Halcyon

Title: Halcyon (Ch. 8)
Author: Genuinelie(s)
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Weiss Kreuz is not mine.
Pairing: AxY
Summary: The boys are finding that until death, all ends are just masked beginnings.
A/N: Continuation. We're getting there...

Please note that this chapter's rating is adult.

*****

This had been a stupid idea.

What had Ran been hoping to find? Yohji, lurking in Tokyo's gay clubs, when he was more likely to be on a plane?

Ran was an assassin. This was Yohji's purview - pretending to be a normal twenty-something-year-old. Ignoring who he'd become. Ran had difficulty being himself, let alone pretending to be someone different.

Even if he were a "normal" man - he would never wander here. The thought slipped in, surprising him. The crowd, the noise, the drunks and the drugged - it all made him uncomfortable. The thought that he could take any one of them made him feel more safe, though not at ease.

It wasn't a logical thought. He wasn't "normal". There was no point in considering what he would do if he had the choice. Yohji's ability to look beyond that - perhaps he was jealous of it.

Ran had a purpose.

No, he didn't.

He had his sister.

No - he didn't.

He had Weiss.

That was a constant. Even if members left, he realized with a start, looking at his empty vodka glass. Even if they changed, and Manx gave them new members, he would still be Weiss.

When they replaced Yohji, he would still be Weiss.

He was sure they would. Four assassins worked more smoothly, made more sense than three. Teams of two. Of course they would replace him.

And it didn't matter, not really, he supposed. Purpose or no, he knew his place.

Ran pushed up from the bar, sick. Not drunk - he'd only had one drink - not even buzzed. But suddenly he felt nauseous.

*****

Ran took the back alley out of the club, he didn't feel like being among any more people. The streets had probably emptied out some, but they wouldn't be deserted. He rounded the corner, head down to discourage the bouncer from talking to him.

He watched his feet pass over the filthy cement, kicking up mud and grey litter, discarded pill packets and cigarettes.

He rounded the corner onto the back street, and ran headfirst into someone.

His head snapped up at the same time Yohji's did.

Both of their hands were poised over weapons they weren't wearing.

Yohji's eyes, wide with horror and something else, quickly narrowed into slits behind his sunglasses.

Ran remained frozen.

After a moment, Yohji lowered his arms, stuffing his hands into his coat. His face was determined. He kept his gaze on Ran's for a moment longer, then pushed past him, toward the club.

As if he were a stranger.

The alley was deserted, and unlit.

Yohji let out a small laugh as he passed. It contained no humor, only pain.

Ran slammed sideways into him before he made it past, hand shooting out to ram into Yohji's shoulder. He spun him into the concrete of the building before he reached the corner.

He warred with himself. It took him a second to hold back from throwing the punch to his stomach, grabbing Yohji by the head instead.

He took him in, raking over Yohji's length, almost unbelieving.

He was still in Tokyo.

He closed his eyes. Yohji wasn't moving.

When he opened them again, Yohji had taken his glasses off. His face was raw in the shadowed light.

His broken expression was what Ran had needed to see.

That this decision had hurt him as well.

Ran slammed himself back into Yohji, pressing them both against the wall. His lips found Yohji's, devoured them. His hands stayed in Yohji's hair, clamped around the back of his head. Keeping him in place. Opened his mouth, Yohji mirroring him.

You can't go yet.

Yohji's hands gripped Ran's lower back, grinding the men together. He moved his hips into Ran's, in a way that wasn't necessary and felt like torture with their clothes between them. Yohji's muscles, his hardness, were both familiar and uncharted.

Finally, Ran pulled away, gasping. Yohji stepped forward after him, back into his space. Ran leaned forward, not touching him, but unable to pull away again. Yohji bent his head to look at him, eyes intense.

"I feel," he rasped at Yohji.

How could you have started this, before you left.

He reached for Yohji's belt, slid his hands down over the smooth fabric of his pants beneath his coat. Shoved him into the wall again, followed him into it. Yohji took in a ragged breath.

"You should have said so sooner." Yohji said, but it was soft. His hand reached up, ran through the bloody strands of Ran's hair. His hips bucked up into Ran's hand. "Dammit, Aya."

"Ran," He corrected immediately. His irritation for once was overshadowed by the knowledge that Yohji was right.

Yohji kissed him fiercely, then pushed him off only to grab his arm. He suddenly found himself being dragged around the corner, back to the club. "Not there," Yohji hissed over his shoulder.

The warm air of the club, the deep beat vibrating through the floor of the landing hit him like a slap. Yohji tugged him past the bouncer and down the stairs, and down another flight he hadn't seen before, and through a hallway into a back room with bodies on couches. Ran was careful not to look at them, but followed Yohji into another room.

It was a kitchen. He noticed the bill Yohji slapped into the hand of a chef before he was pulled through the doors of the staff's bathroom.

A click and the door was locked. The room had three stalls, all empty. The paint was chipping, an ugly pale green trimmed with white, like a hospital.

Yohji pushed him into the wall before he could process his response.

Not going to do this in a restroom, like a -

But he was going to.

He couldn't keep suppressing this, suppressing what he felt, passing up again on something he'd ignored, when the cost was a slower death than the one he'd always been expecting to come, when it never had -

Ran jerked into motion, tugging the coat off of Yohji's shoulders, letting the man reciprocate. Yohji slid a hand down his stomach, under the waist of his jeans, the fabric beneath, while his other hand cupped his head at his neck, his mouth traveling down Ran's throat.

Suddenly, Yohji stopped. He pulled back, leaving Ran heaving against the wall, fingers curled against the tiles.

"You said you felt. So say it."

Ran's eyes snapped fully open. He stepped forward.

"Say it!" Yohji held him off, fingertips pressing into Ran's chest.

Ran set his jaw stubbornly, started working on Yohji's pants. He grabbed Ran, throwing his arms against the wall, caught at the wrists. "Say it!"

Violet eyes flicked to the side, steeled as they returned to Yohji's. "I...care...for you."

A wicked, grim smile turned the corners of Yohji's mouth. "That's not it." He bent slightly, open mouth sliding against Ran's neck. "But I'll take it. Ran."

Ran dragged him forward with a growl, removing Yohji's belt and tugging down the zipper of his black pants. Blue silk boxers beneath. His hand gripped Yohji through them, the feel of him like a release.

He had thought he would never get the chance again. Ran passed a thumb over his tip, was gratified by the shudder that ran through the other assassin.

Yohji had finally relaxed, his body moving with a familiar fluid grace. He managed to take Ran's shirt off and tug down his jeans simultaneously. He made similar work of his boxers, and his own.

Yohji stepped back, running his eyes up and down Ran's body. "Do you know, baby," he breathed, "How long I've wanted you?"

The endearment, for once, was allowed.

Yohji turned, bent gracefully, rummaged in his coat and came out with a couple coins. Ran could only watch the play of muscles beneath his bare skin. Yohji went to the vending machine on the wall, came back with two packets. "Might come in handy?" He said with a leer laced with good humor.

Ran growled, and took them from him. Pulled open the condom, hesitated, but Yohji pulled it on Ran before he'd decided.

Ran's breath caught at Yohji's touch. He took his time, fingers playing over his length, turning into a circle, pumping him as Ran pressed his fingers into Yohji's back, kneeding him. Deftly opened the packet, slicked his hand, pressed inside. Yohji arched and Ran kissed his throat. It was rough with beginning stubble. He dragged his lips across his adam's apple, and sucked where his neck met his shoulder.

He flipped them around adeptly, before he came into Yohji's hand, and held onto him, breathing ragged. Their bodies trembled together. Yohji braced himself, palms flat into the wall, back bent. Ran began pumping him, and when his heart rate slowed enough he pressed slowly inside.

Yohji bucked onto him, faster than Ran would have liked. He caught up.

They moved together, the beat of the club still pulsing from above. Ran and Yohji finally caught the same rhythm, Yohji shuddering and pliant, Ran desperate with the force of what he was being allowed to do.

He came shuddering against Yohji, falling against the muscles of the other man's back, cheek pressed against his skin. He kept his fingers moving even as he jerked in the aftermath.

Yohji came with a shout, crumpling forward.

Ran held him up. He pulled out gently, biting hard on his lip to keep from making any noise.

He bent his head as Yohji turned. White liquid mingled between their legs. Ran closed his eyes against it.

Yohji pulled him forward, wrapped Ran in his arms. His lips moved against Ran's hair, but he couldn't make out what Yohji was saying, or if the words were even meant for him.

What had he done.

******

Tbc.