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The Dance	By : jeisvenka Category: Weiß Kreuz > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 3654 -:- 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.

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Connection
Maybe it was just his imagination, but Yohji had a distinct feeling that the air had turned a tad bit colder when he walked into the room.
Yes, definitely his imagination.
It was also probably his imagination that his teammates had been acting strangely ever since he'd gotten home from his… encounter… a few days ago.
But the encounter could've been his imagination, too. The whole thing could've just been one huge hallucination. In fact, Yohji having hallucinations made MUCH more sense than what his brain actually recalled from that night.
Yohji looked over to Omi, trying to reassure himself, only to find those big blue eyes quickly averted from his own. A shiver crawled across his skin, raising goose bumps in its wake.
"Tch," Ken clucked, and Yohji turned to face him. Ken, unlike Omi, didn't have the kindness to avert his eyes, which boiled and seethed under those long lashes.
They knew.
It hit him like a ton of bricks, and he swayed slightly, trying not to look like he was gasping for air. How… how was he going to explain something like this to them? He couldn't even explain it to himself! And now that he thought about it, of course they knew. Kritiker had eyes everywhere, and he and… his partner… had definitely made a scene, rushing into the hotel like that.
"How could you?" Ken spat finally, as if unable to contain his rage any longer. Yohji grimaced, feeling drowned by the sudden flood of emotion from his comrade. Would he have to leave Weiss? Kritiker? Run away somewhere? Would they let him run away somewhere?
"Listen, I-"
"Ken!" Omi cried, jumping from his seat, "It's okay, I'm sure he has a good rea-"
"A good reason?!" Ken , his face purple with anger, "How on earth could he possibly explain-"
"I CAN!" Yohji yelled, and silence swelled around him like a bubble. "See, after the mission, I started drinking a lot, and-"
"Drinking a lot!" Ken choked out, laughing spitefully.
Omi walked over, a fake smile plastered on his face, cutting off Ken by standing in between him and Yohji. "I said," he said slowly, pointedly, "It's okay. I'll have another birthday next year."
Yohji was shocked into silence.
"And besides," the boy added, "you look honestly guilty about the whole affair, which is more than I can say about Aya. So really. It's okay."
Still untrusting of his own vocal chords, the tall blond merely nodded dumbly.
Omi looked over his shoulder at Ken, who also nodded, although his face was still tinged a blistering red.
Omi's birthday.
The kid had turned 18the night after the mission. In the grand scheme of things, it had completely slipped his mind.
He plopped down onto the mission room couch, mixed feelings of shame and relief coursing through his veins.
Omi smiled again and made his way back to the computer in the corner. Ken slumped against the wall, crossing his arms to show that no, he hadn't forgiven his teammate yet.
They sat there in silence, Omi's fingers madly working away at the keyboard, waiting for Manx. She'd called earlier with a rush mission. Something of grave importance. Be right over, she'd said.
That was almost an hour ago.
"It isn't April Fools Day, is it?" Ken grumbled after several minutes, looking up at the clock on the wall.
"It's the middle of November, Ken," Omi said helpfully, unaware of the passage of time as he tapped away at the keys.
There was a crash above, and all three of them leapt to their feet, instantly ready for action. Something rustled against the door, and it burst open into a bright wave of colored paper and florescent ribbon that shocked the assassins' senses into stillness.
Manx made her way carefully down the stairs, breathless, her face appearing from behind two huge packages, "Somebody take these. They weigh a ton. And there are a couple more in the car, along with some other things."
"Oh Manx, you shouldn't have!" Omi exclaimed, surprised.
"Shouldn't have what?" she asked, raising a flaming red eyebrow as they pulled the packages from her grasp. She wasn't kidding; they were heavy. Yohji plopped his beside the other one on the small table. "OH!" she exclaimed suddenly, pulling a much smaller package from her purse. "Happy birthday, Omi-kun. Your 18th, right? This is for you."
Omi tried not to look crestfallen as he accepted the tiny gift and pulled it apart to reveal… another earring, identical to last year's. And the year's before. "Uh... Thanks, Manx."
"Don't mention it," she said dismissively, and moved across the room to pat a large, sparkling package with her hand. "These are for the mission."
"We're crashing a party?" Ken asked, grimacing. He hated getting dressed up.
"Kind of," Manx grinned, and Ken's expression fell to match Omi's. "You're going to…" She paused, looking around the small room, her eyes adjusting to the darkness before they narrowed dangerously, "Where's Abyssinian?"
"Dunno," Ken said, shrugging. "He hasn't popped up since before Omi's birthday party. You know, the one we'd been planning for months." Yohji looked away, feeling the brunette's glare biting into the side of his head.
Manx shook her head, frowning, "Well, we can't wait. Yes, you'll be crashing a party. But not as regular attendees, and not at a normal party…"
--
"I LOOK LIKE A FUCKING MONKEY."
Yohji's cheeks and sides were aching from the force of his laughter, although the outfit made it slightly harder to express.
"I think that's the point, Ken," Omi said, not even trying to mask his pleasure.
Yohji's outfit, a bright fox costume, was currently incomplete. Skin-tight stretchy orange fox suit with white tummy, check. Fuzzy tail, check. Insanely adorable black leather gloves with soft pink fuzzy pads and claws, check. Insanely adorable black leather boots with claws, check. Incredibly hot and suffocating porcelain fox mask, uncheck.
"Can't I just paint my face or something?" Yohji asked for the nth time, glaring down at the thing.
"No," Manx said plainly from somewhere behind him, where she was seated on the couch. "It was expensive, as well as required to get into the party, even if you are esteemed and expected guests."
Ken pulled at his brown suit, trying to get the fabric to lie in less revealing position, his long tail swaying behind him.
"Why can't we just make this a normal mission? Rush, slash, and run?" he griped, giving up and instead grabbing a long brown coat to hide himself, his monkey mask grinning up at him from the sofa.
"Top security," Omi chimed in, reading over the file. "Apparently he hasn't left his house for over twenty years, instead conducting his business through telephone and email. He's untouchable, this guy."
"Yes, until now," Manx smiled, turning her eyes away from Yohji's ass before she got caught. "He's opening his home for a party. He has… strange tastes, I admit. But this is too good of an opportunity for your pride to get in the way."
"And those?" Omi asked, walking gracefully over to the bright packages, his fluffy tail bobbing along after him, sparkling with some of the glitter that fell from his shimmering, pure white cat outfit.
"Those are your tickets into the back rooms. Your target will be watching, not participating in the party… until he sees those."
"And what are they, exactly?" Yohji asked, tilting his head to the side.
Manx's smile widened, "Bricks, mostly."
Their eyes bulged slightly, Ken tripping over his own ridiculous monkey feet and landing with a thud.
"Bricks that the company will think are… some special entertainment equipment. Like I said, your target has strange tastes. His men won't dare check the load, although you need to be prepared if they do. The only one that actually carries something of value is this one," she said, gesturing to a mid-sized silver package. Omi, after much discussion, would carry the silver one. Because it matched his costume.
Aya's costume lay in a bright red pile beside a glowing yellow package, the mask smiling up in a calm and knowing manner as they filed from the room, all carrying their respective packages, Omi still voicing his disapproval at their method of choosing him to be the silver one's bearer.
--
It was a long, arduous ride to the party. The stretchy fabric kept riding up into his nether regions, and from the way his teammates were squirming, they were having similar difficulties. It seemed especially laborious to Omi, who was taking special care not to squish his tail as he worked the car's pedals.
As they neared the location, the buildings became more spread out, revealing more grass, trees… and mansions. And the more spread-out the houses became, sitting proudly on wider plots, the more glamorous the mansions turned out to be. Until, at last, it appeared, glowing and foaming with people, all clothed as animals, all wearing the same quality of porcelain critter mask, and all in a state of relative undress. Even without looking, Yohji knew Ken and Omi were blushing, and they donned their masks in unison.
Omi pulled the car up to a masked woman in a high-thighed, dangerously low cut black and silver canine outfit, the tag of her collar bouncing and clinking against her chest at every movement as she opened their car door. Another canine, as apparently all the servants were black and silver canines, led them up the steps, wrestling Ken's coat from his shoulders, and ushered them into a throbbing throng of dancing, scantily-clad but well-formed figures. Yohji gripped his bright blue package tightly, glancing out from behind his sneering fox mask, and looked down at Omi. Omi needed to lead the way, in case their merchandise was checked.
In the manner of a true pro, Omi picked his way around the side of the room, as per the map in their file, and up the stairs on the far side, Ken and Yohji flanking him on either side. When they reached the top, a couple of Doberman-dressed guards held out their hands and thoroughly frisked them for weapons, and then they were inside. The back room was dark and warm, not nearly as airy as downstairs, and Yohji could feel the beads of sweat slowly slipping down across his cheeks to be absorbed in his fluffy orange collar. Inside, another Doberman pulled the silver package from Omi's grip, as it was the closest to where he was standing, and tore into it violently.
Inside, a number of shiny objects could be seen, but they were immediately tucked back into the box by the guard dog and shoved back into Omi's hands. He grunted slightly, motioning them forward again, and they found themselves suddenly in a large bedroom, filled floor to ceiling with television screens. They were all arranged in a circle around a central point.
The bed.
It was glamorous, as was the rest of the mansion, overflowing with excess pillows and blankets. And stuffed animals.
The darkness of the room reflected against the dead eyes of the stuffed toys, and Yohji was so dumbfounded for a moment that he almost overlooked the central figure.
It was a panda. Or at least, he thought it was a panda. The huge porcelain mask grinned back at him from the darkness, and the white spots stood out starkly, stretched against a mass that was moving slowly under the force of its breaths.
So this was the guy. A dangerous guy, whom they had to kill. Sitting in the middle of the bed, surrounded by stuffed animals, dressed in a panda suit.
Honestly, Yohji felt sorry for the guy.
"Are those for me?" the creature asked, the mask muffling his voice.
"Are you… Master?" Omi asked, purring as best he could, per his instructions. The mask's grin appeared to spread wider, although Yohji was sure he was just imagining things.
"Indeed," came the low rumble, and the mass crawled to its feet.
The man wasn't nearly as huge as he'd appeared on the bed. The pattern on the panda suit and the mass of blankets made him seem several times larger. In fact, he was a relatively short individual, the top of his head covered by a fuzzy hood, no doubt hiding a number of bald patches.
"Let me se-" a hand shot out from the darkness, blocking Master from his presents. The panda mask looked across to see the source of its obstruction, and a new figured stepped out into the light. It was a jaguar, although the suit was far more classy and far less revealing than what everyone else was wearing. Two more bodies stepped out into the light from various directions, and Master, finally having understood, backed up into the shadows of the room.
Yohji could feel their chance slipping away, and lunged toward the small man, only to be knocked backwards by some invisible force. Two other loud thumps sounded beside him, and he knew his teammates had both tried the same thing. Their target was going to get away. They were going to fail their mission.
"Oh look, only three kittens tonight," came a low, nasally purr, emitted from behind the mask of a jackal. This suit was much more revealing, hugging close to all the right places.
A chuckle, "I'm glad you think so. I did try so hard to look my best."
And then it hit him, and from the gasps of his teammates, them too. "Schwarz," Ken hissed, and they were instantly on their feet.
"Only three. That should make it much easier," the jaguar said haughtily. Crawford.
Yohji looked over at Omi, who was staring into the darkness to their left. A glittering black outline caught his attention, and he was struck by the irony of the young Schwarz' costume.
A black cat.
Omi wheeled, flinging out darts from hidden places in the costume, and Nagi mirrored him, their tails swaying obediently behind them as they pitched themselves toward each other.
Ken lashed out at Crawford, who stepped back to let Schuldig handle his fight, instead walking off in the direction of their employer, and Yohji sped off after him into the darkness, which turned out to be a hidden escape hatch planted into the wall.
The hall was lit by a dim light running along the carpeted floor, and numerous animal masks grinned out at him from the walls, their faces grotesque and distorted by the light. It seemed to go on forever, and a slight feeling of nausea began to creep up into his stomach as the masks quickly moved past him.
The hall was curving, going downwards, deeper into the earth, and slowly, slowly getting wider. At last, when he thought the damned thing would never end, it opened up into a strategically lit underground room, at least the size of a baseball field, filled to the brim with all sorts of pleasure and pain devices. Even from where he was standing at the entrance, Yohji could smell the thick scent of blood, which added to his increasing nausea. He briefly considered removing his mask, but in that short amount of time there was a loud crack, and something pinged against the mask's cheek. The mask splintered slightly, but didn't break, having been hit by the bullet at just the right angle, and Yohji hit the ground, crawling toward the nearest shelter, which happened to be a large cross with bloodstained leather cuffs. The ground was sticky. Yohji felt the bile rising in his throat, but he was a trained professional. He could take it. He could always take it.
And then, suddenly, his shoulder exploded into white-hot pain, sparks of light filling his vision even as he bit his lip to keep from crying out. He needed to move. Now. But his limbs didn't seem willing, and the added pain to his nausea made him teeter on the edge of consciousness, his brain simply shutting down to defend him from the experience.
Something cold snapped around his neck, and he twisted, lashing out as he was lifted, choking, into the air. The haze in his mind cleared long enough to see the grotesque panda mask smiling up at him, its owner at least a head shorter than Yohji, but tall enough to fasten the leather cuffs around Yohji's wrists.
"The fox… it was always my favorite…" the man rasped, his fingers trembling with excitement. Yohji looked around for his teammates, and, seeing none, for Crawford, who also seemed to have disappeared into thin air. This couldn't be happening. Not to Yohji. He'd always planned to die a painful death, but this was ridiculous.
A panda. He was going to be killed by a fucking panda.
Something sharp bit into his thigh, and he closed his eyes to it, grimacing with the pain, but otherwise making no noise.
"My little vixen hasn't found his voice yet? Well, we'll soon fix that… Foxes are notoriously shy creatures, after all…" Yohji kept his eyes closed, willing the sound of the man's voice away, trying to keep happy memories in his mind before the end. Ken playing soccer with the kids. Omi delicately arranging flowers. Aya… well, being Aya. And…
His breath caught in his throat. Farfarello. Jei. His Jei. At least, for that one night, the man was his. And now? God only knows.
Yohji heard some rustling in front of him, and a low grunt as the man pulled his own clothes off, running his fingers down along Yohji's body, making the skin squirm in its wake. Yohji kept his eyes shut.
Then, as if propelled forward by some magnet, "Master's" body jumped flat against his, shivering warmly with excitement.
Warmly. Excitement? Yohji felt his "excitement" oozing its way down the leg of his costume. But that was too quick for-
His eyes snapped open, and he found himself staring into a completely placid mask. No grin. No sneer. No frown. Expressionless and passive, although the corners of the mask's canine eyes were turning up slightly in a sort of amusement.
Yohji's eyes strayed down, and he found himself faced with a grinning panda mask, although this time there were flecks of red mixed in with the black and white.
The canine jerked slightly, pulling out a small, easily concealed dagger, and the panda fell to the floor in a heap. Yohji could feel the darkness tugging at his consciousness, even as the leather straps were cut from his wrists, and the chain around his neck broken apart by sturdy fingers.
"Mine," growled the white wolf softly, burying its cold nose into Yohji's neck. "Mine."
--
Aya frowned, looking disdainfully at the video screen.
"That was a bit too dramatic, don't you think?" he said sternly, turning away as the white wolf carried his unconscious prize off-screen, away from the wreckage.
A figure shrugged in the darkness. "I would've tried harder, if you'd worn the outfit…" it purred.
"I'm not dressing up as a squirrel, Crawford. Not even for you."
The jaguar moved into the light of the video screen, dragging its claws down across Aya's chest. "Not even for me?"
There was a long pause, and the claws went lower.
"Well…" a sharp intake of breath. "Maybe. Next time."
"Nnn…"
--
END
A/n: I hope that made sense XD I'm a wee bit tired haaha. Maybe I'll tweak it later. Please leave comments/crits/flames/hate mail! I love love love signs of life
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The Dance