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Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained	By : KDSarge Category: Weiß Kreuz > General Views: 6318 -:- 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
A
“Normal” Evening Out

Before
going out with Aya, Yohji had thought Heaven would be a beautiful
redhead smiling and dancing and snuggling. He had been so very, very
wrong. Heaven was a gorgeous redhead glaring as he danced,
threatening amputation to anyone who touched. Heaven was that redhead
letting Kudou Yohji guard his back.

Which
he did. As carefully as he’d ever done on a mission, and as
fiercely. And every time he glared, he gave a silent snarl of “mine!”
that felt so damn good, Yohji was having maybe the best night ever.
For anyone. It helped that 1) he looked fantastic, in metallic green,
skin-tight and missing the midriff, of course, Yohji wasn’t
into that modesty thing. And 2) that he had, by far, the most
beautiful date in Tokyo.

Aya,
to Yohji’s delight, seemed to be forgetting that he was into
modesty. For one thing, Aya could dance. Oh, he’d known the man
could learn, Abyssinian’s grace in dealing death had a
counterpart in Ran, after all. But Aya hadn’t needed to learn.
All he’d needed was three shots of Jameson, willingly knocked
back since darling Aya-chan had made her brother promise he would
have fun, and Aya never broke a promise.

Speaking
of fun–Yohji tapped Aya’s shoulder, jerked back before
his fingers got disconnected. “Another drink?” he yelled
over the music. Aya turned, Yohji’s eyes widened. God, he was
the luckiest man on the planet, his stunned mind stuttered. Again.

On a
normal day, Aya’s eyes were incredible. But Aya-chan hadn’t
been satisfied with that. She had used her influence and her make-up
and lined those eyes with black, reddened the pale lips and put
glitter on the high cheekbones, taking the redhead from gorgeous to
just-try-and-remember-to-breathe. And in those pants, that made even
Yohji wonder how he’d gotten into them without help, and that
shirt, that Aya unzipped in one place as he danced, then buckled
somewhere else in one long more-tease-than-strip...

This
was Ran, Yohji knew. Abyssinian was the one doing the glaring, but
the cold and lethal swordsman could never have danced like this,
would not tease and flaunt and taunt the drooling mob around them.
Who would have thought a couple drinks was all it took to bring Ran
out?

But
it wasn’t just the alcohol, was it? Yohji was no fool, though
he acted one more often than not. He knew why Ran hid, why the killer
Aya stood in his place. Oh it was tangled, yes, what wasn’t,
where Ran/Aya/Abyssinian was concerned? But at the root was the fact
that Aya did what Ran could not. Ran was a gentle soul, Aya doused
himelf in blood for Aya-chan. Ran was a sensitive boy who had seen
his family murdered, who could not risk any more hurt. Aya was the
heartless bastard who faced the world.

Yohji
was honored and absolutely melted that it was Ran who stood before
him now. Until the redhead folded his arms and gave the blonde a
half-strength shi-ne glare. That was all Aya.

“Kudou,
don’t tell me you’re drunk already!”

Yohji
shook his head with a grin. Well, he was, but on something far more
intoxicating than whiskey. “Not yet, but that’s easily
fixed!” He grabbed Aya’s hand, delighted that the redhead
let him, and pulled to the bar.

“If
you get drunk, Kudou, I’m stopping! Someone has to drive!”

“Mou,
Ayan, have I ever wrapped the Seven around anything?”

“There’s
a first time for everything,”Aya shot his words back at him.
“Yotan.”

Yohji
staggered in shock. “Fujimiya! Did you just make–a joke?”

Ran
flushed a little, but smiled a little, too. Again Yohji was
completely charmed. Ran looked down, and took his hand from Yohji’s.
The blonde blinked a little sanity back, and turned to hail the
bartender.

“I...wanted
to thank you,” the redhead said, barely audible as he slid onto
a stool. Yohji blinked some more, and leaned closer. It had nothing
to do with the desire to shove Aya against a wall and ravish him. He
just wanted to hear better.

“For
what?”

“Bringing
me here,” Aya answered as the bartender poured their shots. “I
know this isn’t your type of place. You gave up your fun to
make sure I was comfortable.”

What?
Did he honestly think Yohji wasn’t enjoying–oh. Oh shit.
Oh damn. This ‘type of place’ was a gay club. Aya didn’t
realize Yohji was bi. Well, why would he? Yohji had never flaunted
the men as he did the women. Damn, there was a difference between
being trusted and being safe! Aya-chan should feel safe with him. And
Omi and Ken, though he liked to tease. But Aya–hell. Was that
why Ran had dared to come out to play?

Aya
thought Yohji going out with him was a sacrifice? “Aya...”
Careful, Yohji, say it carefully but say it quick, or Ran would feel
lied to– “Aya, I’ve been here before.”

“You–have?”
Damn it, damn, the man was icing over before his eyes, not angry,
just surprised and protective–

“I
like beautiful things,” Yohji said. “All beautiful
things. And you, Aya–you’re the most beautiful man I’ve
ever seen.”

Aya
would have rejected that. Ran was stunned. Yohji could have shouted
for joy, he hadn’t blown it, Ran was still in evidence,
beautiful and nervous, but trusting.

Painfully
trusting. God this was scary. There was a reason beyond the
legalities that Yohji didn’t go out with anyone under eighteen.
He didn’t want to hurt anyone, he only wanted experienced
partners who knew how the game was played. Now, though–he
didn’t want to play any games with Ran. That only made this all
the more terrifying. It would be far too easy to hurt this incredibly
sensitive, shyly trusting, stunningly beautiful innocent. Who was
also, in some way he’d thought he understood but really didn’t,
one of the bloodiest killers in Japan, the most determined, stubborn,
decisive man he’d ever met, the cold and efficient Abyssinian–

Agh!
Freak out later, Yotan! Now he leaned with excruciating slowness to
kiss Ran. Giving him all the time in the world to avoid him, to
decide if he wanted to, but Yohji had to try. Not to make the attempt
after saying something like that was an insult in itself.

Ran
wasn’t dodging, oh wow–

“Kawaii!”
squealed a too-damn-familiar voice. “Look at the sweet little
kitties!”

Yohji
jerked back, Aya slid off the barstool, someone’s forgotten
swizzle stick in his hand. Balinese wondered what Abyssinian meant to
do with that, decided he didn’t want to know. He grabbed Aya’s
wrist.

“Not
here!” He tossed his hair and glared at the interruption. “Go
away, Schuldig. And...Crawford?!?” Oh my God, Crawford in club
gear? Was that really Crawford, in red leather pants and sleeveless
top, no glasses and a red velvet choker?

There
wasn’t a chance Ran was around when Schwarz was. So it must be
Aya standing there with his mouth hanging open. Much like Yohji’s.
Crawford grinned, and that was scary enough to snap Aya back to
Abyssinian. He wrenched his wrist from Yohji, the blonde blocked him
with his body.

“Damn
it, Aya, not here!”

“Outside,”
the redhead snapped. Schuldig shook his head. He was all in gold
lame, even his headband. And he had a diamond in his navel, showing
below the three buttons of his long vest.

“Thank
you for the kind offer, Abyssinian, but we came to dance.” He
ran an eye over Aya’s body. “Though it has
been...delicious...running into you.”

Aya
tensed even more, Yohji leaned to his ear.

“They’ll
dock your pay!” he blurted. Aya-chan was the lever, as always.
“We’re not on a mission, Aya, if we fight Schwarz in a
public place you’ll be lucky to get paid for months!” The
redhead relaxed. A miniscule amount, but he did accept Yohji’s
point.

“Aww,”
Schuldig said, shoving Yohji into Aya to get to the bar. “You
two are just so cute together!” He snagged their shots, handed
one to Crawford. “Thanks for the drinks, pussycat.”

Damn.
And the night had been going so well. But Yohji knew when to cut his
losses.

“Let’s
go, Aya.” Yohji sighed as the redhead glared at him.

“I
will not be run off by Schwarz.”

“No,
don’t leave!” Schuldig agreed. “We could have so
much fun!” He tossed back the shot, smirked at Crawford. “Ne,
Crawford-san?”

“An
evening out does sound appealing.”

Yep,
that was Crawford.

“Then
let’s dance, Aya.” Drinking any more would be a very bad
idea. Damn it. Sometimes Yohji really, truly hated his life. Even
more than usual. But at least tonight Mastermind wouldn’t be
using his freaky powers to steal Yohji’s date. Though he’d
almost like to see him try. Aya still clenched the swizzle stick.

The
redhead accepted the suggestion, and for a few minutes the evening
headed back towards heaven. But then Schuldig and Crawford came to
the dance floor, and Aya glared and stiffened up, Schuldig smirked
and waved, and Yohji almost fell over on discovering stick-up-his-ass
Oracle could dance. Not as well as Schuldig or even Aya, but good
enough to make a striking partner for the German. And, of course,
they synched perfectly, years of working together as well as their
abilities let them anticipate each other–

“Oi!”
Yohji yelped, as Aya yanked him closer. “Aya–“

”Dance,”
the redhead growled, slipping his arms around Yohji’s
shoulders. “Just dance, Kudou.”

Okay,
so maybe Schwarz showing up was a good thing.

***

Schuldig
smirked at the Weiss kitties just for the principle of it, he wasn’t
feeling very snide. Brad was using him, and while he didn’t
mind that so much, the “coincidence” of running into
Abyssinian and Balinese proved this night wasn’t going to go
where he’d hoped it would. Besides that, the blonde and the
redhead had looked entirely too cuddly when he first spotted them.
He’d carefully not agreed to the deal, since he had no
intention of doing what Kudou wanted even if somehow that slut
charmed the pants off Abyssinian. But he still needed to win. It was
a matter of–snort–honor.

“Relax,”
Brad said in his ear. “This isn’t work.”

“It
sure looks like it,” Schuldig retorted, but pasted on a smile.
He clamped his mouth on demanding why Brad hadn’t just told
him. He was an assassin, damn it, not some whiny teenage drama queen.

He’d
leave that to Kudou.

“Call
it a gift from me,” Brad said, as if he were the one who could
read minds. “Is there anything you would rather do than spend
an evening with me, annoying them?”

Schuldig’s
smile stretched to sincere. And suggestive. “Perhaps,” he
said, sliding closer to dance against the brunette, “just one
thing.”

Brad
chuckled in his ear, and didn’t move away.

A
couple hours and a lot of Schnapps later, Schuldig decided he didn’t
give a damn about the Weiss boys anymore. Brad hadn’t forgotten
them, he sent drinks, which the silly kittens drank. Kudou had tried
to refuse the first round, but Schu had given Fujimiya a shove in the
pride, and he had taken both. After that Kudou took his share, just
to keep the redhead from getting schnockered. Alone, anyway. When
last spotted Balinese was wearing the stupidest grin ever, and
Abyssinian was using the blonde to stay on his feet. Not even the
redhead’s determination could stand up to that much Glenlivet.

Really,
Brad had style.

And
he had an ass, and Schu had his hands on it, and he really,
truly, didn’t give a damn where the Weiss kitties had vanished
to.

******

*evil
laughter* well??
- 6
- 7
- 8
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Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained