

Aya's voice dropped, was little more than breath. "I haven't fucked you yet."

Aya-logic. Splitting hairs; so literal and completely without humor. Yohji laughed anyway, soft and low. He softened his grip, eased his thigh away enough so that Aya drew a deeper, if faintly unsteady, breath.

"No, not yet. You're right." He drew back further, looking into the other man's face framed between his upraised arms. Wanted things then that he shied away from, falling into the safer realm of lust and residual anger. "But you want me to change that."

The closed eyelids flickered, slowly opened. He looked into glittering eyes, drowned in liquid heat. Challenge. Impatience. Longing.

"Yes."

He covered those lips before the word could fade away, taking it in. Aya's hips surged against his thigh, rolling hardness against muscle provocatively. He smiled smugly against Aya's lips, the sting from the split in it reminding him briefly of Shiroi... of what they'd endured... He shook the sobering thoughts away with determination as his hand slowly gathered up soft cotton at Aya's waist, tugging the plain tee-shirt gradually free of the slacks. Aya's breath sucked in around his mouth as his fingers skimmed over the tight stomach muscles, then down, making the lean belly quiver briefly. It was slightly awkward to undo the button backwards and with only one hand without moving away, but he managed it, mouth still moving on Aya's - tasting, absorbing - the while.

The zipper fell easily beneath his deft touch. He was faintly surprised when Aya's cock surged free of the fabric and into his hand. No underwear. He would never have guessed it... unless...

He drew back, releasing Aya's mouth at last. Devoured with his gaze the faintly flushed face, the closed eyes, the parted lips glistening with his own saliva. Oh yes... he wanted it... wanted him. He stroked the silken length in his hand slowly and watched the hidden eyes flicker beneath the lids, the mouth part more, heard breath come faster.

The pale chin lowered, the eyes opened fractionally, watching him as he stroked faster, hand sure and knowing. The cock in his hand swelled more, slick fluid seeping from the end. He swirled it around, listening eagerly to the soft sound of wetness, of flesh-in-flesh. Aya let out a single panting gasp, lower lip trembling faintly as his breathing roughened. Yohji stared at it, fascinated, stroking faster when the tip of a pink tongue darted out to wet the drying skin. Could almost imagine that normally grim mouth wrapped around his own cock... eager... taking him in... He pulsed against Aya's hip, groaning himself now, loud and deep.

"Come for me, Aya," he said, low, raw. "Give me something to fuck you with..."

Aya's wrists surged against his imprisoning hand, eyes clenching closed as narrow hips thrust and shuddered; the cock in his hand was pulsing - thick, hot come splattering messily across Aya's own belly, against Yohji's shirt, over his fingers. He groaned along with Aya, face tilting down the better to see, teeth clenching as he milked the last spurts from Aya's cock and watched them spill over his hand, wasted. Not like before... infinitely better... because it was his hand on Aya this time...

"So fucking hot... damn..." Yohji gasped, feeling almost as if he'd come himself, despite the pulsing, aching evidence otherwise inside his far-too-tight pants. He lifted his head slowly, looking into Aya's tipped-back face. Aya's mouth was open wide and he was panting for breath, the flush on his face making his skin glow as his head rolled slack between faintly trembling arms.

He lifted fingers covered with sticky white come and wiped them over the reddened lips. Leaned forward eagerly then and licked the yeasty, dry flavor off Aya's lips before carrying it into Aya's own mouth with his tongue, sharing it with him. Aya moaned, lips pushing against his in response, tongue tangling with his as if eager for the taste of himself.

Mouth slid over mouth, working, sucking, pulling. His loosened hair brushed against Aya's, shadowing them both, red and gold strands tangling like their breath. So hot and moist, so eager... After long moments of this, Yohji eased his crushing grip on his wrists, lowering them down until Aya's arms lay loosely around his shoulders before releasing them. Then only to wrap his arms tightly around Aya, drawing him hard against him as mouth continued to move on mouth, wet, seeking, both of them greedy and frantic. There was damp heat between them - Aya's come - soaking into his shirt over his own belly. He groaned deep in his throat at the recognition. Aya made an urgent sound in reply, leaning into his hold, arms tightening around him in return as fingers slid up to tangle in Yohji's hair before fisting there as he shifted away from the wall.

It was an awkward dance, shuffling backwards - Aya leaning into him as if he would fall otherwise - while keeping their mouths still fused, but Yohji let momentum guide them back across the tiny room. Ready for more... for everything... He felt the edge of the bed hit his calf and collapsed back slowly, controlling it so that when he lay flat Aya was draped across his less sore side. Despite his care, his ribs twinged painfully and he mentally cursed Shiroi for losing control there at the end. He stiffened for a moment, willing the pain to subside, and Aya shifted away, breaking the kiss at last to suck in deep, unsteady breaths. His brows lowered in a faint frown as he looked into Yohji's face, then he pulled his hand free of the tangle of Yohji's hair to straighten up slightly, the frown growing stronger.

"You're injured."

"Yeah," he said, meeting the cooling stare with undiminished heat of his own. Oh no, there'd be no backing out now. "But I'm still going to fuck you..."

He skimmed a hand down the lean back, fingers sweeping under the loosened waistband of Aya's slacks to brush across the upper swell of his ass. His hand lingered, tracing first one sleek rise then the other on either side of the narrow dip between, eyes slipping closed in concentration. So perfect... His finger trailed along that soft line, amusement twisting his lips as Aya tightened his butt, trapping his fingertip briefly.

He looked up into annoyed lavender eyes, illuminated clearly by the strengthening morning light.

"Idiot. It'll hurt more like this."

"Not if you do all the work," he said, the smirk widening as his meaning sank in and Aya's eyes flared dangerously.

"All right." Aya slid back out of his grasp as the calm words sank in, sending a flare of heat through him that made him groan. He wanted to lunge up, catch him and draw him back, but he swiftly discovered moving from horizontal to vertical in a hurry was not an option with his sore ribs. He was reduced to gasping and clutching at them for the pain that stabbed through him at the aborted effort. He should have stayed standing up.

Aya stood beside the bed, watching him for a moment before pale hands crossed at his waist and in one easy motion lifted, stripping the tee-shirt away over his head. Baring his pale, lean-muscled torso still smeared with white along his belly. The open slacks hung precariously low on his hips. With a brush of his hands they fell away, down his legs, and he stepped out of them, naked. Yohji stared at the body revealed, marveling anew at the grace of the other's motions, the clean lines of his form. So perfect, save for the dull shine and faded white of scars, the shadows of bruises. His half-softened cock lay between his thighs, framed by soft red hair.

Before he could protest the distance between them, Aya was kneeling between his legs where they dangled over the side of the bed. Nudging them wider to fit himself closer. His hands skimmed up from knee to inner thigh, thumbs brushing across the blatant bulge beneath Yohji's pants. Yohji sucked in a sharp breath at the touch, hips rolling back and surging up, the pressure on his ribs and the contact both making him groan.

"Don't tease," he said.

"I won't." Fingers were tugging at the snap of his pants, sliding down the tight zipper, delving beneath his boxers to find his aching length. He hissed in another sharp breath at the first touch of Aya's hand. It was just a quick exploration but still made him bite his lip to keep from coming right there, so tormented was he; then Aya's sure hands were stripping away his pants, and he was staring at the bent red head hungrily as the other man worked. Wanting to reach and grab and take, but also enthralled by the image of Aya serving him so intimately. Wanted more of that as well.

When his clothes were gone, Aya leaned over him, hands bracketing his hips, and looked down at him with the long eartails dangling around his face, his bangs a ragged curtain above darkened eyes. Yohji ran his hands up the lean forearms, stroking the warm flesh, savoring the contact - but wanting Aya's body on his more. He almost pulled him down on top of him; barely restrained himself but the curiosity over what Aya would do next won out.

"Do you have sexual lubricant nearby?" Aya asked, brows rising in inquiry.

His directness made Yohji grin, even as his cock leaped in anticipation, a thread of fluid drooling from the tip. It was a refreshing change after pandering to the romantic pretensions of the women he normally bedded. No hesitation, even this late in the game. No coyness. Just raw wanting and the willingness to satisfy it.

"In the nightstand."

Aya leaned to the side, tugged the drawer open. Shot Yohji a contemplative sidelong glance for what Yohji knew already jammed the drawer; glossy magazines featuring lush, half-naked women, vibrators, condoms, feathers and silk scarves, several bottles of massage oil - flavored and not - as well as some garishly labeled tubes of lubricant. He grinned back unabashed; that was nothing compared to the collection he'd amassed back in his rooms above the Koneko. Aya reached inside and fumbled until he found something acceptable. Tossed it onto the bed beside them before closing the drawer again, a slight scowl on his face.

"Hedonist."

"You know it." Yohji let his grin fade into a smile filled with sultry promise, lifting his hands to run them up Aya's arms again, catching at his biceps this time and pulling him down toward him. Not waiting any longer. The longer strands of hair that framed the pale, now somber face tickled his chest as Aya neared.

He let his smile fade against the faintly swollen lips. They still tasted faintly of Aya's essence. Aya opened to him without hesitation again, tongue sliding against his, sleek and slow, dulling his impatience. He hummed deep in his throat in pleasure, pressing his tongue deep.

There was a languid fire to the embrace that made him wish again that he was not so bruised, a slack compliance in Aya's body after his release that made his own heart beat heavier, sent a eager surge through him, his cock aching. He was already so close... the brush of Aya's inner thighs as he settled over him nearly a torment. His hands lay low on that lean back, still and heavy.

Aya's hand moved down between them, skimming wrapped ribs, flattening across his belly. Moving lower without hesitation or awkwardness. Fingers laced by the precome leaking from the tip slid slick and cool down the aching length of his cock. Yohji broke the kiss to groan deeply, head rolling back, Aya's breath hot on his throat as he took him in hand, gripping tightly, stroking firmly. Heaven and hell: heaven, because it felt so damn good to have Aya touching him; hell, because he wanted so much more...

"No..." he gasped, need sharpening, urgency building as his hips thrust up instinctively into that warm grasp. "Too close..."

With a soft sound of acknowledgement the darkened gaze flickered with wry understanding, Aya released him to reach to the side, retrieving the tube of lubricant and opening it to squirt a generous glob out onto the fingers of his other hand. Yohji grit his teeth, already anticipating the touch of those glistening hands and bracing himself, desperate not to disgrace himself by coming early. It would be a near thing... He hissed as Aya's hand closed around him, slick and cool, smoothing the lube over him. The faint shock of it let him cling to his control. Barely.

"Oh hell..." His hips snapped up, driving hard into that slick grasp. His balls had drawn up, tight and ready. He ached with the need to just thrust and thrust until he came all over that pale, hard body. It would be good... but that wasn't his goal...

"Wait," Aya whispered, head bowed, shuttered gaze flickering from his face to his groin as he read his urgency. Aya released him to reach back between his own legs, brushing his own semi-rigid cock and slack sac aside to spread some of the remaining lube over his own skin, fingertips disappearing briefly from sight. Yohji swallowed hard, pulse crashing in his throat. Damn... had he just fingered himself? The mental image threatened to make his mind white out with raw desire. He'd never imagined Aya to be so sensual... or was it simply his endless practicality? It didn't matter now... he just knew he wanted to see that again sometime... Aya's own finger sliding inside that tight hole, glistening with slickness... He groaned, hands dropped down and clenching tight on Aya's hips as the other man rose up above him.

Aya paused, looking down at him from half-closed eyes, lips parted to let out fast, quick breaths. His face was flushed, sparkling in spots with beads of sweat. Red hair tumbled across it, sticking, drifting. No, not just practicality... heat and need poured off him, burned deep in Aya's eyes as he shifted position. One hand held his own cock aside as the other fitted Yohji's against him. He could feel the ring of flesh press against the head, slick and tight. Felt it flutter and ease after a moment, as Aya let out a shuddering breath and slowly lowered himself down.

Heat. Slick, incredible pressure. Yohji caught his lower lip between his teeth and bit down, working hard to control himself and the urge to just slam up and fill that tight passage in one thrust. But he forced himself to endure the slow, torturous entry punctuated by pauses as Aya's body adjusted to the intrusion. He understood that it had been a very long time for Aya, and the idea made him groan deep in his throat as he watched that pale body take his inside. He'd done it this way a few times before... been done himself, once... care was needed at first... but oh, gods...

Aya looked down at him as he took in another inch of flesh, his head rolling loosely to the side, mouth open as he panted shallowly, eyes hidden behind lids so low his eyes almost looked closed if not for the faint glitter just visible beneath thick lashes.

"Good?" Yohji gasped, tearing a hand away from Aya's hip to skim it up his tense arm and over his chest. Felt the urgent race of Aya's heart beneath his fingertips.

Aya just nodded once, eyes sliding all the way closed as he tipped his head back and drove himself further down. Then he paused again, panting, his hand trembling slightly as he braced it against Yohji's hip. His thighs were tense, his body arched and taut. Almost as if he were rejecting the penetration instead of initiating it, wavering across that thin line between pain and pleasure even as his own cock swelled again between his thighs.

Yohji swallowed hard at the sight. So incredibly erotic... more erotic than the most accomplished seductress... more erotic than anything he'd seen in years... maybe ever... "Can you take it? All of it?"

"I will."

The low promise made his blood throb, shattered his already stretched control.

"Yes, you will..." he said between gritted teeth, bracing his feet on the floor and pressing up, driving himself in to the root. Aya's eyes flew open and his head fell back, his mouth opening on a soundless cry. Yohji was panting himself, the sharpening ache from his ribs warning him that more vigorous motion would be punished, but the feel of Aya surrounding him completely was enough to make the pain something to worry about later, if then. Glorious, but too much too fast. Aya's breath was fast and sharp; his body clenching on Yohji almost painfully. He fumbled a hand down, wrapped it around Aya's now-rigid cock and began to stroke it in silent apology.

The crushing pressure eased after a few moments and Aya shuddered, head rolling forward, hair covering his eyes. Yohji frowned - concerned, chagrined, but teetering on the edge of control again. His blood was surging, demanding motion and the release it promised. "Okay?" he managed through gritted teeth.

Aya leaned forward abruptly, fisted hands coming to rest beside Yohji's shoulders. The violet eyes snapped opened, searing him with their heat.

"Impatient bastard."

He gave a pleased grin, relieved that he hadn't hurt the other man unduly, and gave the hard erection in his hand a slow stroke, the grin fading away as he looked up into Aya's eyes. "Fuck me," he breathed, flexing his hips, sliding himself inside Aya fractionally as example. So good... but his ribs screamed at him for even that much motion and he winced dramatically. "Fuck yourself on me... I can't do it myself..."

A tiny satisfied smile touched Aya's mouth as he leaned down closer to him, his gaze smoldering. "Serves you right."

"Aya..." he groaned in frustration, the name disappearing as their lips touched and Aya finally began to move. Slick motion. Heat. The cock in his hand sleek and hard. Aya's body lithe and quick above him, like fire, sending him spiraling up toward his peak. Fast. Aching. Lost in the heady, familiar longing to finish, to reach the release he craved, but wanting it to last forever too... forever with Aya...

He came with a startled cry, hips surging deep, lifting Aya briefly into the air as he arched up, balls emptying of the pure heat of satisfaction in pulse after pulse, the pain from his ribs mingling with the fire-bright sparks of release into a single, breath-stealing instant of eternity that focused down to the tight body over his, the hardness in his hand, the eager mouth that closed over his and devoured his cry.

He shuddered beneath Aya, letting him savage his mouth uncontested as he pumped out the last of his release deep inside the redhead's body. Aya's hand closed over his, urged him to stroke his forgotten cock faster, harder and he did so, listening hollowly to Aya's harsh breaths with his blood still thundering in his ears, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. Felt the clench, the surge as Aya came again, wringing a second weak pulse from him; felt the hot splatters of Aya's come fall on his heaving belly as Aya shuddered against him.

He let his cock go then, wrapped his arms around lean shoulders and drew the other close, not caring about the twang from his ribs for the pressure, still struggling just to steady his breath again, mind wandering lost in a soft haze of true satisfaction that hadn't opened up to him in far too long. After an instant of resistance, Aya let himself be pulled down but held himself stiffly in his hold as he worked to catch his breath as well, forehead braced on Yohji's shoulder.

"Relax," he whispered into the red hair brushing his face, stroking a hand down the tense back.

"Your ribs?"

"I don't give a shit. I want to feel you."

With a slow shudder, Aya eased down against him until his chest lay against his side, shifting aside take some of the weight off his chest anyway. Sighing, Yohji slid one hand up Aya's back until his fingers tangled in red hair. Pressed Aya's face into the hollow of his neck and listened to his breathing come slowly to normal.

He was still inside Aya. Not hard anymore, but there. Aya's weight grew subtly heavier as his body went lax. It took only a few moments to realize he'd fallen asleep. Unlike him, Aya had had little rest since escaping Shiroi's clutches.

Yohji held Aya against him, struggling with a strange ache in his chest that had nothing to do with his injuries as morning grew steadily brighter in the shabby room, the clear light of dawn filtering into it through the leaves of the untended trees outside.

- - fin - -