Beauty

Beauty wrapped in wire. My wire. Red hair the color of freshly spilt blood and eyes like iced amethysts. Those eyes are glaring up at me right now. If looks could kill I would be six feet underground. But looks cannot kill and I still stand, smirking down at Aya, by some strange quirk of fate, my prey for tonight. I know he will never forgive me for this particular indignity. Damn, Aya, why did you leave me no choice? Why did you bring us to this point, fighting as if we were enemies? Using our weapons against each other?

I stop smirking my victory at him and sigh instead. I dare not release him right now, that damned sword is still too close. I step forward and kick it across the concrete floor of the abandoned warehouse that has been the arena for our fight. I crouch down by his side and lean forward so that he can hear what I have to say.

“You really are a prick,” I say pleasantly, knowing the look on my face is far from pleasant.

“Fuck you,” he returns, much less pleasantly.

“Yeah, yeah, I know how you feel about me,” I say tiredly. “How you feel about all of us. You’ve walked out on us enough times, fucked us over for your precious sister and pitiful revenge. Did killing Takatori wake her, Aya? Did it bring her back to you?”

He laughs without humor, right in my face.

“Pitiful?” he demands. “When it comes to pitiful, you take the cake, Yohji. You spend years living with the ghost of a lost love. A fleeting resemblance almost gets you killed by Neu, who you then abandon us for only to have her mock you and whisper words of love for another man as you kill her! And still you don’t know if she ever was Asuka. That’s totally pathetic!”

I growl at him and consider tightening the wire until I’ve squeezed the last breath out of his lying mouth. I want to hit him so badly I can taste it like ashes on my tongue. Certainly his attitude isn’t conducive to being released any time soon.

Self-righteous bastard! What gives him the right to sit in judgment on me? I am doing a good enough job of that on my own. I definitely do not need his help.

I mean it isn’t like Aya is without a whole set of his own damned hang-ups. His almost incestuous obsession with his comatose sister had done a complete u-turn once she woke up and now he won’t even see the girl because he is ‘just a murderer’ and therefore totally unworthy to even kiss the ground she walks on. How fucked up is that?

Aya is still shooting amethyst daggers at me from those incredible eyes. And why the hell am I crouching here contemplating his beauty? Guess we’re both fucked up.

It’s not really surprising. Take four young men, no, make that one young man and three boys, let that capricious bitch called fate land them body blows that they cannot possibly recover from, and then turn them into killers. It’s a sure fire recipe for insanity and disaster. Which is why the two of us have ended up here, both quite determined to finish the other after a shouting match worthy of a Greek tragedy. Although now it comes to the crunch, I can’t do it.

Aya knows it and sneers up at me.

“Why don’t you finish it, Yohji? Do us both a favor. Come on. Just put one strand of wire round my neck and pull hard. You won’t feel a thing!”

Suddenly I’m not even tempted to do as he suggests. The lost boy makes me sigh instead.

“Oh Aya,” I whisper, “we’re just so screwed up.”

He lets his head fall back on the hard concrete and closes his eyes.

“So you won’t do it?” Good guess, Aya.

“Damned right I won’t. I have no intention of adding you to my long list of victims. It’s hard enough to live with the deaths of those who deserved it without having to live with yours.”

“I deserve it too,” he says flatly.

“No more than I do, or Ken does or Omi,” I argue.

He smiles slightly. “But that’s just it, Yohji,” he says, “we all deserve it.”

“Maybe so, but that doesn’t mean we have to be the ones to do it. Or are you suggesting that I kill Omi next and then take on a grief-maddened Ken?” There is a flicker of dark lashes before his eyes snap open.

“Grief-maddened? Why?” he queries.

“God, Aya, don’t you ever see what’s right in front of you? Ken and Omi are lovers and have been for the past two years.”

He frowns as he digests that snippet of information. Then his face clears.

“That explains a lot,” he says, then with a spell-binding about face, “are you intending to let me up any time soon?”

“Are you still determined to kill me?” I counter.

“You hurt me.” A whisper so soft I have to strain to hear it. When I do it amazes me. How does one hurt a statue, short of taking a sledgehammer to it? I don’t remember doing that so I am at a loss.

He must see my confusion as he says, “I thought you’d gotten over your ghost. Instead you replaced her with another. It hurt to see you do that to yourself.”

I have no idea what I should say to that. I mean he is absolutely right, of course, but why should it hurt him? Absentmindedly I release the wires holding him and he sits up gingerly. I am so deep in thought that it comes as a double shock when he leans forward and catches my lips with his own. Seems he’s not the only one who misses what is right in front of him.

“Aya?” I ask when I can. God his kiss is sweet.

Our psychotic redhead has of course retreated back behind his icy walls and simply glares at me. “Just forget it,” he suggests and makes a move to stand. I grab him and return his kiss. He is so not going to start this without following through. My tongue darts into his mouth and I shudder in pleasure at how good he tastes. His tongue meets mine and the kiss becomes deeper, even more intense if that is possible. It is a while before he breaks away and we stare at each other, each a little stunned by what has happened.

He recovers first and smiles slightly. “I thought you were straight, Yohji,” he says quietly. I feel my face burn.

“I…I have had some men,” I mutter, “not many but some.”

He surprises me again. “I’ve had nothing but men,” he tells me then shrugs. “Although not for a long time now.”

“You’re gay?” He nods, his eyes challenging me to make some flippant remark. I can think of nothing to say. He seems to take this as encouragement as he keeps talking.

“I’ve known since I was thirteen or fourteen,” he says. “When I was seventeen I started a relationship with this guy I worked with. My sister was the only one who knew. She used to cover for me so my parents didn’t find out. That all came to an end when Takatori decided my father should take the fall for him.”

“When my sister was settled into a ward in the hospital and I vowed to get revenge for her, I was approached by a woman who told me that I could get both revenge and my sister’s bills paid if I joined Kritiker. In my first group, I learned how to use a katana and arrange flowers. Ironic ne? There was a man there that I got emotionally involved with, but he turned out to be a traitor and I ended up by killing him. Then I was moved to another group and met another man there. That group only collected information, though, and I wanted to kill Takatori. So Kritiker sent me to Weiss. Then I met you and watched as you bedded woman after woman. Yet of all of them, you were the one who seemed to understand me the best. I’ve spent nearly three years being hurt by you. Tonight I knew I would finish it, one way or another.”

That has to be the most he’s ever said to anyone about anything, let alone things so personal to him. I guess now it’s my turn for honesty.

“I never believed I stood a chance with you, Aya,” I tell him and it’s the honest truth. “I saw your beauty, saw the caring man underneath all the ice. I know how much it hurt you when you found out who Omi really was and I know how much you did to keep us all as safe as you could. Only problem was, you did it all from a distance. You never let any of us get too close. Kept everything about the real you locked away. So, I found relief where I could and tried to forget about wanting you.”

“Are you saying it’s my fault that you let Neu in?” he asks and the glare is back.

“No, Aya, I’m not saying that. What I am saying is that, if I’d had this much encouragement then, I might not have been quite so bothered by her likeness to Asuka.”

“I did think about it,” he admits, “but if I’d made any move at that time, you would have assumed it was out of either pity or jealousy. Neither option was very appealing.”

There is nothing I can say to that because he is absolutely right. I would have believed he was martyring himself to save me. I shrug.

“At least now there are no ghosts between us,” I say quietly. “I have accepted Neu’s death at my hands and you have your sister back and whole again. Can we try?”

I almost cringe at the wistfulness in my voice. Damn! But then it’s like all my dreams have come true at once so I figure I’m entitled to a little wistfulness.

Aya climbs to his feet and reaches down a hand to me. He is smiling, really smiling, and it has to be the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

“We can try,” he says. I climb to my own feet and am just about to crush my beauty to me when fucking Ken and Omi burst into the warehouse wearing mission clothes and identical worried looks.

“Your timing stinks,” I tell them in disgust and Aya starts to laugh. I’m not sure which confuses them the most, my disgust or Aya’s laughter. All I know is two faces go wide-eyed in amazement. Omi recovers first, of course, and he shoots me a sly look before smiling happily. Guess the chibi has grown up after all.

Aya crosses the floor to retrieve his katana. Ken’s eyes follow him warily. Only Omi or I can hope to face off to a three-foot blade and the athletic one knows that. His face visibly clears when Aya calmly sheaths the blade and hides the whole in the folds of his coat. Ken then frowns at me, obviously wondering why both of us are still standing.

“I thought…” he begins, and then stops, not wanting to make matters worse.

“Not today, Kenken,” I tell him and he smiles in relief. Were things really so bad tonight that our teammates believed they had to rescue us from each other and ourselves? I have to admit that they were. Amazing what pent up frustration can do to you.

“Let’s go home,” I suggest. Aya nods his agreement while Ken and Omi are only too eager to get out of this dirty, cold warehouse. A place they believed one of us would die in. I can only hope that if Aya had won our little duel he would have been just as merciful. But then again, a pissed Aya is a dangerous Aya and he would probably have maimed me at least. Somehow the thought makes me proud of him. Yeah, I know, but I did say how fucked up I am.

When we arrive home I drag him upstairs to my room. There is no way that this of all nights is going to end with just a kiss. Aya seems to agree for he enters my room without struggle or argument. I turn to face him just inside the door.

“I just want you to know that I don’t intend to treat you like anyone else that has slept in this bed,” I tell him seriously. One of his elegant eyebrows lifts until it has disappeared under his bangs.

“You think I’d let you?” he demands just as serious. I chuckle softly. What was I thinking? This is Aya we are talking about after all.

“I just wanted you to know how different you are to me,” I say. He nods and moves past me further into the room. Suddenly he chuckles.

“I haven’t been in here since last time you trapped me with your wires,” he says. “The day you named me.” He turns to look at me his eyes luminous. I wonder if he wants me to call him Ran now. Its as if he reads my thoughts. “It was a good choice, Yohji. I destroyed innocent, naïve Ran a long time ago. I am Aya now.” I nod.

“I’ve always loved Aya,” I say. “Ran I don’t even know.” He sighs.

“Nor I anymore.” He steps towards me and places his arms around my neck, pulling my head down for another searing kiss and I go weak at the knees. Not so weak that I can’t edge us both towards the bed where we collapse in a tangle of lips and limbs.

Aya breaks away and tugs at my shirt. “Off,” he commands. I obey him without question, wanting nothing between us.

“You too,” I say as I struggle with the material. Simple tasks seem to have become insurmountable obstacles all at once, perhaps because I am shaking so much. I hear a chuckle and the shirt is yanked over my head and down my arms. I am just in time to see it land on the floor, followed an instant later by Aya’s.

I press against him, wanting to feel that soft, creamy skin against my own. He seems to have the same idea and I feel his fingers trace the scars that are the occupational hazard of our profession. I’m willing to bet he knows where each and every one of them came from. His fingers come to rest on the faint line round my neck where Neu nearly beat me at my own game and garroted me. I wince slightly, ashamed that we both have this constant reminder of my stupidity. He says nothing but his eyes narrow very slightly and he leans forward. I feel his lips on the scar before his teeth graze my neck and he sucks hard, marking me as his and not Neu’s. I gasp out his name and let my head fall back, giving him complete access to my neck and throat. I feel his smile against my skin as he marks me again, further along the same scar.

My fingers busy themselves at his waist, undoing his belt, button and pulling the zipper of his pants down. He draws away from my neck and leans over to pull his boots off before sliding his pants and a pair of black silk briefs down his legs. I watch his graceful, feline movements for a moment before removing my own boots and pants. I rarely wear any underwear and this night is no exception. Finally naked we reach for each other once again.

He gasps as I move my lips down to his neck, marking him in turn. It’s only fair after all. I then shift my attention and attack his pale and perfect nipples, laving them with my tongue before nipping gently until they pucker up for me. Slowly I work down that wet dream of a body, reveling in the little groans and mewls my explorations are wringing from him. I want him begging, screaming my name, mine in every possible way.

I stop at his navel, amazed to find it pierced and bearing a bar with an emerald set in the end of it. I glance up his body and find him blushing though I don’t know why. I grin, letting him know that I approve of such a toy and tweak it slightly eliciting a soft moan in response. It is time to move on and I kiss my way towards his erection although I don’t touch it yet. Instead I leave little nips and kisses over his inner thighs. He is panting and thrashing now, wanting some sort of completion but too proud to ask for it. Ah but you will, Aya, you will.

I run my tongue over his balls and his hips come right off the bed. I grab them and force him back down while I continue tasting him teasing the end of his cock with my tongue.

“Yohji, please…”

Music to my ears, his deep voice murmuring pleas together with my name. My own erection twitches at the sound and I know I have to bury myself in him soon. I pull away from him and hear him growl in frustration. I smirk down at him.

“Patience, beauty, patience,” I whisper as I reach for the drawer in the nightstand. My fingers find what they’re seeking and I pull out a tube of lubricant.

I smear a generous glob onto my fingers and press them against his puckered opening. His hips come off the bed again in welcome but this time I don’t push him back down. I insert one finger and Aya lets out a shuddering breath. Another finger joins its fellow and he begins to thrash around, the most erotic sight I’ve ever seen. I push a third finger in and this time I find the spot I’ve been searching for. Aya screams my name and tries to impale himself further on my hand. I remove my fingers and he glares at me. Oh yes, Aya, I wouldn’t have you any other way.

I smear more lubricant into my palms and coat my erection with it before catching those incredible eyes with my own.

“Ready or not, Aya, I can’t wait any longer,” I tell him softly. The glare softens into something else and he nods.

“Do it, Yohji,” he says, “please, don’t leave me out here.” There is a catch in his voice and I growl in response, lifting his legs and pressing them up against his chest. I edge closer and press up against his opening. He mewls slightly but stays still and I slowly push my way into the heat and tightness of his body. It is almost too much and I have to stop. An impatient growl tells me that Aya is not happy with that so I withdraw a little before seating myself even deeper within him. Oh gods but it feels so good, so right somehow. Finally in control again, I start to move in earnest.

Aya moans and thrashes beneath me. “God! Yohji! Oh there, there! YES!”

I take hold of his erection and start pumping him in time to my thrusts. His body pushes up, in response, taking me even deeper into his warmth. I shout his name and drive even harder, rewarded by his screaming out my name before climaxing all over his belly and my hand. His muscles clench around me and I arch as my own orgasm takes me over. It feels like I’m coming for hours yet even so it ends too soon and I collapse against him exhausted.

I manage to roll us both onto our sides before I shudder and open my eyes. He is staring at me with an expression I’ve never before seen in his eyes makes me catch my breath in wonder. Those normally icy orbs are full of wonder and another emotion that I can only define as love. No, that’s ridiculous, Yohji. Why would such a beautiful being love you? Again he seems to read my thoughts as his hand reaches up to touch my cheek and he smiles that stunning expression that I could wait a year to see and still not be disappointed.

“I love you,” he whispers. I feel my own eyes widen in surprise before I realize just how complete his words make me feel.

“Oh, Aya,” I whisper in return, “thank you.”

I pull out of his body, sighing at the sense of loss, but pull him even closer to me and kiss him deeply.

“I’ll try to make sure you never regret it, beauty,” I tell him softly. He chuckles quietly.

“I know you will,” he says and closes his eyes as he snuggles against me.

I lie contentedly with beauty wrapped around me and I smile to myself until a thought occurs. Did the bastard actually sound smug? Then I smile again and e mye my eyes. Even if he did, I’m certain of a very interesting future with my beauty.