BY : MikoNoHoshi
Category: Weiß Kreuz > Yaoi - Male/Male
Dragon prints: 4283
Disclaimer: I get no money from writing these fics, nor I don't own Weiss. In fact, I'm not even allowed to touch the pretty least not in any of their special places...

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! You guys are the best!

Notes: Hm, I’ve been leaving Ken out, I know; I’m afraid it’s a habit, but I’ll try to work him back in. I actually want him not to be a bad guy, though Aya may take some time to warm up to him. Oh, I’m not sure whether this fic is headed in a Ken/Omi direction or not; I’m just not good at writing the pairing. I blame Ken.

If I was an editor, this chapter would probably be cut, but since I’m a self-indulgent fic writer instead, it stays (at least for now). I think it might need a little WAFF warning, though; back to the seriousness next time, promise!

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Ward Me

Omi sat at the kitchen table, his homework spread out on top of it and Ken leaning over his shoulder to appreciate his sorrow at having yet another exam to study for.

“Just hope we don’t have a mission!”

Omi’s head popped up, looking both ways quickly, then doing an under-the-table check for good measure. He sighed with relief.

“Don’t tempt fate, Ken-kun!”

“Afraid Manx is listening?”

“Yes! She can sense homework,” he said pseudo-seriously.

“And soccer games.”

They shared a dark nod just before the door opened.

There was a collective exhalation as Yohji maneuvered through the door, the task made difficult by the various shopping bag handles across his arms and a number of boxes piled in his hands; Omi doubted he could see properly over them. What on earth had the man managed to buy? Aya needed sensible outfits, not whatever came in the bag marked ‘Hottyz.’ Omi hoped the older man had shown some restraint.

When the blonde managed to clear the doorway, Aya followed, carrying a much more modest collection of items. He was looking intently at the ground, and his shoulders betrayed how tired he was. Omi was about to lecture Yohji on taking it easier with him when the blonde spoke.

“Honey, I’m home,” Yohji greeted, “and I brought you a present . . . it’s here somewhere . . . wait,” he shifted a smaller, white box from under the top two, just managing it to pass it to Omi’s reaching hands before he dropped it.

“Thanks, chibi. I knew I married you for a reason.”

“Yohji-kun,” he pouted, not really offended, especially not in the wake of a present.

“Be nice and share with Kenken before he gets jealous,” he gestured with his head to Ken while trying to toe off his shoes. Aya was backed towards the wall behind Yohji doing the same, though Omi thought much more gracefully; of course, he wasn’t carrying such an obscene amount of things.

But he had a present to open! Scooting over his heavy Trig II book, he set down the white box. Though Yohji frequently brought home little gifts, Omi had yet to get any better at guessing what they would be. It could be anything from a pair of neon yellow knee socks to the Weapon Master Four game—and those were actual examples. Omi still had the socks.

Carefully, he lifted off the lid.

“Chocolates!” He clasped his hands together for a second, then made quick work of the inner box to reveal the array of expensive candies.

“Sweet,” Ken commented, and Omi rolled his eyes at the pun, not sure if it was intentional.

Then Ken reached, only to have his hand slapped.

“Hey! Yohji said share!”

“Don’t be greedy! Wait a minute,” he said, reaching for the little chart that told what chocolate rested where.

Ken reached again, and Omi slapped his hand without looking.

“That one’s mine.”

“How about—”


He pointed again.


“Which one’s mine?”

“That one.” He pointed to a sad, lumpy chocolate in the corner.

“But I don’t want the one with nuts!” he whined, trying to look pitiful.

Omi relented, as he knew he would, lifting a maple cream (Ken’s second favorite next to caramel) and putting it into the outstretched hand. Turning to Yohji, he looked hard at the box for a second, then plucked out the cherry cordial and held it out.

Yohji glanced at his full hands and opened his mouth. Omi stood on his toes popped the chocolate in.

“Aya-kun?” he asked. The boy was studying his socked feet intensely. “Hmm,” Omi considered, with a brief confirming look to Yohji, “one won’t hurt, will it Yohji-kun?”

It wouldn’t be fair to leave Aya out like that.

“Nah. Which ones do you like Aya?”

Aya looked to Yohji, slightly confused, Omi thought. Well, there was no point stressing him out over something so small.

“Here, Aya-kun, let me pick for you,” he pretended to concentrate much harder than necessary. “Ah! I got it!”

His fingers swept over the box, stopping just left of center and plucking up an oblong piece of milk chocolate. Aya was trying to shift his boxes out of one hand, but Omi just stepped close and smiled.

“Ahh,” he demonstrated, opening his mouth. For a second, he thought Aya wouldn’t do it, that he had crossed some line. Then Aya slowly imitated his action, sans sound effect, and Omi slipped the chocolate inside.

“Good, right?”

Aya nodded once while he chewed slowly, and Omi giggled; Yohji rolled his eyes.

“Come on, Aya. Let’s go upstairs; he’ll be hyper all night.”

Omi thought he was jealous. He also thought that Aya liked strawberry cream candy.

He would have to remember that.

Then he turned around to find Ken hovering over his abandoned second tray of chocolate, mouth suspiciously full.

“Ken-kun, what’s in your mouth?”

“Noffming,” he tried around the chocolate.

“That’s my caramel!”


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