BY : MikoNoHoshi
Category: Weiß Kreuz > Yaoi - Male/Male
Dragon prints: 4275
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...

Notes: I went back to reread some of the early parts of this, and I noticed that my chapters have started to get progressively longer…and that’s not the way this is supposed to work (aka short chapters/quick updates) so I’ll try hard to get them back down to size to keep up with the pace.

On a Kitty Note: My poor little rescued Aya-kitty is making good progress. She still hides from everyone else, but tonight she came out and wanted me to pet her. And, she’s getting her voice back; the first four days she didn’t make a sound, but now she whines to get out of her cage. Yohji-kitty is, despite her hard life, basically an attention whore who won’t stay off the furniture. There’s a certain entertainment value to going around the house saying things like, “Yohji, stop eating all of Aya’s food!” and “Yohji, get out of my bed!”

Sorry so many notes this chapter, more content with the next one, promise!

Chapter Thirty-Three: Secure Me

Yohji stared at the boy kneeling by his feet, his head bent low enough that the blonde could see the thick black collar over the edge of the blue shirt. He felt a surge of pride at the crisp appearance, but it fell away as an awkward silence stretched out in the room. They both knew he was about to remove Aya from the concealing sanctuary of the house, and Yohji found himself dealing with a nervous anticipation that made a beer rather high on his list of things to do, early hour notwithstanding.

He wondered if Aya’s new image could withstand the scrutiny of others. Personally, he thought he had done a damn good job, but Yohji wasn’t going to argue (even with himself) that he was an impartial judge of the result of a huge effort on his part.

Their trip to the mall had been mostly a success, but it had also occurred under considerably less pressure, like a one night stand. It was a random even populated by disinterested strangers, and a breakdown or scene would be observed with detachment and forgotten within minutes. There Yohji had introduced Aya only to the faceless public, but now he hoped to thrust the boy into another portion of his own life. It was a girlfriend-meets-the-family kind of feeling, and not something Yohji was really into.

Dwelling on it made him upgrade his anticipated beer to a shot of jack.

If all went according to plan, or if they at least managed to skirt the worst of disasters, Aya would become a part of Weiss and the flower shop would be relegated to the position of necessary cover. However, at the moment, Yohji hoped to make it a productive place of reeducation. Aya needed to interact with people, true enough, but he also needed something to do. Yohji had reasoned, in the many early morning hours when Aya stirred with nightmares, that if the other could do some kind of work, accomplish a task on his own, receive something as simple as a paycheck, and see that what he was supposed to be doing wasn’t serving Yohji, then he might settle in to that position.

It sounded so easy in his head.

Of course, there was the sister to deal with.

And the collar.

And Aya’s general inability to interact with people.

Two steps forwards and ten back, but wasn’t that the story of his life?

While Yohji was admittedly fumbling through some major decisions, Aya was more than confused at the moment; Yohji could sense it in his movements, occasionally seeing it in his eyes along with more perilous reactions. Tossing him out into the shop wasn’t going to be a cure-all. He doubted that Aya would accept that he was going to be an independent employee, so it had to, initially, be construed as an extension of his servitude unless Yohji wanted to run the risk of him rejecting the entire project on the basis of his old master’s rules.

God, he wanted to kill that bastard. He would give up liquor for a month to do that.

So, he would play along. For now.

“You’re gonna work in the shop,” he began, anxious of the rest. “You’ll have something to do, then, and . . . you’ll probably like it.”

That hadn’t been what he’d rehearsed awkwardly in front of the bathroom mirror where he told an imaginary Aya that it was a cover for his slavery; the falsity of keeping Aya’s status a secret had choked in his throat. Yohji just couldn’t make peace with the boy thinking that the older man thought of him as a slave. Weighing necessity against discomfort, his and Aya’s, Yohji pressed on, silently promising painful revenge against anyone and everyone who had put him in the situation.

“Outside, in the shop and other places, you can’t act like this, Aya,” he sat a little wearily on the bed, picking a thread on the comforter as Aya sat submissively next to his feet. “I know it’s what you’re used to, but . . . well, I can’t very well drag you around on a leash.”

Damn, okay, that was a stupid ass thing to say. He looked up from the floor to check, but Aya’s hadn’t reacted.

“I mean, ah, wait, turn around.”

He did, shifting gracefully so he knelt even closer in front of Yohji, staring at the carpet between the blonde’s socked feet.

“Aya, I want you to be happy. I want…look at me. Okay. I want to give you some rules to make this easier.”

Aya stared not at his face, but at the watch on his left wrist. He looked so different after Yohji’s attentions, so much more . . . human. Everything but the collar and the eyes which had gone suddenly distant.


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