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On The Run	By : JetMykles Category: Weiß Kreuz > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 3314 -:- 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
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"On The Run"

Fan fic by Jet Mykles

Rated R for this part. Whole fic together is NC-17

This one contains language an implied sexual situations

I don't own or claim the boys of Weiß Kreuz. I merely admire them greatly.

This takes place right after my other fic, Night Out.

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It was
inevitable, of course. Any assassin would know that. One couldn’t stay in one
place too long or one got caught.

Killed.

Aya told himself
that as he packed the bag that was always half full. His other bag was still
packed from the previous night, still sitting downstairs where Omi had left it.
He’d known that they probably wouldn’t be able to stay where they were for long
but… But this time he’d allowed himself to hope, to think that maybe things
would calm down enough for him to enjoy life a little.

Ha! Not in the
cards for Ran Fujimiya.

He ran through
plans in his head as he rushed down the stairs. Money wasn’t an issue. They
each had at least four IDs with passports and two off-shore banking accounts. Through
force of habit and self-preservation, he had at least two stockpiles of cash
hidden away off-site and was confident that the others had their own stashes.
They would leave their cell phones. They’d have to contact Krittiker through
different means.

He met Ken in the
main room. The athlete was bent over his own bags, green sweatshirt tied about
his slim waist and beat-up leather jacket over his t-shirt. His goggles lay
hung like a necklace from his throat. "Are we going overboard?" Ken asked
calmly, brown eyes level and serious.

"Maybe. You
willing to risk it?"

Ridiculous
question. Ken didn’t bother to answer it.

Omi and Yohji
appeared at the same time, nearly silent as they rushed down the stairs. During
the past few months, all four of them had grown careless, walking and moving
around like normal people. Aya was gratified to see that it didn’t take much to
pick up old habits.

Yohji carried a
wad of paper towels, indicating that he, like the rest of them, would have
wiped down most of the available surfaces of his bedroom. "I’m going to miss
this place." He sighed, dumping the towels in the wastebasket by the door. His
long, mission coat was draped over one arm. Black jeans and a black midriff
hugged his lean frame, the only mar in the lines being the pack of cigarettes
and the lighter stashed in one front pocket. The watch that was much more
encircled his slim wrist.

"No help for it,"
Aya said, shouldering his bags and holding tight to his katana. He tossed his
keys to Ken. "You and Omi take the Porshe. Ditch it when you can."

Ken caught them,
but frowned. "I was going to take the bike."

"Fine, then Omi
should take the car. You two will need it." At their twin frowns, he sighed. "I
assume you are going together?"

Unbelievably,
that thought seemed to just dawn on them. Fine. He didn’t wish to take the time
to sort out their affair. He shook his head and turned to Yohji. A moment of
sheer panic threatened to blind him as looked up into those emerald green eyes.
It was entirely possible that Yohji wouldn’t stick with him. Yohji was
perfectly capable of taking care of himself, of seeing to his own needs. Perhaps
more capable than Aya in the long run. They didn’t have to leave
together. But Aya couldn’t fathom being without the blond.

Reassurance came
in the form of a suggestive smile on those gorgeous lips as Yohji lowered his
familiar glasses to cover green eyes. "And we’re taking the Seven, I assume?"

Aya beat down his
own grin, determined to remain cool. He nodded. "But we have to get rid of it
as soon as possible."

Yohji sighed,
tossing his coat over his shoulder and bending to pick up his two bags. "I
know. I was so hoping to keep this one though."

"Baka," Aya
grumbled, turning for the back door.

Yohji was only a
few steps behind him. "We’ll be in touch in a week, yeah?" he called to the
other two.

Aya glanced back
to seem them nod then pushed out the door.

--*--

Omi watched Aya
leave with Yohji at his heels, each of them glowing briefly as they passed
through a square of morning light streaming across the kitchen. Horrible foreboding
told him that he might not see them again. He bit his lip.

A comforting arm
slid around his shoulders. He gave in to the luxury of folding himself in Ken’s
arms.

"It’s okay, Omi.
We’re probably taking this way too seriously."

Omi nodded.

Ken pressed the
keys to Aya’s Porshe into Omi’s hands. "We should get going."

Omi stared at the
keys. It made sense. His little car wouldn’t have the pickup to speed them away
if necessary. But he was supposed to drive alone? Panic speared his heart.
"Ken."

"Yeah."

"Come with me in
the car."

Ken frowned,
shoving his bag up on his shoulder. "But the Yamaha…"

"Please, Ken. I
don’t think it’s a good idea that we’re separated."

"Why not?"

Frustrated,
scared, Omi gathered the lapels of Ken’s leather jacket in his hands and hauled
the taller assassin to him. "I just got you, Ken. I couldn’t stand it if I lost
you."

Ken’s arms went
around him, a reassuring smile curving his lips. "You’re not going to lose me.
I’ll be right there with you."

Omi shook his
head. "Please, Ken."

Ken swallowed.

Outside, the
Seven roared to life. They stared into each other’s eyes, listening to their
companions drive off into the morning.

Finally, Ken
reached up to brush a single tear from Omi’s cheek. A tear he hadn’t felt
shedding.

Ken smiled.
"Okay, Omi. Whatever you say."

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