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On The Run	By : JetMykles Category: Weiß Kreuz > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 3313 -:- 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
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"On The Run"

Fan fic by Jet Mykles

Rated R for this part. Whole fic together is NC-17

This one contains language an implied sexual situations

I don't own or claim the boys of Weiß Kreuz. I merely admire them greatly.

This takes place right after my other fic, Night Out at http://anime.adult-fanfiction.org/story.php?no=54421565.

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Ken was warm and happy. Happier than he'd been for a long time. Content. He snuggled down closer
into the body he was wrapped around. Smaller, but firmly packed in all the right places.

Ken smiled. Omi.

He nuzzled the younger man's neck, letting Omi's sweet, vanilla smell lull him back to sleep. Omi wiggled back into the bend of Ken's body, pressing that sweet little ass
against…

Now Ken was awake. His eyes snapped open, immediately full of the blurry vision of hair streaked three different shades of blond and soft neck. Wondering if Omi was fully
awake, he let one of his hands trail down a smoothly muscled chest. He’d just check to see if Omi had morning wood.

Omi hummed and wiggled again when Ken’s exploration found a semi-hard cock.

Ken smiled and set to wake the blond up further. Perhaps this morning they could try what they’d never gotten to the previous night. Just the thought of being inside Omi
had Ken hard as a rock. He pressed the length of his erection against the crack
of Omi’s ass, mind whirling with possibilities.

"Oh
shit!"

Instinct drove
Ken to his knees when Omi shot up. Even without the bugnuks, Ken's fists were
ready for the danger that Omi had sensed.

Except there
wasn't any. Omi scrambled out of bed, grabbed the jeans that had been discarded
on the floor the night before and practically jumped into them.

"Uh,
Omi…" Ken's heart clenched. Was Omi upset about what had happened last
night? "What's wrong?"

Jeans on but
unbuttoned, Omi dropped to his knees before Ken on the mattress. Quickly, he
framed the brunet's face with his hands an planted a firm kiss on his lips. He
pulled back and grinned. "I forgot to send the mission report last
night." With that, he was up and off the bed, fastening his jeans as he
raced out the door.

Oh. That was okay
then. Relieved, Ken sank back onto the bed—Omi's bed—and stared up at the
ceiling. A quick glance told him that it was 5 AM. The start of a new day. A
day after sleeping with Omi. Well, mostly.

–*–

Yohji woke
halfway at the sound of Omi rushing from his room. Both he and Aya tensed. No
call of alarm was sounded and no Omi slid into the room to warn them of
intruders.

Aya relaxed
first, sinking back into the pillows and shutting his eyes.

A split second
later, Yohji followed his example and lay his head back down on the back of Aya's
shoulder. The redhead was warm, his skin was amazingly soft, the bed was
inviting and the sex from the previous night had completely worn Yohji out. Plus
it was to fucking early. He was more than content to go back to sleep.

–*–

Ken woke from a
doze at 8 AM. He was still alone in Omi's room. What the hell?

He got out of bed
and put his shorts on. The t-shirt he pulled on as he quietly exited the room.
He paused, glancing across the hall at Yohji's closed door then down the hall
at Aya's cracked door. They must be together.

A small pang of
jealousy propelled Ken down the stairs to find his own company.

Predictably, Omi
perched before laptop he had setup on the desk in the corner of the main room downstairs.
He sent a guilty look Ken's way when Ken rounded through the door. "Sorry,
Ken. I got distracted."

Ken ran a hand
through his hair. "That's okay. Something wrong?"

Omi frowned.
"I don't think so but…"

"’But’?"

"That data
we took last night is kind of weird."

"Weird
how?"

"I don't
know. It's encoded and really vague. But something about it…"

Ken had to smile.
Omi looked so damn cute, chewing on his bottom lip as he stared at the computer
screen. The blue cast of the screen in a partially lit room made his skin look
like porcelain, except for the lip, red where he’d been chewing. Those long,
slim fingers flew over the keyboard.

Ken crossed the
room and stood behind Omi's chair. Quite deliberately, he leaned in to kiss
Omi's bare shoulder.

The fingers on
the keyboard stalled.

"Did you
send the data to Krittiker?" he murmured over smooth skin.

"Yes."

He smiled at
Omi's breathless tone. "That's all you were supposed to do." He slid
a hand into Omi's hair and used it to tilt his head to the side, exposing more neck
to nuzzle. "Let Krittiker take care of the rest."

"But…"

Ken tasted the
soft skin just behind Omi's ear. He traced the fragile curve of that ear with
his tongue. "Turn off the laptop, Omi."

"Huh?"

He laughed and
took it upon himself to lean in and reach forward toward the mouse.

Omi figured out
what he was doing and snatched it away before he could close anything.
"Wait! Hold on."

Ken grinned. If
Omi was doing research for a mission, Ken was sure he wouldn’t be doing this.
But since the mission was over, all was fair. He straightened, grabbed the back
of the chair and pulled.

Omi yelped,
clutching the seat of the straight-backed chair as Ken turned it a quarter
circle. "Ken, what are you…?"

Ken dropped to
his knees, hands on Omi's knees to spread them so he could wedge closer. Willing
his smile to be seductive, he slid his arms around Omi’s waist and pulled him
forward.

Omi’s surprise
melded into a warm, smile that made Ken’s heart ache. Slim arms lifted to
surround Ken’s neck, clever fingers spearing through his hair.

Their lips met in
a kiss full of promise. A certainty that the previous night hadn’t been a
one-off thing. Ken knew, from this kiss, that Omi did really want him. He
moaned, sucking Omi’s tongue into his mouth, swallowing the taste of him as he
slid his hands over Omi’s smooth, bare back. How had he missed doing this for
years? Well, okay, the last year that Omi was legal.

Impatient with
desire, Ken pulled his hands between them and tugged at the button holding
Omi’s jeans closed. He wanted to taste more of Omi, a particular part of Omi.
As he recalled, that part tasted really good. A taste he could grow
addicted to.

Omi’s slim hand
landed on his, squeezing his fingers before he could properly get them inside
of the fly. "Wait, Ken," he gasped against Ken’s lips, "we shouldn't do
this."

Ken dropped his
mouth to kiss the flesh over Omi's rapidly beating heart, trying to shake Omi’s
hold on his hands. "Why not?"

"Yohji and
Aya…"

Ken froze. "Oh
yeah." He sat down on his heels, grimacing. "Right."

Omi laughed
softly. He bent down to catch Ken’s face with both hands, turning it up toward
him. His blue eyes shone with affection. Love? "I don't care if they know,
Kenken, but I don't think they need to see."

Ken matched his
grin, rising up closer to that beautiful face. "We could go back to your
room."

Omi rubbed the
tip of his nose on Ken’s. "Good idea. Just let me…"

Ken tilted his
head and pushed in, having to taste those lips again. Omi sighed into the kiss,
eagerly playing tongue-tag with Ken. His slim, strong legs wrapped loosely
around Ken, ankles hooking around his knees.

"How utterly sweet."

They froze, both
pairs of eyes going wide and staring at each other at the sound of the third
voice. A terribly familiar voice.

"I told you,
Yohji," said a fourth voice, also quite familiar.

Slowly, Ken and
Omi turned to see Yohji and Aya lounging in the doorway, each leaning a
shoulder against a side of the doorjamb. Loose drawstring pants nearly fell
from Yohji’s slim hips and a green robe—Yohji’s robe—embraced Aya’s lean frame,
a gaping V in front exposing his pale chest.

Yohji’s grin was
wide enough to split his face. "I’m so proud of you, Ken."

Ken felt the
blush flame his face. He pulled away from Omi, sitting back on his heels. "Fuck
you, Yohji," he grumbled.

The tall assassin
laughed. "How rude. To say such thing in the arms of your lover. Pay him no
mind, Omi."

"Stop it, Yohji,"
Omi muttered.

Ken glanced up to
see Omi wearing a matching blush as he turned back to the laptop.

Ken grimaced,
hopping to his feet. "Yeah, knock it off, Yohji."

Yohji opened his
mouth but stopped when Aya hooked a hand around his elbow and tugged. "Come,
Yotan. Let’s eat."

"But I’d rather…"

"Oh shit!"

All levity died
at the tone in Omi’s voice. Ken spun toward the youngest assassin. The two in
the doorway sped toward them.

"What is it?" Aya
demanded.

Omi’s hands flew
over the keyboard as his three teammates leaned over his shoulder. "It’s us!
This data is all about us." He pointed at the screen. Most of what was there
was encoded gibberish, but when he pointed it out they could see the bits and
pieces. "It’s mostly medical and psychological reports, I think, but I finally
saw names." His finger indicated Fujimiya, Hidaka and Kudoh in different places
across the screen. The only reference he could find to himself was a Takatori. "Why
is this about us?"

Ken looked at
Aya. "Who were the targets last night?"

Aya shook his
head, red hair brushing the shoulders of the robe. "No target. It was a normal
office building. An assessor’s office."

"A cover," Yohji
declared, eyes still on the laptop. "Is there any information about our
location?"

"No," Omi
confirmed. "Well, not that I see. But there’s a lot that I haven’t decoded. So
far there’s nothing to even indicate that we’re still alive. Just a lot of
data." He shook his head. "What does it mean?"

Yohji’s head
snapped up and he met Aya’s gaze. Ken watched them as they seemed to share a
thought.

Aya finally nodded.
"We need to get out of here."

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