The Hits Keep Coming

BY : KD Sarge
Category: Weiß Kreuz > Yaoi - Male/Male
Dragon prints: 3554
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.

“Asuka!” Yohji bolted upright as he always did, groaned and grabbed his head even more fervently than usual. Che, chikusho, it hurt! What had he been drinking last–oh, right. Damn.

He wasn’t alone. Yohji gave a more theatrical groan as he moved his fingers a little to see–

Aya was sitting in a chair by his bed, cleaning his sword in the light of one candle on the nightstand.

“What the hell are you doing?”

The redhead gave the cleaning cloth a flick, ran it down the sword again.

“Why the hell are you doing it in my room?”

One fine red eyebrow lifted. “Concussion,” the icy bastard said, as if it should be obvious. As it would have been, if it had been either of the others sitting there. But Aya–

“You don’t do vigils.” Or wound care, except for his own, or any other kind of caring in any way for anyone but himself. Aya was about money. If it didn’t pay, or lead to being paid, Aya didn’t do it.

Until now.

“Hey, if you were sitting right there, you could have woke me up, you know. I don’t have to dream the whole thing, I know how it ends.”

The bastard ignored Yohji, turning his attention back to his sword. Yohji’s thoughts wandered off into what had become familiar paths, watching those strong, skilled fingers stroke the long–

“Where’s Omi?” he blurted, before he got himself skewered. The eyebrow went up again.

“You don’t remember?”

“Exams,” Yohji said, now that he did. “He’s staying over at Hideo-kun’s, to study for exams.”

“Ken?”

“Bike trip. With a girl.” Amazing as it was, Kenken had landed a girl. A not half-bad girl, too, if she’d just try a little–

“Hn.” The conversation died again. Yohji wondered if he could drag himself out of bed to go get–

Wait a minute. He was in bed. Not sprawled across it, in it, with his boots off and–holy shit, and his pants, and his shirt! Aya had stripped him to his underwear, and tucked him under the blankets too?

As soon as he was up to dodging murder attempts, he was going to get a lot of mileage out of this. But for now, that sword was way too close and way too pointy.

Compensating for something, Aya-kun?

“Medicine on the nightstand,” the redhead said, not glancing up.

“What are you, the Tin Man?” Yohji asked, and wished he hadn’t. “Because, you know, it’s really nice that you’re–you know–being nice and having a heart and all and–“

Aya twirled the sword, sliding it into its saya in a move straight out of a movie. He walked to the door.

“Sleep, Kudou.”

Che. Yohji took a couple pills and drank some water, blew out the candle and lay back and hoped he’d be less stupid in the morning.

Damn but his head hurt.




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