Adult-FanFiction.org : Anime

Mine Fields	By : psyca Category: Weiß Kreuz > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 2745 -:- 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
- 2
- 3
Chapter 2

The shop was quiet this afternoon, a few corporate arrangements sitting in the cooler, another slowly forming under his deft hands. For the third time.

Aya's eyes landed on the other occupant of the shop. Yohji was watering with a small can, lithe body slowly moving at a lazy gait. While it would seem to the outside observer that he was simply dragging out his task to avoid something more unpleasant, Aya knew better. It took a long time for the knife-like pain of cracked ribs to heal.

It had only been three weeks since that awful mission. The evening had replayed in a continuous loop in Aya's brain for a while: the smooth way he got in and out, the awful alarms when Yohji set his ill-conceived distraction, the waiting at the rendezvous, the waiting at the Koneko, the intense drama of Yohji's bloody entrance, and the agony of waiting while the blonde lay unconscious.

Of course, that had been followed by the delicious agony of sleeping beside the man while he finally slept a restful sleep.

He'd been watching over the wounded man since then, cataloging every wince, gasp, and stiff movement. For a while he could use the excuse of helping the blonde as he regained mobility. Once that had been accomplished, he found himself having to be more discrete.

Aya only acknowledged two categories of people: those to be tolerated, and those labeled 'mine.' The 'mine' category was remarkably small, consisting of his sister, and his parents before that. His subconscious spent a great deal of time feeling strongly about those labeled 'mine,' while his conscious mind rationalized why those to be tolerated should stay where they are.

Yohji had somehow been claimed as 'mine.' No logical argument whatsoever lead to the release of his hostage feelings for the blonde. It was really quite. . . disturbing.

And yet, aside from Yohji's maddening casual touches, nothing had changed. Yes, he admitted something to Yohji with that kiss. But he'd be dammed if he'd talk about it. He didn't handle emotional conflict well. He could face a dozen gunmen armed with a sword, but nothing ever came right out of his mouth.

Yohji seemed to take this in stride, keeping the closeness of their quiet friendship without pushing the boundaries further. Which was even more frustrating.

He wanted the man. But there were promises to be kept, and walls he could not breach, regardless of how much they groaned with the strain.

Contemplations of this sort had ruined the first arrangement of the day.

The second met its end while he surreptitiously watched Yohji flirt with their one morning customer, a beautiful perfumed woman in heels.

Apparently his subconscious was jealous too.

Dammit, he was supposed to have more control than this. Fujimiya Aya did not do 'conflicted.'

Aya breathed deeply, not wanting to ruin a third arrangement. It wasn't good to waste the flowers. He pushed all his emotions aside, drawing on that center of calm that got him through the pressures of missions, and life in general, without screaming in frustration.

He was awarded just enough peace to finish his arrangement. He was just putting the finished piece on the counter to be bagged when the faintest grunt met his ears. Yohji had put the watering can down on the counter, a hand unconsciously touching his wounded side. A knit of pain sat between his eyebrows, so slight only a trained observer would notice.

Almost as if he sensed Aya's eyes on him, he straightened and glided over in that careful gait.

All of Aya's calm dissolved as the taller man approached. The nerves down the side where Yohji leaned so close to him stood to attention, tingling at the proximity. Aya crushed the urge to touch the man, settling for inhaling his intoxicating scent instead.

He had to put himself in order for everyone who was counting on him.

"Nice, Aya." Eyes twinkled. "Third time's the charm, eh?"

Aya glowered at the jibe, and swiftly brought a plastic bag around the arrangement, tying it securely with a band.

Yohji laid a hand on his shoulder, and Aya worked hard not to lean into the touch.

"Are you okay?"

That was a loaded question. Especially from the source of his conflict.

"Fine," he grumbled lowly, taking the arrangement to the cooler. He flashed his eyes back onto the blonde as he leaned in to place the flowers among their fellows.

"You should be sitting down."

That infuriating smirk that hid too much spread across Yohji's face.

"Doncha worry about me. I'm ready to go."

Aya raised an eyebrow as he closed the cooler. The smirk firmly stayed in place, a slight warning in the gaze above it.

Stubborn man. There was no way he was ready for anything. Good thing there wasn't-

The shop bell rang, expensive red heels clicking on the linoleum.

"Mission. Close up."

Aya cursed silently.

~*~

"So," Manx said in her serious tone. "Who will take the mission?"

Aya took a mission envelope wordlessly, surprised she even asked.

"I'm in," said Omi.

Ken grunted his agreement, taking a packet for himself.

"I'm in too," said Yohji.

Aya found himself grasping the envelope before Yohji could take it from Manx's hand.

"No, you're not."

Yohji's eyes narrowed, emerald flashing at the challenge.

"Back off, Aya."

"Abyssinian, Balinese is ready to go back on duty."

Aya didn't bother looking at the woman as he responded, eyes locked on Yohji's. Emotions bubbled beneath the surface of his gaze, but he kept them buried.

"According to?"

"He's assured me that he's ready."

Aya's eyes narrowed. Swiftly, he reached out his hand, placed it against Yohji's ribcage, and squeezed. Yohji jerked back, cursing under his breath.

Manx's eyebrows shot up sharply.

"Balinese?"

"I said I was fine," Yohji gritted out between clenched teeth.

"I disagree with your judgment. You'll sit this one out."

Yohji glared fiercely at Aya, who kept his cool facade even though the hurt and anger in those eyes cut him deeply. He said nothing as he left the mission room, arm wrapped unconsciously around his lithe frame.

Aya tried not to think about how his palm tingled from the brief touch.

~*~

He was buckling the last strap on his mission coat when Yohji appeared in his doorway. The former playboy filled the doorway, his whipcord body thrumming with tension. Aya found it hard to breathe.

"What the fuck, Aya!"

Aya only could see Yohji by looking out of the corner of his eye. Yohji's presence was causing those buried emotions to bubble and boil beneath the surface. He breathed deeply, setting his jaw. Yohji took a step towards him.

"I know my own limits. You had no right to interfere."

Aya continued to breathe deeply, trying to quell the storm brewing inside. He clenched his jaw tighter as he reached for his sword.

"I mean, sure, I'm a bit sore still, but who the fuck wouldn't be after getting the crap kicked out of them. You need me on this mission. It's suicidal for the three of you to take down eight targets!"

Aya made to push past him before the tension in the room overwhelmed him. He was already feeling lightheaded at the effort of holding back.

Yohji grabbed his arm with a snarl.

"Dammit, Aya, I deserve a fucking answer! Can't deal with the great fuck-up Kudoh Yohji?!"

Something burst inside Aya like a thousand flames rushing through his blood. He was filled with rage, frustration, and a wash of something cold he couldn't name, all warring within. He lashed out, slamming Yohji against the wall with his sword and holding the gasping man there. He barely recognized his own voice as words were ripped from his gut.

"I refuse to hold another bedside vigil."

He catalogued the stunned look in the blonde's gaze briefly before leaving the room in a whorl of leather. His thoughts spun in frenetic circles all the way to the mission site, until Abyssinian forced it all to the background and prepared to kill.

~*~

Pulling into the garage at the Koneko was like waking from a nightmare. The mission was filled with a deluge of blood. Images of Aya-chan lying still and cold flashed through his vision repeatedly, driving and deviling him all at once.

The kills were messy, the targets smarter then the mission file suggested. They had more bodyguards then the prime minister, all armed to the teeth. Aya's arms were leaden from swinging his sword repeatedly, his mind numb from the overwhelming gore. Omi getting wounded and Ken focusing on getting the youngest Weiss out of harm's way made matters worse. Getting the data was of equal priority to killing the targets. Only Omi could decode the encryption on what they had stolen.

Aya waited until Ken hauled Omi out of the back seat and disappeared with his bundle into the house before he let his head fall back against the seat. His gloved hands remained curled around the steering wheel, not ready to release his hold just yet. He couldn't bring himself to face Yohji just yet. He was too raw.

Aya cursed his damned subconscious for wanting the blonde in the first place. What gave his emotions the right to lay claim to what he shouldn't be able to have? Could the fallen find comfort and still fight for the innocents under their charge?

Eventually, the smell of blood filling his senses overwhelmed the hollow ache inside when he thought of seeing Yohji. Keeping him safe was worth the ire he was likely to receive. He just had to see the man so his mind could collapse into oblivion.

He trudged up the stairs to the bedrooms, not remembering when he removed his boots. His socked feet thudded loudly on the wood. He hoped the blood had not soaked through. Bloody footprints were an unwelcome reminder in the morning.

Aya stopped at Yohji's door, a small tempest of nerves stirring in his gut, trying to shake off the post-mission haze. He let the lassitude take over again, and pushed open the door.

The room was dark and empty.

Disappointment wormed through the numbness, making him feel all the heavier.

'Of course. What does he have to stay for? No mission means a night out.'

The redhead turned and continued his trek to his room. A buried part of him began to keen inside, cracking under the pressure of emotion, the blood, the death, and the loneliness. He wondered if this was what it felt like to go crazy, or if he was just realizing that he was already insane.

He didn't quite remember getting to his door, just that he was there, standing in front of the dark wood. He raised one stiff-gloved hand and turned the handle, not looking to see if smears were left behind.

It took him a moment to realize that Yohji was in his room. On his bed. Reading.

He stood there, frozen still with a mixture of hope and incomprehension.

Yohji rose, his boneless grace marred only slightly by the care of his movements. Aya felt those eyes take in the bloodied hair, the stiff coat, the loose grip on his saya. The gaze revealed nothing, but the mostly coffee empty cup on his bedside table spoke volumes.

Wordlessly, Yohji approached him as one would approach a fierce beast; slowly, measured steps, but with an aura of assurance and calm that was a balm to Aya's weary soul. The taller man grasped Aya's sword carefully, holding his gaze. Aya felt his fingers loosening, surrendering the weapon to Yohji's care.

After placing the sword on its rack on the dresser, Yohji turned back and calmly reached for the buckles on the blood-crusted coat. Aya let his eyelids droop as Yohji released him from its confines.

Yohji was so good at reading his silence.

The coat dropping to the floor roused him slightly, eyes drifting open to meet Yohji's calm gaze again. The blond turned Aya towards the bathroom with a light touch on his shoulder, and the redhead sluggishly complied.

The bathroom light was harsh, but Aya was too tired to care. Yohji sat him down on the toilet, and Aya let his eyes slip closed again. He felt Yohji removing his gloves and sleeveless shirt carefully, probing lightly for wounds amidst the red stains. Soon his socks were removed as well, and Aya felt touches along his legs, then his chest and head.

Aya drifted a little, accepting the touches and the tingles they left behind. He basked in the moment of not needing to do or be anything.

A soft sigh broke his reverie, and he opened his eyes. Aya saw Yohji looking down at him with an inscrutable expression. After a long, long moment, the taller man spoke softly.

"I'm not your sister, Aya."

The swordsman blinked.

"I'm not going to disappear." He smiled ruefully. "At least not without a helluva fight."

Aya blinked again. Then he sighed deeply, and rested his bloody head against Yohji's stomach.

Yohji let him, waiting a long time before gently pulling him up and putting him into the shower to get clean.

Things got a bit fuzzy for a while. Aya was sure he stood under the spray for quite a while, water streaming in random rivulets along his skin. He vaguely recalled Yohji getting in behind him and washing him thoroughly but without lingering. He didn't have the presence of mind to see if Yohji was naked, though a very small part of him thought that it would be a good idea to look. He knew the blonde washed his hair, as those moments were filled with wonderful pressure along his scalp combined with the sweet smell of clean and the almost-taste of Yohji's body next to his.

He remembered getting out of the shower, the chill air causing him to shake. A rational voice was somewhat concerned, but then there was the rubbing of a warm towel everywhere. His own soft t-shirt and sleep pants followed, and the distinct sensation of being urged into bed. There were broken moments of lying among cold sheets before Yohji's deliciously warm body slid next to his. He instinctively sought out the heat, bare arms wrapping gratefully around Yohji's torso, head resting against his strong shoulder.

Sleep didn't come for a while. When it did, it was ushered in by long fingers carding through clean, red hair and the tender brush of soft lips against his temple.
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Mine Fields