Bits and Pieces of Weiss Kruez | By : Strailo Category: Weiß Kreuz > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 4333 -:- 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. |
Title: Jazz and Kittens 2
Fandom: Weiss Kruez
Pairing/Characters: Yohji, Aya
Prompt: hiding
Drabble #: 124
Date: July 27 2012
Word count: 392
Next pairing: Will, Sam
AN: Sorry I’m late again. Yesterday felt like someone had taken a hot knife and stabbed it into my lower back, so I relaxed.
To Anonymous: I may one day write a full story surrounding them. One day. I’m glad that you enjoyed it. And yes, that’s what it means. *nodnod*
*~*~*~*
“Where were ya?” The words surprised Aya, making him spin around and frown at his blond co-worker. Yohji just rolled the cigarette around in his mouth as he waited for the answer that he already had. He had noticed that Aya would go out when he didn’t have early morning shifts, always coming back around 3:30, 4 in the morning. He would then sit down, with a cup of iced tea, and count out the cash in his pocket, writing the amount in a book.
“Out,” was Ayas cold answer. If Yohji didn’t know any better, he would have thought that the man had been out whoring himself. The clothes he was wearing was close enough in his mind. Ayas jeans were skin tight, stone washed and gorgeous on the younger male while the shirt barely brushed the waist band of the jeans. Aya stripped out of his long jacket and hung it up, grabbing the envelope that he knew was stuffed full of money. “Don’t fuck with me, Ayan. I took my date to the jazz club you were working at.”
Aya went stiff and snarled, spinning on his heel. “What I do during my free time is my business, Kudoh. If I wish to work at an old friends jazz bar, I will do so,” he stated, voice icy. “Because unlike you, Omi and Ken, I have medical bills to pay seeing as Persia fucked me over by only paying for my sister’s bed.” With that said, he turned away, heading for the kitchen.
Leaning back in his chair, Yohji lit his cigarette and stared at Aya as he made his tea in jerky movements. He had never once really thought about why his fellow assassin had eaten just the bare amounts of food for the first six months of living there with them. But if it was true and he had to pay for his younger sister’s care, it was no wonder he had taken up a job as a waiter.
After all, he made good money slinging drinks and making older men feel good, and it was all legal. Sighing, Yohji sucked on his cigarette, relaxing finally. He would have to take one of Ayas tables the next time he went to the club and leave a nice, fat tip. The other man wouldn’t take any money otherwise.
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