Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ You're Joking, Right? ❯ Chapter 9

Aya was on the verge of a complete breakdown -- you didn't need to be an assassin or a PI to see that. His desperately maintained facade was cracking apart before Yoji's eyes, threatening to explode into a million pieces. The shrapnel wounds were going to hurt like a bitch, but Yoji didn't really care.

 

“Shut up and fuck me, Kudoh. Just... fuck me.” Brave words, but the voice that delivered them was shaky and almost inaudible.

 

And, God, Yoji wanted to help him. He tugged on Aya's arm, feeling solid resistance melt disturbingly into compliance -- Aya had stood there, unmovable, and then he'd just fallen right into Yoji's arms, as if someone had flipped a switch. Like it was some fucking romance novel.

He was trembling, for Christ's sake, face wet with tears he didn't seem to know he'd shed.

 

Sex wasn't what Aya needed right now. But whatever he did need -- psychotropic drugs, exorcism, a bullet to the brain? -- wasn't what Yoji could give him. Sex was what Yoji could do, and, well, if all you have is a hammer, every problem starts to look like a nail.

 

Aya had driven him almost as crazy as he was.

 

“I'll take care of you, baby,” Yoji whispered.

 

Aya looked up, startled. He reminded Yoji of a wild horse, spooked, ready to run.

 

“What, are you actually going to argue that you don't need anybody to take care of you?” Yoji spoke softly, petting the back of Aya's head soothingly. He kept a tight hold on Aya's back all the while.

 

Surreal as the situation was, Yoji thought Aya actually looked more real now that he'd ever seen him. On a mission, Aya looked like a character in a movie. In the flower shop, he looked like a sculpture that had been magically animated, although not exactly come to life. But now, Aya's wide, staring eyes were bloodshot, the skin around them red and irritated. His nose was running, and he occasionally wiped it on his arm, the motion automatic and impatient.

 

“I don't need... God damn it, Kudoh, just get on with it.”

 

Yoji snaked a hand between them and cupped Aya's balls, squeezing gently. Yoji was almost ready to unload in his pants, but Aya wasn't even remotely hard. That should be a signal to stop, Yoji thought dimly, not a further enticement.

 

“OK, baby,” Yoji said, walking them over to the bed. He sat down, pulling Aya down with him, rolling them over so he was on top. Aya's hard, tight body felt so good beneath him. “You need to surrender, right?”

 

Yoji waited a long time for an answer. “You have to make me,” Aya finally whispered.

 

“Oh, I knew that,” Yoji said, groaning quietly. “I can make you. I'll hurt you, too. More than he does, maybe. But I'll do it my way.” That Aya would also hurt him was understood.

 

Yoji shifted to the side, putting most of his weight on the bed. He allowed himself a few moments to leisurely stroke Aya's stomach, feeling the hard, tightly bunched muscles with the tips of his fingers. Then he unfastened Aya's pants, almost as an afterthought. He reached in and felt for Aya's dick; it was still soft and slack, but slightly less disinterested than before. Probably the only soft thing about him, Yoji mused, pressing down on it with his thumb and rolling it back and forth. Aya was biting his lip.

 

“Strip,” Yoji commanded, and Aya obeyed after only a moment's hesitation, wiggling out of his pants quickly and efficiently.

 

“You have a beautiful body,” Yoji breathed reverently. “Even with the bruises and everything.”

 

“You like the bruises and... everything.” No question about it.

 

“Yeah. Everything.” Yoji wrapped his fingers around Aya's limp dick and started jerking it in tight little motions, feeling it start to swell immediately.

 

“I've gotten to be a little obsessed with you, Aya.”

 

“Just a little?”

 

“Mmmmm. My daddy always told me I was too attracted to dangerous things.” He chuckled mirthlessly. “At least, I always imagined he would have.” Yoji rolled over onto his back, pulling Aya on top of him. He was God-damned heavy, so Yoji shifted him over a little, putting a thigh between his legs. “You have an incredible mouth,” he murmured, kissing Aya as he ran his hands over his back and ass. “I'm surprised you kiss, actually.” He pushed his thigh up and felt Aya's hips flex against him -- still not completely hard. “Guys like you don't usually like to.”

 

“What kind of guy am I?”

 

Now, Yoji had to smile at that one. “I meant rough trade, but now that you mention it, that is an excellent question. I'd turn it right back around on you, but I don't imagine you know.” He felt Aya draw in a breath to answer, so he started kissing him again. Aya gave in without a struggle.

 

As the kiss stretched out, Aya got less passive. He slipped his tongue into Yoji's mouth, then bit his lower lip hard enough to hurt. He was starting to rock against Yoji's thigh, his erection now a definite presence, and he moaned quietly, a deep rumble that thrilled Yoji more than he would have expected.

 

Part of Yoji's brain usually remained lucid in situations like this, and it was warning him now that something was wrong. This wasn't how Aya should be acting. Neither of the Ayas he knew should be reacting like this, he corrected himself, not the aloof hard-ass or the fire-breathing psycho. Just because Yoji still had a few brain cells to rub together didn't mean his dick wasn't firmly in charge, though. It was one danger signal among many, and he'd file it away and probably think about it later, not that it would do any good. But right now... Aya had an eerie ability to figure out exactly what Yoji wanted.

 

Yoji shoved Aya onto his side and grabbed a handful of hair, jerking his head back and eliciting a gratifying reaction. Ah, right -- there he was. Yoji bit at the skin stretched over Aya's breastbone and rocked his hips violently against Aya's. Aya pressed up against him, eager. Holding Aya's head in place, Yoji licked along his jaw line and whispered into his ear. “What does he do to you?”

 

“He fucks me,” Aya growled. “Are you going to...”

 

“The thing is, I want to fuck you, not some figment of my imagination.”

 

Aya looked livid. “Why the hell would you care? You want me. Here I am. Just shut and do me before I kick your ass.”

 

Yoji smiled. “What, are you telling me you don't like to play? I saw you that night at the warehouse -- I know you like to play.”

 

“Not... like this.”

 

“Oh, I think you're a whole lot more versatile than you let on. I think there's a lot of things you want. In fact, you never get as much as you want, do you?” Aya stared, holding himself completely still -- almost. His hands were shaking, a fine tremor, but Yoji noticed. “I know, baby,” Yoji said gently, yanking on Aya's hair some more, just to remind him. “Let's just pretend, OK?”

 

“You don't know when to shut up, Kudoh.”

 

“All depends on what I'm trying to achieve, doesn't it?”

 

Aya watched him quietly, still aroused by the hint of violence but also starting to look lucid and wary, like a coiled cobra. “What do you want then?” he finally asked.

 

“Play with me, baby. See how close I can get you. Pretend I'm him, if you want to.” Yoji never got as much as he wanted, either. “It's OK, Aya,” he added softly. “Nobody ever needs to know.”

 

Aya gave him a sad, haunted look.

 

“Really. It's just tonight. Let's see what we can do.”

 

Aya closed his eyes and finally nodded. He looked thin and tired. And young -- much younger than Yoji had realized, actually. Christ, was he even 18 years old? Well, Yoji was prepared to relax that rule, if need be.

 

He lay over Aya and kissed his lips gently. “It's all right, baby.”

 

“What the fuck? Just pretend it's all right? How can...”

 

Yoji rolled his eyes. “Easy, sugar. Because I want to.” Aya started to protest, but Yoji stopped him, putting two fingers over his lips, leaving them there. Those lips were something else. “Christ, Aya, you're such a drama queen.”

 

“You're the one who wanted to talk. You could still just fuck.”

 

“Can't I do both?”

 

“Apparently not.”

 

Yoji couldn't help it -- he laughed out loud. Aya obviously wasn't someone who liked to laugh in bed, but shit, that was funny.

 

“God damn it, Yoji, would you just please shut up and fuck me?” Aya's voice sounded strained.

 

“Sshhh. It's OK, it really is,” Yoji whispered as he kissed Aya's face. “I'll take care of you. You can trust me, you know? I'll make it better.”

 

“You can't...”

 

“I can tonight. You got a better offer?”

 

Aya stared. “No.”

 

**********

 

God damn Brad Crawford. This was the worst thing he'd ever made him do.

 

No way could Aya pretend that Yoji was Farfarello, even though that would have made it easier. Yoji reminded him of Brad. Back when he'd been Brad, not the monomaniacal Mr. Crawford. Or rather, back when he'd thought Brad cared about something besides his plan.

 

“You got a better offer?”

 

“No,” Aya finally whispered. He didn't have anything. He was going to have to let Yoji tear him apart. It didn't really matter anyway -- all he had to do was survive to kill the right people at the right time.

 

Yoji yanked his hair again, hard, and bit his neck right over the wound Farfarello had left. The scar tissue was still tender, and it hurt. Aya was absurdly grateful. He heard himself moan.

 

“Come out and play with me, Aya.”

 

Oh, that was good... If he'd just keep going with that... Yoji jerked his head back and bit him viciously. “Oh, God, yes, just like that...” Aya was surprised to hear his own voice.

 

“I was just trying to get your attention,” Yoji murmured, licking Aya's neck. “Stay with me, baby. I've been dying to find out how flexible you really are.”

 

Aya tried to figure out how he'd lost control of this situation, but quickly switched to a more useful train of thought: figuring out how he could get it back.

 

“You can top, if you want,” Yoji offered.

 

“You want my dick, Yoji?” Aya knew he had a sexy voice, and now he was putting everything he had into it.

 

“Yeah. Your dick. Your ass. All of it. Tell me how you like it.”

 

“I want you to fuck me. This isn't the first time I've said it.”

 

“I heard you saying it. I just wasn't sure why. `Cause if you figured that's all I wanted, you're wrong. I like it all.”

 

“I...” Aya forced his mind not to wander off with that last statement. “That's how I like it.”

 

“On your stomach, then. Right? No sweet nothings and eye contact for you.”

 

“Yoji, you talk too God-damned much. Could you shut the hell up and get on with it?”

 

“OK. Stomach? Back?” Yoji grinned slowly. “Hands and knees?” His voice dropped half a pitch. “Oh, yeah. I want to do you like that.”

 

This, he could do. Aya pushed away from Yoji and got onto his hands and knees, waiting. He felt the bed shift as Yoji sat up, heard quiet rustlings and scrapes as Yoji moved around, took his pants off -- he was taking his time about it, whatever the hell he was doing, but Aya didn't give a damn because at least he'd finally shut the fuck up.

 

Aya wasn't hard and he knew Yoji would care, so he closed his eyes and tried to dredge up something safe to think about. Not Farfarello -- he didn't want Farfarello to have anything to do with this. Sure as hell not Crawford, no matter what Yoji had suggested. It shouldn't matter, he had plenty of scenes to draw on that didn't involve either one of them. He squeezed his eyes shut, frustrated. God damn it, he was usually good at this, but Yoji had destroyed his concentration. No matter how much distance Aya tried to put between them, the son of a bitch refused to be ignored.

 

Well, he was just going to have to work with it. Aya tried to think about the scene objectively. He was naked, on his hands and knees, waiting to be taken by a man he hadn't chosen and didn't want. He was doing it for Crawford, because Crawford had told him to. Laid out like that, the scenario was actually pretty hot. He felt his cock starting to stir and thought about how exposed he was, ass spread out practically in Yoji's face, cock and balls hanging there, the progress of his erection on full display... He could feel Yoji behind him, motionless now, watching. His breath sounded a little harsh, so he was into it... Yeah. Aya felt himself relax just enough, felt the heaviness building in his balls, felt the pulsing heat in his dick.

 

He risked a look over his shoulder. Yoji kneeled behind him, gaze roving hungrily over his body. When their eyes met, Aya felt a spark of recognition and an answering flare of excitement. Yoji was a predator, too.

 

**********

 

Aya was going to be the death of him, Yoji knew it. Probably literally, given their situations; but as he watched this beautiful, half-feral beast get into position, offering himself life a sacrifice -- it set his blood boiling. He just watched as Aya got up onto his hands and knees, hard, perfectly cut muscles shifting under luminous, scarred, white skin. He watched as Aya waited, motionless except for the gradual hardening of his cock. Yoji finally reached out to touch Aya's ass, to run his hand over the small of Aya's back. He knew he was out of his fucking mind for doing this; his cock twitched at the thought.

 

Yoji moved closer so he could rub his erection against Aya's ass and thigh as he continued touching him, slipping the hand on Aya's back around his waist, over the sharp jut of his hipbone, and down to cup his balls. His other hand continued exploring Aya's ass, fingers gently, insistently circling his entrance. Aya started mumbling, his voice too low and deep for Yoji to pick up any of the words. He got the message anyway as Aya started bucking his hips back, trying to get more of Yoji's fingers.

 

“We've got all night, baby,” Yoji murmured. “I'm enjoying the show too much to rush through any of it.”

 

“Cock-sucking mother fucker,” Aya muttered.

 

“Not as good as you, maybe,” Yoji said, grinning. He leaned forward and bit Aya's ass cheek, just hard enough to leave a light red mark. Aya obviously liked that, so he did it again, harder. He shifted the redhead's position to tilt his hips up more, then slid his face down and started biting and sucking at the puckered skin around his anus. He brought his index finger up to his mouth and alternately sucked at it, too, getting it wet with spit before finally slipping it inside.

 

Aya groaned. “God, Yoji, give me more than that,” he said, voice strained like Yoji had never heard it.

 

Yoji sucked on his middle finger, then slipped it in. He started thrusting his fingers in and out. His range of motion was restricted at first because Aya was so tight, but he relaxed quickly, allowing Yoji in deeper. Yoji spit on the tip of his thumb and started working that in too, moving it in gentle circles that opened Aya up further.

 

“Fucking hell, Yoji, stop playing with me and give me your dick,” Aya growled.

 

Yoji pulled his face away from what he was doing, dragging his mouth wetly across Aya's flesh and finally resting his face against Aya's hip. “But I really like playing with you, Aya.”

 

“You'll like fucking me a lot better. I can't hold out much longer, Yoji. Do it now.”

 

Yoji groaned and did as he was told. He pushed in, meeting no resistance at all, and Aya pushed back to take him even deeper. Yoji had to wait for a minute, breathing deeply, blanking his mind to keep himself from coming immediately. Much as he liked to think of himself as sex incarnate, he'd been exercising a lot of control this evening, and he had limits. Apparently understanding, Aya waited, although Yoji could feel the stain in his muscles, the trembling in his arms and shoulders. “Oh, shit,” Yoji said, voice like gravel. “You are one hell of a ride, baby.”

 

“You haven't seen anything yet.”

 

Fuck, yes. Yoji started thrusting as hard and fast as he could, one hand on Aya's hip and the other slipping through the sweat pooled on his belly to grab his erection, jerking it hard and fast, figuring that's how Aya would like it. It spasmed almost immediately, rope after thick rope of come spurting out on the sheets, running down Yoji's hand. Yoji pulled most of the way out, smeared Aya's semen all over himself, then rammed in as hard as he could. He got three more thrusts before his vision whited out and he came hard, gasping for breath, screaming, probably some nonsense about passion and beauty. Or maybe just cursing. Didn't really make any difference.

 

He came to his senses draped over Aya, who'd collapsed onto his stomach. Aya wasn't trying to get him to move, but Yoji rolled over to his side anyway, just to be polite. Aya turned his head, looking at Yoji lazily.

 

God, he'd never seen anyone look so thoroughly fucked.

 

Aya ran a languid hand down Yoji's stomach to his now-spent cock. “You didn't use a condom,” he noted, looking vaguely surprised.

 

“Didn't want to,” Yoji murmured.

 

“Idiot,” Aya said, closing his eyes and not looking like he cared much either way.

 

“Probably,” Yoji whispered, pulling Aya into his arms and kissing him. Aya kissed back -- Yoji'd kind of been expecting him to resist, now that he'd gotten what he wanted, but Aya seemed fine with it. More than fine, actually. God, he drove Yoji insane -- how he'd love to know what the hell was going on inside that mysterious head.

 

“You've got a big dick,” Aya murmured against Yoji's lips. “You're good with it, too. I want you again.”

 

Yoji groaned to himself; he was in so much trouble. To Aya, he said teasingly, “What, already?”

 

“Yeah. Just give me a few minutes,” Aya said, deepening the kiss, rolling partially over onto Yoji.

 

Yoji's heart hammered in his chest. He was in control of this, physically -- Aya had made it perfectly clear -- but that didn't mean much. Aya had the real power. Yoji felt like he was adrift at sea, and there were scary monsters slipping like shadows through the dark, murky undercurrents.

 

“You're not paying attention,” Aya whispered. He licked softly at Yoji's lips, then more insistently. One hand ran up and down Yoji's back, scratching a little, and the other hand ran over his chest and stomach muscles, long, thin fingers pressing against his most sensitive spots. “Pay attention to me.” Aya got closer, crawling partially on top of Yoji, and slid his mouth over to Yoji's ear, which he licked and sucked at as he spoke. “Tell me you love me. I want you to love me.” He sucked briefly on Yoji's neck, just below his jaw, then moved over to his throat, resting his lips over Yoji's frantically thundering pulse. “Do you love me?” Yoji caught himself actually opening his mouth to say it, but he stopped himself. Aya kissed his lips, whispered into his mouth. “Just pretend, baby. Remember? Say it.”

 

Just what Yoji needed, yet another Aya personality that got him totally hot. Yoji sighed gently, parted his lips a little more so Aya could more thoroughly lick the inside of his mouth. Then Aya finally pulled back a bit, just rubbing his lips against Yoji's, waiting. Ah, what the hell, Yoji thought. This was all his fault anyway. “I love you,” he said, words slightly muffled by Aya's mouth. He saw Aya's eyes squeeze shut, felt him go completely still. “Say it again,” Aya said, so quietly Yoji almost couldn't hear the words. This time he didn't hesitate. “I love you, baby.” One tear slid slowly down Aya's perfect face. “I love you too,” he whispered.

 

Aya lay there for at least five minutes, holding Yoji tight and thinking, apparently. God knew what. Feeling that Yoji was starting to get hard, Aya pushed against his hips, slipping a thigh between Yoji's legs. “Make me come again,” Aya said. “Fuck me hard. Like I belong to you.”

 

“You have to look at me.”

 

“Whatever you want.” Aya slipped off Yoji and lay on his back. He gave Yoji a moment to take it in, then spread his legs.

 

“You're not hard.”

 

“I will be. Don't worry about it, just fuck me.”

 

“Aya, I want you to...”

 

“This is how I want it.” He was looking into Yoji's eyes, and his expression was fierce.

 

Yoji nodded. He kneeled between Aya's legs and pulled them up over his shoulders, grabbed his own dick and pushed it in, no foreplay, no fanfare. He started thrusting, then leaned forward carefully, letting Aya adjust to the stretch. He kissed him hard, keeping control of it, and soon Aya's erection was rubbing against his stomach and Aya was moaning into his mouth. God, he was on fire again. He slipped into that perfect groove and lost track of time, not thinking about anything, just feeling Aya's sweat and muscle and heat. It went on for so long it was like they were both in a trance. But finally, he felt his orgasm building and building until it exploded, just as powerful as the last time. He fell forward and let Aya take all his weight again, leaning into his legs for support until he could catch his breath.

 

Aya was moaning. “God, just a little more... Make me come... just give me a little more, b..” He clamped his teeth down over the last word, shaking his head. He looked dazed, completely out of it.

 

Yoji's own haze cleared slightly, and he pulled out, shifting around and sliding his face down Aya's sweat-slick thigh, sucking Aya's throbbing, purple cock into his mouth. He squeezed Aya's balls and pulled them back, then sucked hard, tonguing the head and scraping it with his teeth. Aya came with a strangled scream and Yoji pulled back, watching. Then he moved back up Aya's body and lay down beside him, holding him, listening to his breathing as it slowed and calmed.

 

“That was... Holy shit.” But now Yoji couldn't stop picturing Aya with one-eyed freaky guy. Feeling a little possessive, probably; couldn't be helped. “What about your boyfriend, Aya?”

 

“What about him?”

 

Yoji stared. “Isn't this, you know, kind of a problem? For a boyfriend?”

 

“This doesn't have anything to do with Farfarello,” Aya said. Yoji suspected he'd look angry now, if he weren't so wiped out, but who knew, really.

 

“How can this not have anything to do with him? You're betraying him, aren't you?”

 

“No.” Aya was silent for several minutes. “What about you?” he finally asked.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“What are you betraying?”

 

Yoji smiled blandly. “Nothing. Nothing left to betray, baby. Can't hurt me that way.”

 

“Liar.”

 

“Don't worry about me, Aya. I can keep up with you. I have hidden depths.”

 

Aya closed his eyes and lay back against Yoji's shoulder. “We'll see,” he murmured, already half asleep.

 

We sure as hell will, baby, Yoji thought, kissing his forehead.