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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
- 7
- 8
- 9
Persistence

“Urgghh,”
Yohji said articulately. It was the best he could do, he’d had
a lot of scotch and he had an extra tongue in his mouth.

Aya
drew back, just a breath. “Shut up, Yohji.”

“No–“
Yohji grabbed a fistful of red hair and pulled those lips from his.
“Aya, you’re drunk, and–”

“And
you’re beautiful.” Aya shoved, Yohji flailed, then
tumbled backwards. Into the Seven’s back seat. Aya leaped after
him, straddling his hips and catching his hands.

“God,
you haven’t had a date in a while, have you?”

“Kudou...”
Aya growled, “shut up!”

“Aya...ngggh!!”
Yohji gasped as Aya rocked his hips, sending molten lust screaming
through the blonde. God, he was sitting right there, and he
wasn’t shy at all and even drunk this was not what Yohji
had expected–

“That’s
better,” Aya muttered. He shifted again, Yohji moaned. Aya
looked smug. Then those gorgeous eyes trailed over Yohji, the field
tactician plotting the best way to–

“Ay-ngghh,”
Yohji gasped, as those lips clamped on his neck. Oh God, he felt
good, Aya–

Get a
grip! some small sober part scolded. Aya was drunk and they were in
the parking lot and his damn legs were still hanging out of the car
and Abyssinian would spend a week killing him if Yohji took
advantage!

If
anyone could interpret–unhhh–Yohji being held down
and–ohhh–devoured in his own car as–ahhhh–Yohji
taking advantage, it was– “A-YA!”

Aya
gave him a breathless, breathtaking, naughty grin. “Didn’t
think there was room in there for more, ne, Yohji?”

Oh.
my. God. Aya’s hand was in his pants! While Yohji was reminding
himself to struggle, Aya had pinned both wrists with one hand,
freeing the other to–

“St–yurrr–stop,
Ay–nggghh–stop it!” God, he was already rock-hard,
Aya was going to make him–

“Mou,
Yohji-kun,” Aya said, the first time Yohji had ever heard him
use that word, “you don’t sound like you mean it.”
He pouted, mischief sparkling in those incredible eyes. Then that
naughty grin came back. “Do you have any idea,” he asked,
with a squeeze to make Yohji moan again, “how long I’ve
wanted to taste you?”

“T-t-taste
m-me?” Yohji stuttered, entranced and seduced and Kami-sama how
was he supposed to fight this?

Aya
ran a fingernail up Yohji’s length, watching Yohji shiver.
“Taste you,” he confirmed. And he bent that beautiful
head, licked those luscious lips–

Yohji
wailed and twisted and leaped, leaving Aya astonished and alone in
the car. He had to resist, damn it, he had to. He’d gladly
accept being tortured to death for just one night with this gorgeous
redhead, but Aya had said he wanted him always, not just when he was
drunk, and if Yohji let Aya have his way tonight, tomorrow Aya would
hate him and Yohji couldn’t stand the thought of loving the man
only once and he had to stay firm, and–

K’so,
firm was not a problem! Yohji fastened his pants–how the hell
had Aya undone them one-handed?–and lit a cigarette with
trembling hands and tried to think calming thoughts. Cold water,
getting up early, Aya glaring–don’t think of Aya!

The
one he was trying not to think of had that naughty grin again. The
redhead stepped slowly out of the car. Yohji kept it between them.

“Stop,
Aya, please, I don’t want–“

”Liar.”
Aya tried to rush him, Yohji vaulted over the hood.

“Aya–“

”Kawaii!”
a woman squealed. “Yohji-chan is playing hard to get!”

Oh
shit. Several people laughed, but Aya didn’t stop stalking.
God, if he didn’t even care–Aya just grinned wider.

“They
do know you here.” He lunged, Yohji yelped and barely twisted
out of reach. If Aya weren’t drunk, this would have been
over–if Aya weren’t drunk, this sure as hell wouldn’t
be happening!

”Jiro,
I’ll bet a thousand yen on the redhead!” a man called.

“No
bet, Kudou wants caught!”

Oh,
damn, damn, this was bad. From being on the other side, Yohji knew a
hundred and one ways to ‘accidentally’ get caught, but
not one single way to escape a man who wouldn’t take no for an
answer, and who had come here in his car and lived with him
besides...

Lived
with him. Aya-chan. Aya-chan could reach him. Drunk, insane or dead,
Aya’s universe revolved around his imouto.

“Aya!
Let’s go home.”

“Of
course, Yohji.” Aya’s smile was positively evil. “Just
get in the car, Kudou-san.”

“Behave
till we get home, Aya.” And please, Aya-chan, be home, don’t
have taken advantage of an evening’s freedom to stay at
Keiko’s... “Behave till we get home, or we’ll have
an accident. You don’t want to leave Aya-chan to Ken to take
care of, do you?”

Anger
sparked those incredible eyes. Aya climbed over the door, buckled
himself in and crossed his arms. Yohji sighed relief.

“Mou,
Yohji-chan!” Shit, it was Mamiko, half of Tokyo would know the
story by dawn. “Yohji-darling, call me tomorrow!”

Aya
studied the girl as Yohji got in. “If he calls you,” he
said, “I will kill you.”

Oh
shit...

“Kowaii!”
Mamiko squeaked.

Yohji
lit a cigarette, realized he had one, stuck both in his mouth and
drove. Had to get the crazed redhead to his sister, then get to a
shrine and pray Aya still felt this way tomorrow...

From
the moment he learned of her, Yohji had always known Aya-chan was a
miracle worker. From what Aya had survived just to go on protecting
her, from the changes she had wrought in icy Abyssinian simply by
waking up, he had known there was something incredible about the
girl. Now he wondered again at her influence. Aya sat still with his
arms crossed, but the way he looked at Yohji–only Aya-chan
could have kept him in that seat. Yohji knew what the redhead was
thinking, could feel his eyes as well as he had the man’s hands
a few minutes ago, could–

Don’t
look at Aya, Yohji. Smoke your cigarettes and pay attention to
traffic and don’t look at the drop-dead gorgeous redhead
plotting how best to screw your brains out just as soon as–

Don’t
think about Aya, Yohji.

Better,
think about Aya. Think about him threatening–no. If Aya said he
would kill someone, Aya killed them, that was not a threat. Oh, wow.
Aya was possessive. Well, duh, but possessive of Yohji. And
with Yohji watching his back, Aya had let down his guard, had been
Ran for a little while tonight. Aya wanted him, had wanted him for a
long time, Aya was possessive, Aya trusted him–

If
those thoughts didn’t give Yohji the strength to resist
temptation for the few hours it would take Aya to burn through the
scotch, nothing would. Yohji focused on how to keep Aya’s
virtue safe for one night, and tried not to think about everything he
was going to do to the man tomorrow. Until a warm hand landed high on
his thigh, and he jumped.

“Aya!
We’ll get in an accident!”

“Mou,
Yotan,” Aya had unsnapped his seatbelt, now he pressed up
against Yohji to breathe in his ear. “I remembered,” he
whispered. “You never wreck the Seven.”

“There’s
a first time for everything!”

“Ayan,”
Aya finished. And giggled. “You were right. I got drunk.”

“You
sure did.” Drive, Yohji, just drive–he yelped as Aya
slipped a knee across his lap, ducked under his arm to straddle him.
Hell was a lap-ful of redhead and not being able to– “Ayan!
We’ll get pulled over! Do you want to spend the night in jail?”

“If
they leave the handcuffs on you,” Aya murmured, nuzzling his
cheek. Yohji bit his lip and didn’t look at the redhead. Who
would have guessed Fujimiya had such an dirty mind? He probably
thought like that all the time, hiding evil thoughts behind that icy
calm, pondering bondage kink while he did ikebana–

Fujimiya’s
evil hands dove into Yohji’s pants. He squeaked, the car
fishtailed.

“AYA!
Aya-chan, remember Aya-chan!”

The
redhead removed his tongue from Yohji’s neck. “She’s
not here,” he muttered. And nibbled. Yohji squirmed, he
couldn’t help it. Aya shifted, rubbing his hard and hot groin
against Yohji’s. The blonde squeaked again. “I like
that,” Aya muttered. “The great Kudou Yohji squeaks.”

Ooh,
he was going to pay for that! Later– “Aya, I can’t
drive like this. Get your ass over there and buckle up before
Aya-chan has to bail us out of jail!” Or ID them in the damn
morgue...

God,
Abyssinian was adorable when he pouted.

God,
Yohji couldn’t believe he’d just thought that.

Why
the hell had he chosen a club so far from the Koneko?

It
turned out to be a good thing. When Yohji finally turned the car off,
Aya was slumped against the far door. Yohji smiled, lit another
cigarette and brushed crimson hair back.

Tomorrow.
Tomorrow would be turnabout, when Aya wasn’t full of liquid
courage. Tomorrow would be Yohji’s turn. He chuckled and went
to unlock the door. He’d carried a wounded Aya often enough to
know the redhead wasn’t nearly as light as he looked.

A
light was on inside, and–how cute, Aya-chan was asleep in the
living room! Too bad Aya didn’t get to see her watching for him
for once–instinct twanged, but Yohji had been drinking too. He
whirled, when he should have just run.

“Gotcha,”
Aya announced as they hit the floor. He had Yohji’s hands
again. His eyes went to Yohji’s neck. “I think I was
right about–“

”Aya-chan!”
Yohji whispered frantically. “Aya, your sister is right there!”

Those
incredible eyes narrowed, Aya looked up. Studied the situation for a
long moment. Looked back to Yohji. With that naughty–no, the
evil–grin.

“Don’t
make a sound,” he ordered.

In
the kitchen?!? With his sister three meters away? Aya was twisted!
Yohji wished it didn’t turn him on so much, he needed his blood
in his brain– “Aya, you know I’m loud!”

“Hn.”
Aya cocked his head, Abyssinian thinking tactically. “And I
know you’re sneaky. I’m not letting you go again, Kudou.”

“Aya–“

”So,”
Aya went on, “I’ll keep you quiet.” He kissed
Yohji, who suddenly forgot why he wanted to escape–

Tomorrow.
For tomorrow. Mouth occupied, hands pinned, Yohji drummed his heels
on the floor. Aya drew back with a hiss.

“Fine,
Kudou.” He rolled to his feet. “Sleep alone if you can.”

Tomorrow,
Yohji reminded himself, watching Aya’s graceful stalk away. For
tomorrow. He sighed and lit a cigarette, sat there smoking on the
floor. When it was done he went and lifted Aya-chan. Amazing Aya
hadn’t done it. Well, he did realize he was drunk.

She
murmured in her sleep, Yohji planted a kiss in her hair. “It’s
just me, Princess. Just Yohji.” He tucked her in her
bed–completely dressed including her house slippers, he wasn’t
a fool, really–and stumbled to his own room. What a night. He
yawned and kicked the door shut behind him. A roller coaster, that
was how his mother would–

It
was just too much. Instinct didn’t even bother to warn him,
Yohji was on his back on the bed before he realized he wasn’t
alone.

“Gotcha,”
Aya gloated again. “You forgot I don’t give up, Kudou.”

This
was getting ridiculous. Yohji was not made to keep his hands off
gorgeous willing redheads. It hurt. A lot. In more than one place.
“How much are you going to remember tomorrow, Ayan?”

“Who
knows?” Aya wiggled on top of him, his mind on other things.
“I’ve never been drunk before.”

“You
sure do it well.”

“Mind
over matter, Kudou. You should try it sometime. Right now, though–“
Aya put Yohji’s wrists under his knees, then peeled off his
zipper and buckle shirt, “–just shut up.” Yohji
forgot to struggle as Aya leaned to fumble through the bedstand
drawer. Kami-sama, Aya was perfect, pale skin glowing in the faint
light from the street–

Focus,
Kudou you idiot. “You’ll never find anything that way,”
he said. “Let me get it.”

Aya
cocked his head, then released Yohji’s hands. “No tricks,
Kudou. You know you want me.”

“We
both know that,” Yohji admitted, since the man was straddling
the hardest erection Yohji had ever had in his life. He reached into
the drawer, pulled out a new tube of lube–don’t notice,
Aya–and something else. Aya chuckled.

“That’s
more like it,” he said, taking the handcuffs. “I’ve
waited too long, Yohji. I’m going to have you.”

“I’m
yours, Aya.” Yohji tried not to think about how right that
seemed. Later, Kudou, later, right now deal with now... Aya took his
wrist.

“Not
yet,” he said. He reached for the headboard. Yohji grabbed,
twisted, and handcuffed Aya to the bed. And rolled away, fast.

“I’m
sorry!” he said, dodging Aya’s kick. “Aya, I’m
sorry! But you’re drunk, and I couldn’t stand it if you
hated me tomorrow, and–“

”Balinese,”
Abyssinian said softly, “unlock me. Now.”

“No.
And don’t try ripping the bed apart, I brought Aya-chan
upstairs. You don’t want her coming in here, do you?”

“You’re
dead, Kudou.” He went on, of course. Aya had imagination, an
extensive experience with killing techniques, a personal knowledge of
what upset Yohji the most, and a deep, expressive voice. Yohji threw
a blanket over his friend, and curled up with the duvet and a pillow
on the floor. And stuck his fingers in his ears.

Tomorrow.
This had to get straightened out tomorrow. Didn’t it?
Kami-sama, if Aya went back to his icy ignoring Yohji was sure he
would cry, and self-respecting assassins weren’t supposed to do
that. It was in the rulebook.

Aya
changed tactics, telling Yohji in explicit detail what he had planned
to do after the handcuffs. Yohji whimpered and debated a shower,
decided it would be wasted effort if Aya was still talking when he
came back, and besides there wasn’t enough cold water in Tokyo,
and snagged another pillow, to clamp over his head.
- 7
- 8
- 9
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Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained