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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
- 2
- 3
Chapter 3

Yohji strolled down the street, idly smoking as he made his way towards the flower shop. He wove casually around a few late-morning pedestrians, his bearing relaxed. Only a careful observer would note the slight tightness around the eyes through the side of dark sunglasses and the fingers of one hand repeatedly tracing the edges of a disposable lighter.

It had been two weeks.

Two weeks since he woke up in Aya's bedroom alone, the smell of the redhead's shampoo the only trace of his presence. Yohji had sighed at the time, but resolved to give the private man some time to settle himself. He had observed Aya enough to know that he needed space to work things out, to reconcile whatever emotional breakthrough had allowed him to let Yohji in.

And there was something there. That night in the bathroom Yohji had felt something unknot in Aya, something loosen. The way his head rested on him, finally acquiescing to needing someone, needing Yohji. The man had been pliant and trusting as Yohji took care of him.

That touched him so deeply, he hadn't even had to hold back lustful thoughts as he'd washed Aya. Much.

But the next morning, and the day after, he didn't see Aya at all. Shifts had been switched in the shop and Aya didn't come down for meals. He took those few days in stride, willing to be patient.

Yohji sighed heavily as he waited for the light to change, allowing himself to be guided home by memory and instinct.

Finally, three days after the mission, Yohji came downstairs one evening to grab a snack, and saw a light on in the mission room. A quick peek revealed Aya curled up in his customary position on the couch near the side lamp, a book resting open on his knees.

Yohji hoped this was a subtle bid for companionship instead of just a change of scenery.

Quietly he made his way down the stairs. Aya tensed a fraction as he became aware of Yohji's presence, but he did not say anything. The taller man slipped onto the opposite end of the couch, fishing the remote from between the cushions.

"Mind if I watch a movie?"

Aya looked up for a moment, eyes not quite meeting Yohji's. He nodded with a sparse movement of his head, and returned to the book. Yohji found a stupid martial arts movie that wasn't too obnoxious. He casually observed Aya, letting his eyes flick over the redhead's curled form. There was a slight tension in the room, but it gradually abated over the course of the movie. Aya looked up occasionally, eyebrow rising in wry disbelief at some of the acrobatics on screen. Yohji relaxed a bit.

As the credits rolled by Aya stood and walked to the stairs. Yohji held his breath as the man passed, hoping for some break in the wall around the redhead.

Aya paused at the foot of the stairs without turning. Yohji looked over, studying the frozen profile.

"Good night," came the soft murmur.

~Just give me more time.~

"'night, Aya."

~I'll wait.~

He had stayed downstairs long after Aya had disappeared, watching the lights of the television on the ceiling, willing himself to be patient.

Yohji took one last drag of his cigarette as the Koneko came into view, sighing heavily on the exhale.

Waiting sucked.

What was worse, there was a new silence to be interpreted. The air between them wasn't tense, but wasn't relaxed either. There were shades of what they had, but something new as well. It put him on totally uneven footing. Hell, it felt like his first forays into getting past Aya's shell.

Yohji massaged the bridge of his nose under his sunglasses. The stress was getting to him. Ordinarily, he'd just blow off some steam at a club or go for a long drive. But, he didn't want Aya to think he'd restarted his nighttime pursuits. That was a sure-fire way to ensure the man never looked at him again. He didn't think he could handle that.

For the nth time since that day, Yohji wished Aya would just talk. The redhead had allowed a resumption of the quiet companionship they shared before, but nothing further. He'd gradually thawed, but didn't make any moves to resume their tenuous...whatever it was they had. Hell, the man had touched him more when he was injured than he did now, and that was saying a lot. Yohji didn't want to resume the casual touches on his part until he got some kind of sign he wasn't going to get run through for doing so.

This would be a lot easier if Aya wasn't so fucking gorgeous.

Yohji shook his head to chase away that train of thought. Time to get to work.

He plastered a smile on his face as he entered the shop.

"Hello everyone, Kudoh Yohji has arrived!"

Omi turned and smiled from where he had been refreshing the water in the coolers.

"Hi Yohji-kun."

Aya didn't look up from the arrangement he was working on. Yohji resisted the urge to shake himself at the sense of deja vu. He passed the redhead as he went to hang up his coat and retrieve his apron. As he was tying the strings, he wandered back and looked over Aya's shoulder, not quite touching. He tried not to notice the increase in tension in the man.

"Nice work, something special?"

His only reply was a quiet affirmative.

Yohji's smile slipped for a moment, but it was back by the time he went to the till to check orders.

"Anything urgent on the docket today?"

Omi moved towards the counter, looking between the two older men. He gave Yohji an odd look then began removing his own apron.

"No, just the usual kind of stuff. Aya is working on a corporate event."

Yohji looked over at Aya for acknowledgement, but the man was bent over his work. He smiled to himself at the intense focus the redhead displayed. Omi passing by towards the stairs broke his contemplation.

"All right then, enjoy your homework."

Omi smiled a bit weakly, looking between the two men again, brow furrowed.

"Thanks. Trig and modern politics."

Yohji gave a sympathetic wince and waved the teen up the stairs.

It wasn't long before the silence settled again.

Right, time for today's episode of 'get Aya to talk.'

Yohji snorted.
More like 'get Aya to acknowledge my presence.'

The man in question hadn't even twitched at Omi's exit, still focused intently on the arrangement under his hands. Yohji indulged in a brief fantasy of being stroked by those long fingers the same way Aya touched the delicate blossoms. Of course, a firm grip like on a katana could be good too...

Yohji sighed. This wasn't going to get him anywhere but frustrated. Well, more frustrated.

After assessing that there was nothing else he could possibly do, Yohji stood staring at the orders for the day, almost praying that Omi would come back to give him someone to talk to. Someone who would respond. There were a few orders that he could do without messing up too much, given his divided concentration. He again glanced over to where Aya sat silently working, taking a moment to admire the man's graceful form.

Shaking his head slightly, he selected a couple of arrangements, and started to map out what he needed. He leaned forward on his elbows, crossing one ankle over the other and stretching his back a bit as he planned. A few minutes in to his mental list, his instincts flared just a little, as if someone was staring. He looked out over the counter, but saw nothing amiss outside. Aya was still working, that new silence hanging between them. Shrugging mentally, he straightened and went to the cooler to pick his blooms.

Lest he go completely crazy with the quiet, Yohji started humming to himself as he carefully picked flowers from the cooler and placed them on the counter. He had to make a few trips, as one arrangement was particularly large. He swayed a little to his quiet humming, breaking out into a few soft words as the accompaniment played in his head. He kept glancing at Aya to see if the redhead noticed him, but it was as if there was a bubble around the other man. Nothing seemed to penetrate.

Yohji clenched his jaw a little in frustration. I mean, the guy might be confused, but he could at least be civil. Not that he was before their friendship, but Yohji could not stomach the idea that he might be back to square one.

He took a deep breath.

Calm.

Patience.

Give the man his space.

It was just so damn hard to keep to himself after holding...

Not helping.

Okay, back to the arrangements.

Yohji went over to the shelves with the vases, situated above Aya's area. He leaned over to look at Aya's arrangement, inhaling the clean, male scent coming off of the redhead.

"Nice work. Is it the last one?"

Aya didn't look up, but nodded stiffly after a moment.

Yohji resisted the urge to sigh, and inhale again, and grabbed the three vases he'd need. He felt that odd sensation of being watched as he stretched up for the last one, but once again, nothing was amiss when he looked around.

He started humming again as he set the vases down around the flowers he'd laid out. This time he did so louder. If he couldn't get the man to talk, maybe he could irritate him into a glare. At this point, any strong reaction would be welcome. He wouldn't feel so invisible then.

But nothing. Three arrangements and a whole repertoire of popular songs later, and still no reaction from the quiet occupant of the shop. Yohji's nerves began to fray, even more so by his damned assassin's instincts randomly firing all afternoon.

He was actually relieved when a few customers came in. He had somewhere to direct his smiles, his voice, his energy. He even turned on the charm a bit more than usual, gaining a few useless phone numbers, but aside from that silent tension, nothing new.

It was gnawing at him, this new quiet. It was too calm, yet something was alive in the air. Coupled with the lack of anything from Aya, it burned through any confidence Yohji had that progress was being made, that he had a chance with his teammate. The ache for that quiet closeness grew as the clock ticked down towards closing.

Finally, as soon as the clock flicked to 6:00, Yohji grabbed the shutter and pulled it down with a loud bang. As he turned, he caught a moment of wide surprise on Aya's face. Something in that expression sparked a wave of frustration-fueled anger. Before he said one of the many angry, stupid things bubbling to the surface, he stalked past the other man.

"Your turn to clean up," he managed to get out, almost hoping for a grab or an angry call to bring him back. The stunned nothingness propelled him up into the apartment.

Yohji stalked into the kitchen, ripping off his apron and throwing it against the counter. He kicked the lower cabinets with the ball of his foot.

"Fuck, does a guy have to get beat up to get noticed around here?"

A light cough sounded behind him. Yohji whipped around, startled to see Omi at the table, sandwich, soda and homework taking up about half of the surface.

Yohji forced on his usual smirk, hoping it didn't look as brittle as it felt.

"Hey, chibi. Whatcha working on now?"

Omi looked at him, the weight of a tactician in his gaze.

"Psychology, apparently."

Yohji chuckled weakly, turning to the fridge to hide his unease and frustration. He rooted around for a bit, finally settling on a lone beer from the back of the fridge. That should help. It was also almost impossible to remain pissed around his younger teammate. His smile was back in place as he leaned back against the counter.

"It's fine, Omi. It'll work out."

Omi shrugged a little, looking down at his book.

"If you say so."

Yohji paused mid-swig at the uncharacteristic indifference in the young man's tone. Omi was usually the first to soothe ruffled emotions. He swung himself into a chair across from the teen. A few long moments of silence passed, Yohji turning over the knot of emotion in his gut.

"I mean, he's gotta warm up eventually."

Omi didn't look up as he hummed in response.

"What?"

Omi caught his eye.

"This is Aya we're talking about."

Yohji sat back a bit, surprised. What was with the kid? He was usually the first to promote the best in all of them.

"You have to admit, Yohji, he's one of the most single-minded, stubborn guys on the planet."

"Yeah, but that can be a good thing." Yohji held back a shiver at the thought of that single-mindedness focused on him. That hard gaze, those strong hands, and that force of will all directed to one goal...

Down boy.

Yohji took another swig, waiting for the beer to calm his system.

Omi casually turned a page in his book, angling his head to read. After a moment, he spoke up again.

"Not to mention the fact that it takes nothing short of an explosion to get past irritation and really get his attention."

Yohji snorted.

"True, but once you have it..." he trailed off, wheels turning in interesting directions in his head.

"He doesn't let go until he has what he wants," Omi finished, a touch of humor in his voice.

Yohji remained frozen for a few moments longer, fingering the bottle. The strange new tension, the feeling of being watched. Aya's stiffness when he was near...maybe he wanted a sign from Yohji to know it was okay to resume things? Aya never made a move unless pushed to do so...

Abruptly he stood, ruffling the teen's hair as he strode by, a grin growing on his face.

Get his attention...

He missed the warm smile directed at his back and the slight shake of a head willing mussed strands back into place.

"Go get him, Yohji."

~*~

Saturday. The busiest day of the week. All four of them worked in the shop due to Monday morning arrangements, schoolgirls out of school at noon, weekend shoppers and the like. They would be steadily busy, but not overrun.

It was a perfect day to bait a redhead.

Yohji smirked to himself as he took in his appearance. Tight black jeans, easy to move in but hugging every line of his hip and leg. Low slung enough to tread the line between fashionable and clubwear, with silver thread in the stitching to gain that extra bit of attention.

The shirt was equally tight, a mottled pattern of electric blue, silver and black wrapping around the torso. A slash in the neckline exposed the hollow of his throat and parts of the collarbone, though the tight fit ensured that nothing was truly hidden from view. Sleek boots, ever-present sunglasses and a wide grin completed the outfit.

Yohji steeled his resolve and gathered all his confidence. Omi had inspired this plan, and he could kiss the kid for reminding him about the core of Aya's personality. He'd been waiting for Aya to talk, when really the redhead was a man of action. But if he wasn't forced outside of his structured universe, he wouldn't act.

Time to use the most deadly force available; the creature of seduction that was Kudoh Yohji.

He timed his entrance to the shop carefully. The shop was already open, and the other Weiss members would be in place. First impressions were very important.

"Good morning everyone," he called out in his typical drawl.

Omi turned to smile from where he was counting the morning cash. Yohji noted the twinkle in the young man's eyes as he caught sight of Yohji's outfit. Ken turned from where he was lifting a pot for the outside display, eyes widening.

"Holy shit. Looking to score early today Yohji?" the soccer player stuttered.

"Just aiming to please, Ken-ken."

Ken snorted and continued with the display.

A sound of crinkling plastic behind him made him smile in anticipation. Turning it into an easy grin, he turned towards his target.

Aya stood holding a tray of geraniums from the back room, hands clenching the edges tightly. The man's eyes were riveted to Yohji, going from feet to head unconsciously. Yohji took a second to admire the black t-shirt and jeans and how the tied apron highlighted Aya's slim waist.

"Morning Ayan," Yohji intoned smoothly, throwing in a sensual edge.

Aya stiffened and turned away towards his workbench, but not before Yohji noticed a slight flush along the top of a pale cheekbone.

Point for Kudoh.

Yohji held back a grin. Time for the next strike.

"Yo, Yohji, help me with this," Ken called from around a set of pots. "I want to get this done before the deliveries."

Yohji strolled over to the cluster of pots in front of the window that Ken was working with. He made a slow show of bending over and lifting each pot with a soft grunt. He made sure with to linger in a bent position as he adjusted the pots placement on the sidewalk, swaying slightly with each movement. By the time he and Ken were done, the soccer player was trying hard not to laugh, and Aya was very pointedly looking in the opposite direction. The force of his movements as he de-thorned a set of roses spoke to how Yohji was affecting him.

Ken nudged Yohji's shoulder as he headed towards the garage.

"Don't get killed Yotan," he muttered lowly. "This is too fun to watch."

"I'll be back with lunch!" he called more loudly to the room.

"Bye Ken-kun," Omi said from the register.

Yohji waved, and looked around for his next tempting move.

"Yohji-kun, will you wash the windows before starting on arrangements? It got a bit streaked yesterday."

Yohji looked at the boy gratefully. It looked like he had the whole team on his side in getting Aya.

"Sure chibi. It'll give the customers a nice view on their way in." He comment was rewarded by a flinch and a glare from Aya that he caught in the corner of his eye.

Another point.

This could be a fun day.

~*~

It was three o'clock, and the schoolgirls were having the last of their fun before the end of the day. Yohji had flirted, swayed, smiled and sold to his heart's content, always turning down the offers of the young (and older) ladies who came in. He was rewarded with Aya's growing irritation at each pass.

He thought lunch would undo him completely. Ken had brought back Chinese food, including sweet and sour chicken. While it wasn't Yohji's favorite, he took great delight in eating each morsel like it was the best in the world, sensuously licking is fingers of the sticky sauce.

Aya actually took a break after that one.

Yohji started straightening up around the shop while the others helped customers, swept, or, as Aya usually did, worked on arrangements. He decided to go for his final gambit, an 'accidental' touch. Aya was fit to burst, and needed something to shock him into breaking that vaunted control.

Yohji sauntered past as he put away a set of ribbons and florist wire. He moved towards Aya's station, placing colors on the rack where they belonged. Finally, he brushed past the man to put the wire where it belonged with Aya's supplies. As he returned to the counter, the back of his hand brushed along the curve of Aya's ass, just enough to be noticed.

The snapping of a stem sounded loudly in the quiet shop. Yohji could feel the tension skyrocket.

"Yohji-kun, could you take the inventory in the back?"

Apparently he wasn't the only one.

"Sure, chibi, I'll deprive our customers of my presence."

Omi rolled his eyes, but was obviously grateful to get the man out of Aya's reach.

Yohji whistled to himself as he went to the back room to work on the chibi's inventory, being sure to throw a seductive swing to his hips. He could almost feel violet eyes burning into his back.

Getting a rise out of Aya might be suicidal, but the rush was worth it. He could very well be missing a good strip of skin once this little ploy played itself out, but at least he was getting something out of the redhead. This had to come to a head soon. Yohji was getting a bit tired of playing alone.

He'd just picked up the inventory notebook and was figuring out where to begin when the door slammed open and shut behind him. Aya stalked in, stopping a few feet from Yohji with fists clenched at his side.

"What," Aya ground out, "the hell are you doing!"

Yohji stuffed down a surge of arousal at the intensity of the angry redhead in front of him. Damn was he sexy when pissed.

"Doing inventory."

The hands clenched tighter, heat growing in those magnificent eyes. Yohji idly wondered if he was a masochist.

"I don't mean the work! What are you doing..." Aya faltered for a moment, "wearing those clothes and...moving like that, and in front of customers."

Yohji forced an innocent look on his face.

"I'm not doing anything unusual."

Aya was visibly shaking with tension.

"How is brushing your hands across my ass not unusual?"

"Did I do that?"

Yohji swore he heard teeth creak as Aya clenched his jaw. The swordsman took a menacing step closer, but Yohji held his ground.

"You have to stop this."

"Why? I think you liked it," Yohji challenged, taking a step into Aya's personal space. He cocked one hip seductively, noting the flick of Aya's eyes across his tight jeans. He let his free hand drift up and slip underneath his tight shirt, watching Aya trace the movement. "What's the matter, don't like what you see?"

"That's not the point."

"Oh? What is the point then, Aya?" Yohji drawled seductively, raising his hand a fraction higher to expose his toned midriff.

The word spun wildly for a moment, and Yohji exhaled sharply as he was slammed against the nearest wall. Aya's body pressed against his, and a very firm erection nudged his hip. Hot breath scalded over his ear as hands imprisoned his wrists by his head with a crushing grip.

"The point," Aya punctuated with a hard press of his thigh against Yohji's groin, "is that unless you want to get fucked over the counter, back off."

Yohji was stunned breathless by the arousal rushing through him. Aya's presence was heady in the same room; being pressed against him caused all thought to vacate the premises. He managed to pull himself together enough to roll his hips against Aya's leg, relishing the strength and power of the other man.

He leaned forward and brought his lips to Aya's ear, mimicking the swordsman's position.

"So what if I want you to fuck me over the counter?"

Aya snarled lowly and pushed away, eyes wild. Yohji pushed himself off the wall after him, stopping just short of touching.

"Do I have your attention now Aya? Or are you going to keep ignoring me?"

The fine tremors in Aya's frame increased as anger warred with desire in his eyes.

God, the man was stunning. Yohji had to hold back from touching him. He needed Aya to make the move.

Crimson hair drifted down, covering Aya's gaze.

"Is that all you want? A fuck and some attention?"

Yohji's hope bloomed at the catch of emotion just under the anger in Aya's tone. He kept his cocky pose, but softened his voice.

"You know I want more."

He waited a beat, until Aya looked up through his bangs, then put on his best sexy grin.

"The fuck is just a bonus."

A breathless moment of tension rippled through the air as they stood, gazes locked.

Yohji actually saw him move this time, but he was imprisoned by strong arms around his waist nonetheless. It helped that he wanted to be caught. Aya's forehead touched his, and their breath mingled in shortened pants.

"Mine," he growled, eyes showing the depth of what that word entailed.

"That's the idea," Yohji replied huskily, teasing and serious all at once.

Firm lips descended on his, taking possession with the same surety as the afternoon he woke from his injuries. But this time, the passion was overwhelming. Aya's tongue mapped every inch of his mouth, and Yohji returned the kiss with equal fervor.

Aya ran one hand up Yohji's back, threading long fingers through Yohji's hair and angling his head to deepen the kiss. The other hand splayed across the exposed skin of his lower back. Yohji moaned as the contact fired electricity through his body. The blond clutched at Aya's apron, fast becoming overwhelmed by the force of the man's affections.

"God, if I'm losing it at just a touch..."

Suddenly they were moving backwards, and Yohji gasped as Aya pressed him back against the wall. The redhead began biting and sucking along Yohji's jaw and neck, moving those wonderful hands down to cup Yohji's ass through his jeans. The motion pressed their erections together, both of them groaning at the contact.

Yohji's hands moved into action, desperate to get access to more of Aya. His fingers ripped at the apron ties at the man's back and immediately darted up underneath the loose t-shirt. He eagerly traced the shifting muscles of Aya's back, digging fingers in as Aya hit particularly sensitive spots along his neck.

Needing more contact, Yohji raised one long leg to wrap around Aya's hips, arching more against the hard body. Aya ran his hand under to grip the leg, fingers brushing along Yohji's inner thigh. They rocked against each other, gasping and panting with each renewed touch.

When Aya began fumbling with the button of Yohji's pants, Yohji's brain kicked in and grabbed the swordsman's wrist.

"Aya," he said between pants, "do you want this now?"

Aya gave him a look between lust, incredulity and irritation.

"Yes."

Yohji's brain took a quick detour imagining himself fucked against the wall, and he shook it to throw the erotic image aside.

"As kinky as wall sex is, can we go upstairs?" Yohji saw hesitation pass through Aya's eyes, with a trace of worry. He leaned in and nuzzled Aya's nose with his as he stared intently into the man's eyes. "Someplace more private, no interruptions."

A set of squeals filtered in through the door to the shop, punctuating Yohji's statement.

Aya dropped Yohji's leg and pulled the man flush against him, delivering another soul-deep kiss. Yohji had almost resigned himself that they would stay put (not that it would be that bad) when Aya pulled away and dragged him towards the back door. As he stumbled behind Aya's fast movements, Yohji thanked anyone listening that the storeroom connected to the garage for ease of delivering new merchandise and that the garage led to the apartments. He didn't think Aya would have agreed to his suggestion if he had to drag Yohji upstairs in public. Or maybe he would; Yohji wasn't thinking entirely clearly at the moment.

The occasional smoldering look thrown over Aya's shoulder didn't help.

Aya dragged him into Yohji's room after only the briefest hesitation in the hall, using his momentum to toss Yohji onto the large bed. Yohji went with the movement, allowing himself to fall on his back on the soft expanse.

As he looked up, he was treated to Aya's feral gaze pinning him in place. The redhead locked the door with one hand while tearing off his apron with the other. Yohji felt his heart rate increase as Aya stalked towards the bed, tossing off the black t-shirt and exposing lean, muscled skin to Yohji's hungry eyes. He almost came in his pants at the sight of Aya crawling onto his bed and up his body.

Aya kissed him, body hovering over his. Yohji ran his hands up Aya's sides and traced around pink nipples, rewarded by a deep groan and the hot press of Aya's groin to his. Aya attacked his neck again, moving further down to nudge aside the flaps of his shirt to reach more of his collar. Yohji dragged blunt nails down Aya's front and dipped fingers under the waist of the redhead's pants, trying to touch as much pale skin as possible.

"Do you like this shirt?"

Yohji blinked as his brain struggled to re-engage.

"Huh?"

"Good."

Aya pushed himself up in a smooth motion and grabbed the slit collar in Yohji's shirt with two hands. After the briefest glance into Yohji's eyes, he pulled sharply and repeatedly. As each inch of skin was exposed, Aya's mouth left a trail of biting kisses that had Yohji gasping. The redhead leaned back on his haunches as the shirt finally came apart, running sword-roughened hands over the bared skin. The touches were electric, but the look of possession in Aya's gaze pushed his desire over the limit.

Yohji sat up, taking Aya's face in both hands and kissing him with all the passion he could muster. He pulled away only far enough to shrug out of his ruined shirt before diving in for another taste.

"Aya," he said huskily, "I need you to fuck me now. I can't wait any longer."

"I want to touch you more." Yohji shivered at the heat in that low voice.

"I want to do this again, but please, I need you now!"

Aya growled and pushed him away far enough to slide off the bed and shrug out of his pants in one smooth movement, underwear and all. Yohji gaped for a second before starting to wiggle out of his own.

"Lube?"

"Behind the alarm clock."

Aya raised an eyebrow at the 'close at hand' location, but refrained from commenting as he retrieved the tube.

Yohji was kicking the pants off the bed when Aya crawled between his spread legs again, dragging a hand along as he went. Both men spent a breathless moment to devour each other with their eyes, taking in dripping erections and firm muscle.

Aya was the first to move, diving down for a kiss while palming Yohji's cock at the same time. Yohji shouted wordlessly at the intensity, and it took all his concentration to keep from coming.

"A-ya," he moaned urgently, "now, now."

For once, the stubborn man did as he was told, his hand leaving briefly only to slip slickly between the cheeks of Yohji's ass. Yohji breathed through the intrusion, willing himself to relax as Aya thoroughly prepared him.

"Faster, hurry," he pleaded, the two, then three fingers scratching and stretching deliciously inside. He pushed down on the slick digits, wanting more.

Yohji felt Aya's hand leave his body. The swordsman raised one of Yohji's legs up so the foot rested on the bed, and wrapped the other around his waist. Yohji's head fell back against the pillow as Aya's slick head pressed against him, the slow burn agonizing yet too little all at once.

"More, more, more," Yohji moaned, wanting Aya to press harder, just to feel full of him. But Aya took his time, pushing inexorably until fully seated within Yohji's body.

Aya leaned forward, hands clenching the covers near Yohji's ribcage. He was panting as heavily as Yohji, hazy violet eyes locking on Yohji's in askance.

"Move, please," Yohji responded, pressing his hips against Aya.

Aya groaned, gripped Yohji's hips, and started to move.

All time disappeared. Yohji was lost in the magnificent friction of Aya moving inside him, the patterns of muscle under his hands, and the music of Aya's grunts and groans. Sensation pooled and expanded over and over with each thrust. Yohji wanted it to go on, but was being driven steadily to the edge by Aya's passion.

Finally, Aya's hand wrapped around Yohji's erection, and the blond couldn't take it any more. He screamed wordlessly as the world went white, dimly feeling Aya swell inside him and fill him with burning heat.

The pulsing desire slowly wound down, and the world reassembled in bits and pieces. The soft comforter under his splayed knees, the slight dampness of the pillow. Muffled street noises intruded quietly from the window. The heat lying over him resolved into Aya's body, the breath in his ear slowing by degrees.

Yohji felt the loss as Aya pulled out and rolled away. His gut clenched briefly as Aya leaned over to grab something from the floor.

'Please, don't pull away again...'

Relief washed through him as Aya rolled back. His grin turned a bit wry as he noticed what it was the redhead was cleaning himself and Yohji with.

"I did sorta like that shirt."

Aya tossed it over the bed without a second glance and rolled onto his side next to Yohji, head cradled in the crook of his own arm.

"Of course, this is worth it," Yohji said with a sigh, mirroring Aya's position.

Aya idly traced the line of Yohji's cheek and collarbone, their bodies not quite touching. Yohji let him, placing a light hand on the other man's hip and tracing small circles with the pads of his fingers. A new silence spread between them, content and peaceful.

After a while, Yohji had to speak, to answer the question still in the back of his mind.

"Aya, I know we don't do tomorrows..."

The redhead froze, eyes drifting downwards to where his hand had stilled on Yohji's chest. Yohji struggled to find the words, pushing down the twinge of fear that was curling inside.

"It's just..." Aya looked up at him, and the emotion there gave him courage. Yohji embraced Aya and inhaled deeply.

"I don't want to wake up alone anymore." He pulled back to meet Aya's eyes. "Is that okay?"

Yohji caught the softening of Aya's eyes before the man ducked his head. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around Yohji.

"Okay."
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Mine Fields