Live Wires

BY : genuinelies
Category: Wei▀ Kreuz > Yaoi - Male/Male
Dragon prints: 1166
Disclaimer: Weiss Kreuz is not mine and I make no money from this.


Title: Live Wires

Author: Genuinelie(s)

Fandom: Weiss

Characters: AxY, Omi, Ken

Rating: NC-17ish

Word Count: 7,000+

AN: I am so out of practice it's painful.




Blood dripped down his sword and Aya wondered, as he had an uncountable number of times before, whether hell could really be all that much different from his life.


He wiped the blade on the dead man by his feet and sheathed it.


"Great job Abyssinian!" Bombay chirped in his headset. "Mission accomplished!"


It was insane to him that Omi's praise actually did keep him going on some nights. This job was their lives and their souls, but it was still a job. He couldn't begin to know whether he was alone in Weiss with that thought, but he figured that he was. More than the others, after all, Kritiker paid his bills.


 Aya swung down the elevator shaft to the basement, and then hastened out to the parking garage where Omi was waiting with their car.


 "Good job with taking out surveillance," he acknowledged. It was less convenient than it sounded that their target had ended up in a hospital bed with a broken foot.


 Omi smiled at him and they drove slowly back out from the lot and onto the highway.


 It was a relief to work with Omi, Aya reflected. He might have been the youngest but he was the most professional, adept at clean jobs and knowing how to ride silently in a car. Ken babbled nonstop, and Yohji was worse. He didn't babble so much as talk, and it was frequently about topics Aya would rather avoid.


 "So I heard there was some trouble the other night," Omi brought up suddenly, his hands shifting nervously on the wheel.




 "Hn." Aya said, in place of leave me the hell alone.


 "Don't be angry with Ken, I asked him how the mission went."


 As he had suspected. Ken was usually smart about being scarce after pissing him off, though, so there wouldn't be much chance to throttle him.


"I know it's hard, but we all need to put our emotions aside on these missions. If there's an issue with a teammate we need to be able to put that on hold and talk about it back at the Koneko."


 "Tell that to Yohji," Aya muttered.


 Omi sighed.




To Aya's surprise, Ken was waiting for them when they got back.


 "Nobody hurt? Good. I'm calling a meeting."


 "No," Aya said flatly, staring him down. He moved to go upstairs.


 "We should really meet," Omi chimed in.


 "With three of us?" Aya spat.


 "That's probably better, doncha think, man?"


 "Meet with Yohji." He got up three stairs.


 "Aya!" Omi called. "We need to meet with you."


 His leather coat was weighing heavily on his shoulders. His neck itched from the damned mask he'd had to wear on account of the setting. His gloves were sweaty and crusty with blood. The mission - both missions, both nights - were over, and Yohji was out on a damned date.


 "It's not like we didn't hear what you both said," Ken pointed out.


 "Then why do you need to talk to me?"


 "Because we aren't sure what you did after that!" Omi exclaimed, at the same exact time Ken said, "Because Yohji screeched like a girl!"


 Aya narrowed his eyes at the wooden step that was eye-level.  "Did Yohji complain?"


 "No, but he's pretty pissed!" Ken's voice was rising.


 "Tell him to leave me alone, and schedule us for different shifts." Aya said. "There's no problem."


 "Jesus." Ken mumbled.


 Aya continued up the stairs to his room.




"So you said that, and he did what?" Ken shrieked.


 "Mmhm." Yohji's fingers twiddled with his dwindling cigarette. He was sitting on the steps to the Koneko. Ken was trying to look busy arranging their outside flower stand, shifting his eyes every so often to the purple eyes that were trained on him. He was going to get it later. Omi had been smart enough to take the cart and make door-to-door deliveries.


 Ken squared his shoulders. "And so you...and he's...?"


 "An asshole," Yohji nodded. "Nothing new there. Just keep him the hell away from me, yeah?"






 Aya closed his eyes to compose himself before he did something stupid, like brandish his shears at his own teammate. He turned to find Omi with his hands on his hips. Behind him he saw Yohji and Ken still wasting time on the sidewalk through the window.


"Why did you punch Yohji?"


 "That's not what happened."


 "Why did you put your sword hilt into his...his...then?"


 "Because it's the most painful," Aya admitted.


 "Good lord! Why, Aya?"


 "You tell Kudoh to stay out of my personal life, and it won't happen again."


 "Your... he was talking about his date last night!"


 Aya grimaced. "He shouldn't have been talking about that on a mission."


 "How does that warrant what you did?"


 "It's none of your business."


 Omi's lips were thinning. "You know that what happens between teammates on a mission is Weiss business!"


 It was Aya's turn to press his lips together. He examined Omi's face, but for all its anger it still seemed innocent. "You know Yohji hardly does anything without a reason."


 Omi smiled slightly, but it was pained. "Sometimes he's just a ditz, Aya. You overreacted."


 "You know what he meant."


 "He was probably just kidding! Does that really bother you that much?"


 "...he was trying to bother me." Aya gritted his teeth.


 "Aya! I mean, I...if you really feel that way, you should know that I…" Omi worried at his lower lip.


 Aya raised an eyebrow, then flattened it before Omi noticed. In a kinder voice, he said, "It wouldn't bother me if it were true, and if it hadn't been Yohji saying it. It was his intentions, Omi, not his words."


 It seemed as though the members of Weiss were more similar than even he had thought.




"So how does Yohji suggesting that Aya sleep with his date get him knocked in the nuts, huh?" Ken flopped down on Omi's bed.


 Omi paused in clacking away at his keyboard and swiveled in his chair to look at him. "I don't think it was that."


 "What? Oh. The sword thing...? Really?" Ken guffawed. "Yohji's always saying crap like that. I mean, I might have decked him too, but..."


 "You would have saved it for after the mission," Omi suggested sternly.


 "...right, yeah." Ken plucked at the bedspread. "...huh. So Aya's getting touchy about that sort of thing. That's new, huh? He cracking up or what? Guess we should start keeping an eye on him."


 "You know, he never really used to care, did he?" Omi mused. "Like, he usually just ignores him."


 "That's what you have to do with Yohji!" Ken agreed cheerfully.


 "Mm..." Omi was lost in thought.




"Kudoh." Aya paused in the doorway to the kitchen, dismayed to find Yohji already rooting through the refrigerator.


 Yohji hit his head on the freezer door standing up, and met Aya with a narrow glare.


 Aya sighed. Yohji raised an eyebrow, examining his face. It was one the traits that made Yohji easy to be with when things were going well - he seemed to know what he was thinking a good percentage of the time, a good match for his natural reticence. At the moment, it made Aya want to swallow his words and stalk away.


 "I'm sorry for responding as I did to you."


 "Making me have to ice my dick the night before my date, you mean?" Yohji's lips twisted, not in a smile.


 "You broke up with her anyway."


 "Yeah, but not before..."


 "You're an ass."


 "She was the one who wanted a threesome!" Yohji whined. "That's not exactly a perfect match, in my books."


"I thought you would go for something like that."


 "Wait," Yohji frowned, and shut the fridge with a thunk, making the glasses in the door rattle. "You can say shit like that, and I can't say..."


 Aya looked away.


 "...that you're good with swords, so maybe you should date her instead? I was joking, Aya! The whole thing just freaked me out, okay? Not about you at all. It's not like she wanted another girl, yanno...oh, for...I'm sorry for saying it. I had no idea you'd take that seriously."


 "It was bad timing." Aya gritted out, turning back to him. "Stay focused on the next mission."




 "I said I was sorry, Yohji!"


 "We'll have to make a proper date for our chitchat, then, yanno...hard to get you out of your room. Feel like we never talk anymore."


 There was something cutting to Yohji's voice that Aya couldn't place the reason for. This was exactly why it took consideration of Omi's feelings to get him to apologize to the oldest Weiss, even when it was owed.


"Just stay out of my way, if you can't get over it."


 Aya turned on his heel, forgoing the dinner he'd come to make.




 "Whoa, man, rough night?" Ken came in and grabbed one of the unopened beers on the table without asking. He plopped down in one of the chairs, across the kitchen table from Yohji. There were two empty beer cans next to the dwindling six pack in front of him.


 "Nah," Yohji ran a hand through his hair and shoved his sunglasses up into the strands, a positive sign where Ken was concerned. Yohji hiding his eyes was always like a red sky in morning.


 They sat companionably for a few moments.


 "He apologized," Yohji mentioned. "There's a snowball melting somewhere."


 Ken's mouth opened. He fought down his surprise. " good?"


 "Omi's rubbing off on you, Ken-ken, you're gonna turn into another mother hen, yanno." Yohji said. After a few moments the shades were propped back on his nose. "It's me. Of course we're good. Might have said something to piss him off again."


  Ken took a gulp of his beer.






 Aya's nails scraped on the wooden counter by the cash register as his hand tried to make a fist. He could guess what was about to be said. "I'm tired of talking about Yohji, Ken."


 "Whoa, how did you...?"


 "Because Omi won't leave me alone. He sent you."


 "N-not true!" Ken protested, hefting a plant onto the cart that would eventually make it back into the storage room before they finished closing.


 Ken was examining the counter and every inch of space around them. Not a good sign, Aya was sure he was checking for weapons. Lucky Ken, the space was clear except for potted plants in non-threatening plastic containers and the cash register, which was too big to make a decent missile.


 Ken's eyes were earnest when he straightened on the other side of the counter. Also not a good sign. "Aya. Man." He gulped, and visibly braced himself. Aya almost smiled. "Things still aren't good."


 "Yohji hasn't made it easy."


 "I know, I know." Ken nodded. "I've been thinking about it though. You know. That night. What he said."


 "Don't hurt yourself," Aya gritted out.


 "Wait!" Ken put a hand flat on the counter, then withdrew it after an obvious second thought. "Aya. Please don't...anyway. It's okay."


"What, Hidaka?"


 "Oh Jesus. Okay. I was thinking about why Yohji could have pissed you off so badly with what he said. How he always says shit like that, and it probably just built up, right, and then..."


 "Did Omi put you up to this?"


 "No! I..."




 "No! Aya. Listen. I think I get it."


 "You shouldn't think, Hidaka. It's not your strong point."


 He was seriously pissing Ken off, Aya could see a muscle twitching in his cheek. That was good, this was a conversation he never wanted to have.


 "Fine, Fujimiya. But get this. It's okay. Omi doesn't care, hell, he might even...but anyway, I mean, it's not a big deal, right? So don't worry. We're Weiss. A team. Got it?"


 Aya stood stock-still, staring without blinking at Ken's earnest face.


 After a moment that was all too much like hunter and prey, Aya spoke. "Is Yohji in on this?"


 "No! I told you, I just..."


Aya frowned, then nodded at Ken. Ken's shoulders relaxed.


 Aya went back to counting the till.




Yohji stopped laughing and frowned, then widened his eyes. “Wait. You’re serious. Aya?”


“He thinks you said it on purpose. Did you, Yohji?” Omi had his serious-business face on. “Is that why you always tease him?”


“I tease everyone!” Yohji protested.


“Aya a little more than us, though, you know it’s true, man.” Ken asserted.


Yohji waved his hands defensively. “Huh.”


“Hey. Omi. Can I speak to Yohji for a second? You know, mano-a-mano.”


“That doesn’t mean what you think it does, Ken-ken,” Yohji grinned.




Omi gnawed at his lip, but nodded and left.


“Ok. So. As the resident straight guy…”


“What?!” Yohji’s voice went up an octave. “You? Look. I’m the only one who goes on dates here. With girls, if you haven’t…”


“Wow, man, okay, okay! Don’t get even more defensive when I say this, but, you ever notice a whole lotta straight guys don’t make the types of jokes you do?”


Yohji had his kill-face on. Ken had to steel himself against backing up involuntarily.


“That’s because not a whole lotta guys are as comfortable in their manhood as I am, baby.”


“Right. Well. I mean, other than Omi, because yeah, he kind of brings it on himself with what he wears, right? But he doesn’t care. What I’m saying, is that it takes a lot of balls to say some of the things you do to Aya. You get me? To Aya. And you’re still alive.”


Yohji looked relieved. “Right. Well, he’s uptight. We all like picking on him.”


Ken frowned. “Not really.”


“It’s who I am! I can’t help it if I’m naturally witty,” Yohji grinned.


“So you pick on Aya, and he hasn’t killed you, which means somewhere in that crazy head of his he’s decided he doesn’t want to beat the ever-loving crap out of you. Get what that means? That you said something to really piss him off on the mission.” Ken felt like he was on a train headed for broken tracks. “Is what I’m saying, and it’s like…well, he’s picked up on it. That maybe there’s a reason you give him a hard time. And for how smart he is, he doesn’t get people sometimes, you know? At least not the good side of people. But you don’t seem like that type of guy, man. The type that would pick on a guy for that, you know?”


“I’m not!” Yohji protested. “God, I never thought…”


“…and I have to…don’t kill me for this, alright? Seriously. I just didn’t think you were straight when I met you. I was just wondering if maybe…fuck! Jesus!”


Omi burst into the room. “Yohji! What just happened! Ken, oh my god, are you all right!?”


Ken glowered at Yohji, who was still shaking his fist out. “Fuck, man! That is exactly what happened that night with Aya! Now you see what I mean?”


“Yohji…” Omi’s sad voice entered the silence.


“Maybe you should talk to each other before you kill us on a mission, you jackass!”


Yohji looked dangerous. He pushed past them both and out the door, leaving them in his room.




"Yohji still not speaking to you?" Omi sounded halfway between sympathetic and worried.


Ken rolled his eyes.


A noise made them both look toward the doorway in time to catch the coattails of Yohji's mission gear disappear through the doorway into the garage.


"Remember you're bugged!" Omi called after him. The revving up of Seven answered him, followed a moment later by screeching tires.


"You really gonna let us listen in on this?" Ken asked, when he was safely gone.


Omi shrugged.




It was one of the weirdest locations he'd been assigned to take out a dark beast, and it was because of the normalcy of it. Aya wondered just how he was going to pull it off without having to knock out half the roomful of patrons as well. He pushed through the glass doors of the restaurant.


"Fujimiya? Yes, let me take you to your table," the surely-Kritiker-paid hostess said.


He hadn't been allowed to take his katana. He wondered what the hell Omi had been thinking, and why this was the ideal spot in the youngest Weiss' mind for a hit. Surely the man went elsewhere during the day or night - like a private home to sleep, for example, or at least a hotel.


He ordered a water and opened the menu for show after he'd taken his seat at the private booth. Had Omi arranged a private meeting with their target? Irritably, Aya realized he'd have to use his knife as a mirror to see half the room. The waitress brought him a glass with clinking ice cubes and a slip of paper.


Please stay and talk. Omi’s handwriting.


"Your table, sir."


"Fuck no!"


"Beg pardon? Please, have a seat and your waiter will be right with you."


Aya half-rose, hands flat on the table, facing his unexpected teammate. "This is my mission, Kudoh!"


Yohji gave a weak smile and waved a note, identical in size and shape to the one by Aya's silverware. "Bombay has me bugged, and this says we're both on the mission." He slid into the booth. "Guess it needs two of us. Let's kill them when we get back, eh? They're having a movie night, those little bastards." He grinned, but it was pained-looking.


"I don't need your help," Aya hissed, but sat back down.


"I don't need yours," Yohji countered. "Are you going to ditch me?"


Aya kept his attention centered on scanning the room.


"Look. Aya. For what it's worth, I'm sorry about what I said. I really didn't know-"


Aya whipped his head back to look at him. "Know what?"


"That...hell, you know, that you''s okay, hell, Ayan, don't give me that..."


"Abysinnian, Balinese."


"We're in a restaurant, isn't that, I don't know, a little weird? Since we aren't supposed to draw attention to ourselves and all. It'd make us sound like porn st-"


Aya leaned across the table. "Bombay, this is not acceptable."


"Anyway, did you even hear me, Aya? We all know. We're okay with it. Can't you lighten up...?"


Aya's jaw tensed. "You don't know everything, Kudoh."


"Aren't we on a first name basis? I mean, we're all dressed up, and out on this nice...I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Nervous habit." Yohji grinned sheepishly at him.


"Excuse me, but your third party has delivered a message." Another host stopped by their table, looking down his nose at the both of them. "They send their regrets, but will not be joining you this evening. Your meal has been paid for in full with an open tab. Enjoy. Your waiter will return momentarily to take your order."


Aya was speechless. He realized his grip on this butter knife was turning his knuckles white, and relaxed it.


"I could have had a real date tonight!" Yohji tore something off his lapel and crushed it with his fork. "...Aya? Hey, an open tab is nothing to waste!"


Yohji spread his hands at him in supplication.


"I was just joking, again. I know, I know, I'm sorry," Yohji said. "Bad habit."


Aya met his eyes. Yohji's expression was brittle.


"What happened to Ken?" Aya asked finally. "It wasn't Omi, and that leaves you."


"None of your business."


"Take your own advice, Yohji."


"Fine, fine. He said he thought I wasn't straight when he first met me, and I overreacted. Yeah, I know, Ayan, don't give me that look. But it's not true for me! Oh, shit, wait, damn! How is this the thing that you're worried about? Did you forget what we do?"


"I'm not worried about it, Yohji!" Aya slapped his hand on the table. "But this is not up for discussion. I'm leaving."


"Why not just stay?" Yohji met his eyes. They were clear, free from all the usual masks. "Omi's paying. Can’t we just move on and I'll try not to be such an idiot?"


"Don't make promises you can't keep," Aya muttered, but settled back down. He looked everywhere but at Yohji.


"May I take your order?" The waitress smiled at them.


"Sure, you can have my number," Yohji said with a wink.


The girl actually giggled. "That is so not smooth."


"But endearing?"




"Excuse me." Aya got up after all.


"I'll be back," He heard Yohji promise the waitress. Aya picked up his pace.


He made it to the driver's side door to his porsche when Yohji caught up. He took a running leap to close it before Aya got in.


Aya whirled on him. "What is your problem?"


"Mine?" Yohji screeched. "How would I know flirting with the waitress would be another no-no, huh? It's better than flirting with you, right?"


Aya grabbed him by the front of his mission coat and thunked him backwards against the car. Yohji threw up his hands in submission. "What the fucoomph!?"


Yohji was actually kissing him back. Some sort of automatic reaction, he was sure. Aya put a hand behind his head, eyes closed, holding him in place, before practically throwing him away from him and putting distance between them.


Yohji's hand was at his mouth. He was staring at him in what approximated shell shock.


"Give me space," Aya said heavily. He paused a minute more, in some sort of daze. "Time. It will not be a problem again."


He scoured Yohji's face, just to be sure, and was sorry he did.


He opened the car door, got in, and was down the road before Yohji had a chance to show any signs of life.




A lit cigarette was dangling from the same hand that Yohji was grinding into his forehead. Bent over the table with his eyes closed, he spoke before Omi could.


"Where the hell is Aya?"


Omi sighed. It had been two nights since the disastrous attempt at reconciling the two eldest Weiss. He was honestly surprised that neither Aya nor Yohji had spoken to them about it before that. "He's on leave, Yohji. Manx cleared it. He'll be back in a week. I think it's a good thing, he's been too stressed lately."


Omi cleared away the empty beer cans. Yohji didn't acknowledge it.


"What exactly happened after you trashed the bug?"


"You really want to bring this up, kiddo?" Yohji's eyes were steely.


"Breakfast?" Omi switched gears cheerfully.




“So everything’s good now, Aya?” Omi asked, leaning forward in his computer chair in the basement, toward where Aya stood by the mission room stairs.


Aya nodded. “I needed to get away to clear my head. Thank you for the leave.”


“Of course!” Omi seemed offended. “Manx said she gave you one mission while you were away, so it’s not even like you weren’t Weiss. It would have been better to have a real break.”


Aya shook his head. He hated the nervous note that crept into his voice, but it had to be asked. “Did Yohji tell you…”


“About the rest of the night?” Omi at least looked uncomfortable too. “No. One of you didn’t hit…”


“No.” Aya said. He paused. “Everything is sorted out.”


“Except for Yohji,” Omi commented.


Aya didn’t know how to respond to that, so he didn’t.


“You broke him somehow, Aya. He’s been drunk this whole time. I came downstairs for breakfast and he’d already ‘eaten’ a six pack!”


“Maybe he needs a vacation too,” Aya said shortly.


“Will you talk to him?” Omi begged, blue eyes wider than a human’s should have been able to get.


“I think it would be better if I didn’t.”


“Welcome back, Aya. And I think the kid has a great idea there.”


Aya looked up to see Yohji paused at the top of the stairs.


Omi perked up. “Great! I’ll leave you two alone. Or do you want me to stay?”


“Stay,” Aya said, just as Yohji added, “Leave.”


Omi patted Aya on the shoulder and followed Yohji’s command. Aya frowned as Yohji made his way down the steps.


“Are you drunk?”


“You betcha,” Yohji smiled twistedly.


“Then I’m not doing this now. Find me later.”


“Yanno,” Yohji drawled. “I’m not gay. But if I was, you are probably the only man I’d ever consider fucking-“


It was a tribute to Aya’s now long-gone week off that Yohji was untouched by the time Aya reached the top of the stairs.




“Yohji,” Ken said conversationally. “Why is there a week’s worth of beer in the trash? Perfectly good, unopened beer?”


“Because I wasn’t drunk enough last night,” Yohji exclaimed, as if that even made sense. “And I won’t ever be drunk enough, but I was drunk enough to fucking-oh god. You haven’t seen Aya yet, right?”


Ken raised an eyebrow and shook his head.


“Good. Switch shifts with me?”


“No can do, Omi’s orders.”


“Who cares!” Yohji flourished an arm. “Aha. There it is.” He pulled a liquor bottle from underneath the sink. “Okay. You can have this if you switch shifts. Deal?”


“More of a beer guy myself. Try Aya.”


“Fuck you, Hidaka.”


“What did I do?”






The lights had suddenly been switched on, right on top of his hangover.


“Are you sober?” Aya asked, after Yohji raised his head enough to squint at him. “Good. I’m just here to say I’m sorry for what I did before I left.”


“Don’t worry about it.”


“I’m concerned, Yohji,” Aya said.


“If I didn’t think you were hitting on me I’d be thrilled to hear it, Ayan.”


“Can’t take your own medicine, Kudoh?”


Yohji sat upright. “There is no way in hell you can tell me that was a joke, Aya.”


“I was under too much stress. You were purposefully baiting me. You don’t have to…worry I’ll do anything else, Yohji.”


“I’m not worried!” To his credit, Yohji didn’t deny the assertion.






“Omi, have you ever seen Aya, with anyone?” Yohji leaned against Omi’s doorway nonchalantly.


“Sakura.” Omi smiled from where he was sitting cross-legged on his bed. “Makes sense now, doesn’t it? Why he’s pushed her away so much?” There was a magazine spread in front of him and an empty dinner plate on the nightstand. Omi was avoiding them too, in his own way.


Yohji waved a hand. “He doesn’t think he deserves anyone. That’s all. So, you think that’s why?”


Omi frowned. “Why what?”


Yohji took a deep breath. “He kissed me that night, kiddo.”


Omi put down his tea. “Oh.”


“So it makes sense, right? That I’m another Weiss, so he doesn’t have any secrets. I’m just like him. So he’d get attached to me like…like police partners would, right? So it’s nothing deeper than that.”


“Is that what happened with you and Asuka, Yohji?”


Yohji worked his mouth. “No. Of course not!”


But he frowned, unsettled.




Aya’s kiss had not felt wrong, Yohji finally admitted to himself. It had felt good.


Right. Bizarrely, unsettlingly right.


But it was just a kiss. That wasn’t an indicator of anything, least of all a sexuality he was more than comfortable with expressing.


But if he was gay…in some parallel universe…yeah, okay, he hadn’t lied. Aya would be at the top of the list of fuckable men, based on appearances alone.


Omi had been on to something though.


You saved a person’s life enough and counted on them to return the favor, and you were bound to form an attachment and develop some sort of protective feelings toward each other. Simple as that.


So why did Aya nail it when he said he’d been purposefully baiting him? Admittedly, he made an effort to get under the other man’s skin.


Because Aya was just so easy to bait.


Because Aya just seemed so unreachable, and Yohji liked to be able to draw him out. Even if it was by pissing him off.


Because he worried about the other man. Because he was worried that they’d lose him to his demons sooner or later. Because in some of the most obscure, important ways, he was similar to Yohji himself.


So yeah. He cared about him more than he’d realized, he guessed. Just not like that.


So shouldn’t he have pulled away when Aya had kissed him? Shouldn’t he have been repulsed, and not turned on? Shouldn’t he have been over this a week ago, instead of spelunking for emotions he hadn’t even been aware he’d had?


Yohji was regretting the beer long since ferreted away by Ken or the garbage collectors.




Aya was furious with himself. He had been telling the truth when he'd said it was stress, of course. Omi had gotten into the habit of assigning Yohji as his backup, and Yohji had gotten into the habit of making innuendos to Aya, and then there'd been the mission where Aya had realized he was thinking more about Yohji's safety than his own, never a good sign for an assassin. Then the dreams had started, of missions where the other man died, or was seducing him. It was a toss up, but they had been happening frequently enough that Aya had to remind himself that they were delusions, not fact, upon waking.


It was working with Botan that had done it, he realized. A friendship lost, another death. It had forced him to realize that despite his best efforts, he was emotionally attached to his teammates. The physical attraction to Yohji he could ignore, as he had successfully since joining Weiss. The irrational fear of loss was harder to overcome.


He was a weapon. He was no longer living for himself.


What had made him forget that, in that moment he'd kissed Yohji?


It wasn't worth analyzing.




After a good half hour searching the lower half of the Koneko, Yohji finally found Aya on the roof, practicing katas. He leaned against the outcropping of the door, kicking the box holding it open down the stairs as he did so. The door shut with a final-sounding click.


Aya stopped his movement immediately, turning to face Yohji with a sweaty brow, looking far too young for what he was in his simple black tee and black mission pants. His sword was held with the tip facing the ground.


A moment later, he broke the illusion by narrowing his eyes at Yohji's feet, where the box should have been propping open the door. "You better have the key."


Yohji shrugged. "What would be the point?"


Aya blinked, then apparently figured out that he'd been purposefully cornered, features carefully smoothing into placidity. "You want to talk."


Yohji smiled. "Right. Sort of."


Yohji did not miss the shift of his eyes to his watch, and then to the neighboring roof, a jump Aya had successfully made before.


"We haven't practiced together in a while," Yohji said easily. "You wanna spar with me?"


Aya visibly relaxed a little. "If it would get you over it."


"I'm over it!" Yohji pushed himself off the wall and came towards him. Aya's bangs blew away from his eyes in a momentary gust of wind. "Just thought it would be good to work it out a little. Since you've been avoiding me, you see, Aya, I've noticed."


Aya brought his sword up swiftly, and waited for Yohji to draw his wire. "Why shut the door?"


Yohji shrugged a shoulder. "Wasn't sure you'd agree to it or not. Ready?"


Looking suspicious, Aya nodded slowly, and lunged.


Yohji yanked the blade sideways with his garrote and danced out of the way, flicking it back to catch the hilt of the katana. Aya stomped a foot down, holding it in place, switched his grip, and yanked the wire off the short end.


Yohji meanwhile lassoed an ankle, overtop of his pants, and yanked him backward. Stumbling, Aya fell to the ground, catching himself in a crouch and swiping at the wire. It was a moment too late; Yohji gave a second yank and the sword hit the ground, clattering out of Aya's hand across the roof. Aya scrambled for it, but was still leashed by the garrote. He flipped himself over on his back, arms flat beside him.


"Match, Kudoh. Release me."


Aya's chest was rising and falling more quickly than it should have been. It was a short match, simple, no running involved. The muscles in his arms were tensed. Aya's pale skin, red hair, and impossibly-colored eyes looked perfect in contrast with his black clothes. As always.


If he had been female...suddenly Yohji blinked.


It would not have made the other man any better looking.


Strength of character. Perhaps it wasn't a question of gay or straight, but how unsettling it had been to see that Aya, frosty, introverted, focused Aya, was just as human as the rest of them.


He had seemed untouchable. And for all his efforts, he had never expected Aya to open up to him. He’d never expected that pedestal to lower.


He'd had time to become less freaked out. And in that time he'd realized that for all his searching, he was self-sabotaging in his search for a true partner. All the women in all the bars of the world couldn't understand him the way the man on the ground in front of him did. His pseudo-relationships kept failing because they were based on lies, and always would be.


...but could he actually do it? Or was he going to break Weiss when he tried this thing out, and realized he was actually straighter than he'd like?


"Yohji. Let me go."


Yohji crouched down instead. He yanked the wire off of Aya's leg, retracting it into his watch. Aya immediately sat up, and amazingly stayed in place to face him.


"I thought it would be easier to do this if I had you wrapped up," Yohji admitted, "Less chance of fatal injuries, yanno."


While Aya was still processing, Yohji pressed his lips to his swiftly, tongue following.


Aya jerked away. Yohji opened his eyes to see the vulnerability get shut down before it really bloomed.


"You have no right." Aya growled, standing. "We're even."


Yohji followed, grabbing his wrist. He managed to deflect the punch. "Aya. I'm not joking around." He pulled him forward, telling his nerves to go fuck themselves.


Aya responded for a blissful moment, leaning forward and everything.


Then the fucker bit his lip.


"I'm not." He was struggling with his breath or his words, Yohji wasn't sure. His mouth tasted like copper. "Not interested in anything. Like this."


"Like hell!" Yohji snapped. "You can't tell me you're not worth me either, Ayan, I'm just as broken as you. I'm willing to try this out. I know you. There isn't a chance you would have kissed me that night if...I'm sorry I was freaked, but what did you expect?" Yohji waved his arms.


The cars from the street below filled the long silence.


Aya turned away from him.


Yohji flung the garrote around his arms, before Aya could dodge the wire. Aya went still, the wire loose enough on his bare skin not to cut, but only barely.


Yohji walked around to the front of him again, eyes on the other man's face. His fingers blindly found the button and zipper to Aya's pants, hands trembling slightly.


"You won't be able to," Aya breathed. "You'll destroy Weiss. I'll leave."


"You tell me if you honestly don't want this," Yohji countered.


"You tell me that you do, and the situation would be different," Aya said softly.


Yohji didn't have a response for that. "Isn't it enough I want to try?"




He tugged his pants down to his ankles, watching Aya for signs of disgust, or displeasure. For the first time, there was only unguarded worry. Yohji palmed him through his white briefs, happy to find Aya already half-hard. It wasn't as weird as he thought. What he felt there was similar enough to his own.


But he only had Aya's features to tell him whether or not what he was doing felt good. Yohji's breath caught and he lost his tension when Aya's mouth parted and his eyes fluttered shut, if only for the briefest moment.


"I obviously haven't done this before," Yohji hemmed throatily. " know. I'm sorry if it sucks."


He let the wire go slack. Aya stayed where he was. Yohji dropped to his knees, and slid the cloth over the hard-on he'd created. Eyes flicking between Aya's, he put his lips over the tip and shoved the length inside his mouth.


Not the best taste, but neither was it unpleasant. He licked the underside and began a steady rhythm, keeping the pressure with his lips.


Aya stumbled and caught himself with fingers in Yohji's hair. Internally, Yohji grinned. The other man was biting his lip as if he were physically keeping himself from making noise. Adventurously, Yohji put a hand on his ass, guiding the motion of Aya's bucking hips.


"Nn!" Liquid suddenly filled Yohji's mouth, and he swallowed it like a champion. Aya was bent over his head, hands on his back, nails pressing into the skin. Yohji threw his other arm around Aya's thighs and clutched him until he straightened.


Aya's eyes were far more alert than his would have been, however, and they were trained on his face. Yohji wiped his mouth off on his forearm and grinned. "I think I passed the practice test, eh?"


Aya bent to retrieve his underwear and pants from where they were pooled around his feet, but not before Yohji saw the first real smile he'd ever seen spread on Aya's lips. When he straightened again it was gone. Aya went to retrieve his sword, and then offered Yohji a hand up.


"Hey. I mean. Give and take? Go all for it?" Yohji scanned his face nervously. That had turned him on an uncomfortable amount.


Aya nodded to the door, and looked unsurprised when Yohji produced the key.




"This should work. Right?" Yohji wagged the lube bottle he'd retrieved from his nightstand. "Same thing and all. Okay for...I mean, you sure you wanna do this, Aya?"


"I could jack you off if you'd rather," Aya said.


Yohji blinked. He would have placed good money on a bet that he'd never have heard those words come from that mouth, even after actually hearing them uttered.


Yohji threw the bottle on the bed and jumped next to it. Same principal as a girl, right? Get them - whoever it was - relaxed? Then go for it? He placed his palms flat on Aya's tense back and began to massage, until he felt the muscles loosen.


Aya turned and shoved him backward, throwing a leg over to straddle his calves. Slowly he unbuckled Yohji's belt and undid his pants, plunging a hand inside before Yohji could brace himself.


"You know I haven't done this before," Aya said suddenly.


"No pressure, then, right? Jesus. You sure you're...?"


Yohji's hips were moving with Aya's fingers. He gasped when he drew away and slid first his shirt, then the rest off his body.


This is okay, Yohji realized. I'm looking, and I'm turned on, and it's okay.


Aya tugged Yohji's clothes off his legs and torso and reached for the bottle of lube, squeezing some out and gripping Yohji's hard on without preamble.


Yohji laughed, a shade short of nervously. "I'm going to have to teach you some seduction techniques, baby,"


Aya looked startled. He withdrew his hand. "Now?"


"No. Later. You know, when we do this again."


Aya's eyes narrowed. "If you decide you want to."


There was something going on in Aya's brain that sent off warning bells, but Yohji wasn't quite coherent enough to want to dwell on it.


Aya slowly slid beside him, flat on his stomach. Yohji ran a hand over his arm, down his back, over one thigh, and pushed himself up, flipping to lay flush against him. He leaned forward over Aya's shoulder and pressed their lips together. Aya nodded against his mouth. Yohji shoved his hand carefully between Aya's stomach and the mattress, searching until he found a firm grip.


"I'm going to make you come again," Yohji whispered.


Aya's breath hitched. Yohji smiled.


Aya, like this, was blowing his mind.


He must have done something right in his life.


"Fingers first," Aya directed.


"Right," Yohji muttered, and withdrew his hand to lube up his other one. Taking a deep breath, he worked one digit inside, then two. Aya shoved against him, earttails shielding his expression. Yohji reached forward again and was delighted to find a beginning firmness.


"Okay, Aya?"


"Just go, Yohji."


Yohji worked his hand over Aya's dick instead, before he positioned himself as best as he could guess. He pushed forward, agonizingly slow. He just wanted to thrust, hard, and it was taking all of his self-control to listen to Aya's breathing for guidance and take it slow.


Suddenly, Aya pushed upwards, sinking him. He gasped in sync with Aya.


"There's," Aya said. "There' feels good there. Move."


Yohji was too happy to oblige. He moved his grip on Aya in time with his shoving hips.  He thunked his forhead against Aya's sweaty back. "Ho. Holy sh. Shit."


"Nn. Yohji, up," Aya said.


Yohji's eyes flew open and he stopped. "Get off?" He gasped.


"No!" Aya gritted out. "Just. The position."


"Ah. Right. Sorry. Like...?" Yohji began to thrust again.


"Nn!" A good noise, that time. Yohji grinned and then lost it to concentration. Aya was thick and fully aroused in his palm, bucking into the mattress.


He lost it a moment later, Aya following before he had a chance to regain his coherency. He tried to remember when it was that in sync with anyone else and couldn't recall a single time.


He pulled out and flopped beside his teammate, who had his face buried in the pillow. He nudged his shoulder into Aya's sleepily.



Aya turned his head to face him. His hair was disheveled, his face was relaxed. Yohji had never seen a person look more appealing.


Aya closed his eyes. Yohji followed suit.




Aya felt a gentle squeeze on his elbow, and turned to see that Yohji had joined him behind the cash register in the flower shop.


“Woke up and you were gone. Everything all right?” Yohji murmured.


That was a relative question.


Yohji’s eyes held no hint of derision, fear, smugness, or that knife-edge desperation he tried so hard to hide.


It took a moment to realize he hadn’t answered Yohji. The clarity of that gaze and the warmth there was off-putting. He’d never seen Yohji look like that before.


Yohji was as serious as he was about them.


It was alarming, in its own twisted way.


Yohji smiled at him, and it took Aya a moment to realize it was in response to a small smile that had snuck its way onto Aya’s own lips. Aya ducked his head.


“Omi, Ken,” Yohji called grandly into the otherwise empty shop, “Announcement! Everyone’s favorite Yohji Kudoh is officially…”


“…off the market?” Omi answered dryly. His voice warmed a moment later. “Glad you two worked it out!”


Yohji’s voice was deflated. “Aya! You told them?”


Aya raised an eyebrow. “I had to. Fraternization. It changes the balance of Weiss so I wanted to give Omi the opportunity to reassign me if…”


Yohji snorted. Ken let out a guffaw. Aya glared at Yohji, and was thrilled to notice he had newfound influence when the blond coughed and stopped laughing.


Yohji leaned in. In a voice only Aya could hear, he muttered, “Seriously though?”


“I didn’t know if…I didn’t know if it would be necessary.”


Yohji threw an arm over his shoulders. Omi and Ken grinned at each other as Aya tried to choke back his embarrassment. It wasn’t as hard as he thought it would be, Yohji’s hug was too pleasant.


“You worry too much. Remember how I said I’d passed the practice test? Mm, Aya?” Aya shifted his eyes, meeting Yohji’s. They were twinkling with humor, a warning sign if Aya knew Yohji Kudoh at all.


“Well, good news. I passed the entrance exam too…oof! Hey! That was funny.”

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