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Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained	By : KDSarge Category: Weiß Kreuz > General Views: 6318 -:- 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
- 16
- 17
- 18
This
chapter of hopefully hot sex is dedicated to the chibi. (hmm,
somehow that just seems wrong. Happy belated birthday anyway,
moimoi-chan!)

Intervention

“Omi,”
Yohji typed, irritated he had to betray he knew a computer as more
than a big paperweight, “this is stupid. Let us out.”

“No,”
appeared in the IM box.

Yohji
glanced at Aya’s reflection in the screen, still sitting in the
couch reading. When he’d reached the end of the book, the
redhead had simply turned back to the beginning. He must have tried
reasoning with Omi while Yohji was asleep, or he would have been in
on this try.

There
was one thing that might work. “Are you alone? Honest answer,
Omittchi.”

“Yes.
Aya-chan is doing homework and Ken is–well, you can hear him.”

He
could. Ken was bouncing that damn soccer ball above the only basement
window. The window was barred, or he’d already have broken it.

The
window was barred, or small as it was, Yohji would have been out it,
and strangling Ken. This time he had his watch.

“Don’t
do this to Aya,” Yohji typed. “I know why you locked us
down here, but you don’t know everything. Let him be. Convince
Aya-chan to find someone good enough for him.”

“Why
not you?”

“Come
on, Omittchi.” Yohji hated to reveal he was a good typist, but
wheedling could not be abbreviated. And he had to do this before Aya
came to see if he was getting anywhere. Quickly but with deliberate
typos, Yohji sent all the reasons he told himself, when he had to
remember why he didn’t want to seek Aya out, why he shouldn’t
flirt with the man, why he couldn’t just walk over and wrap his
arms around the moody redhead.

Che.
For the second time in his life Kudou Yohji was trying to be noble,
and the brats weren’t making it any easier.

Omi
didn’t answer. Yohji asked if he was there, and got nothing.
Yohji lost his temper, and forgot to put in typos as he explained
just why smartass little chibis ought to keep their noses out of
grown-up business. If the kuso gaki wasn’t even going to pay
attention–

“Why
don’t you tell that to Aya-kun?” the box said. Then Omi’s
icon went to “stepped out.” Not even “be right
back.” K’so!

“Ken
usually keeps a magazine or two under the cushion on that couch,”
Aya said behind him. Yohji growled and closed the IM window and went
to look.

No
magazine. A brand new tube of lube, but no magazine. Yohji thumped
the cushion down and sat on it. Quickly. Aya looked at him with one
red eyebrow raised.

“They
were thorough.”

Meaning
the lack of magazine, Kudou! He hoped. Though if Aya had seen the
lube, and taken it that calmly–no way. Aya had not seen it.
Yohji sighed and flopped sideways, threw his legs over one end of the
couch.

“Now
will you play me for the book?”

“Can
you read French?”

“I’ll
look at the pictures.”

The
side of Aya’s mouth jumped. It might have wanted to be a smile,
but he stopped it. Yohji wished he hadn’t. Then again, it was
better if he didn’t see the redhead smile.

Che.
Che, k’so, and chikusho. This sucked. Even worse than waking up
in Hawaii. At least there he’d been on the beach, and drunk,
and–umm, a lot?–of kilometers away from the untouchable
redhead, and Schu had turned out to be the best drinking buddy Yohji
had ever–literally–stumbled over. He wondered how the
German was doing, teaching Bradley fucking Crawford not to mess with
Mastermind.

He
really hoped Schu was sticking it right up that tightass bastard’s–

“Do
you understand French?” Aya asked.

“Urp?”
Yohji asked, shaking disturbing images out of his head.

“Do
you understand French? The only way to share is if I read to you.”

“I’d
like that.”

The
redhead flipped back to the beginning of the book. After a few pages
he flipped back once more, and read, then translated. Yohji started
laughing in the right places. Who would have thought Aya read
comedies, even in French?

Damn,
he was staring again. Probably all sweet and dreamy-eyed, too. Good
thing Aya was too absorbed in translating on the fly from French to
Japanese.

And
Omi had to ask why Aya deserved better than Kudou Yohji,
drunken idiot?

Sober
idiot right now. Damn it. Ken could have given him a six-pack. Maybe
he could have got Aya to drink a few, and–

Bad
idea, Kudou. He got up and brought Aya a soda, reading aloud had to
be dehydrating. Then he opened the window and lit a cigarette, leaned
on the wall while he listened.

Three
cigarettes and too much enjoying of Aya’s voice later, the
computer chirped, that cheery little noise that meant Omi had come
back. Aya ignored it, Yohji tried. But it chimed a message, and
chimed again. Yohji went to accept the chat.

“Told
you,” Ken said. It was back to video, with all three of them.
“No progress, just them being difficult.”

“Ran-niisan,”
Aya-chan said, “come to the computer. Unless you want to make
this a stubbornness contest?”

“Please
don’t!” Omi gasped, then winced from the look Aya-chan
shot him. Yohji chuckled.

“Don’t
let him treat you like that, Princess,” he said. Mistake, she
turned an F3 on the webcam. It would have been an F4 if she’d
been in the same room. Aya stepped beside Yohji.

“What
is it now?”

Omi
nodded at his confederates, then glanced at his notes. Notes?

“Yohji-kun,
do you know what an intervention is?”

“Nande?
I haven’t been drunk in–”

“This
is another kind. Since–separately, of course!–the two of
you have figured out why you are locked in the basement, we’re
going to move on. Aya-chan, would you like to start?”

“Hai!
Yohji-kun! Are you aware Ran thinks you and that orange-haired man
are lovers?”

“Nani?”

“I
can’t imagine why. Maybe because you ran off to Hawaii with
him?”

“Aya-kun,”
Omi said, “are you aware Yohji believes you think he’s
stupid?”

“Nande?”

“Maybe
because you call him an idiot all the time?”

“Yohji-kun–have
you explained why my brother ended up in handcuffs that
night?”

“Aya-chan!”

“Quit
babying me!” She leaned on the table. “He was protecting
you from yourself, Ran, you said so. And I talked to that Mamiko. Am
I an infant? He was being noble, you–you–“

”Temee,”
Omi finished for her.

“Thank
you.”

“You’re
welcome. Aya-kun, you’re aware Yohji has trouble sleeping. Have
you noticed him dropping off next to you at least once a day since he
stopped being out all night?”

“And
Yohji-kun, have you noticed that Ran is always there when you
wake up?”

“Don’t
you see, Yohji, that when you laugh, Aya almost smiles? Even when
Aya-chan’s not around?”

“Ran-niisan,
are you aware that Yohji-kun has stopped drinking completely, there
wasn’t any alcohol in that refrigerator when Ken-kun took it?”

“Yohji-kun,
do you know that Aya-kun is ashamed of the way he ‘mistreated’
you the night you went clubbing?”

“What!?!”

“Do
you think that’s enough?” Aya-chan asked Omi. He shook
his head.

“I
doubt it, they’re pretty dense. But I’m out of notes.
Ken-kun?”

“If
it’s not enough,” Ken said with an evil smile, “we’re
going to my plan.”

“Hai!”
Aya-chan and Omi said together. The evil smile spread to two more
faces. Omi cleared his throat.

“Very
well. If you have an emergency in the night, bang on the ceiling, I’m
sleeping in the living room. Good night, gentlemen.”

The
window went to some cutesy screensaver. With ducks. Yohji sank into
the chair. Aya thought he and Schu–

Aya
had walked across the room, now he came back to the window. “Coming,
Yohji?”

He
started to ask where, but Aya was–yes, he was smiling. Not just
any smile either, that was the mischievous sneak smile! Yohji jumped
up.

“Hai!”

***

“Kudou
Yohji does not do grocery shopping,” Kudou Yohji muttered,
after Aya was safely out of earshot.

Out
of earshot hell, Aya was out of the parking lot! Yohji’s
thoughts flitted to what Crawford had done to Schu, but he shook his
head. Aya would not do that. There was a reason for this, and Aya
would share it when he was ready. Just as he’d shared the way
out of the basement when he was ready. Really, Omi ought to know
those bars had a latch...

And
really. This plan had been cooked up in that dirty mind Aya had
revealed in the back–and front–seat of the Seven. Yohji
didn’t care what it was, he was all for it.

So he
took the list and the yen and went shopping.

***

“Aya–“
Yohji began for the hundredth time. And for the hundred and fifteenth
time–fifteen times he’d started with ‘temee’
rather than ‘Aya’–the redhead cut him off.

“Start
a fire, Yohji. I’ll put the groceries away.”

Kudou
Yohji stomped into the living room of Villa Weiss and grumbled some
more. If he didn’t get laid in the next fifteen minutes, damn
it, he was going to do the jumping and to hell with Aya’s plans
and–

Patience,
he reminded himself again. As he’d learned on countless
missions, Aya’s plans were worth waiting for. But damn it, the
anticipation was killing him, as well as the niggling fear that he
was still misunderstanding the redhead, that this wasn’t
what he thought, that they hadn’t run off to the mountains to
have uninterrupted wild monkey sex, they were only here to get away
from obnoxious, over-bearing, basement-locking housemates...

Kami-sama,
if that were true, he was crying. Right in front of Aya. And then he
was going to get really, incredibly, mind-bogglingly drunk, and see
if he could find his way to–

“Yohji.”
Aya held out a cup of coffee. Good, he had tea for himself, he wasn’t
planning on either of them sleeping soon–Yohji took the cup,
Aya sank onto the rug next to him. So far so good–

“Tell
me about Hawaii,” Aya said.

“Che.”
Yohji sipped. Perfect, when had Aya learned to make coffee? “I
don’t remember much. I’ll never get there again and all I
can tell you is the sun was bright.”

“Why
were you there, Yohji?”

“It...”
hell. Yohji rubbed the back of his head. “It seemed like a good
idea at the time.” Why didn’t Aya just ask if he had
slept with Schu?

Because
Aya wouldn’t. Aya would not think it was any of his business.
No matter what it meant to him.

“Schu
swore it was my idea, but damned if I know. I think I remember going
to Narita to drink and watch the planes take off, and the next thing
I knew I was in a hotel bed in Hawaii.” He forced a chuckle,
staring into the fire. “That bastard tried to make me think we
slept together, but no matter how drunk I was, I wouldn’t do
that.”

“You
seemed...very close...on the flight back.”

This
time his chuckle was real. “That was to annoy Crawford. He’s
a bastard and a half, Aya, you wouldn’t believe what he did to
Schu. And they have their own contingency system, he poisoned Schu
somehow. That’s the only reason he got Schu back, is he was
unconscious when Crawford showed up.”

“Schuldig
was unconscious and you let him live?”

“I...even
called Crawford to come and help him.” Yohji closed his eyes,
not wanting to see the reaction to that. Damn, damn, he was such an
idiot...

“Kami-sama,
Kudou,” Aya growled, “who ever let you into the
professional assassin club?”

“N-nani?”
Yohji’s head whipped around, yes, there was that smile again!
“Fujimiya, did you just make a joke?”

“Note
it down in the record books.”

“Two!
In one day!”

Aya
snorted and hitched closer to the fire, his face grew serious again.
“Yohji...I don’t think you’re stupid. You do things
that look stupid to me, but it’s because you see things
differently.”

“Really?”

“Really.”
The redhead tilted his head, looking at him sideways out of those
incredible eyes. “Taking me home from the club, for instance.
If it had been you acting like that, I would have left you there.”

“Aya...you
will never know how hard it was to resist you, but I was sure–“

”Do
you think?” Aya interrupted, and oh wow the heat in his eyes...
“Do you think I don’t know how hard it is, to resist
touching something I want so much it hurts? To turn away from
something so beautiful it–he–takes my breath away? To
keep from grabbing him–you–and shoving you up against the
wall and–“

Yohji
shivered, Aya cut off, looked away.

“Don’t
stop!” Yohji set his coffee cup aside. Far aside. “What–what
would you do to me, against that wall, Aya?”

“Let’s...”
Aya exhaled slowly, “Let’s not start there.” His
eyes came back to Yohji. “Let’s start–on a rug.”

Yohji
did not look at the rug they sat on. “I can picture it.”

“First,”
Aya said, moving closer, “I would lean close, breathe you
in...” he inhaled, “and tell you how very beautiful you
are. How your eyes sparkling make me want to laugh, how the shape of
your face makes me breathe faster, how your lips–“

Yohji
licked those lips. “What?”

“Make
me want–need–to touch...them...” Aya brushed his
lips across Yohji’s, softly, twice, drew back and went on, “how
your jaw cries out to be adored,” little kisses, from Yohji’s
chin to below his ear, “how when I think about,” he
breathed, so softly even there Yohji could barely hear him, “your
ears...”

“What
about my ears?” Besides the fact he was tingling with Aya’s
breathing in one...Yohji sat still, afraid to break the spell, oh
wow, this was–no one had ever talked to him like–

“They
are perfect,” Aya kissed, and nibbled, and breathed, “for
whispering naughty thoughts into, making you hot and hard and horny
before I–“ he nudged with his shoulder, Yohji lay back,
Aya followed to lean over him, “–before I lie you down
and do every single thing I said.”

Oh
shit, Yohji needed some blood back in his brain or he was going to
pass out, how could Aya do this to him? Aya, the innocent, doing this
to the great Kudou Yohji?

“And...and
after you said those things?” Was he stuttering? Again?

Aya
smiled. Yohji shivered. “After...I’m torn. I might...”
he eased down, Yohji grabbed him and pulled, “kiss you...”

God...Yohji
moaned, lips and teeth and tongue and Aya and his hands in
that glorious hair and that perfect body against him and Aya
and his head was spinning and he needed to breathe and damn it he
didn’t want to, breathing was overrated...

Aya
gave a last tiny nip at Yohji’s lips and pulled away, then
laughed–Aya laughed, Kami-sama how beautiful–and
wiped his mouth with his forearm. Yohji smirked, things had gotten a
little wet.

Other
things had gotten incredibly hard.

But
Aya was just looking at him. Like–like a kid on Christmas
morning, who’d just unwrapped the best present ever and he
wasn’t going to let it out of his sight, it was his, forever,
and no one else was going to play with it, ever...

God
if he was thinking that...!

“What–what
else might you do?”

One
red eyebrow quirked. “If I decided not to just kiss you
forever,” that rich voice said, “I might...” his
hands slid under Yohji, and up the back of his shirt, “...touch
every centimeter of skin you ever showed me when I couldn’t
touch...” He rolled, and lifted until Yohji pulled his knees up
to kneel across the redhead. Aya pushed his shirt up slowly,
whispering how beautiful his navel was, how the jut of Yohji’s
hips above the low-slung pants made him want to give them hickeys,
maybe put his name right there below Yohji’s ribs...his fingers
traced every rib, brushed lightly over Yohji’s nipples, making
him shiver again...Aya sat up to pull the shirt over Yohji’s
head, sliding his hands up Yohji’s arms, his fingers sliding
into Yohji’s as he pushed the fabric over Yohji’s hands,
then he slid that light touch back down and around and pulled Yohji
against him–

“Iya!”
Yohji protested. Aya jerked away, Yohji yanked him back. “Not
you, the damn sweater, Aya!”

Aya
leaned back, stripped off the orange sweater before Yohji could.
“Better?”

“Hai!”

“Good.”
Aya yanked Yohji close again, stared into his eyes a long moment,
then dropped his gaze to Yohji’s neck. Oh, last time he looked
like that–

He
did it again, light scrape of teeth, tickle of tongue, then soft lips
and suction and Yohji couldn’t help writhing, clamped his hands
in gorgeous hair so Aya would know it was because he loved it, oh God
did he love it, and Aya was so hard, and he was so hard–Yohji
rocked, Aya grabbed his hips and held him still.

“Patience,”
the redhead murmured against his neck, then went lower, nibbles and
kisses and teases of tongue and all Yohji could do was hold on and
pant and oh God where did Aya learn that?

“Next
time!” he gasped out. “I’ll be patient next time!”

Aya
chuckled against his ribs, how could he bend like that– “Be
good, Yohji,” tiny nip of teeth, then tongue, “and I’ll
give you a present.”

Oh
God, Aya talking like that! “I like presents...”

“You’ll
love this one,” Aya promised, straightening to nibble Yohji’s
lips as he tugged at his legs until the blonde wrapped them around
Aya’s waist. “And when I...” Aya breathed,
“...couldn’t resist any more,” he kissed Yohji
breathless again, like he had far to go, “I would touch...”
one-handed again, he unfastened Yohji’s jeans carefully, his
other hand squeezing Yohji’s ass, “...what you never
shared with me before.”

“Ungh!”
Yohji threw his head back, oh God he should have known, the hands of
a swordsman! The perfect grip, the callouses...

“Beautiful,”
Aya murmured. “I’ve always wanted to see you like this,
Yohji.” He stroked again, Yohji moaned and quivered. Aya took
them sideways, gently lowered Yohji to the rug before he stroked
again. The blonde moaned again. “That’s it,” Aya
whispered, stroking with a little twist at the end. “Just feel,
you are so good at that,” kisses down Yohji’s chest, “you
make me feel,” tongue-flick at a nipple, aahh! “even the
ice princess can–”

“I’m...oohhh!...sorry...for...ungghh
–”

“It
was true.” Aya licked a spot wet on Yohji’s ribs, then
blew on it. “You saved me, Yohji. There wouldn’t have
been any of Ran left when Aya-chan woke, if it weren’t for
you.”

God,
he wanted to treasure that, but he couldn’t think– “Aya,
promise me...”

“We
can’t make promises,” Aya said, and his voice was sorry.

“Nnngghh!
Not that–ahhh!–promise you’ll–oh fuck,
Aya!–you’ll say that again when I can listen...”

“Hai,”
Aya murmured, and nibbled at Yohji’s hip. “But now–“
Yohji forced his eyes open to meet that evil grin, “just shut
up, Yohji.” And he ran that pointy little tongue up–

“A-YA!!”

“Better
than the chocolates,” Aya murmured, and did it again.

“Oi,
those were–errrrr!–expensive–“

“Better,”
Aya insisted, and that perfect mouth sucked Yohji–

“Urnnghh!”
he moaned again. “Aya, Aya, oh, fuck, Aya–“

”Marvelous
idea,” and Yohji’s pants vanished, finally, and he was
right, he was going to be uke and he couldn’t wait...

“I’m
sorry,” Aya gasped, as a cold wet finger slipped inside, Yohji
squeaked, “Yohji, I’m sorry, I wanted to make it last,
but–“

”Baka!
Ngghh! We can do it–“ another finger, another squeak,
“–do it again!”

“All
night,” Aya promised. “And tomorrow, and tomorrow night,
and–“

”And
now!” Yohji yelped. “Will you shut up and–AYA!”

“Tell
me how to fuck,” Aya muttered with that evil grin, and brushed
that spot again. Yohji jerked and gasped. “Yohji, you’re
so beautiful...” the fingers vanished, wet hands grabbed
Yohji’s hips. “Come here, I want you–“

”Want
you too!” Yohji gasped, planting his knees on either side of–

“Take
it slow–“

”I
know what I’m doing!” Hot and hard brushed him, Yohji
threw his head back, “Fuck, Aya!”

“Not
yet, I’m not even in...”

“Smartass
little–aahhh!”

“Little?”
Aya asked.

“Big!”
Yohji gasped, dropping his head on Aya’s shoulder.
“Nngh–gimme–gimme a second–not used to this
end–“

”You
can stay there forever,” Aya whispered, careful fingers
brushing blonde hair from his eyes. “I can’t believe
you’re there at all, Yohji, I don’t deserve–“

”Baka!”
Yohji eased down, oh shit, that was good– “Don’t,
Aya, don’t you dare–ahhh!”

“You,”
Aya murmured, kissing his forehead. “You think there’s
something here worth saving.”

“Baka...”

“Same
to you.”

“Aya,
move!”

“You’re
sure?”

“MOVE!”

“Yes...”
One solid arm went around Yohji, the other hand grasped his erection,
and Aya moved, and rocked, and stroked, and whispered,
“...beautiful...perfect...Yohji...feel so...“

”Motto,
Aya!”

“Easy,
Yohji, you’ll–

“Don’t...nngh!!...care!
Harder!” Yohji grabbed Aya’s shoulders and drove himself
down, threw his head back with a deep moan. Aya gasped and rocked him
harder, and oh God– “Yes! Aya, oh, fuck, Aya, Aya–“
now, he couldn’t hold on any more, his body exploded and
his mind followed, oh fuck, oh shit, oh wow...

“Yohji!”
Aya shouted, slamming Yohji to his chest as he exploded too, and oh,
damn was that...oh just...wow...Yohji let his head fall back to Aya’s
shoulder.

“Wow...”

“Hn.”
Carefully Aya eased him to the rug, then–vanished!

“Ayan!
Where are you going?”

“You’re
a mess, Yohji.”

“Don’t
care...”

But
Aya was back in a minute, with a washcloth, a warm towel, and a
blanket. Yohji snuggled up to him, this time Aya snuggled back. Yohji
raised his head to grin into those incredible eyes.

“I
win.”

“Your
silly bet?”

Yohji
brushed back sweat-soaked red hair. “Everything.”

*********

I
really hope you liked it.
- 16
- 17
- 18
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Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained