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Not Now, Not Ever	By : Blythe Category: Weiß Kreuz > General Views: 2476 -:- 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
- 6
- 7
- 8
Disclaimer: I
don’t own Weiss; I’m not getting paid to torture the boys. I gladly do it for free! This is a work of fanfiction and is not for
profit.

Pairing:
Aya/Yohji

Rating: NC-17
lemon and language

A/N: For the
chibi because without her prompting (reading begging), I may never have had the
courage to post my first fic, not to mention my first lemon. Thank you, Moimoi-chan! Thank you to AssAnon for supporting my habit
and offering feedback. Lastly, thank you
Marasmine, the world’s most patient beta!

‘thoughts’

Chapter 7

The next two days at the cabin were a maelstrom of
emotions. Tension was high and tempers
were short as Aya continued to monitor Yohji’s behavior and meals to ensure the
fool was actually eating. He attempted
to observe unobtrusively, but Yohji was an assassin. The man knew when he was being watched. Yohji’s innate abilities to sense others and
to accurately read them were two of his best qualities, both as an assassin and
as a friend. It was damn hard to keep
things from the man. It bothered Aya
sometimes that the idiot was so oblivious to the swordsman’s feelings for
him. He supposed that was Yohji’s ego at
work, one of his worst qualities, both as an assassin and as a friend. Once he’d made up his mind that they’d never
be more than friends, and barely even that, he’d refused to allow himself to
see any other possibilities.

Yohji was frustrated with having a babysitter. Aya was frustrated with Yohji’s bull-headed
resistance to even the most innocent of advances. The only progress he’d made was that they
continued to share a bed every night.
Ostensibly, to stave off the nightmares, but Aya clung to the
circumstance regardless. It had to mean
something that Yohji would allow Aya to be so near when he was most vulnerable. He was slowly earning Yohji’s trust
again. It also meant that Yohji’s
resolve was weakening under the pressure of his growing need. Yohji was so ensconced in the habit of
seeking human comfort that having it readily available and freely offered, but
denying himself, was like waving a needle in front of a junkie. He desperately craved contact and while he
cursed his weakness, he could not refuse Aya’s offer each night.

That, of course, is precisely what Aya had been banking on.

Yohji continued as he’d been at the Koneko, spending as much
time alone as possible. At times, he
appeared to go out of his way to avoid Aya.
He would read, sometimes on the porch so he could smoke, sometimes in
his room, but rarely in the common room.
When he wasn’t reading, he seemed, for all intents and purposes, to be
brooding. The silence was becoming
unbearable again. Even meals were
passing without words outside of ‘please pass the salt,’ ‘thank you,’ and ‘I’ll
wash, you dry.’ Aya wasn’t sure how much
more of it he could take. The irony of
the situation was not lost on the swordsman.

‘Alas, but the gods have a twisted sense of humor,’
he thought as he idly paced the perimeter of the cabin one evening.

Speaking to no one in particular, he directed his eyes to
the sky. “I get it, okay? I understand.
I know that this is what I was like. I know, now, how it must have felt for him
to care for me and to be locked out in the beginning and again after I’d pushed
him away. You’ve gotten your point across, but this,” he gestured vaguely
toward Yohji’s room, “isn’t helping! If I’m to suffer for hurting him back
then, that’s fine. But something has to be done for him. Now. I can’t spend
another day watching him fade away! Damn it! Just tell me what to do! I need to
know if this plan will work,” he ended in a whisper.

Aya silently continued to pour his heart out to whatever god
would hear him. He figured if they
didn’t intercede on his behalf, perhaps they would on Yohji’s. He was beginning to feel real fear where the
blonde was concerned. He recognized the
calm resignation that had been creeping into Yohji’s features for weeks. The emptiness of his once sparkling eyes left
Aya cold. He could practically feel
Time’s sand slipping through his fingers and Yohji along with it. That was one
of the many reasons that he was so reluctant to leave his love alone for too
long, often finding excuses to check up on him.

Icy dread constricted his heart as his recurring nightmare
assailed him; a vision of himself opening the door to Yohji’s room at night, of
climbing into the bed and settling himself against a warm body, only to find
that body cold. Not even a body really,
just a shell, a husk of the man Kudoh Yohji had been, but no Kudoh Yohji.

It could not be permitted to happen.

‘I will not lose him. Not now, not ever. Like it or not,
Kudoh, you belong to me.’

The decision to live or die, to stay or go, no longer
belonged to Yohji. He would learn that
tonight. Aya allowed himself to slip
into mission mode. The calculated calm
that always accompanied Abyssinian’s presence was slowly seeping in. He had tried to do things Ran’s way, with
caring, patience, and understanding, but his target was not cooperating. Abyssinian, however, had some very unique
ideas about how to bring others around to his way of thinking.

He took the stairs two at a time. There was no hesitation, no turning
back.

‘Now or never, and never is simply unacceptable.’

Stopping in his own room to grab a few useful items first,
he strode purposefully to Yohji’s room.
On the balcony, honeyed locks captured the last few rays of waning
sunlight before their brilliance was muted by the early stars. Other than a quick glance at his watch, the
lanky man didn’t even acknowledge the intrusion.

‘He’s early,’ Yohji thought as he watched the last
beam of light dip below the horizon, flicking the spent filter of his smoke
away.

Suddenly something looped around his neck and immediately
began to tighten. Yohji experienced a
fleeting déjà vu, slipping momentarily into the past, before reality reasserted
itself.

‘What the fuck? Everybody has their limits, guess I found
Aya’s.’

Strong arms wrapped around his chest as a cool voice hissed
close enough to his ear to send a shiver down his spine.

“Is this what you want? It this what you’re out here waiting
for every night? Do you think she’ll come back to finish it? Or shall I do
it?” The last words were punctuated by
increased pressure to his airway. He
couldn’t answer, only stare in shock. He
was being pulled backward, to the interior of the room. Toward the bed.

The redhead moved around to face him and shoved him
back. Yohji stumbled, landing in a
graceless heap on the bed. Aya pounced
immediately, straddling his prey.
Trachea suddenly free, said prey greedily gulped air, his hand
instinctively reaching to remove the impromptu noose. But, Yohji’s hand never made it to his
throat; instead it was snagged by pale fingers.
The other wrist was also grabbed; both were momentarily pinned above his
head before being affixed to the headboard.

Aya smirked, actually *smirked*, down at him, proud of his
handiwork thus far. Yohji scanned Aya’s
face. Once he could focus on violet eyes
the realization set in that he wasn’t dealing with Aya. This was Abyssinian who had come to
play. Yohji couldn’t bring himself to be
too concerned. He feared neither death
nor his leader. He wished for a second
that he could call upon the suave, confident Balinese, but that part of him was
already lost. Every part of him was
lost. He couldn’t force a reaction to
anything if he had to. He was already
dead.

Right?

But then . . .

He realized, with an odd sort of detachment, that his
breathing was a little heavier, more ragged.
His heart wasn’t beating; it was pounding a new rhythm in his
chest. Taking stock of his situation he
recognized it as one of his most secret fantasies coming true. For a moment, he wondered if that garrote
actually had killed him or at least rendered him unconscious.

‘Because there is absolutely no fucking way that Fujimiya
Aya just bound me to a bed and is now straddling my hips. I wish I could pinch
myself.’

Instead, he found his voice.

“Are you real?”

Pain exploding along his cheekbone from a well-aimed
backhand was his answer. Emerald eyes,
at first wide and disbelieving, were quickly darkening with lust.

‘You are one seriously fucked-up dude, Kudoh. Five
minutes ago you wanted to die; now you want to be beaten into submission and
fucked into oblivion. Then promised it’ll happen again.’

But it was true. Aya
had turned the tables on him without warning.
Aya, who was still sitting astride his thighs, intently watching each
thought flit across his face, like reading a book. When their gazes finally locked, Aya slowly
licked his lips. Yohji could feel those
eyes, plum dark with unbridled lust, devouring every inch of him as he was
spread out before the Abyssinian.

It was easily the most erotic thing he’d ever experienced
and he was hoping it would get even better.

Aya leaned forward, pressing against Yohji from shoulder to
hip, huskily whispering, “I know what you need,” as he traced the outer shell
of the blonde’s ear with a skillful tongue.
Yohji couldn’t arrest the gasp produced when sharp teeth tugged at the tiny
hoop in his ear. He was quickly finding
his jeans too tight and was wishing for an all around absence of clothing.

The curious tongue continued to leave a wet trail in its
wake, starting just behind the ear and stopping to lave extra attention on a
collarbone. Aya wasn’t sure how long
he’d be able to maintain a slow torture.
The tawny flesh was like a drug.
The more he tasted, the more he wanted.
And, oh gods, did he want more!
He nuzzled closer, nudging with his nose trying to get better access to
the neck he was so anxious to mark, but Yohji suddenly snapped his chin down,
effectively blocking Aya. A low, warning
growl rumbled from the back of Aya’s throat, but it didn’t have the desired
effect. Yohji still refused to lift his
chin.

Aya sat back on his heels, once again locking green and
violet gazes. Yohji’s eyes revealed
lust, passion, pride, fear, and genuine affection. It was the pride that both men were battling. No matter how much he wanted, needed to
submit, Yohji could not go down without a fight. It was innate; a survival instinct that
simply would not allow him to just ‘roll-over.’

But, Aya would not relent, not when he’d come this far. He teasingly began to unbutton his captive’s
plain white oxford shirt, knowing he had as much time as necessary to claim his
prize. Even though he felt like he’d
explode if it took too long, he would call upon every reserve of control he
could muster. He would not take his pleasure
until Yohji had acquiesced.

He opened the shirt by sliding his open palms up the length
of the well-muscled torso. The ribs were
still too prominent, but some of the muscle mass was still there. Yohji was still fit. Aya continued to soothingly run his hands
along chest and sides until he felt the muscles begin to relax. He removed his own shirt and, lying chest to
chest again, began his ministrations from scratch. He drank in the small moan that the
skin-on-skin contact elicited from his mate.

He moved back to his ear, left now, instead of right. Hitched breaths and stifled moans became
steadier, but full access to neck and throat was still denied. He slid his hands into the honey locks with
deceiving gentleness and felt Yohji begin to arch beneath him. Another low growl grew into a vicious snarl
as Aya fisted his hand, using his grip to jerk the blonde head aside. At the rough treatment, Yohji cried out; the
sound like music to Aya’s ears. The cry,
however, quickly became a mewl as teeth sank into the soft flesh of his neck at
the shoulder. The former playboy’s hips
bucked as suction pulled blood to the surface and again as a clever tongue
soothed the bite. Aya ground down
against Yohji and was rewarded with more mewls and deeper groans. It was everything he could do not to come
with the faint taste of Yohji’s blood on his tongue, Yohji’s pleading moans in
his ears, and Yohji’s erection against his own.

The slight coppery tang in his mouth began to mollify the
rage that had been blinding him moments before.
It did nothing to cool his ardor, but he stopped acting purely on
instinct, his brain starting to join the game, too. He pushed himself up on hands and knees and
ghosted his lips over the rapidly swelling bruise on Yohji’s cheek in silent
apology. He really hadn’t meant to hit
him that hard and wondered for a moment what had come over him. He was still curious about the all-consuming
need to dominate that this man always brought forth in him. He filed it away for future review.

Yohji whimpered at the brush of Aya’s lips, but did not try
to move away. The lightly bronzed body
was trembling now, almost violently and the marred flesh on his cheek had been
damp and salty. Aya focused on the
blonde’s face and found what he had thought to be only sweat, was also
tears. The sight of Yohji, his long-time
temptation, crying and shaking beneath him made something deep within Aya
purr. It also made Ran’s higher brain
functions awaken enough to attempt coherent speech.

“Yohji?” His eyes
were screwed tightly closed. His fists
were white-knuckle tight in his bonds above his head. Every muscle was tense, like he was holding
on for dear life. He did not respond to
his name. Wherever he was, he’d gone too
far to be reached by normal means.

Aya leaned in once more and began trailing tiny nips and
kisses along the now exposed neck. He
followed the path of the wire thin line encircling it with just the tip of his
tongue. He felt Yohji’s breath catch and
fresh tears slide down flushed cheeks at the touch to the highly sensitive scar
tissue. He continued to cover every inch
of the golden column with his lips and tongue until he reached the still
rapidly fluttering pulse. He grazed his
teeth across it, back and forth, pressing closer with each pass. Yohji’s body responded, heart racing, chest
heaving, hips rolling. Once Yohji’s body
felt as though it was about to snap, Aya knew it was time. He called out Yohji’s name and immediately
bit down on the jugular at his lips.
Emerald eyes snapped open as the golden body arched into Aya’s. Yohji threw his head back farther, finally
fully offering his throat. Had his hands
been free, he would have been pressing Aya closer. Even the additional pain of barely healed
skin being stretched and abused only made the pleasure that much sharper. He knew that he was being marked and he
relished it. The ritual of possession
had begun and the anticipation of what was to come made him whine out Aya’s
name.

Aya responded to the summons by bringing his lips to
Yohji’s. It started simple, the barest
meeting of lips in greeting. Yohji
lifted his head, pressing closer. Aya
sucked Yohji’s bottom lip into his mouth, holding it with his teeth, stroking
over it with his tongue. He took
advantage of a pleasured sigh to explore the rest of his new lover’s mouth,
tasting everything. Yohji was exploring
as well, his tongue dancing and tangling with Aya’s. But, he never tried to take control of the
kiss, never battled for the upper hand.
Aya relaxed all of his weight onto the bony man beneath him as he lost
himself to the pleasure of Yohji’s mouth.
His hands loosened their stranglehold in silken hair and moved to cradle
Yohji’s face between both palms. When
their burning lungs finally forced them to part they held each other’s eyes,
each looking for reassurance.

The fiercely possessive look in Aya’s eyes made Yohji whine
again. Aya climbed from the bed and
finished stripping his prey. He took a
moment to fully appreciate and memorize the picture before him. Yohji, nude and blushing with arousal,
wanton, presented like an offering, and already bearing his mark. A triumphant smirk appeared with the thought
that that was just for him. No one would
ever see this spectacular picture except him.
He growled a little when he thought of others having seen Yohji like
this before. The blonde whimpered and
lifted his chin at the sound, already responding to his mate’s subtle
cues. He was a fast learner.

Aya spent another moment planning his course. There was power in being clothed while his
captive was not. However, the battle had
clearly already gone in Aya’s favor and Yohji was still bound. There was no reason to continue to exploit
that weakness. He quickly stripped to
remove all barriers between himself and the beautiful creature waiting for
him. Yohji gave an appreciative sigh at
the sight of Aya’s body finally revealed.
He instinctively tried to move toward the warmth he so desperately
needed, but his body only jerked as his bonds held him back. Aya took the movement as invitation and slid
his body along the flushed and panting form on the bed. He licked, bit, and kissed his way from knees
to neck, avoiding the jutting erection that pleaded for attention. It wasn’t time for that yet.

“Ay~a!” He shivered
at hearing his name moaned so desperately.
“Please.”

“Please what, Yohji?”
He wasn’t finished teasing yet and it could be heard in his voice.

Yohji’s voice was still filled with desire, but very
serious. “Please, tell me this isn’t
another dream. I…I can’t…wake up alone after this…again. Please.”

“Again?” Aya pushed
up on his arms to see Yohji’s face.
“Have you dreamed of me Yotan?”

“Yes.” It was barely
a whisper.

Aya’s breath washed over Yohji’s ear. “Tell me, Yohji. What did I do to you in your
dreams?”

“Mmmm. It was just like this,” his voice like liquid sex
dripping over Aya’s skin.

“I bound you in you dream?”

“Hai.”

“How did you feel?”
His hands continued to map the golden body below him.

“Helpless.” Said
golden body shuddered as the word was spoken.

“And?”

“Exposed. Vulnerable.”
Another shudder.

“But you liked it?”
Aya already knew the answer from the way the blonde was sinuously
writhing against him. Making Yohji admit
it was just another power play.

“Gods, yes!” Yohji
gasped out the answer as Aya began licking and sucking along his chest and
stomach.

“And did I fuck you in your dream, Yohji?”

“Ungh…yes…but first…ah!”
His sentence was cut off when a tongue swirled in his navel.

Aya wanted to hear more about the dream, being unbelievably
aroused by the idea that, on some level, Yohji had considered this
possibility. Not to mention Yohji’s
voice describing whatever it was that his hentai mind had come up with. However, he was quickly approaching the
limits of his restraint. More than
anything, he wanted to be buried in that tight ass. To fuck Yohji until he was screaming out his
name, begging for release, and completely submitting to Aya’s mastery. To mark the man within as he had without.

Calling upon the reserves of control he’d promised himself,
he pulled back.

“But first, what? What did I do before I took you,
Yotan?”

Aya was genuinely interested in the answer since he couldn’t
think of anything else he’d rather do.
He certainly wasn’t expecting what Yohji’s said next.

“My mouth.”

Aya’s cock twitched and a shiver ran down his spine at the
mental picture. Yohji felt it and went
on.

“I was bound, just like this. You straddled my chest with
your knees by my ribs.” Aya closed his
eyes, resting his forehead on Yohji’s chest, drinking the man in, and let the
dreamer paint the scene. “You grabbed my
hair at the crown to lift my head just right. With your other hand, you brushed
the head of your cock across my lips ‘til they glistened with precome. You
liked it when I traced my lips with tongue, told you how you taste, smiled at
you. I opened my mouth before you had to ask and you fed me until head of your
cock hit the back of my throat.”

It was everything Aya could do not to come just from the
story he was hearing. He wanted to put
theory into practice, but he also wanted to hear the end. And Yohji, talented though he may be, could
not talk around a mouthful of Aya. Yohji
paused a moment, letting the anticipation built, then continued his tale.

“I opened my throat and took you to the hilt. Then, I sucked
hard and reveled in the little pleasured moans you made. You pulled back a
little and let go of my hair to grip the headboard with both hands, moving
forward and putting more weight on your knees. After I lapped and kissed and
sucked on you a little more you started to move. Just shallow, easy thrusts at
first, but then you hit your stride and started fucking my mouth in
earnest.”

Yohji’s breath was ragged and he kept licking his lips as he
told his tale. Aya lifted his head and
watched him intently, realizing that this was something Yohji enjoyed. Not just the talking, but also the act he was
describing. He wanted to know more about
that aspect.

“Tell me how you felt with my cock in your mouth, Yotan,” he
purred.

Yohji’s hips involuntarily jerked forward at the sultry
request. He couldn’t help striving for
contact where he really needed it. Just
talking to Aya about one of his favorite pastimes had him so hard that it hurt. Giving head was an art form as far as Yohji
was concerned and he knew that there were few who could match him for
skill. Much of what made him so good at
it was his enthusiasm. It’s easy to
excel at what you truly enjoy and there are few things that he enjoyed more
than wrapping lips and tongue around heated flesh.

“Oh, gods, Ayan! It was incredible. So hot and hard,
throbbing against my tongue. Your skin like silk on my lips and your taste,
like nothing I’ve ever known. Salty and sweet, habit-forming.”

“Yotan…” Aya breathed
out the name. It was one thing to think
about the pleasure he could find in that warm, wet cavern. But, thinking about his lover’s pleasure at
having him there was quickly undoing him.
Yohji seemed to sense how close he was.
Though Aya had forcibly kept from touching himself while he listened, he
was starting to rhythmically grind his erection against the matching one below
him. The blonde moved to the final
chapter of his narrative.

“I kept taking all that you could give me, Aya. Moaning and
humming trying to send you over the edge. I felt your balls tighten and knew
you were almost there and I was dying to taste you. Finally, after a few more
thrusts, you grabbed my hair again, holding me in place so you could come down
my throat. It felt so good to have you pulsing and spurting on my tongue. You
slipped back a little, so I could taste you. Then, you pulled out completely
and finished coming all over my face. I’d never felt so…so owned before.”

That was it for Aya. With
a feral growl he moved up to straddle Yohji’s chest.

Yohji grew impossibly harder from what he knew he was to
receive. ‘A dream come true,’ he thought and smiled.

Aya started exactly as Yohji had told him, glazing Yohji’s
lips in precome. But, Aya was already
teetering precariously close to the edge and he knew this would not be drawn
out like the dream. ‘Another time,’
he promised himself.

The moment Yohji parted his lips Aya unceremoniously plunged
in. Yohji relaxed himself and accepted
all of him. Knowing that the violet-eyed
man didn’t have far to go, he immediately began sucking on the column of flesh
invading his mouth. Aya cried out from
the bliss and began thrusting, fucking Yohji’s mouth with abandon. Yohji moaned when Aya began moving. He couldn’t get over how good it felt to have
Aya take control, to pin him down and take him however he wanted. It felt, oddly, right.

‘Again, Kudoh, you are seriously fucked up,’ he
thought. Then, he smiled inwardly
thinking, ‘and I’m about to be seriously fucked.’

After only a few thrusts, Aya again did exactly as Yohji had
described, grabbing his hair and coming down his throat, on his tongue, and
eventually, on his face. He slid off of
Yohji’s body and collapsed bonelessly next to him. The orgasm had been absolutely
mind-blowing. He reached over and turned
the grinning blonde’s face to him. He
licked Yohji’s lips before driving his tongue into that talented mouth. The taste of himself combined with Yohji’s
own, unique spice and the sight of Yohji’s face striped with his seed was
enough to reawaken Aya’s arousal. He
wiped Yohji’s face with his fingers, then offered them to the blonde to be
licked clean. The older man accepted the
digits without hesitation, rolling his tongue around them and sucking gently.

Aya withdrew his fingers and moved off of the bed without a
word. He bent down and started sorting
out the discarded clothing. Yohji saw
Aya grab his shirt and was stunned motionless.
When the facts of the situation hit him, he turned his face away. He couldn’t watch. He felt a flare of immense hurt and then the
creeping darkness that he’d been wearing like a shroud for months moved back
in.

‘Should have known that I really was being used. Don’t
know why I expected him to be any different from…’ He
refused to finish that thought. Aya was
different. Wasn’t he?

But, Aya was leaving and he couldn’t take it. He had the fleeting thought that hopefully
Aya would remember to untie him, but he didn’t really care. For a moment, he had let himself believe that
Aya wanted him. Really wanted him. Not Kudoh the slut. Not the happy-go-lucky playboy. Not any one of the masks he’d worn, but the
real Kudoh.

Aya had asked for that once, ages ago it seemed.

‘He really has given up on me. And why not? I gave up,
too. So, why am I about to cry? I’m not supposed to feel anything, damn it!
Damn him!’

A shiver ran through him as the breeze from the balcony
cooled the sweat drying on his skin. The
once raging erection was flagging with the chill of the air and his
thoughts. He wished he could just curl
up and disappear. He’d had his share of
one-night stands, not nearly what everyone thought, but enough. He’d even employed “the world’s oldest
profession” when things were bad and he was desperate. Still, he’d never felt so used and so
filthy. Even if Aya threw a couple thousand
yen on the table before he walked out, like so many before him, Yohji couldn’t
feel any cheaper.
- 6
- 7
- 8
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Not Now, Not Ever

Disclaimer: Idon’t own Weiss; I’m not getting paid to torture the boys. I gladly do it for free! This is a work of fanfiction and is not forprofit.

Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I
don’t own Weiss; I’m not getting paid to torture the boys. I gladly do it for free! This is a work of fanfiction and is not for
profit.