Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Youji's Daughter ❯ five ( Chapter 5 )

Youji's Daughter 5

by Nix Winter

Disclaimer: I don't own WK.

Note: If you like, you can visit my website at www.darkfedora.com

Youji had slept most of the way to the safe house in the country. They'd gone in an ambulance, he and Aya. Ken had gone for Omi and Manx hadn't been seen since she'd closed the door to the ambulance.

Sitting next to Youji, as he slept even more, Aya couldn't get the memory of Youji struggling with pain and fever. Pale and shaking, sweat making his skin shiny, green eyes clouded, and Aya had held his hand then, feeling ever more like Ran than Aya.

Vulnerable, like his heart was being slowly boiled by worry, he forgot the apathy that had been slowly separating him from life. Aya-chan was so far from him. He loved her, but he couldn't be near her for fear of what his life could do to hers.

Youji was different Ran thought. Youji wasn't going to get hurt by being loved by Ran, at least that's what he'd made his mind up to believe. Youji wasn't like anyone he'd ever imagined being in love with. He'd imagined a petite woman with dark brown hair and dark eyes, gentle hands, and a gentle smile. He'd imagined himself coming home at night and lifting a little child from the floor, smiling contentedly.

He'd never imagined himself being a killer either, never imagined being gay, never imagined himself sitting next to the bed of a professional kill who looked so fragile. Youji was so powerful when he'd been the one doing

Youji lay under a thin sheet, blond hair pooling on the pillow behind his head, his perfect lean body miss shaped at his waist. Under the sheet, Aya knew purple bruising wrapped around Youji's middle, dark angry skin held together by fancy butterfly tape. He'd pulled the sheet back and looked, just stood there and let his eyes wander over the violation of Youji's body. He'd expected rage.

What he got was grief, grief so painful that he thought he could feel his heart ripping itself apart. Youji was supposed to meet him at the club, they were supposed to dance, they were supposed to have sex.

God Youji was good at sex. Ran leaned forward, resting his face against the side of Youji's bed. His virginity had been lost on a hot August afternoon in a hotel room in Seattle in the USA. Nervous had been an understatement, and yet every time Youji moved across the room, laughed at something on the American tv channel, every time the blond breathed, passion Aya hadn't known existed flashed like fire works in his blood.

That day seemed so sweet in his memory now and he could see so clearly, Youji leaning back over the over stuffed chair, green eyes twinkling lips parted, inviting. Aya had never felt the organ of his manhood hurt, ache.

That had been the first touch, when Youji had leaned his head back. Aya had reached out, fingers touching a smooth cheek before he'd known it. Touching Youji's skin had sent electric through him, making his fingers tremble. They hadn't said a word to each other in hours.

Then Youji had spoken, voice low and so very male, slightly rumbly, like his breathe didn't quite make it all the way out, "I want to make love to you?"

He shouldn't have wanted that either. He shouldn't have bent forward to touch is lips to Youji's. It shouldn't have happened, Youji's tongue sliding into his mouth, sweet and strong, filling life back into Aya's soul. It had happened though, and Aya wanted it to happen again with all his soul. The thousands of kisses he'd shared with Youji since that day were not enough.

"Baby?" Youji's voice filtered into Aya's thoughts, sounding so present, so real. "Aya, honey?"

Aya's eyes blinked open, sleep splashing away from him. "Youji?"

Youji had rolled so that he faced Aya, a pillow bunched under his shoulder to lift his bruised side up off the bed. "You expected someone else?" he teased, lamely, "Or do you always fall asleep in the beds of beautiful guys?"

Aya lifted his head, smiled, smiled bigger as green eyes locked with his. Even before they'd become lovers, Aya had been able to read Youji. When the others had seen a light hearted playboy, Aya had seen a soul shaking under grief and the debt to the past. Aya's fingers trembled as they reached to touch Youji's cheek, to brush over the eyelashes for eyes that were no longer swollen shut. Aya leaned a little closer, not sure what he was looking for, but loving the tiny lines formed around Youji's eyes when he smiled. "I missed your eyes."

"Are you still sedated," Youji teased, fingers touching Aya's hair, thumb running down the side of Aya's face. "Cuz if you are, that's okay with me."

Aya's kiss was soft, slender, pale lips brushing almost shyly against Youji's. Youji grunted as he moved forward, tweaking his side. The sounds of pain weren't anything new and Aya, especially coming from Youji. Youji's tongue flicked against Aya's lips and Aya welcomed him.

When he closed his eyes it was just as if he'd not nearly lost Youji. It was like they were just in the hotel room after going to the club. Youji's tongue skimmed his teeth, evaded his tongue, danced with him like a wicked blond fire and the same fire works that had been in his blood the first time came right back.

The kiss separated, weaning off with little kisses. "Are you okay?"

Youji's smile didn't reassure Aya. Youji always smiled when he hid something. It was only when the smile faltered and Youji laid a hand on the sheet covering his side. "I'm scared that I wouldn't get this baby. I'm scared that I'm too hopeless and evil to deserve a baby. I'm scared that I haven't got any right to ask you to help me with this baby, if I don't lose it. I'm scared I'm going to die."

"What have you got to be afraid of? I called you my 'golden lion' in front of Manx and Ken. She probably recorded me making an ass of myself, then sat in her office with Persia laughing about it."

"You did not deflower me," Youji said, laughing, then cutting the laugh off sharply, holding his side. "Don't make me laugh, okay?"

There was a moment of silence. Aya watched the sheets.

"Okay."

Aya looked up.

"You did deflower me. You're the only guy I've ever been with and the last lover I'll ever have," Youji said softly, promising.

Every moment before between them had been stolen, without spoken promises, just one breathe, one kiss at a time. They were killers.

"Don't promise," Aya said, head laying down on the bed, Youji's fingers in red hair. The smell of disinfectant, medical tape, cotton, these mingled for Aya, reminding him of the wound on Youji's side. "Don't promise."

"Promises are about life," Youji mumbled, voice rough, eyes stinging. "Promises… I can make promises if I can hold life inside me, even if only for a little while. Think about it, Aya, what if there really is a brand new life growing inside me, some new person that's never killed anyone or lost anyone. I can't be all bad if life can live in me for even a moment, can I?"

Aya's head snapped up, a loving hand moving to Youji's face, to smear warm tears over the yellow and green of fading bruises. "You are a good man, Kudou Youji. You are the kind of man that burns up his soul to save others and wonders why it's not enough. I think you're right. This life is growing in you because you had the good to nurture it. If it had been any of the rest of us, we would have had it removed. I would have had it taken from you, if I hadn't heard you want it protected. I'm selfish. Your life is so important to me. You are so important to me that I don't care what I said in the hall. All I care about is that you are with me," Aya said, then to lighten the mood, he smiled lightly, never as much as Youji, but Youji was good at reading Aya too. "And you thought I was compulsive about my sister, yeah?"

"Yeah," Youji said, rolling off his side when he couldn't stand it anymore. "Lay by me?" Youji asked, reaching towards Aya.

Aya sighed. Fireworks should not happen at a time like this, not in his blood. He should think of Youji's battered body and go soft cold noodles, but he'd seen Youji bruised and battered before. Youji had seen him, massaged out cramps and pulled out shrapnel, changed bandages, and even washed his hair. Youji never seemed embarrassed by being hard.

"It's okay if you've got a boner," Youji teased, smile way more genuine than the last. "I'm one sexy bastard."

Standing, Aya stretched, yawned, not saying anything. What was there to say to that?

"Come on," Youji said, arm lowering to his side. "Curl up next to me. I ain't wearing anything, but this sheet, AyaKun."

"Are you trying to get me to initiate a sexual encounter," Aya asked, amused, slightly confused.

"It's okay, if you don't want to," Youji said softly, telling himself that he didn't care if Aya didn't want to have sex with him anymore, short sighted, but intense.

"We don't have anything slick," Aya said, blush rising on his cheeks. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Sex doesn't hurt," Youji teased, eyelids sliding closed. "I didn't do it wrong, did I?"

"Stop teasing me," Aya glowered, the effect ruined by the slight lift of the corner of his mouth. "Or I'll make you laugh. And no, you didn't do anything wrong, Youji. At least not with sex and no more than I did things wrong. You're not in pain, too much pain?"

The sheet flashed, peeled back, revealing Youji's too slender, too colorful body. "Aya, Shit. Just come fuck me, or get me a smoke, or something."

"I wish I wasn't hard looking at you right now," Aya said, hating himself, thinking he should be comforting his lover, pampering him, not thinking about burying himself in that body.

"Am I ugly? Too fucked up right now?"

"No," Aya said, eyeing Youji's back, the line of muscle definition, the curve of a tight ass. "You're beautiful. Youji, I'm scared I'll need you too much, that I'll smother you with needing you like I did with my sister. If I love you with all my heart, I'll chase you away."

"I'll never leave you, never run," Youji promised, his only movement the slow rise and fall of his side as he breathed. "And I've always had a thing for being smothered."

Aya blinked. "You do? Like a fetish?"

Youji laughed, then held his side. "Fuck. Just hold me then?"

His hands shook as he unbuttoned his shirt. Part of him wanted to go back to the safe, expected life he'd thought he'd have when he'd only been Ran. Craving for Youji drew him forward though, drew him through stripping, through pressing his knee to the bed, a hand on Youji's shoulder, "I wouldn't leave you, Youji. I want to be the father of this child, in more than just any possible DNA."

The laugh was very small, relieved, Youji's fingers covering Aya's. "Even when you're not sedated?"

"I don't want to hear about that again," Aya said, stretching out behind Youji. His knees to the back of Youji's knees, he hid his face against Youji's shoulder. "I worked so hard on no one knowing me, on being someone else in this life, so the person I was wouldn't get touched by what I was doing. And then I spilled everything I was hiding in that hall. Vomited up ever little bit of dignity that I had. And the only thing that's keeping my sword out of my midsection is the hope that you'll love me even if I think of the world like a purple romance novel. I would have been someone different if Taketori hadn't destroyed my family."

"You would have been too good for me then," Youji said, nestling back against Aya's strong body.

"No, I would have passed you on the street one day, and our eyes would have locked, and I would have known that I loved you. I would have stopped and followed you. You would have liked my parents. They would have loved you."

Youji took a slow breath that hurt his chest, eyes clenched shut. "Why can't you just fuck me?"

"I'm making love to you with my soul, and you like it," Aya said, licking the edge of Youji's ear. "I'll make love to your body after the doctor says that it's okay. It's not just your prostate I want to take care of now. We have a child." For the first time, Aya's hand moved cautiously down to the closed wound in Youji's side, gliding over angry skin, over the swelling that hid this living part of both of them.

"We have a child," Youji agreed, amazed. "It's going to be a daughter. Maybe we'll name her Amethyst. Amethyst Fujimiya?"

"Amethyst Kudou-[Author ID1: at Sun Aug 1 19:57:00 2004 ]Fujimiya," Aya said, fingers slowly circling the rise in Youji's belly. In a woman there would be no rise yet, but Youji had a whole organ that hadn't been there and maybe there was still swelling. A kiss to Youji shoulder, lips brushing over skin, pulling it between Aya's lips, and they settled into a comfortable silence. Youji slipped back to sleep, and Aya followed, one hand in Youji's hair, the other on Youji's belly.