Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ You're Joking, Right? ❯ Chapter 2

Ken drove home and Omi rode shotgun, leaving Yoji to hold onto Aya in the back seat. He had the man's head in his lap and was looking down into his pale face. You could appreciate how beautiful Aya was, when he was out like a light. And Yoji was concerned; the guy was obviously hurting. Again, it helped that he was unconscious.

 

Yoji brushed Aya's hair from his face, caressing his cheek in the process. It was scraped and badly bruised. His lower lip was split, too, and had been bleeding. Yoji drew his thumb along Aya's jaw, so cleanly drawn, and noticed the collar of his leather coat had been closed all the way to his chin. He pulled the thing open, thinking it might be more comfortable that way.

 

Then he stopped dead. Aya's throat was covered by the most intense hickey Yoji had ever seen -- and Yoji had some experience with the genre. He gaped at it. An area of skin about half the size of Yoji's fist was torn open and dark purple. It stood out against the white skin of Aya's throat like a fucking neon sign.

 

He hadn't had that before the mission. Ergo, he'd gotten it during the mission. From the scarred-up freak with the eye patch who had chased him into the back of the warehouse.

 

Shit, what had happened? Aya had obviously fought the guy hard and at close range. Aya was good, but Yoji had seen how fast that guy was...

 

And what the hell had Aya been doing, putting himself out in front of that other team the way he had? Why had he turned off his com?

 

No way to answer the first question yet, but the second part was obvious. He hadn't wanted the rest of the team to hear what was happening. Which suddenly made more sense... Christ, had he been raped?. Yoji felt ill.

 

Aya was not going to want to talk about this -- and he didn't blame the guy, this time. Yoji was going to have to figure out a way to help him. Aya was a son of a bitch, but some things... He had to help him.

 

He refastened the coat.

 

 

**********

 

 

Ken helped Yoji haul Aya inside and up to his room, although he looked like he'd rather just leave him in the garage to die. Yoji put a pillow under Aya's head and turned to Ken and Omi, who had followed closely.

 

“Tell you what, guys; I'll check him out and sit with him. Just bring me the medical kit.” He sat on the side of the bed and turned back to Aya calmly, trying to act as if volunteering to do this were the most normal thing in the world.

 

“What the hell?” Ken started.

 

“We don't know how long he'll stay out, and when he wakes up I don't think he'll be in a very good mood. Frankly, I don't trust him not to hurt you, Omi; and Ken, I don't trust you not to hurt him. Which leaves me. So just bring me the kit and clear out. I'll let you know if I need any help.”

 

They actually did what he said. Might have something to do with the fact that neither of them wanted to deal with Aya any more than they wanted to walk into a tiger's cage at feeding time, but good enough. Ken was out of there so fast he almost left a vapor trail, and when Omi came back with the medical kit he practically threw it from the doorway and ran, slamming the door behind him in his haste to be somewhere else.

 

Well, that was effective, Yoji thought to himself. He turned back to Aya and just looked at him for a few moments, shaking his head. He'd seen Ken and Omi face down heavily armed, clearly demented lunatics with more composure than they'd just displayed in front of their unconscious teammate. You're a piece of work, Aya, he thought, unfastening the man's coat and removing him from it as gently as possible. Now, that came naturally; it was another area in which he had a certain amount of expertise.

 

The thought, unfortunately, led to another: Part of his brain was a little freaked out about what he was doing. It had made the connection between Aya and sex, weaving in the existing information that Aya was outrageously attractive. And that he was sitting on Aya's bed, undressing him. Now notified, the rest of his brain started freaking out too. He stared at Aya, whose skin was luminous and whose body was sleek and whose muscles were perfectly sculpted and who was just wearing a pair of black leather pants, low and tight... No underwear there, noted the part of Yoji's brain that had started this whole mess a few moments ago.

 

Hold on a minute. Aya wasn't wearing a shirt. He'd been wearing a shirt when they got to the warehouse, that S&M turtleneck thing with the leather strap and buckle around the neck. Aya's mission clothes definitely veered toward fetish gear. It was hot, but... But that wasn't the point. What was the point, again?

 

The point was that Aya appeared to have been molested by that freaky one-eyed mystery assassin.

 

Right. That helped reign in the libido.

 

Another point was that he seemed to have injuries other than the concussion, and Yoji was supposed to be tending to them. “Let's just get to it, then,” he muttered. His teammate had some impressive bruising across his ribcage; that probably wouldn't be a bad place to start. Aya grunted and shifted uncomfortably as Yoji carefully fingered each rib. Nothing felt dangerous, so Yoji wrapped an Ace bandage around him and moved on.

 

Holy shit, that was definitely a broken arm. He prodded it to see if he could tell how bad it was...

 

...causing Aya to wake up. Growling viciously.

 

Yoji pulled away instinctively. “Sorry. Your arm is broken... I was just trying to see if the bones are still aligned or if there seem to be any fragments or anything.”

 

Aya stared at him for several moments, breathing heavily. Finally, he said, “Well?”

 

“Well what?”

 

“Are they still aligned or are there fragments or anything?”

 

“Seems clean, best I can tell, but you're going to have to go to the hospital.”

 

“Just splint it. I'll go in the morning.”

 

Yoji nodded, deciding it wasn't worth trying to talk him into anything else. “You've got some broken ribs, maybe just bruised, but they're low. Going to hurt like a son of a bitch,” he said as he put on the air splint.

 

Aya started to nod, then stopped abruptly, wincing. He cursed under his breath as Yoji blew up the splint.

 

Yoji looked up into Aya's eyes, squinting to see better. “And you definitely have a concussion -- your eyes are glazed, and you seem a little out of it.”

 

Aya sighed. “I knew about the concussion.”

 

“Got anything else for me, then?”

 

“No. You can go.”

 

“I don't think so. We're going to talk. And I'm going to clean out that bite on your neck.” He paused, waiting for Aya to react -- nothing. “I'll cover it up with a bandage and lie to Ken and Omi about it if you tell me what happened.” He didn't think Aya would appreciate any hand-holding.

 

Aya looked at him, appraising the situation. The expression didn't look as dangerous as it usually did, since moving his head obviously made him nauseated unto vomiting.

 

“Look, I know you don't want to talk about it, and I understand. But in case you forgot, you completely wigged out on us tonight. You probably caused us to lose the target. And you got injuries that are going to keep you off active duty for at least a month. Not wanting to talk about it isn't an option, Aya.”

 

Aya stared somewhere over Yoji's left shoulder for a moment, then closed his eyes. He looked miserable.

 

Well, the guy did have a head injury. Maybe some hand-holding would be in order, after all.

 

“Look, Aya,” he said softly. “I saw that thing on your neck while we were in the car. Ken and Omi don't know about it, and I won't tell them. But you have to tell me what happened.”

 

“You don't want to know,” he whispered, eyes still closed.

 

“I'd already figured that out. Tell me anyway.”

 

“You saw ... the other assassin. Who ran after me.”

 

“Yes. And while we're discussing that, why the hell did you jump out in front of them like that?”

 

“I ... knew who they were. From ... before. From my last team.”

 

Ah, yes -- Weiss wasn't his first Kritiker team. Yoji had known that. Aya was so charming -- they must have been heartbroken to see him go.

 

“OK. And instead of staying in position and alerting us over your com, you jumped out in their faces. I don't think you're the type to run away, so I'm assuming you were drawing that guy off. How come?”

 

“They already knew we were there. And I had some ... business with him. Farfarello.” Aya almost whispered it. “His name is Farfarello.”

 

“Aya, I'm being very patient here, but this is going to take a hell of a long time if you keep just giving me these little half-answers that throw out about 20 more questions.”

 

Aya looked at him dully. “The team is called Schwartz. The have a telepath, so we weren't going to be surprising them. I knew they were back in Tokyo, so I was expecting to run into them.”

 

“And you never mentioned this why?”

 

“It wasn't exactly treason -- Kritiker knows about Schwartz. And I ... it's ... personal.”

 

“Not anymore.”

 

Sighing, Aya looked him straight in the eye. “Yoji, I know you don't think I care much about Weiss. And you're right. I'm here for my own reasons.” He took a deep breath, grimaced, then went on doggedly. “Our mission plan was blown to hell when they showed up, I had business with Farfarello, and I figured you guys should be able to take care of yourselves. It didn't make any difference that I wasn't there -- I would have been fighting one of them anyway. I just did it in another part of the warehouse. And I didn't have time to explain it to you.”

 

“Wow. I can't tell you how close to you I'm feeling right now. Why didn't you tell us about them before, if you knew we'd be meeting up with them?”

 

Aya stared off across the room again, then let his eyes shift back to Yoji's. “It's not something we could have made an effective plan for. And...” he let out a loud breath. “I just didn't want to talk about it.”

 

Yoji paused to take it in. Aya was even less of a team player than he'd seemed to be, which was saying something.

 

“So you know what's his name -- Farfarello? What the hell kind of name is that? Anyway, you know him from before, and you had business with him. What kind of business?”

 

Aya set his jaw in the classic “We're not talking about this” pose.

 

“Well, he sure kicked your ass. Was that part of the agenda?”

 

“I've beaten him a couple of times,” he finally answered. His tone was something Yoji had never heard from Aya, something he had a hard time connecting with their brittle, hard-assed Abyssinian. He sounded a little -- breathless. Kind of dreamy.

 

“So you ran off to fight him. Did you want to get him alone so you could, you know, extract your revenge?”

 

Aya stared at Yoji as if he were incredibly stupid. That's better, Yoji thought; now we're back on familiar ground.

 

“Something like that,” Aya said vaguely.

 

“Aya -- what he did to you tonight -- has he done anything like that to you before?”

 

Aya looked shocked for a second, and he blushed. Then he seemed to catch himself. “What, kick my ass?” he finally said, with a kind of, well, flirty smile.

 

Shit, what a bizarre night this had been.

 

“Actually, I'm referring to the events leading to you having the bite on your neck and no shirt on.” God damn, but Aya had a pretty smile.

 

Which fell away instantly. Aya stared at him as if he'd forgotten how to speak.

 

“Well?”

 

“Yes,” Aya whispered.

 

“He raped you,” Yoji said gently.

 

Now, that was an interesting expression -- indignant, with a soupcon of petulance and hauteur.

 

“What? No.” Aya's voice sounded strained.

 

“He got close enough to you to give you that hickey and take off your shirt, and you fought him hard enough to get a broken arm, bruised ribs and a head injury. The evidence is pretty convincing.”

 

“He fucked me. This is what we do. It wasn't rape.”

 

OK, now this was ... Denial? No, Yoji decided. Aya was finally telling the truth.

 

“Are you saying... this guy is your, what, boyfriend? You fight almost to the death as, like, foreplay?”

 

Aya looked a little less fierce now. Deflated. Tired and hurting. “Something like that.” He looked down. “I told you you didn't want to know,” he said quietly.

 

They were both silent as Aya thought whatever the hell Aya might be thinking and Yoji tried to process what he now knew about his teammate. He found himself surprisingly able to go there.

 

“Is that why you've been so edgy lately?” he finally asked. “You've been ... missing the guy? Needing to get laid?”

 

“That's none of your business,” Aya said quietly. He did have the grace to look embarrassed, at least.

 

Yoji nodded. “I'll take that as a yes.”

 

“Look, Yoji, I'm not here to be anybody's friend.”

 

“Yeah, we'd noticed that. Why *are* you here, Aya?”

 

The relatively open look on his face froze over.

 

“All right -- we'll table that one. But Aya, you are here, and we'd all do a better job if you'd just lighten up and stop being such a dick.”

 

Aya snorted, looking slightly amused. Yoji decided that he actually liked him.

 

“So, this thing you have with the one-eyed psycho...”

 

“Farfarello,” Aya said, annoyed.

 

“Right; whatever. Anyway, you realize this can't continue, right? Surely I don't have to start listing off reasons why you can't keep doing this?”

 

Miserable again. Yes, he apparently realized there were problems.

 

“Aya,” Yoji said. “Would this guy -- Farfarello -- would he actually kill you?”

 

Aya looked at him as if he thought it were a trick question. “Yes, under the right circumstances,” he finally answered, in a tone that said, “Of course he would, you moron.”

 

Yoji sucked in a deep breath. “So that's part of the attraction.”

 

Aya didn't respond. Well, it hadn't really been a question.

 

“Would you kill him?”

 

Aya considered this. “Probably, if it came to that. If I could. I don't know.”

 

“Doesn't that give him kind of an advantage?”

 

“He's had opportunities to kill me before, and he hasn't. Besides, I could be taken out any time I go out on a mission -- and Farfarello is a worthy opponent. I'd rather it be him than the idiots we usually deal with.” He made a tsking noise. “It isn't something I worry about.”

 

Well, that would explain a certain amount of his behavior, wouldn't it.

 

Yoji tried again. “You can't keep hiding this from Kritiker..”

 

Aya humpfed disdainfully. “Kritiker knows.”

 

Fuck me, Yoji thought.

 

“All right, maybe they're willing to let you play B&D with the enemy. But I know they're not going to allow you to keep fucking up like this.”

 

No cutting rebuttals there.

 

“And I realize you think Ken, Omi and I can't tell our respective asses from a hole in the ground, but we're not going to let you fuck us over.”

 

Yoji thought he caught a flicker of respect in Aya's eyes at that. Could have been wishful thinking, though. Or maybe Aya was just ignoring him now and thinking about something else entirely. He'd often had that feeling when he'd tried to talk to Aya.

 

“So, what are you going to do?” Aya asked. His voice sounded strained from pain but calm otherwise.

 

What *was* he going to do? Wait for Kritiker's reaction to the mission report? Despite Aya's bravado and whatever the deal he had with their mysterious sponsor, Yoji was still fairly sure they wouldn't let Aya just get away with what had happened tonight, and their problem-solving style tended to be brutal. Yoji was going to have to talk Omi into lying in that report -- which meant he was going to have to convince Omi that he had the situation under control.

 

Maybe he could just discuss it reasonably with Ken and Omi? First of all, fat chance, and second, he'd promised Aya to leave them in the dark if the guy would talk -- and he'd sure as hell talked. Yoji had never had such an interesting conversation.

 

So it was all down to him.

 

He had decided he had to help Aya, who didn't care about being part of the team, wasn't afraid of Kritiker, wasn't afraid to die. He did appear to be at least somewhat concerned about humiliation, but Yoji doubted that would get him very far; and besides, he'd already played that card. He couldn't expose Aya to the rest of the team now -- Yoji was an honorable man. In his way.

 

It was a contest of wills.

 

Domination.

 

That just might work.

 

Yoji looked Aya over. He was a beautiful man, stubborn and spirited and treacherous. And, it appeared, in need of a strong hand. It was an enticing thought, actually. Aya wanted to be forced to submit. Yoji smiled dangerously.

 

“I'm going to take his place.”

 

Aya looked as if he'd been hit in the face with a dead fish. It would have been quite satisfying if it weren't so insulting. Take that, Fujimiya, Yoji thought; I'm complicated, too.

 

“You're joking, right?” Aya finally said.

 

Well, he hadn't expected immediate buy-in.

 

“What, do you love him?”

 

It took Aya a long time to answer. Yoji was almost surprised that he answered at all, actually; it must mean he'd at least sparked some curiosity.

 

“No.”

 

All right. That might have been a deal-breaker.

 

“And you don't have a, you know, relationship, I assume. Doesn't sound like you're on his speed dial.”

 

Aya frowned.

 

“What I'm asking, Aya, is if you ever see each other aside from fucking during a mission.”

 

“Sometimes,” he muttered.

 

“Hhmmm. Do you ever do anything that involves talking?”

 

Curiosity was beginning to veer toward intense annoyance. “No.”

 

“OK, then; problem solved. It would not be a hardship for me to fuck you, and I've certainly had quite a few fantasies about beating the crap out of you.” He smirked. “I can give you what you need, baby.”

 

Aya's face was completely blank, but something powerful churned in those glittering eyes. It reminded Yoji of years ago when he'd seen a Komodo Dragon at the zoo -- a big, powerful predator coldly assessing his potential as prey. Yoji was pretty sure the disheveled redhead still wasn't in any shape to spring forward and kill him barehanded, but he tensed and prepared to defend himself anyway. If you laid all the men who'd underestimated Aya end to end, you'd have a line of corpses that would stretch across Tokyo. Of course, why you'd want to stretch a line of corpses across Tokyo was unclear... Well, it might have some deterrent factor...

 

“What makes you think I'd let you take me?”

 

Yoji cocked one eyebrow.

 

They stared into each other's eyes, Aya clearly searching for weakness. Finally, Aya smiled. It was a scary, seductive, “abandon every hope ye who enter here” kind of smile.

 

“All right,” Aya said. “You can show me what you've got.”

 

He hadn't given in yet, though.

 

Yoji could fix that.