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Drunken Omi	By : yume1122 Category: Weiß Kreuz > General Views: 1053 -:- 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
- 1-Drunken Omi
- 1
I’m
just re-posting this to fix the format errors which were driving me nuts. ^_^

As
stated in the summary, this is a first draft. I HAVE notes from my beta
readers, I’m just tired of sitting on them & being lazy & not posting. So
here’s some hopefully funny, angsty, slighty waffy goodies. ^_^

Omi
groaned and pulled his heavy, throbbing head off his keyboard. He could feel
every nerve ending in his body acutely; and they were all screaming at him to
just die. Such a concerted effort and so many little voices in his head were
overwhelming! – Especially since his head was doing quite a bit of complaining
on its own. He felt like he’d been chucked into a meat grinder. And the
evidence of why gleamed in the forms of empty glass bottles strewn about his
bedroom floor. He shuffled and pulled himself from his computer chair to his
bed, not noticing the gay porn site still up on his monitor.

There
was just enough space left in his churning head to think, ‘How does
Yohji-kun do it?’

He
spent the next few dawn hours passively comparing everything he’d ever heard or
seen of drunkenness with the actual experience; while his body tried to decide
whether it was going to reject whatever little might be left of his stomach
content –again. Eventually Omi would pass out again, but for now he just let
his mind wander.

‘I
guess I understand why Crawford takes away Farfie’s knives now.’ One day a
while back, while studying for afternoon cram school together, Nagi had told
him that on all the major holidays Brad would confiscate and lock up all sharp
objects throughout their house before Farfarello could get a drop of liquor in
him. This was especially true on St. Patrick’s Day, New Years, and All Hollows.
Nagi had previously explained St. Patrick’s Day to the ex-Weiss member, but Omi
asked what “All Hollows” was. Nagi had smiled and explained that it was a
western harvest holiday when the ancestors’ spirits were particularly present
in the human world, and children celebrated this by begging for candy.
Farfarello celebrated by getting particularly drunk apparently. After the
events of the previous night, Omi could understand why it might not be a good
idea to let an un-inhibited Farfie play with his normal toys, especially since
the Irishman was a couple sleeves short of a sweater to start with.

Omi
groaned again as he remembered his own behavior. Aya probably wouldn’t speak to
him for a week after what the high-schooler had tried to pull with Yohji in his
drunken moments of loneliness – not to mention what Ken would do to him if he
ever found out. Of course, it could be said that this was all Yohji’s fault to
start with…

*Flashback,
previous night around 9pm*

Ken
stormed through the kitchen and out the side door of the Koneko, slamming it in
his wake. Yohji looked up from his magazine where he was lounging with his feet
propped on the table, eyebrows raised. He’d been waiting for Aya to come home
from visiting his sister at boarding school so they could get up to trouble
together. He wasn’t really surprised by Ken’s outburst. He’d also been waiting
all evening for the inevitable flight of his friend and house-mate. It was just
that time of year when Ken got his panties in a twist over past events that
could never be changed. Yohji sighed and flipped a page in his Playboy.

Several
minutes later a quiet Omi entered and began to make tea – decaf tea. A
quiet Omi was never good, and an Omi making tea was usually worse. But, as
Yohji observed that the Chibi’s beverage of choice tonight did NOT contain
caffeine, he started to get very, very worried.

“Hey,
Omi-kun. You wanna’ play a video game? I just got a new-“

“No
thanks.”

Another
bad sign. Yohji sighed to himself and realized this was probably related to
Ken’s violent exit. Omi was like a mood ring for all of them – especially Ken.
Even before the two younger men had gotten together, one could always guess
Ken’s mood just by the look on Omi’s face. Guessing Omi’s mood was usually a
bit more difficult to decipher. But not at that moment.

Yohji
swung his feet down to the floor and flopped his magazine on the table. “Look,
Chibi. I know Ken’s upset right now, but he’ll blow it off by morning. He
always does, right?”

Omi
stopped stirring his drink, the spoon clattering on the counter. His shoulders
tensed then sagged as he turned to face the older man. The look in his eyes
almost tore Yohji’s gut out. “I just wish he’d talk to me about it. I don’t
even really know what’s wrong…” He looked like he was about to start balling
right there. That was something Yohji would NOT stand for! As protective of
women as the blonde had always been, he found that he was a hundred times more
protective of the teenager he’d met as an assassin. Yohji made an
executive decision right then. Ken may do whatever he wanted irregardless of
how it affected other people. But there would be NO crying tonight for Omi at
least.

“You
know what you need?” Omi just sniffed and bit his lip, shaking his head. “A
good hard drink. –Just to take the edge off for awhile.” He left the table to
grab a bottle from the fridge.

“But
Yohji, Ken-kun says that stuff will kill you!” Omi’s eyes were as big as
saucers. But he still met Yohji back at the table, tea forgotten.

The
blonde snorted. “Maybe eventually, if you drink enough of it. But half a bottle
won’t hurt. In fact it just might make some of the hurt go away. Just for
tonight.” He gently pushed the Chibi into a chair and handed him the now open
bottle of beer.

“But-“

“Just
a little. Ken won’t even know. And when he comes back later, everything will be
fine.” Yohji smiled and plopped back into his own seat.

Omi
looked at the chilled bottle in his hands and absently sniffed again before
glancing back at Yohji and taking an initial swig.

He
almost spit the stuff back out again. “God!” Cough. “Yohj-“ Cough, cough. “How
the hell do you drink this stuff?! It’s nasty!” He was wearing one of the most
comical looks Yohji had ever seen and the older man was trying his very hardest
not to laugh.

“It’s
an ‘acquired taste’, I know.” Omi stared at the bottle with reserve, holding
onto it tightly, as if it were about to jump up and bite him. Yohji did laugh
then and went back to the fridge.

“Okay,
maybe something else then.” He hunted through the back of the fridge for a few
moments, finally finding some sweeter beverages he knew Aya kept hidden there.

“No.
I’ll just drink my tea and go to bed, Yohji-kun. Thanks for trying though.” The
angsty sad face was back and Yohji couldn’t stand it. If all Ken could do was
make Omi cry, then Love Doctor Yohji would have to fix things – platonically,
of course. Both Aya and Ken would kill him if they thought Yohji had gotten the
youngest of them drunk and then messed around with him. He would never do that
anyway! …Well, he’d never mess around with him at least. Only his Ran-kun had
that privilege now. And he wasn’t planning to get Omi that drunk. He’d
just help him bear his sorrows for a while.

“Alright,
Omi-kun. But how ‘bout I join you upstairs. Don’t be unhappy alone. It’s rude.”
He flashed one of the smiles the ladies went crazy for and winked. At least
that got a small smile out of the Chibi.

“Okay.”
Omi got his tea and lead the way upstairs, not seeing Yohji grab the open beer
and the rest of the fruity drinks from the fridge.

Several
hours later, Omi was loudly laughing at a stupid story Yohji was telling about
a past date gone wrong, the empty bottle of his fourth fuzzy navel still in his
hand. “Awwww! Poor Yohji-kun,” Omi crooned. “She didn’t know what she was
missing.”

Yohji
laughed. “Yeah, I like to think of it like that too.” He took another sip of
his third beer. He’d had to go back to the kitchen to get more, so Omi could
have the full selection of fruit drinks all to himself.

“I’m
sure Aya could tell her what she’s missing.” Omi grinned lasciviously and
winked at Yohji. “You guys are so loud sometimes that Ken and I have to
go sleep in his room!” He tried to take another long drag on his empty bottle
and snorted and giggled uncontrollably when he found it empty.

Yohji
barely kept himself from laughing outright. Omi’s current state was a BIG
improvement over the heartbreaking mood from before. Omi reached for another
drink. Just as his hand touched the sweating bottle Yohji decided he should
hold off for a while yet on a fifth drink and grabbed the Chibi’s wrist away.
“No more for a while, ok? Or you’ll regret it in the morning.”

Omi
looked confused for a minute, then grinned a little more maliciously than Yohji
would have liked. “Aww. Did you want to do something else for a while, Yohji-kuuuun?”
Yohji suddenly found himself faced with an evil sex kitten who seemed intent on
crawling right into his lap. If only he could have seen his face at that
moment.

Aya
came home to find the downstairs deserted. He figured that Ken was probably out
somewhere contemplating suicide. It was that time of year, after all. And
that meant Omi was probably curled up on his bed trying to figure out why he
couldn’t help the man he loved. Too bad for both of them he figured. Things
would eventually go back to normal and they’d both be annoyingly happy and
bouncy all the time. Best to use the temporary peace and quiet he’d been given
to make his own boyfriend happy and bouncy. Aya smirked and headed for the
stairs to find Yohji.

The
blonde wasn’t in his room and wasn’t in the bathroom preening; he wasn’t even
down in the old mission room playing video games. Aya’s brows knit themselves
into a braid of annoyed confusion. He wanted to get off. Where was his pretty
boy toy when he needed him? The seven was in the garage, so he hadn’t gone out…

That’s
when he heard it. Muffled voices and movement in the room next to Yohji’s. ‘He’s
comforting Omi.’ Aya almost smiled at that –almost. The habit of being
immovably grumpy for so many years was hard to break. He went to find the
others.

Some
part of Yohji realized the door to Omi’s room was opening. That same part of
him thought, ‘Oh shit.’ But the rest of him was too busy trying to hold
Omi off of him. The Chibi had managed to get several buttons of his shirt
undone and maneuver himself so he was straddling the blonde’s lap. The
remainder of Yohji’s beer had been knocked over and spilled on the carpet. Now
Omi was trying to free his wrists from Yohji’s grasp, while trying to
alternately whisper into and nibble Yohji’s ear. Yohji’s body was telling the
older man to let him. But his mind was screaming, ‘No!’

“Omi!”
His next word was supposed to be “stop.”

“Omi?”
Oh double shit. Yohji blinked as Omi stopped trying to hump his lap. That was
Aya’s voice. He turned, face a mask of panic, to see a sparking pair of eyes
that matched the bright red shade of the hair framing them. One of those eyes was
twitching. Uh-oh.

“Aya!
It’s not-“

Omi
chose that moment to fall into him and yell, “Oops! Caught!” He then started
giggling uncontrollably and fell off Yohji altogether. A snort or two could be
heard through the hysterical laughter. Aya’s eye just twitched harder.

“Is
he drunk?” the redhead asked quietly. Yohji felt pinned to the floor by that
accusatory gaze.

“Um…
A little?” His voice was squeaked. That would NOT do. Yohji cleared his throat
and re-directed a haughty gaze just beyond his lover’s head. There was no way
he could meet those eyes and not feel like hiding. “He was very upset about Ken
storming out, so I decided to distract him.” The red eye twitched again
–violently. ‘Oops. Wrong thing to say…’ “I mean! –Aya!” He tried to
spring up toward the other man to explain, but something pulled him back onto
the floor with an “Oomph!”

The
redhead slammed the door so hard in Yohji’s face, several framed posters fell
off Omi’s walls. Yohji looked down to find out what he was caught on only to
see a childishly grinning and giggling Omi firmly attached to his pant leg.
This was NOT how things were supposed to turn out tonight. Yohji sighed and
started to pry Omi off so he could go straighten things out with his boyfriend
and hopefully engage in a little make-up sex.

After
Yohji unceremoniously left, cursing under his breath, Omi just sat for a while
wondering why everyone was such a stick-in-the-mud tonight. That is, until he
espied the remaining two mixed drinks and three beers. He took these to his
computer to find something else to amuse himself with until Ken came home to do
it for him.

*End
Flashback*

Ken
returned to the apartments behind the Koneko around 11am, very
worn out, and wanting nothing but to snuggle up with Omi and sleep off his
residual melancholy.

It
had been a hard night, but this time every year was hard for him. It was
the weekend of the World Cup – that alone would normally have Ken in a bad
mood. However, on top of it this year was the anniversary of Kase’s death. Ken
wasn’t sure which was worse: finding out Kase had ruined his life on purpose,
or killing him for it. And no matter what the others may have thought, that was
why he’d killed his old friend in the end – not because of any mission.

As
much as he’d tried to take his life back after Weiss had broken up, by coaching
in the kids’ league and playing in street matches, Ken still had regrets. He
could have been playing in that World Cup match. He could have done great
things – things that didn’t involve watching the life light fade from a
target’s eyes. Ken knew he shouldn’t think like this, and he ALWAYS made sure
these thoughts didn’t show around his boyfriend. Omi had had his own
difficulties in life, but he still never seemed to understand. The happy face
was always on with the optimistic Chibi, and the last thing Ken wanted
to do was show weakness or cynicism in front his lover. So every year when the
respective dates of the World Cup and Kase’s death came around, Ken would
disappear until he had himself under control for Omi.

This
year he just couldn’t find that control within himslef. There wasn’t an
establishment in Tokyo that didn’t have the Game on for their patrons. And he
kept seeing Kase’s lying, begging face as he tried to save himself one more
time. Eventually, after wandering streets he wouldn’t remember, Ken had found
himself on a park bench wishing he drank. He had never liked alcohol and no
matter how much pain he was in, he refused to drown it in toxic fumes. Yohji
was constantly hearing his barbed comments on the bad example he set for his
younger house-mates. But at that moment Ken truly wished he could bring himself
to just get pissed. He had sighed and accepted that he’d never do it. Besides,
Omi would probably kill him.

After
a couple hours of sitting on the bench, lost in morose brooding, he’d finally
gone back to his bike and sped down country back roads until dawn, letting the
physical exertion of controlling the bike sweat the demons out of him.

So
by the time he got back around mid-day, Ken figured he must look a fright. His
reflection in the large windows of the flower shop proved him right. The dark
circles under his eyes were like black holes and the rest of him simply looked
limp and dead. ‘Omi’s going to be so upset,’ he thought and tried to
gather together what little strength he had left to reassure the Chibi that he
would be fine and convince him a little cuddling would help to achieve that
end.

He
entered the Koneko through the side door and dragged himself through to the
kitchen. Yohji was sitting at the table in the exact same position he had been
in when Ken left the night before – only this time he was reading the
newspaper.

“Don’t
you ever move?” Yohji jumped and just about fell out of his chair at the sound
of Ken’s voice. Apparently he hadn’t heard Hidaka come in. Ken sighed and
headed for the stairs. “Where’s Omi?” he turned on the first step to wait for
the answer. Maybe his eyes were just that tired, but Yohji looked paler than normal.

Kudoh
swallowed and answered, “He’s probably still sleeping. I wouldn’t bother him.”
He immediately stuck his head back in the paper.

“Why?
Oooh.” Ken groaned. “Is he that angry at me for leaving last night?” Ken left
off there, not knowing how much his lover might have told anyone about the
argument they’d had before he left.

Yohji
made a few non-committal noises before mumbling, “No. Morelikehe’sfightingahangoverthesizeofChina.”

“WHAT?!”
Suddenly Ken was wide awake. He sped up the stairs before Yohji could do more
than wince, fully intent on killing his boyfriend, hangover or no.

Yohji
just continued to cringe and slouched further into his seat. Aya had deigned to
punish him with incredible angry sex, but the redhead still wasn’t talking to
him. And on top of it, now he was sore down there.

When
Ken reached Omi’s door he was immediately floored by the horrendously strong
smell of beer and vomit emanating from the room, as well as the incredible
disaster that was the room itself. Empty bottles seemed to be growing out of
every surface like plants. Things had fallen off the walls and were scattered
across the floor. The computer desk was a mess, and was that – a Naked Man
posing and winking on the screen?! And in the corner, the crowning glory – Omi
was sprawled across his made-up bed (the only neat thing in the room), still in
his clothes from the previous night.

“OMI!”
The Chibi groaned and rolled over with what seemed to be some difficulty. Ken
was so angry he didn’t care how much discomfort Omi was in! He stalked over to
the bed and shook the seventeen-year-old awake. At first Omi just looked pained
and confused. Then his weak gaze focused on Ken above him and he groaned
louder.

“Nooo.
Ken-kun,” he mumbled piteously.

“What
the hell… Why did you... How… What… WHY?!” was all that Ken could get out.

“I’m
so sorry, Ken.” Omi was decidedly looking anywhere but at Ken, well squinting
more like, but still. “I was so drunk. I didn’t know what I was doing. And you
weren’t here – and Yohji-kun was, and—“

“Wait.
What?” Ken blinked. “What are you talking about?”

It
was Omi’s turn to blink blearily. “Um… what are you talking about?”

“Omi!
You got DRUNK! Why?”

“Well,
I was upset.” The Chibi was on the verge of tears now, which was not helping
his head at all and certainly didn’t help his thought process. He just wanted
Ken to not be angry anymore. “And Yohji said it would just dull the pain a
little, but then I had more, and—“

“What?”
Ken felt like a broken record. “Yohji said what?!” His wide eyes quickly danced
over everything and suddenly all the pieces fit. Yohji could never stand an
upset Omi. They all knew that. Kudoh had gone too far this time.

Ken
was out the door before Omi could call after him. Downstairs, Yohji suddenly
found himself held tightly by the collar with a very irate Hidaka in his
face.

“You
got him drunk!” Ken didn’t need to yell; there was plenty of venom in that
voice as it was.

“No!
I just gave him a few sips! He—“ Ken shook the blonde so hard his white, button-down
shirt could be heard straining under the ripping pressure.

“You
gave him alcohol.” Yohji could’ve sworn these would be his last moments alive.
But at that moment, Aya sauntered in wearing a bathrobe and toweling off his
wet hair. Ken immediately re-focused on the redhead, grip not loosening on his
captive at all. “Did you know about this?” he asked quietly. Yohji almost
pissed himself in the anxiety of not knowing which way Aya would turn. The
swordsman’s blank eyes considered the scene a moment before replying.

“Not
until it was too late.” He gave Yohji a scathing glare. “Go ahead. Tear him
apart. I already did my share.” With that he poured a mug of coffee and went
back upstairs.

Yohji
found himself with Ken’s full ire turned on him once again. He gulped and
accepted that this was NOT going to be a good day.

About
an hour later, Yohji sat on the kitchen floor nursing his new bruises and aches
and thanking the Gods that Hidaka no longer owned his deadly claws – AND that
he didn’t seem to know about anything except the drinking itself. Ken returned
to Omi’s room with a mixture of egg yolks, whisky, and various spices for his
wronged boyfriend, feeling that he was at least a little responsible for the
night’s events. His fatigue was returning as the anger-induced adrenaline rush
wore off. He found Omi trying to clean up his room, and not making much
progress due to his continued sensitivities. Ken noticed the porn was gone from
the computer screen though. He made Omi sit on the bed and choke down the
hangover remedy before helping the Chibi strip and handing him some pajama
pants. He then finished cleansing the room of glass bottles. He found the waste
basket full of old puke and left it in the bathroom to deal with later.
However, the smell of beer remained – he suspected it was coming from a spot on
the carpet where he had found one of the bottles. Oh well. They’d just use lots
of carpet cleaner and cover it with a throw rug he figured.

After
what seemed like another hour he stripped down himself and crawled into the bed
to snuggle against Omi’s back, pulling the younger man to him. He could still
sense some lingering guilt in the set of his lover’s shoulders and sighed,
rolling Omi onto his back to face him.

“I’m
sorry I ran out on you like that last night.” Omi remained silent. Ken sighed
again. “You know I get upset around World Cup time. I… I don’t like you to see
me down like that.”

“I
was trying to cheer you up! If you won’t talk to me about it, all I can do is try
to distract you!”

“Not
like that though!” Ken couldn’t help it. As worn out as he was, he started
laughing. Started, and couldn’t stop. He flopped down on the mattress next to
Omi and smiled. “I know you were trying to help. I just wasn’t in the mood for
sex.” He smiled broader. “I might be now though.”

Omi
groaned and fought back the temptation to roll over and ignore Ken. Aside from
the intense guilt that still wracked him over what he’d tried to do with Yohji,
his body was in NO mood to prove his fidelity to Ken. But Ken just laughed,
earning a slight glare, and snuggled against the smaller man’s shoulder.

“You
know, a little relaxing physical activity is an excellent cure for hangovers.”
The soccer player’s eyes shone with mischief, as his hand gently drifted toward
a spot which would never fail him on a sensitive thigh.

Omi
snorted derisively, and then gasped as Ken’s fingers brushed their target. He
half-purred, half-growled. “Fine. But you’ll have to convince me.”

“Good,”
was the reply, before his lover set about slowly and lovingly doing just that.

Review
Please!!! ^_^

Omi
will love you forever if u do!

Many
loves & thanks got to Sianne for her wonderful review!! & now, you’ve
got me thinking about a sequel…..or at least another chapter. ::half-glare::
maybe I’ll make this the first chapter in the kidnapping story…(now I’m just
battling my hate for OCs).
- 1
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Drunken Omi