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The Suite	By : acmelger Category: Weiß Kreuz > General Views: 3342 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Weiß Kreuz, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Suite
- 1
Disclaimer - I don't own the characters, and will make no money from my little story.

“No,” Ken
said.

“No way,”
Yoji agreed.

“No.”

“Absolutely
not.”

“No.”

“How can
you even?”

“No.”

“Really, I
mean.”

“No.”

“There are
no women!”

Ken
blinked, unable to repeat his simple denial. Omi blinked, too, and Aya
glowered.

“I’m not in
– no women,” Yoji stated firmly, heading for the mission room stairs.

“No,” Ken
repeated. He opened his mouth to say more, but couldn’t. He shook his head
fervently. “No.”

Manx turned
to Aya and Omi. “You two can complete the mission with perhaps minimal back up
from Ken,” she paused for effect. “Or Yoji.”

Omi blinked
owlishly, looking 12 rather than 18. “Do you really need me?”

“This
requires a couple,” Manx said expressionlessly.

“I’m in,”
Aya said simply. As Aya took every mission he was offered, this should have
surprised no one.

Omi was
taking too long to process the simple information. The target Tsugawa Keisuke
trafficked in human beings, providing “slaves” for free labor and more sinister
uses. He frequented a western-style spa resort at the beach with his underage
lover, Tanaka Kyou. The resort was backed with gang money and Tsugawa was given
free reign to behave as he liked. He and his boyfriend often picked up new
“friends” during their visits. The idea was that a two-man team would stay at
the resort posing as a couple to get to the target.

Very
simple, really. Omi he he was an obvious choice, since he still looked
underage. If Ken or Yoji had agreed to be his partner, he wouldn’t even be
thinking about it. Yoji was so charming and outgoing that Omi would only have
to follow his lead. Ken was such a close friend they could practically read
each other’s thoughts. Either would have made the mission very easy for him.

But Aya. He
sneaked a glance at the redhead under his eyelashes. Aya stood still and
silent, no hint of an expression on his face. No hint of what he was thinking
or feeling. Omi had convinced himself that under that protective shell Aya was
a fully functional human being. Omi imagined long-suppressed passions and
unknown depths.

Aya arched
his eyebrow pointedly, and Omi realized he’d been caught staring. “I’m in,” Omi
squeaked.

Manx smiled
and handed them their folders. “They’re due at the resort in three days.”

*

They were
leaving in the morning, and Omi’s nerves were starting to get the best of him.
Aya was completely absorbed in preparations, detailing his car, meticulously
packing, and rereading his mission data. Omi hadn’t been able to do much more
than nod his head at the man, because he couldn’t sort out his thoughts well enough
to formulate a decent comment.

He wandered
aimlessly around the apartment for well over an hour before he found himself
hovering outside Yoji’s open door.

“What do
you want, chibi?” Yoji asked briskly, lighting a cigarette and ruffling Omi’s
hair when he appeared in the doorway.

Omi walked
inside slowly and perched on the foot of Yoji’s bed. “I have some questions . .
. about the mission.”

Yoji shook
his head, watching his hair move in the mirror. “Ask Aya, I’m still not in.”

Omi bit his lop in thought for
a moment. Sighing quietly he strengthened his resolve. “How am I supposed to
act like his boyfriend?” he sputtered, fervently hoping he hadn’t squeaked.

Yoji smiled
dly.dly. “Now I know why you came to me!” he said, planting himself on the bed
by Omi. “Dating questions I can answer.”

Omi shook
his head so hard he nearly made himself dizzy. “No! Mission!”
He waited until Yoji nodded his head in understanding. “If you’d gone with me,
you’d have been so entertaining it wouldn’t have been a big deal. But Aya,” Omi
paused to look into space and blow a tendril of hair off his forehead. “How do
I pretend to be his boyfriend if I’m afraid he’ll kill me if I so much as touch
him?”

Yoji nodded
sagely, enjoying his role in this little drama. “Leave it to me, chibi. I have
an hour before I have to start getting ready for my date, and I will take care
of everything.”

Omn>Omi gulped.

*

The trip to
the beach was beautiful, and Omi spent most of his time taking in the scenery.
Aya hadn’t spoken since they’d set out, and staring out the window was a better
option than watching Aya’s hand on the gearshift.

Taking
Yoji’s advice, Omi waited until they were thirty minutes from their destination
before he broke the silence. “Aya,” he began.

His only
acknowledgment was a small grunt from Aya.

“We need to
have a system so we know what to do around the target,” Omi said, warming to
his subject. “I thought of some nonverbal signals I thought might work, to
convince them we’re a couplbr>
br>
Aya, careful not to take his
eyes off the road for too long, still managed to arch his brow in Omi’s
direction.

Omi nodded
happily and began ticking items off his fingers. “Remember, either of us can
use these. A hug, you touch your right earlobe. A kiss, your left earlobe. To
flirt with your partner, touch your right eyebrow. Flirt with the target, left
eyebrow.” Omi continued on for nearly ten minutes, covering various parts of
his anatomy as he detailed every possible show of affection or physical action
that could be required.

Aya found
his eyes swimming and tried to blink away the mounting pressure. He kept
nodding because Omi never paused in his recitation long enough for him to
speak. By the time he realized Omi had stopped and started to open his mouth,
his chance had passed. Omi clapped his hands and pointed out the window. “We’re
here!”

*

Their suite
was magnificent. The sitting room was spacious, with oversize sofas and chairs
clustered around the television and a dining table near the windows. The
bedroom had a king size bed with piles of inviting pillows, another TV, and a
chaise lounge by the spacious balcony. Omi saved the bulk of his astonishment
for the bathroom, though. There was a separate shower enclosed in glass and a
sunken whirlpool tub that could easily fit four grown men. Everything was warm
tones of marble and gold-toned fixtures, and Omi thought it just might even be
bigger than the Koneko.

Aya, of
course, didn’t express any interest in their suite. Instead, he unpacked and
meticulously refolded every item he’d brought. Only when he was satisfied
everything was orderly did he deign to speak. “The target should be at the pool
this afternoon. We should claim an area first.”

Omi nodded
happily and pulled out his swim gear. He’d packed several things at Yoji’s insistence,
his two swimsuits included. One, a long loose pair of blue shorts, were
intended to make him look a bit younger than he was. The other pair were dark
gray with black piping down the sides of the legs. They hung low, were fitted
through the hips, and stopped midthigh. They made him look taller than he was
and enhanced his creamy skin.

Seeing Aya
pull on a pair of plain black track pants over his equally unadorned black
trunks, Omi pulled out the blue shorts and changed in the bathroom.

Downstairs,
they walked through a sculptural garden to get to the enormous swimming pool.
Green cab cabanas sheltering loungers and tables surrounded the pool, and
Jacuzzis were nestled in the back corner. Aya claimed the cabana on the end by
the path to the Jacuzzis, but farthest from the bar. Omi was thrilled to no end
that when he ordered a lemonade, he was able to sign for it and charge it to
their room. He flashed a huge smile at Aya, who only blinked back at him.

Aya ed
ed
his lounger out so only his torso was sheltered in the cabana and pulled out a
book. Omi began swimming laps, popping out every so often to drink another
lemonade in the cabana, sitting on the floor near Aya. He had to make it look
good for the mission, after all.

After an
hour, Aya tensed slightly. Omi noticed, of course, and looked toward the gate
by the towel concession. Their target had arrived.

Tsugawa
Keisuke was about 25, average looking, with line of authority already present
on his face. He gazed about him with comfort bred from power and walked with a
slow sure grace. His koi, Tanaka Kyou, on the other hand, was spectacularly
beautiful and nearly vibrating with energy. He had a broad smile on his face
and seemed to greet everyone as a possible new friend.

They walked
past the Weiss cabana, and Kyou exchanged broad smiles with Omi. Aya and
Keisuke exchanged stares. The newcomers claimed a cabana down the length of the
pool, where they could easily be seen. Within five minutes Omi and Kyou were in
the pool together, swimming laps, racing, and playing splashing games. Aya and
the target, meanwhile, would make eye contact, glance possessively at the boys
in the pool, and smirk at each other.

On
reflection it seemed to be almost too easy. Kyou and Omi became instant
friends, and Aya unbent long enough to get them invited to a private dinner in
the target’s penthouse suite.

Aya wore
black again, and Omi tried not to gape at him. He’d chosen fitted black dress
slacks and a tight black silk blend sweater that Omi desperately wanted to nuzzle.

Omi shook
his head at that. He couldn’t let Aya know what he was thinking. So, steeling
his resolve, he put on one of his Yoji-approved outfits.

Aya, of
course, blinked and arched his eyebrow when Omi emerged. He looked older than
he had before, which meant he looked 16 instead of 12. Omi wore a soft pair of
black leather pants that cradled and caressed him so well they might have been
glued to him. He’d spread a bit of shimmer across his collarbones and on his
face, just to be festive. He also wore a tight long-sleeve stretch t-shirt the
color of his eyes that ended an inch above his navel. The V-neck was accented
by his slim leather choker.

“Are you
sure you want to wear that?” Aya asked briskly.

Omi nodded.
“We are a couple, Aya. I need to look like you’d find me attractive. Now, do
you remember our signals?” Aya didn’t answer quickly enough, so Omi began
detailing them. He only stopped when Aya pulled him into the hallway.

Kyou was
wearing a short golden silk robe and sitting on the floor cradling the target’s
legs. The older man wore only a pair of silver silk pajama pants. Omi noticed
Aya’s stillness and knew he wasn’t the only one who felt overdressed.

Everything
remained friendly over their dinner, served at a low table by the windows
overlooking the sea. Aya, being the leader he was, adapted to the target’s
behavior. When Keisuke fed Kyou something, Aya was comfortable feeding Omi.
When the other man rubbed his koi’s shoulders, Aya brushed a piece of hair out
of Omi’s eyes and caressed his face.

Omi knew
Aya was mirroring the other man, but he still found it hard to concentrate. He
didn’t think Aya was usually a good actor, except when he pretended he didn’t
have feelings, but he was very convincing. He couldn’t help flushing when Aya’s
long fingers ran through his hair and touched his soft check, and he nuzzled
happily into all of his touches. He knew it was just for the mission, but what
was the harm in pretending? It wasn’t like another opportunity to be
affectionate with Aya would ever present itself.

By the time
dinner was over, Omi was glued to Aya’s side with his head on his shoulder and
his folded knees on Aya’s thigh. Omi was gazing at nothing in particular in
Aya’s lap, so he didn’t see the target lecherously in his direction. He jerked
a bit in surprise when strange cold fingers touched his neck and unconsciously
scooted closer to Aya.

Aya’s hand
grabbed the target’s wrist in an instant and held just firmly enough to be
taken seriously. Aya spoke as the man blinked in surprise. “I don’t like anyone
else to touch him,” he hesitated a moment before completing his thought, “so
soon.”

Luckily the
target seemed to accept this. “I understand. You wish to see that I treat my
koi well before I touch yours.” He rose, pulling Kyou with him. “Of course, I
would ask the same of you. My koibito is so beautiful, I must know he’ll be
treated well.”

Aya stood
and pulled Omi to his feet. This presented no small difficulty, as Omi was
glued to his side. Omi came back to himself when he realized Aya’s arms were
around his waist and pulling him close. He didn’t care what the reason was and
happily put his arms around Aya’s neck. This earned him a blink from the
redhead, so he tried to smile his encouragement.

The other
couple was moaning loudly now, their hands disappearing and reappearing around
their scant clothing. Aya seemed stuck for a moment, so Omi pulled his head
down for a kiss. It was chaste and sweet for a moment, before Aya suddenly
plundered his mouth, holding him by the back of the neck so he couldn’t break
away. Omi wriggled closer, wishing he could climb Aya like a tree.

Oh no, Oh
no! Omi opened his eyes as he realized he was getting too excited and Aya would
notice any second. He stopped squirming but didn’t stop kissing him. He didn’t
want to pull away because he’d never get to kiss Aya again. But how high could
the humiliation level be if Aya felt his true state of arousal?

Blessedly –
or not, Omi couldn’t decide – Aya pulled away, rubbing Omi’s back in long
calming strokes. Omi was fine, Aya didn’t know, and all was right with the
world. Aya looked down at him, gave one of his enigmatic half-smiles, and
patted his shoulder.

*

Mission
complete, target eliminated, and a job well done. Omi was in the enormous
marble tub, trying to remove the stubborn last few pieces of glitter. He hummed
softly, absently touching himself where Aya had.

The oiled
water was perfuming the air, and Omi leaned his head on the edge of the pool as
he danced teasing touches down his length. Only the lightest of touches and
thoughts of Aya and he was achingly hard. A small moan escaped as he finally
took himself in a firm grip and stroked slowly.

A scant
moment later Aya wandered nonchalantly into the bathroom. Omi jerked in
surprise but stayed silent. Aya went to the counter and began brushing his
hair. Omi, hoping Aya couldn’t see what he was doing, continued stroking
himself.

“We’ll
leave in the morning,” Aya said. Done with his hair, he turned toward Omi and
leaned on the counter.

Omi smiled.
“I have to admit, I’ll miss this tub.”

Aya ar
hi
his brow, sending a pointed glance toward where Omi’s hand was occupied beneath
the water. Omi eeped as his hand clenched in an automatic fear reaction. Oh
man, he was getting himself to therapy when he got home. “Have you even used
the tub?” Omi asked, hoping to distract Aya.

Aya just
shook his head and stepped closer. “You’ve been in there long enouo geo get ten
people clean.”

“You can
get in if you like.” Omi’s eyes widened as he realized what he’d just said. I can
get out and you can get in, his mind screamed, but his traitorous mouth
wouldn’t form the words.

Aya smiled
slightly and knelt by the tub. “If you were anyone else I’d take that as an
invitation.”

Was he
serious? Omi was stunned and couldn’t move. One never knew with Aya. He didn’t
sound like he was teasing, but his tone wasn’t flirtatious, either. Suddenly,
Omi had an idea. He rubbed his left earlobe.

Aya
blinked. “Is the bath oil making you itch?”

Omi giggled
madly and shook his head. “We didn’t get to use our signals on the mission. Do
you remember that one?”

That sly
smile was back as Aya leaned across the water, rested his hands on either side
of Omi’s head, and kissed him. It was brief and teasing, and Aya quickly pulled
back a bit. “Was I right?”

All right, that’s it, Omi
thought as he threw his arms around Aya and pulled him sputtering into the tub.
“You were right,” Omi said as Aya came up for air. The death glare directed at
him sent Omi barreling around the tub, Aya in pursuit. “Oi, Aya,” Omi panted,
“the water feels good, ne?”

He got no
answer before he stubbed his toe on a water jet and doubled over in pain. Aya
was surprised and bumped into Omi’s back, taking advantage and pulling him back
against him. Omi, emboldened by the situation, wiggled his hips into Aya and
looked at him over his shoulder. “You look good all wet.”

Aya looked
like he was trying very very hard to summon his death glare, but he was failing
miserably. Finally he leaned down and gently but firmly bit Omi’s left earlobe.

Omi
shuddered and rolled his hips against the taller man. “Oh, Aya,” he moaned
quietly.

Aya moaned
in response, now licking behind his ear and sucking the lobe. Suddenly Aya
tossed Omi out of the tub and climbed quickly after him. His sweater was sodden
and hanging inches lower than it had before, rivers of water streaming to
puddle on the floor.

Omi gulped
at how powerful he looked and hurried to gather some of the large fluffy
towels. He helped Aya off with his sweater, tog itg it to the ground and
pushing a towel toward Aya’s face. Aya began to dry his hair and watched as Omi
pulled down Aya’s clinging pants and turn toward Aya, towel in hand. Kneeling
on the floor, Omi was eye level with Aya’s groin.

Well hello,
Omi thought, grinning internally. Aya looked jus he he should – lean but
muscular, smooth creamy skin, and flaming red at the top. Omi gently ran his
finger from base to tip and gloried at the long shudder that wracked Aya’s
body.

Aya tossed
the towel away and pressed Omi to his back with his body. Frantically they
kissed, nibbled, bit, and suckled everything within reach, moaning and panting
as they rubbed their bodies together. Omi arched his hips into Aya, who had to
put his forehead against the cool tile to keep it together.

“Omi,” he
moaned, grasping and digging his fingers into the slight shoulders beneath him.

Flat on the
painful tiles, Omi thrust his hips up again and again, their pre-cum slicking
them as they rubbed together.

“Aya,” he
thrust.

“Nn.”
Thrust.

“Bed.”
Thrust.

“Nn,” and
Aya pulled him by his hair, surprisingly gen

They fell
to the bed, pillows flying to the floor as Aya kissed him. Aya would consume
him, and then shift and kiss him gently and delicately, as if he were fragile.

Omi looked
into Aya’s eyes and smiled shyly. Fragile, right. Although it was sweet, he
knew the gentle kisses weren’t going to get him where he wanted to go. He threw
his legs around Aya’s waist and ground into him.

Aya blinked
a few times before he was able to speak. “Omi, are you sure?”

“Aya,
please,” hntednted. “You, so long, please, want..”

The redhead
smiled with satisfaction at Omi’s obvious distraction. “Stay here,” he said,
nipping the end of Omi’s nose playfully and running into the bathroom.

When he
came out, Omi was in the center of the bed, his legs still angled toward the
bathroom. His back was arched and his eyes squeezed shut. The low light from
outside made him all golden shadows as his right hand firmly yet slowly pumped
his erection and his left hand played with his nipples.

Aya’s cock
throbbed in reaction. Omi was too beautiful to interrupt. He shook his head
ruefully. Well, almost too beaut. Pu. Putting the bottle of hand lotion on the
bedside table, he quickly drew Omi’s hand away and replaced it with his mouth.

Omi nearly
folded in half with surprise and elation. That mouth! Aya took him in to the
base and was moaning. Omi felt it everywhere! He flopped back on the mattress
and grabbed handfuls of Aya’s silky hair. “Oh Aya,” he said, writhing further
into his mouth.

On his
knees, Aya was playing a game to see how many different sounds he could bring
from Omi’s mouth. He didn’t have a lot of experience, but more than Omi and he
was going to use every last bit. Whenever Omi made a good sound Aya would
ruthlessly revisit the same area. His tongue teased, curled, licked and fondled
in time with his hands, which were cupping Omi’s balls. Omi was very close, but
Aya stopped him so he could take his balls in his mouth and trail gently behind
them with his fingertips. Teasingly, he ran his fingers back to Omi’s tight
entrance, earning him a hiccup of surprise from the smaller boy.

He decided
to end Omi’s torment for the time being and took him back into his mouth. Six
bobs later and Omi exploded in his mouth, calling his name and coming to rest
with great shuddering breaths.

Aya lay
back among the surviving pillows and pulled Omi with him, stroking his
sweat-soaked hair. Omi nuzzled into his neck, his hand rubbing up and down his
chest in continually longer sweeps.

It took ten
sweeps before Omi’s hand bumped evidence of his effect on Aya. He blinked for a
moment before realizing he’d selfishly allowed Aya to please him but had done
nothing in return. At the moment he was very interested in doing something.

He grabbed
Aya’s purple-tipped cock firmly, tugged it gently, and met Aya’s gaze. “We
should do something about this, ne?”

Aya grunted and stilled Omi’s
hand. “We can wait, Omi. I don’t want to rush you.”

“I want
to.”

“But aren’t
you a v…”

Omi nodded
and kissed Aya to shut him up. “I trust you not to hurt me any more than
necessary. And I want to. Really really want to. With you, Aya,” he finished
quietly.

Aya
swallowed over the sudden lump in his throat and nodded. “Lie down.”

Omi obeyed,
holding his arms up in invitation. Aya began worshipping him with his lips. Omi
nearly cried at the escalating sensations and feelings Aya summoned with each
reverent touch.

Finally the
familiar spiral reappeared. Moaning, growling, touching, tasting, Omi lost
himself in the wonder of it. Only when Aya’s slick finger entered him did he
come to his senses. He looked down at Aya, whose gaze held pure reassurance.
Aya’s mouth on his urgently weeping cock was enough to make him forget the
finger, and Aya was able to add a second without even a murmur from Omi. He
thrust, spread and scissored his fingers, and was rewarded by Omi’s gently
rolling hips.

Only when
Omi was panting and thrusting back onto Aya’s fingers did he add his third
finger. Omi squirmed for a moment, lay still, and then began working himself
deeply down onto Aya’s fingers.

“Oh please,
please Aya. Want you,” Omi grunted, rolling his hope. “Want you inside me now.”

Aya nodded and coated himself
with a thick coating of lotion. Omi gazed dreamily up at him. Aya leaned down
to consume him with kisses and worked Omi with his hand e gee gently worked the
head of his cock in. with the first pop of muscle signaling Omi’s acceptance of
him, he stilled his hips and tried to kiss Omi senseless. Omi groaned, in pain
or pleasure Aya wasn’t sure, and the overwhelming pressure and heat nearly did
Aya in then and there.

Only when
Omi’s body quieted did Aya press in, a gentle slow slide through excruciating
velvety texture and tight heat. After what felt like hours he was fully seated,
and he waited for any signal from Omi that he was ready.

Omi’s hips
tipped once, twice, three times and he whimpered in frustration. “Aya, take
me,” he whined, linking his ankles behind Aya and pulling their hips together.
They both instantly lost their breath and Aya pounded into Omi twice in
reaction.

“Omi saw
stars and howled, scraping his nails down Aya’s back and biting his shoulder.
“Do that again!” he demanded.

Aya didn’t
feel like disobeying a direct order when he agreed with it, so he pulled back
and thrust back in. He ground his hips into Omi’s and growled in satisfaction
at the sensations.

“Please,
Aya. Fuck me.”

That was
it. Aya broke Omi’s leg lock on his hips and put his legs over his arms so he
could get closer. He set a pounding rhythm, his balls slapping loudly against
Omi’s smooth skin. Back and forth, in and out, Omi breathlessly panting beneath
him. Every time Aya hit his prostate his eyes would blink open and he’d groan
Aya’s name.

“Nn, so
good,” Omi gasped as Aya pounded him toward the headboard.

Aya put his
arms above Omi’s shoulders to keep him from bumping his head. Their bodies
glistened with sweat and slid easily against one another as Aya continued his
blistering pace.
- 1
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The Suite