Want Me

Want Me
By: Lady Jade

Weiss Kreuz. I do not own it. Wish I did though, because the boys would be wearing a whole lot of nothing a whole lot more often. Please don’t sue me. I’m just borrowing. I promise to dust the boys off and put them back unharmed. *mostly*. That much aside, this is a Yaoi fan fiction. Don’t know what Yaoi is? Then SWEET JESUS, hit the back button NOW and find the nearest anime web site and look up the defini. Lo. Lol. Ok. Last warning. Boy’s having sex with boys. Don’t like, don’t read. This is a NC17 Fiction. There will be a 3 some towards the end. Second warning: No kids, innocents or people with heart conditions. This is a Y x O, AxOxY in that order. Maybe someday, I will write another chapter and throw Ken into the mix. *uh oh* Heh. Anyways.

A/N: Ok, Aya is EXTREMELY hard to write in character. I am sorry. When you write him, you either have to write him a little OOC, or spend 100 pages showing him gradually changing. I’m not that patient, so if Aya is a little…off, I’m sorry. It was either this, or a life sucking fiction that would take someone a week to read. *god help me, I could do it, but I could never post it, it would eat gazillions of bandwidth* So anyways, I’ve yakked enough. Enjoy.
Cheers!
-Watari’s girl

~*~

Omi stomped up the stairs and slammed the door to his room behind him, jamming the temperamental bolt home that locked his door shut and slumped against the wall. His fingernails dug into his palms so hard that he felt a trickle of blood start. Sighing, he slid down the wall, pulling his knees to his chest.
“Dammit!” He swore, pounding his knuckles into the carpet until he was sure something had to be broken in his wrist.
“Omi.” Aya’s icy voice ghosted from the other side of the door.
“Go the FUCK away.” He snarled, and then clapped a hand over his mouth to stop the tirade that was waiting, just at the tip of his tongue. He could feel the waves of astonishment roll from the other side of the door. He almost smiled to think that that was the fifth swear word he’d said in the last five minutes, and he was sure it had startled the others.
Good. He thought smugly.
“Omi, stop acting like a child!” Aya grated.
That was it. Last straw. Omi stood and punched the door at just the level where he knew Aya’s head had to be.
“I’ve FUCKING HAD IT with being treated like a CHILD. I am not being CHILDISH, I’m angry, and I do not want to talk to you because I feel lihovihoving my foot up your GLACIAL ASS until it sees sunlight! I saved you out there Aya, and you couldn’t even say thank you, you blew me off and then you treated me like I was five when I asked if you were ok! I’ve had it, I am NOT three! I am a man, and I deserve to be treated like one!”
There was another moment of astonished silence where Omi could almost feel Aya holding his ringing ear.
“I’m sorry. You are not a Takatori. I know that. Do you?” The words were devoid of all emotion, so quiet Omi was scarce sure he heard them. And then there was the sound of receding footsteps.
Omi suddenly deflated, all his anger gone, it left him feeling terribly foolish. Aya might have had it coming, but he didn’t deserve it. Not really. Omi curled his bruising wrist to his chest and closed his eyes and cried.

~*~

There was a soft rap at the door.
“Omi…its Ken, can I come in?” Omi shivered, silencing his sobs in the elbow of his sleeve. “Omi please?” Ken pleaded.
“Go away.” Omi grumped, his normally sotto voice rough with tears.
“Omi, Aya said he was sorry, that never happens, please come out and at least have some dinner before Yohji eats it all!”
Omi really couldn’t be mad at Ken, but then again, he was in no state to leave his room, and he was certainly not hungry.
“No thanks…I’m not really hungry, go ahead without me, ok?”
“Omi?”
“I’m alright Ken.”
“Are you sure?”
Omi was tempted to tell the truth, but common sense overrode.
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“Alright, if you are absolutely sure…”
“I am…go eat dinner Ken.”
“Alright.” The voice was reluctant, but eventually Ken too wandered off. And Omi sighed and snuggled down further into his sweatshirt.

~*~
He woke to someone knocking on his door again. He sighed and shifted, uncurling and had to stretch a cramp out of his back. Twisting, he reached out to lean against that wall and had to stifle a yelp. He had forgotten about his wrist. There was another knock, and then a click, and the bolt came unlatched and the door swung open.
“Omi?” It was Yohji, blinking into the darkness and waiting for his eyes to adjust from bright hall light to the cave that was Omi’s sacred territory. Omi stared at him in confusion; Not sure how the hell the credit card toting playboy had used that thin piece of plastic to open the door.
“How the HELL did you do that…and more importantly why?!” Omi demanded angrily as he moved te cee center of the room, effectively blocking Yohji from coming in too far.
Yohji just shook his head.
“Ken said you had yourself barricaded in here and wouldn’t come out. Someone had to check on you.
“Check on me?!” Omi spluttered. “I am FULLY capable of taking care of myself thanks very much. Now get the HELL out.”
Yohji blinked at him, perplexed.
“What’s wrong Omi, I’ve never seen you this angry.” Yohji’s voice had dropped to a soothing baritone that took the edge of Omi’s anxiety almost instantly. “It has to be more than you are telling us.” Yohji’s voice resonated in the room in a manner that made Omi’s skin crawl, and not with fear.
“Go away Yohji.” Omi demanded. Part of him wanted to run to the older assassin right then and throw himself into his strong arms. The other part needed to retain whatever dignity he had left.
“No.” The lanky blond stated as he stepped into the room and closed and bolted the door behind him, and dropped the credit card into his back pocket.
“You’ve been crying Omi. Tell me what’s wrong?” The voice was gentle and sympathetic. Omi turned his back steadfastly to Yohji, pretending to be interested in something outside his window. Anything to hide his blush of embarrassment at having been caught.
“I wasn’t crying.” Omi replied stubbornly.
He heard Yohji move, but had not been expecting the sudden touch. One strong arm wrapped around his waist, the other let long fingers trail across his cheek, coming away damp. Yohji said nothing, just simply rested his cheek sympathetically on top of Omi’s head. Omi tolerated that for a little less than a minute, and then struggled briefly, the scuffle that ensued left Omi on his back on his bed, and Yohji kneeling over him, and twisting his injured wrist into a submission hold. Omi thought he would faint. His wrist already hurt, and Yohji was gradually increasing the pressure on it. Omi could feel the weak hot/cold sensation that left him almost certain he would be sick; and then, before he could bite it back, he cried out.
“It HURTS!” He barked, burying his face into his duvet cover, trying not to make a further fool of himself. To his astonishment, the pressure was gone instantly.
“Omi?” Yohji whispered. “That shouldn’t have hurt that badly.” The blonde gently stroked the beads of sweat from the younger Weiss member’s forehead.
“Well it DID, ok?” Omi hissed as he struggled not to cry and cradled his wrist protectively to his chest.
“Let me see.” Yohji demanded tenderly.
“I’m ok.”
“Omi!”
“I…” Omi stuttered, and then before he knew it, tender fingers had cajoled his arm away from his chest, and were ghosting over the bruised knuckles and the swollen skin of the smaller Weiss member’s wrist.
“How did you do this?” Yohji whispered.
“I was stupid.” Omi admitted as he sank back into the blankets.
“I can see.” Yohji stated as he crawled onto the bed next to Omi.
“Yohji?”
“Hmmm?” The deep voice purred.
“Can I tell you something, that you won’t tell anyone else?”
Yohji nodded, and then immediately had to wrap a bawling Omi in his strong embrace.
“What happened...”? Yohji breathed into the delicate seashell of Omi’s ear.
“Yohji! Its not fair!” Omi sobbed, then buried his face in the soft fabric of lanky blonde’s t-shirt.
“What’s not fair?” Yohji prompted as he patted Omi through a set of hiccups.
“I met this guy at the club…”
“Club?!” Yohji echoed in astonishment.
“Yeah, I know I told Aya and Ken that I was going to the library to do some research…but…I just needed to get out…I don’t know…”
“You went to a CLUB!?”
“Well…”

~*~

“…And then he just LEFT me there. He said he didn’t want me because…because I was… its not like It’s a disease or something, I’m sure I wouldn’t have been THAT bad…but…Yohji…am I…is there something wrong with me that I can’t see?” Omi’s voice was thick with unshed tears. Yohji was broodingly silent, his gray eyes flashing with a desire that appeared to have something to do with homicide.
“No. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you Omi, believe that, alright?” he whispered as he planted a tender kiss to the smaller assassin’s brow.
“But why? Did I do something wrong?”
Yohji gathered the younger man more tightly to his chest.
“No, you did nothing wrong!” Yohji’s voice was forceful. “You offered him something special; it’s not something that happens every day. Maybe he just couldn’t handle it.”
“But…am I…ugly? I know I’m not the best looking…I’m not strong or…”
“Omi!” Yohji growled. “Don’t ever say that again. You are amazing, you are beautiful. If he was too blind to see that, then that’s his fault. You offered him a gift that someone only gets once in a lifetime. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Yohji. If there is nothing wrong with me, would you?”
“What?” Yohji startled, pushing himself up onto one elbow so that he could make better eye contact.
“Would you…with me?”
“Would I?” Yohji whispered in disbelief.
Omi’s eyes filled up with unbidden tears.
“See! I knew it! I knew there was something wrong!” Omi attempted to struggle out of Yohji’s grasp and flee. It did not work. Yohji had him in one pounce, pushing him down into the mattress and holding him until his struggles ceased.
“Omi, do you know what you are offering to me? Don’t you want it to be with someone special?”
“But you are special.” Omi whispered. “I trust you more than I trust anyone else. Why wouldn’t I want to give this to you? At least I know it will mean something to you!”
“It doesn’t mean anything to you?” Yohji asked.
“No…yes…well, not really…it’s just…”
“Just what?” Yohji prompted.
“I just need to be able to trust someone that much. That’s what’s important to me…and if I can’t trust you…Yohji… who can I?”
“Omi, I don’t think you know what you are asking.”
“I know damn well what I’m asking Yohji, I am not a complete child!”
“I didn’t say that Omi!”
“You meant that. All you see when you look at me is a boy, not a man. You don’t touch me or even hug me like you do the others. It’s like I’m some sort of untouchable virgin prince that you and apparently every man on this planet thinks they would be sullying to be with.” Omi wrenched himself from Yohji’s grasp and pushed himself to his feet.
“All I want is to be able to be with someone who gives a damn about me and isn’t afraid of me, someone who knows who I really am and cares anyways. But no one can! I know that now. Stupid me. My mistake!” He snarled as he stormed from the room, twisting the lock open and tromped away down the hall to the bathroom and locked himself in.
He took several heaving breaths to steady his stomach, which felt like it was about to reject todays and all of last week’s contents; and hopped up onto the counter and rested his forehead against the mirror. He studied his reflection up close. A pair of sad aquamarine eyes gazed back at him critically. He peered gravely, from his mop of strawberry blond hair, to his smooth ivory skin. He couldn’t really find a flaw, but then again, maybe it was something he was missing. A few more steadying breaths and he didn’t feel like the world was going to crash in on him. Five minutes had past, maybe Yohji had given up. He heard a soft knock at the door. Or maybe not.
“Hold on.” Omi sighed quietly as he slid down from the counter. “You’ll just let yourself in anyways.” He muttered. He cringed at the soft laugh from the other side of the door.
He opened it a crack and a pair of blue gray eyes met his.
“Omi, will you come with me please?” Yohji whispered.
Omi blinked.
“Why?”
“Because.” Was all Yohji said.
Omi tried to shake his head and back away, but a strong hand hooked over the door so it could not be shut.
“Please?” Yohji pleaded, his voice deep with some emotion Omi could not place.
“Alright.” Omi acquiesced as he opened the door, staring intently at his toes.
Gentle fingers grasped his good wrist, giving him a tug. Omi balked for a minute, but Yohji quickly wrapped his free arm around the smaller Weiss member’s waist, pulling him down the hall.
“Where are we going Yohji?” Omi asked.
“My room.”
Omi balked again, nearly making Yohji walk up the back of his heels.
“Its not as bad as all that.” Yohji whispered.
“What do you mean?” Omi asked, his breath now coming in nervous gasps.
“Come with me, and you’ll see.” Yohji encouraged, giving Omi another little push down the hall in the direction of his room.

~*~