Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Work Hazard ❯ Quality Time With Omi ( Chapter 1 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Miko No Hoshi 
Aya is forced to spend some quality time with Omi.
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Hentai | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 01.27.2003 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.7K | Visits: 1.5K | Status: Work In Progress
Aya is forced to spend some quality time with Omi.
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Hentai | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 01.27.2003 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.7K | Visits: 1.5K | Status: Work In Progress
Disclaimer: The pretty boys are not mine, if they were they would never wear clothes...and that just wouldn't do.
Notes: Eh, well, Yohji/Aya is my normal pairing, but Yohji-kun is sleeping off my last fic and Aya needs action!
Work Hazard : Quality Time With Omi
Aya turned the corner and continued to walk silently down the hall. His orange sweater and bright apron stood out in stark contrast to the beige walls and carpets of the office building. The delivery should not have been as complicated as it was. As little as he wanted to admit it, Aya was lost. But it wasn't his fault that all the halls looked the same! And Omi...Omi was not helping.
Following behind the redhead, almost jogging to keep up with Aya's quick place, Omi had for some inexplicable reason decided it was time for a little heart to heart. Okay, so it wasn't quite as inexplicable as it seemed. Perhaps it was the fact that they were alone for the first time in weeks, Yohji and Ken left to mind the shop. Or maybe it was the fact that Aya had no where to hide in the building, not that Aya would ever hide, mind you. Or, most likely, it was the fact that Omi had finally caught Aya this morning. Really, really caught.
For months Omi had suspected his teammate of having more than friendly attachments to himself, but, besides a few long looks, nothing had been confirmed. Until this morning. Whether by fate or just by chance of bad timing, Omi had managed to walk into Aya's room at a particularly dramatic moment. The image was burned forever into his mind: Aya half-sitting against the headboard, his pale cock in hand, biting his lip as he came, trying to keep away the name that fell from his lips. Omi.
"Aya-kun!" Omi pleaded.
"What?" Aya responded, not bothering to turn around, finally locating the door that read stairs. At least now they could get to the first floor.
"Aya-kun, just stop for a minute!" Omi said, noticing that the other had already done so. "We need to talk"
"Why?" purple eyes were on him, daring him to proceed and promising severe consequences if he did.
"Because," he caught the end of Aya's sleeve, forcing the other to extend his arm and look at him quizzically. Omi fingered the material as he spoke, "because maybe I feel the same way."
Aya snorted delicately, jerking his hand away, "doesn't matter."
"Doesn't matter?! I love you!" Omi gasped, bringing a hand up to his lips. Tears instantly began to form as he waited for a response, any response.
Aya sighed, an exasperated sound as if he's had this conversation before, perhaps with himself late at night as he listened to Omi tossing in the next room over. "It doesn't matter, not because its unimportant or because I hate you, but because," he paused, voice slipping from its frustrated baritone back into its normal monotone. "I don't fuck children."
"What?!"
Refusing to repeat himself when he had obviously been heard, Aya waited for Omi to drop the subject. The boy did not give up so easily. Stepping forward, he wrapped an arm around Aya's neck, pulling the other down into a searing kiss. As Aya opened his mouth to protest, Omi's tongue slid inside, tangling with his own in an expert fashion. Finally pulling away, Aya glared.
"Damn you," he hissed, their faces only inches apart.
"I'm not a child."
"You don't know what you're getting into."
"I know exactly what I'm getting into."
"Then prove it," Aya snapped. Slamming open the stairwell door, he motioned Omi inside with a flip of his head.
Thinking he had lost completely and this was a sign to move on, Omi stepped through the door. The stairwell was large and cool with cement block walls and a smooth concrete floor painted a dark shade of gray. The door closed with a hollow bang, and suddenly Omi found himself in Aya's grasp. His knees hit hard against the floor as he was forced into a kneeling position.
Looking up, Omi saw a hard look in Aya's eyes as the redhead leaned back against the wall. His hands left Omi's shoulders, one to rest in the blonde's hair, the other to pull aside the bottom portion of his apron and grip it at his side.
"Go on," he stated, not bothering to whisper, "prove it."
The doubt was heavy in his voice and eyes, and Omi was determined to show him just how wrong he was. The direction for going about this was obviously clear. Reaching up with hand that trembled, betraying how nervous he truly was, he undid the button on Aya's jeans. Focusing his attention on the zipper, he knew that amethyst stare was still on him. Undoing the fastenings, he pushed down the tight pants, letting them fall to the ground to reveal...everything.
Now statically, if you take four boys, there is a good chance that one of them does not wear underwear. Omi would have placed his money on Yohji, but apparently it was Aya who chose to go commando on missions. Before him lay Aya's penis, it was pale and already half hard. With a shift of his hips, Aya rubbed the soft column of flesh against Omi's cheek, breaking the prolonged stillness and pushing the boy into action.
Reaching up, Omi took hold, the back of his hand laying against the tight red curls that proved that Aya was indeed a natural red head. After a few tentative strokes, he looked up to find impatience in the other's gaze. Omi swallowed hard, his own ignorance of the act weighing heavily on his shoulders. The last thing he wanted to do was disappoint. Slowly he lowered his head, brushing his lips lightly over the tip. Aya's hand pushed insistently against his head, forcing him forward.
Only half way down, Omi stopped, finding his mouth quite full. Aya seemed willing to allow it, giving the other just a moment of reprieve. Omi couldn't think, not being so close, not with the strange taste of Aya's cock pressing against his tongue. Drawing a breath, he felt Aya twitch. It dawned on him quite belatedly that Aya was not detached from this situation, he was not some passive observer, he was going to say Omi's name again.
How Omi wanted that! He wanted to hear his name fall from those shapely lips in the midst of pleasure. With sudden fervor he took on his task. Abandoning the world and the stairwell, he heard only Aya's breathy moans as he moved in and out. Aya's hand was a guiding force, setting the rhythm and demanding he take up the beat. He did, going further each time until those red curls brushed his nose with each and every repetition.
Aya gasped and Omi redoubled his efforts. He let his hand rest on one creamy cheek of the taller boy's bottom, using the balance as leverage. The pace increased. He no longer moved alone as Aya's hips came to meet his mouth. So fast, he didn't think, couldn't think, only feel.
"Oh god," Aya bit his lip, letting his head fall back to hit the wall but not feeling the pain. "Please, uhn, please..."
His hand gripped at Omi's hair so hard that it hurt, but it was all bliss to the other. With speed born of desperation, he moved and was soon rewarded.
"Omi!" Aya cried, arching back and filling the boy's mouth with his warm essence.
Omi swallowed as much as he could, but some of the salty liquid escaped to run down his chin as Aya's organ fell from his mouth. The heavy breathing of his teammate was loud in his ears as he reached up a hand to wipe it away only to have his arm caught at the elbow. It was with little effort that Aya lifted him to his feet, keeping that grip. With his free hand he caught Omi's collar, holding his head still as he leaned in to lick his own cum from the boy's face before pressing their open lips together in a soulful kiss. Giving. Taking. Sharing for the fist time.
Parting only by inches, Aya's breath was warm against his face as he spoke, "I'm sorry."
"What?" That was not something Aya said, ever.
Aya shifted, letting his arms slip around Omi's middle and pulling the boy close to him. Omi gasp as his own ignored hardness contacted suddenly with Aya's apron-clad, well placed thigh. The redhead refused to repeat himself, instead nibbling lightly at Omi's ear before speaking further. "Let's get back home."
It dawned on Omi once again that they were indeed not at home but standing in a rather open, rather public stairway that didn't even have a lock on the door. A blush made its way onto his cheeks but when Aya kissed him he once again found that he didn't care.
Aya pushed him away a bit, bending over to retrieve his hat and hand it to him. Omi nodded in thanks, replacing the item on his head as Aya looked down to fasten his jeans. Omi realized that he badly wanted more than what he had been given, but could he truly asked for it? Already Aya had shared with him something so private, so meaningful--purple eyes were staring at him.
"Huh?"
"You're not a child."
"No, I'm not."
"You feel the same way?"
"Yes, I do."
"Do you have any idea how to get out of this place?"
"None whatsoever."
Aya nodded. Omi smiled. It seemed they would have a little more quality time together.
~tbc?~
Notes: OOC, I know, I know...but, how in character can they be if they're practicing oral sex in a stairwell?! If they were...
Aya: Here.
Omi: Oh Aya-kun its so nice!
Aya: Hn.
Omi: But what should I do now?
Aya: {glares}
Omi: {gets teary manga-girl eyes}
Aya: {glares}
Omi: {pulls out a laptop to get schematics}
Aya: Never mind, I'll do it myself.
Omi: {printing out documentation}
Aya: Mission accepted.
And that's just a whole other fic right there! {gives up on own defense} Please leave your flames below...
Notes: Eh, well, Yohji/Aya is my normal pairing, but Yohji-kun is sleeping off my last fic and Aya needs action!
Work Hazard : Quality Time With Omi
Aya turned the corner and continued to walk silently down the hall. His orange sweater and bright apron stood out in stark contrast to the beige walls and carpets of the office building. The delivery should not have been as complicated as it was. As little as he wanted to admit it, Aya was lost. But it wasn't his fault that all the halls looked the same! And Omi...Omi was not helping.
Following behind the redhead, almost jogging to keep up with Aya's quick place, Omi had for some inexplicable reason decided it was time for a little heart to heart. Okay, so it wasn't quite as inexplicable as it seemed. Perhaps it was the fact that they were alone for the first time in weeks, Yohji and Ken left to mind the shop. Or maybe it was the fact that Aya had no where to hide in the building, not that Aya would ever hide, mind you. Or, most likely, it was the fact that Omi had finally caught Aya this morning. Really, really caught.
For months Omi had suspected his teammate of having more than friendly attachments to himself, but, besides a few long looks, nothing had been confirmed. Until this morning. Whether by fate or just by chance of bad timing, Omi had managed to walk into Aya's room at a particularly dramatic moment. The image was burned forever into his mind: Aya half-sitting against the headboard, his pale cock in hand, biting his lip as he came, trying to keep away the name that fell from his lips. Omi.
"Aya-kun!" Omi pleaded.
"What?" Aya responded, not bothering to turn around, finally locating the door that read stairs. At least now they could get to the first floor.
"Aya-kun, just stop for a minute!" Omi said, noticing that the other had already done so. "We need to talk"
"Why?" purple eyes were on him, daring him to proceed and promising severe consequences if he did.
"Because," he caught the end of Aya's sleeve, forcing the other to extend his arm and look at him quizzically. Omi fingered the material as he spoke, "because maybe I feel the same way."
Aya snorted delicately, jerking his hand away, "doesn't matter."
"Doesn't matter?! I love you!" Omi gasped, bringing a hand up to his lips. Tears instantly began to form as he waited for a response, any response.
Aya sighed, an exasperated sound as if he's had this conversation before, perhaps with himself late at night as he listened to Omi tossing in the next room over. "It doesn't matter, not because its unimportant or because I hate you, but because," he paused, voice slipping from its frustrated baritone back into its normal monotone. "I don't fuck children."
"What?!"
Refusing to repeat himself when he had obviously been heard, Aya waited for Omi to drop the subject. The boy did not give up so easily. Stepping forward, he wrapped an arm around Aya's neck, pulling the other down into a searing kiss. As Aya opened his mouth to protest, Omi's tongue slid inside, tangling with his own in an expert fashion. Finally pulling away, Aya glared.
"Damn you," he hissed, their faces only inches apart.
"I'm not a child."
"You don't know what you're getting into."
"I know exactly what I'm getting into."
"Then prove it," Aya snapped. Slamming open the stairwell door, he motioned Omi inside with a flip of his head.
Thinking he had lost completely and this was a sign to move on, Omi stepped through the door. The stairwell was large and cool with cement block walls and a smooth concrete floor painted a dark shade of gray. The door closed with a hollow bang, and suddenly Omi found himself in Aya's grasp. His knees hit hard against the floor as he was forced into a kneeling position.
Looking up, Omi saw a hard look in Aya's eyes as the redhead leaned back against the wall. His hands left Omi's shoulders, one to rest in the blonde's hair, the other to pull aside the bottom portion of his apron and grip it at his side.
"Go on," he stated, not bothering to whisper, "prove it."
The doubt was heavy in his voice and eyes, and Omi was determined to show him just how wrong he was. The direction for going about this was obviously clear. Reaching up with hand that trembled, betraying how nervous he truly was, he undid the button on Aya's jeans. Focusing his attention on the zipper, he knew that amethyst stare was still on him. Undoing the fastenings, he pushed down the tight pants, letting them fall to the ground to reveal...everything.
Now statically, if you take four boys, there is a good chance that one of them does not wear underwear. Omi would have placed his money on Yohji, but apparently it was Aya who chose to go commando on missions. Before him lay Aya's penis, it was pale and already half hard. With a shift of his hips, Aya rubbed the soft column of flesh against Omi's cheek, breaking the prolonged stillness and pushing the boy into action.
Reaching up, Omi took hold, the back of his hand laying against the tight red curls that proved that Aya was indeed a natural red head. After a few tentative strokes, he looked up to find impatience in the other's gaze. Omi swallowed hard, his own ignorance of the act weighing heavily on his shoulders. The last thing he wanted to do was disappoint. Slowly he lowered his head, brushing his lips lightly over the tip. Aya's hand pushed insistently against his head, forcing him forward.
Only half way down, Omi stopped, finding his mouth quite full. Aya seemed willing to allow it, giving the other just a moment of reprieve. Omi couldn't think, not being so close, not with the strange taste of Aya's cock pressing against his tongue. Drawing a breath, he felt Aya twitch. It dawned on him quite belatedly that Aya was not detached from this situation, he was not some passive observer, he was going to say Omi's name again.
How Omi wanted that! He wanted to hear his name fall from those shapely lips in the midst of pleasure. With sudden fervor he took on his task. Abandoning the world and the stairwell, he heard only Aya's breathy moans as he moved in and out. Aya's hand was a guiding force, setting the rhythm and demanding he take up the beat. He did, going further each time until those red curls brushed his nose with each and every repetition.
Aya gasped and Omi redoubled his efforts. He let his hand rest on one creamy cheek of the taller boy's bottom, using the balance as leverage. The pace increased. He no longer moved alone as Aya's hips came to meet his mouth. So fast, he didn't think, couldn't think, only feel.
"Oh god," Aya bit his lip, letting his head fall back to hit the wall but not feeling the pain. "Please, uhn, please..."
His hand gripped at Omi's hair so hard that it hurt, but it was all bliss to the other. With speed born of desperation, he moved and was soon rewarded.
"Omi!" Aya cried, arching back and filling the boy's mouth with his warm essence.
Omi swallowed as much as he could, but some of the salty liquid escaped to run down his chin as Aya's organ fell from his mouth. The heavy breathing of his teammate was loud in his ears as he reached up a hand to wipe it away only to have his arm caught at the elbow. It was with little effort that Aya lifted him to his feet, keeping that grip. With his free hand he caught Omi's collar, holding his head still as he leaned in to lick his own cum from the boy's face before pressing their open lips together in a soulful kiss. Giving. Taking. Sharing for the fist time.
Parting only by inches, Aya's breath was warm against his face as he spoke, "I'm sorry."
"What?" That was not something Aya said, ever.
Aya shifted, letting his arms slip around Omi's middle and pulling the boy close to him. Omi gasp as his own ignored hardness contacted suddenly with Aya's apron-clad, well placed thigh. The redhead refused to repeat himself, instead nibbling lightly at Omi's ear before speaking further. "Let's get back home."
It dawned on Omi once again that they were indeed not at home but standing in a rather open, rather public stairway that didn't even have a lock on the door. A blush made its way onto his cheeks but when Aya kissed him he once again found that he didn't care.
Aya pushed him away a bit, bending over to retrieve his hat and hand it to him. Omi nodded in thanks, replacing the item on his head as Aya looked down to fasten his jeans. Omi realized that he badly wanted more than what he had been given, but could he truly asked for it? Already Aya had shared with him something so private, so meaningful--purple eyes were staring at him.
"Huh?"
"You're not a child."
"No, I'm not."
"You feel the same way?"
"Yes, I do."
"Do you have any idea how to get out of this place?"
"None whatsoever."
Aya nodded. Omi smiled. It seemed they would have a little more quality time together.
~tbc?~
Notes: OOC, I know, I know...but, how in character can they be if they're practicing oral sex in a stairwell?! If they were...
Aya: Here.
Omi: Oh Aya-kun its so nice!
Aya: Hn.
Omi: But what should I do now?
Aya: {glares}
Omi: {gets teary manga-girl eyes}
Aya: {glares}
Omi: {pulls out a laptop to get schematics}
Aya: Never mind, I'll do it myself.
Omi: {printing out documentation}
Aya: Mission accepted.
And that's just a whole other fic right there! {gives up on own defense} Please leave your flames below...