by Maya Tawi and Viridian5
"Let go of me," Aya said as they stood on the sidewalk outside the bar. Even when obstinate, he looked pretty, but part of that might have been that Yohji had talked him into going out as a woman. Guilt paid off.
"Youíre heartless," Yohji said, but he forced himself to stop clinging to Ayaís arm.
Aya didnít look concerned. "What of it?"
"This was such a bad idea."
"It was your idea."
"What? I thought it was yours!"
They stared at each other. After a moment Aya said, "Well, weíre here now. We may as well go in."
"It couldnít be my idea."
"It couldnít be mine. I was only here once, and not under the best conditions."
"Terrible, horrible, very sexually frustrating things have happened to me every time Iíve set foot in here lately. Swear to me Iím getting some tonight, or Iím taking my marbles and going home."
Aya, of course, couldnít just do that. "You were here with Schuldig last time--"
"Anyway, youíre not the one who manhandled you in public."
"No, Iím not. I wouldnít have to leave the trailer for that. I could just sit outside on the grass...."
"Then why are we here?"
"Because this place pulls the best beer in Tokyo, and Iím damned if Iím gonna be chased out of my favorite bar by a few bad experiences."
"So it was your idea, then." Aya had a sudden odd look on his face. "And are you saying that me getting smashed and professing my desperate need for your body was a bad experience?"
Aya looked at him from under his lashes. "No, really. Iím curious."
Damn it, could he be more of a woman? Soon heíd be asking Yohji if his mission wear made his ass look big. At least Yohji wouldnít have to lie. He evaluated his options and decided to go with the truth in this case as well, which was probably a new record for him.
He said bluntly, "Not being able to take you up on your offer was a bad experience."
Ayaís lip twitched. Yohji repressed the burning desire to lick it. "I would be flattered, but Iím sure you say that to every good pair of breasts."
"Not just any. Yours are special."
Luckily Aya seemed amused by that, and therefore unlikely to kick him in the balls for it.
Yohji held out his arm and said gallantly, "Shall we?"
Aya gave him an irritated look, but Yohji was starting to learn how to read those looks, and there was definitely affection beneath the irritation. He smiled.
Aya rested her-- his-- hand on Yohjiís arm, and that helped too.
Yohji took a deep breath, said, "Here goes," and pushed the door open. They stepped into Mikaeís pub.
She was behind the bar, as Yohji knew she would be. He wondered if she had always been there. She looked up as they entered and said, without enthusiasm, "You guys."
Yohji felt his face break into a grin. "Mik! Is that any way to talk to an old friend?"
"When I see one Iíll let you know. And donít call me that."
Aya looked dubious. Yohji said, "Donít worry, sheís always like this."
Mikae cocked an eyebrow. "I take it you two resolved your, ahem, differences?"
Now Aya looked suspicious. "Yohji...."
"Letís get a booth," Yohji said hurriedly.
"Oh, no, this is fascinating. What did you tell her?"
Mikae was smirking. Yohji could see the possibility of post-date sex getting smaller and smaller. "Youíre an evil, evil woman," he moaned. "Both of you."
Mikae said, "You know, I still donít see it."
"See what?" Aya demanded.
"Booth. Now." Yohji marched towards one of the corner booths, dragging Aya behind him and cursing sadistic bartenders, not to mention his own bloody inclination towards situational symmetry, under his breath.
"Look, I had to talk to someone, all right? And I couldnít very well tell her the truth--"
"What. Did you. Tell her?"
Yohji tried to disappear into the vinyl booth. When that didnít work, he squeaked, "Itoldheryouwereatransvestitedonítkillme!"
Aya blinked. "...Oh."
Then a truly disturbing smile crossed his face-- hell, it was almost a grin, which was disturbing in itself-- and then Aya closed his eyes and concentrated for a moment. He opened his eyes again, looking inordinately pleased with himself.
Yohji breathed, "What did you do?"
Aya looked serene. "Iím a transvestite."
"Eep." Yohji felt himself pale. Had he really just squeaked like that? And Aya was just sitting there across from him, girl-flavor Aya, with a-- a--
He shifted in his seat, trying to adjust himself, and wondered when exactly he had turned into such a sick fuck.
Aya said primly, "Iím ready to order."
Mikae appeared at their table like an evil genie summoned from her bottle. At Yohjiís stare-- heíd never seen her work the tables as well as the bar-- she chirped, "Slow night."
Yohji closed his eyes and let his head fall to the table with a thunk. Of course Mikae was waiting on them. Why not?
He heard her say, "No table-dancing tonight, okay, Red?" and looked up hurriedly to catch Ayaís reaction. Aya didnít disappoint; his eyes went wide, his face went red, and his mouth opened and closed. After a moment he said faintly, "Just fruitmilk, please."
Yohji contemplated asking Mikae to spike Ayaís drink, then dismissed the thought. After all, as he knew that from experience, Aya didnít need alcohol to let loose. Especially when she was sitting there with a... a....
"Beer, please," he squeaked, and fled to the lavatory.
He heard Aya behind him, reassuring Mikae that everything was fine and, no, she didnít need to call the police, and then the near-silent footfalls approaching the-- mercifully empty-- washroom. As soon as Aya stepped inside, Yohji shoved him back against the door and proceeded to kiss and stroke him into a desperate, quivering mass of need. Of course, the problem with that was that he ended up reducing himself to about the same state.
When he pulled away, gasping for air, Aya looked flustered but amused. "A slightly different reaction from the first time."
"Youíre an acquired taste," Yohji said breathlessly, and ground their hips together for emphasis. Aya inhaled sharply, and Yohji did too as he felt the oh so delightfully wrong hardness beneath Ayaís tight pants.
Aya gasped, "Clothed again?" and Yohji murmured, "Nothing wrong with that."
As he kissed and sucked a path along Ayaís neck, he had his hands exploring the new dimensions of Ayaís body-- hard here, soft here, soft here, hard here-- but Aya put a hand on his shoulder and murmured, "Yohji, no-- wait--"
Yohji stilled himself with some effort. "What? What is it?"
Aya said, "I have a better idea."
Aya let his hands slide under Yohjiís coat and drop meaningfully to his ass. Yohji stiffened and took a nervous step back. "Listen, Aya, I donít--"
Aya stepped forward. "You made me play a prostitute," he said dangerously.
"You enjoyed it!"
"And so will you."
"I donít have any--"
"I do," Aya said, patting his hip pocket. He smiled menacingly. "I have several."
"You bastard," Yohji said admiringly. "You were planning this."
"Something like it, yes, and you did say you were expecting post-date sex."
How could he explain to Aya that in their bizarre little relationship, heíd always thought of himself as the seme? After all, heíd always been the one to make the first move, heíd generally taken the lead, and really, he just didnít feel like an uke. More to the point, how could he convey that information without getting himself killed?
The look in Ayaís eyes suggested that he might not survive making such a declaration. The look in Ayaís eyes made him suddenly not want to.
The look in Ayaís eyes was doing very dangerous things to his mental processes.
Fucked like a woman, Schuldig had said. Well, Yohji would show him fucked. Yohji took a deep breath, mustered every reserve of courage and bullshit bravado that he could, and said, "Okay."
Ayaís brilliant, beautiful smile went a long way towards loosening the knot in his stomach.
Aya pulled him into a stall and threw the latch, and before he knew what was happening Yohji found himself shoved back against the door, being kissed and groped and humped until he couldnít think straight. He moaned into Ayaís mouth, running his hands through her soft, soft hair, and felt her purring against him. Her cock thrust rhythmically against his own, its hardness unabated. She pushed his coat off his shoulders and slid it down his arms and let it drop to the floor, kicking it away. He couldnít even protest.
Then strong, callused hands were moving him, turning him to face the door, and Yohji put his own hands out to brace himself. They trembled against the cool, smooth stall door. Feeling horribly exposed, he pressed them flat to still them and closed his eyes.
Ayaís hands traced teasing paths down his chest, slim, powerful hands, girl-Aya hands, circling down to his bare midriff and then sliding up his shirt, then trailing back down below his waist to skim over his still-covered cock. Yohji cried out and tried to thrust into Ayaís hands, but they were bad hands, they were very evil hands, they were gone....
They were settling on his waistband, undoing the button of his leather pants. Yohji felt his stomach twist in sudden fear, and trying to cover, trying to be flippant, he said, "You ever done this before?"
"I took Teru like this from behind in a restaurantís womenís room," and it had been hot, "but I donít think thatís what youíre talking about, so I have to say no."
"Then weíre matched. Except for the bit about Teru."
Hadnít ever? "Aya!"
Those hands reached into the front of his open pants and stroked. "Relax," Aya purred, her/his voice soft and dark, and those hands and that voice made it easy. Or, rather, hard. "People with far less intelligence than we have do this kind of thing all the time without hurting themselves."
"Somehow thatís not reassuring."
"Yohji-kun, it feels so good to get fucked by you. I canít tell you. I have to show you."
Fuck, Aya knew how to talk to him, but he couldnít give it up too easily. "Oh yeah, you just want to share the magic of the moment with me out of the goodness of your heart."
Aya thrust against Yohjiís ass, and his shirt was so thin that he could feel her breasts press into his back in the process, making Yohji groan, "Sometime we have to do this when weíre both naked." Heíd have to get more clothes off the both of them soon but found it hard to think straight at the moment. As callused fingers danced over his cock and Ayaís breasts and cock rocked against him, he said, "You know, youíre not really a transvestite. Youíre like a transsexual or a hermaphrodite or something."
"Youíre thinking about this now?" Aya peeled the leather down over his hips, and Yohji shivered as cool air blew over his sweat-slicked skin.
After a moment, he inquired sweetly, "Would you like a manual?"
"Very funny." Ayaís hands settled on his ass. One slick finger started drifting lower, lower....
He actually did sound sorry. Yohji sighed. "Just... take it easy, yeah?"
"Ah," Aya said. Now he sounded amused. "Yes, it is your first time. I should be gentle."
Yohji squirmed. "Thatís not exactly what I meant." It made him sound so... inexperienced.
Ayaís lips brushed his ear, and he shivered again. "Iím the only one to ever do this, arenít I?"
"Well, yes," Yohji said testily. "What did you think Ďfirst timeí meant?"
"Youíve been with half of Tokyo, yet Iím treading on virgin territory. I feel like I should be planting a flag."
"Enough with the virgin talk, okay? And youíre also the only one who knows what I do for a living, if you need to feel more special or something."
"I feel very special." Aya slid down his back to crouch behind him and started to hotly mouth the small of his back, her chin rubbing against his bare ass. Yohji writhed, then writhed even more as she slid her finger up inside him more smoothly this time, the weird but almost pleasant burn and pressure finally giving way to sparks of pleasure. "So tight," Aya sighed as he pulled Yohjiís pants and underwear down to his ankles.
"Shut up," Yohji panted, his voice rising on the word Ďupí as he felt himself being stretched more. Another finger? Aya worked him slowly and thoroughly, exquisitely, bringing him to such a fever pitch that he was humping the door, just about painting it he was so ready. "Aya, Aya...."
"Take off your shirt, Yohji-kun," Aya said huskily.
"Hunh?" He didnít have too many working brain cells left.
"Take off your shirt."
Yohji didnít know if he could remain standing if he stopped leaning on the door, but he gave it a shot. Standing up straight made the fingers inside him shift angle, which made him whimper. He pulled his shirt off over his head and resumed his position. At which point the fingers pulled out of him.
"Aya!" He ached and felt so horribly open.
"Shh. And donít look back."
Which of course made Yohji desperately want to look back, especially as he heard the creak of moving leather, the soft jingle of buckles, a tiny sound of clasps being undone, and the soft snap of a condom going on. He felt Aya like heat against him. The heat came closer, closer.... Her breasts and hard nipples, all bare, brushed against his back as Aya carefully guided his cock up and in. Yohji groaned at the sensations, perversity, and twinging pain of entry.
"Yohji," Aya sounded worried, "am I--"
Wanting to get on to where it got good, Yohji pushed down hard, gasping almost in time with Aya. It burned, it hurt, it felt so weird... but then Aya shifted and the sparks flew again. "Yeah, oh yeah," Yohji panted. Aya started to rock into him, brushing that sweet spot most of the time. Her breasts pressed and rubbed harder into his back as she reached for his cock, but he stopped her hands from moving along it. "No, I have plans for that later. Grip it tight, though, and fuck me harder."
Aya thrust harder and harder as he goaded her on with "Címon, címon, címon," "Oh yeah," and "Donít be such a girl about it," the last of which earned him a thrust so hard that it amazed him Aya didnít knock his back teeth out with the tip of her cock, but it was good. The door clanked under the abuse. She grunted, her voice deeper than any womanís heíd ever heard but still not a manís, and he could feel her breasts sweating against his skin. It was so beyond perverse that it was beautiful.
He wanted to come, and the sensations shooting up his ass into his back and through his body made him want to come, but he held on. His cock still had something to do before it could finish. But it was so hard and so good. Looking down at the pale, delicate yet callused hands clasped tightly around the base of his cock like a ring, he groaned again. "Love you...."
Aya cried out and exploded in two hard, fast thrusts, then sagged against his back, panting, her fingers uncurling from around his cock. He had to move fast before he went off. Putting his hand back, he helped her slide her cock out of him and said, "Aya, take your pants all the way off."
"What?" Aya sounded dazed and breathless.
Aya went still against him, then moved away, returning only briefly to hand him a condom. Yohji didnít dare look, so he concentrated on putting it on with his fumbling, sex-stupid fingers and kicked his pants and underwear off. When he turned around, Aya wore only a pair of black thigh highs below the waist. Thigh highs? Well, shit. Her shirt was that strappy number that opened from the front, while her bra unclasped in front, so she still had them hanging from her sides and her back covered. Her beautiful breasts hung free. Her violet eyes seemed nearly black from how dilated her pupils were, and her hair looked wilder and darker. Fuck, she looked wanton and debauched. As for the cock, it was smaller than what she had as a man and thus more proportional to her frame. Yohji remembered being straight once but didnít miss it right now.
Magnetically drawn forward, he ran his hand down her ass and between her legs. She was so wet for him, so ready. "Yohji," she moaned, her eyes closing as he stroked her.
He picked her up, set her atop his cock, and thrust into her, biting his lip as she wrapped her legs around his waist, clawed at his back, and moaned deeper. They needed to use the wall for support as he finally fucked her, gasping at the way she clenched around him. As he cupped her ass and stroked her clit, he felt her cock start to get hard against him again, and there was a series of events he never would have imagined. It just made him hotter. He knew he wouldnít last long--
The door to the menís room opened. Aya shuddered and bit her lip, and Yohji tried to use the power of his will to make whomever do his business fast and pay no attention to the clothes strewn about under the stalls. At least only one pair of legs showed under the stall door, though what the guy would make of the direction they were facing in or their nakedness he didnít want to know.
From the sounds he heard, it seemed that the guy just wanted to take a piss, which he wouldnít need a stall for. Good. But Yohjiís cock had finally reached a destination it had wanted to get to for months and had no intention of waiting any longer, and it had his hips as accomplices. He couldnít help rocking and thrusting a little. Aya felt so good around him. Breathing hard, heart pounding, eyes rolling back into her head a bit, Aya bit her lip harder and ground down against him. At least he wasnít stupid alone.
As the sink ran, Yohji silently wished the guy to finish washing his hands fast. But the sink kept running. How thorough did he have to be?
Aya shuddered convulsively on the next finger stroke and tiny thrust. There was one orgasm.
Leave already! Yohji wanted to scream. Finally the sink stopped running, and a shuffle of feet and the sound of the door closing signaled their deliverance from torment. But he couldnít quite get it moving into full gear again. Shit, it was like when you had to take a piss but held it way too long, and it took time for your muscles to unclench to start no matter how much pain you were in.
Aya put one hand down to his cock near where it had entered her and stroked hard. Yohji blacked out as he exploded.
Aya making sounds of discomfort brought him back. Shit, heíd pressed Aya into the wall rather hard. As he let go, she slid down him muttering something about not being able to find her knees. As she rested against him, she said huskily, "That was remarkably stupid," but she had a big grin on her face.
Yohji felt so satisfied and smug. "Whatís wrong? Canít stand on your own?"
"You try climaxing several times in two areas in a few minutes and see what you can do afterward."
Two? Aya wasnít hard anymore. Had she-- he gone off both ways at the same time? Sometimes Yohji almost envied him. Sometimes. Almost. Yohji kissed him and tasted blood on his lip.
"We really need to wash up and get dressed," Aya said. "Your friend will have enough to talk about as it is."
"You know, kids, we do have standards of sanitation to maintain," Mikae said as they walked out.
"Shut up, Mik," Yohji replied cheerfully. Right now, nothing could bring him down.
She rolled her eyes. "Your beverages await, lord."
"Ooh, fruitmilk," Aya said, sliding into his seat. "Yummy."
Yummy? Yohji mouthed, incredulous. He shook his head, settling into the booth and lighting a cigarette, and Mikae slid in beside him and propped her chin on her hands. Yohji stared at her, and she smiled brightly back at him. "So. How did you two crazy kids meet?"
"What, weíre pals now? Whatever happened to ĎIf I see one Iíll let you knowí?"
"Oh, thatís just my crusty exterior. Iím a fluffy bunny underneath."
"I shudder to think."
"She wants the gory details," Aya said calmly, sipping at his fruitmilk.
Yohji smirked. "Yeah, I figured."
Mikaeís smile widened. "I wanna know who tops."
Mildly outraged, Yohji ignored her and took a long swallow of beer, only to choke on it when Aya said, "Me."
He slammed the mug down on the table, coughing alcohol out from his lungs. Mikae slapped him halfheartedly on the back. He heard her say, "I figured as much."
"You bastard," he wheezed, once he could talk again.
"I thought we already established that." Aya licked her lips and smiled, and damned if Yohji wasnít hard again.
Perpetual arousal in Ayaís immediate vicinity. Maybe that was his special power.
Then Mikae said, "So whatís up with that gaijin? The one with the orange hair and the scads of cash?"
Yohji would have choked again if heíd had anything in his mouth. Ayaís smile had faded. God, he was going to kill Mikae.
"What about him?" he asked, trying to sound casual.
"I was trying to figure you two out, but I donít know. You didnít seem to like each other very much, but there was definitely something there. And donít give me that look. Iím impervious."
"That does it," Yohji said absently, staring at Aya. "No tip for you." Aya was avoiding his gaze. Damn it, he knew Schuldig had been stalking Yohji as well; why was he acting so weird about it all of a sudden? Almost... hurt?
Mikae, displaying uncharacteristic sensitivity and tact, rose with a muttered excuse and retreated back to the bar. She must have picked up on the mood shift. Yohji kept staring at Aya, trying to gauge his mood, but Aya had completely shut down.
Yohji sighed. He was tired, his ass hurt, and he wasnít even drunk yet. It seemed inconceivable that only a few moments ago he was as euphoric as heíd ever been. "Letís go," he said shortly, standing. Aya didnít argue.
True to his word, he left Mikae the exact amount of the bill-- no more, no less.
The ride home was silent, charged with the kind of sullen tension that Aya was so good at. Yohji reached out once, tentatively, but Aya didnít respond and after a moment he withdrew his hand.
He didnít respond. Heís responsive like you wouldnít believe. Typical Aya, running hot and cold. Anything he did, he did to extremes. There was no such thing as middle ground.
Still, Yohji couldnít quite figure out why the mention of Schuldig had set him off. The question plagued him the whole way home.
Aya barely noticed Yohjiís desperate stares and his half-hearted peace attempts. His mind was spinning, but it kept coming back to one thing.
Schuldig. That was the sticking point, wasnít it? Heíd been naÔve to think he and Yohji could ever have any kind of normal relationship, even aside from what his own freakish abilities could do. Schuldig would always be between them, distracting them, tempting them, and sooner or later one of them would end up dead. Or worse. Aya had no fear for his own life, but he couldnít bear the thought of Yohji getting killed because of his bodyís ridiculous obsession with Schuldig.
Though maybe he wasnít the only one with the obsession....
In his mind, he let me fuck him and begged for more.
The thought bothered him more than he cared to admit.
Aya was Not There as they walked into the trailer too, impossible to talk to, and talking at him was unsatisfying. When he looked at Yohji, he didnít really seem to see him, and that always left Yohji feeling as if he didnít exist. Yohji hadnít seen him go this deeply into his own head for a long time.
Aya came back a little and said, "Yohji...." Yohji waited, but nothing else came out of his mouth. He simply stood there looking a bit lost and very hurt.
"Yeah," Yohji answered.
"I should...." Aya shook his head and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Fujimiya Aya, the great communicator, ladies and gentlemen.
Frustrated and unable to stand being here for a second longer, Yohji went back outside, letting the door slam behind him, not caring whether he woke Ken and Omi up.
Aya stripped off his clothes and changed back to his true form before going into the shower and turning the water on as hot as he could stand it, determinedly not thinking about anything or trying to wash the night off. Once out, he put on a robe and brushed his teeth, still not thinking, not looking at his reflection in the mirror.
When he walked into the bedroom, Yohji wasnít there. The privacy curtain was open and his bed was empty. Was Yohji somewhere in the trailer? Wouldnít Aya hear him if he were? Had he gone out somewhere?
Had he gone to meet Schuldig?
Aya knew he was being ridiculous. He couldnít bring himself to care.
I had Yukio, he thought as he crawled miserably into bed. Itís only fair.
He knew he didnít believe it.
The problem isnít that youíre a man or that you do weird shit. Itís that youíre you. How could the ability to do freakish sex tricks with his body make up for that? Taking Yohji inside him didnít guarantee that he could keep him.
Sleep was a long time in coming.
"If youíre really worried about losing Yohji, I know something you can try," Schuldig purred from the passenger seat. He rested his head back and looked very comfortable.
Aya could remember a time when his dreams were just dreams. Or his nightmares were simply nightmares, which he still preferred to this. "Iím not taking any advice from you! Youíre the big fucking problem here!" Aya sat in the driverís seat. What a joke.
"Who do you think put Yohji up to moving on you? You wouldnít even have him if not for me."
"How the hell do you figure that?"
"He moved on woman you in the car because I kept paying attention to you and he wanted to get there first. He offered himself to guy you that night because I let him know about our little bit of alley sex. I even let him feel it."
"Thatís right," Schuldig said. "He knew. You wouldnít have gotten any action from him if not for me."
Yohji knew. Knew and wanted, what, seconds? Wanted to re-stake a claim on him? Wanted to get to Schuldig through him?
"I owe you nothing," Aya growled.
"So Iíll give this to you free too. You remember how you were able to ghost Omi through that building. Have you ever tried giving Yohji that sexy rush you get? Heíd never stray after that."
"I donít know what the hell Iím doing!"
"Sure, you might hurt him, but a guy like Yohji would see that as a small chance to take considering the payoff."
"Iím not listening to you! Youíre my fucking rival here, and Iím supposed to take your advice on how to keep him?"
What if Yohji really liked it and only stayed with him for that? He would stop being a person and become some kind of drug. Yohji would be addicted to something only he could provide and be as much a slave to the rushes as he was. The thought made him feel ill.
Besides, Yohji already thought he was a freak, so the proper response was not to offer up more unnatural perversions.
Schuldig leaned across the space between them to breathe, "I donít think youíre a freak, Aya," into his ear.
"Youíre far from objective."
"Think over how much he really means to you and see what youíre willing to do." Schuldig put his hand on Ayaís thigh. "And, you know, Iím always here."
Aya hit the brakes. "Get out."
The telepath pouted. "Yohjiís so much more accommodating." Then he disappeared again.
Aya stopped the car, crossed his arms over the steering wheel, and rested his head against them.
Yohji lay on his back in the grass, eyes closed, one hand under his head and the other holding a cigarette. He was smelling Tokyo.
Though he hadnít been as vocal about it as the others, he had to admit that it was good to be home. In Tokyo, he knew the bars, he knew the clubs, he knew the women. He knew the smells. Tokyo held good memories for him as well as bad ones, and heíd never really felt comfortable anywhere else.
"Very poetic," said a voice from somewhere nearby. Yohji cracked an eye open and saw Schuldigís boots in the grass. "Trouble in paradise?"
"Not really," Yohji said. He took a drag from his cigarette. "Heíll get over it. Havenít you noticed the pattern yet? He gets mad at me over something, he sulks, I grovel, we have make-up sex. It works."
"I suppose." Schuldig cocked his head questioningly, and for reasons he didnít quite understand, Yohji gestured for him to sit. Schuldig settled himself gingerly in the grass. Probably wondering how to get grass stains out of white trousers.
The rest of WeiŖ was asleep in the trailer behind him, not ten meters away. He should be yelling for help.
Hating himself for it, yet feeling vaguely smug about making the gesture, Yohji held out the pack of cigarettes. If Schuldig could pretend they were urbane acquaintances instead of mortal enemies, then so could he, damn it. It was certainly less strenuous.
Schuldig took a cigarette, and as Yohji lit it for him, he wondered how exactly he had gotten to the point where he could sit in the grass next to an evil, amoral telepath and not fear for his life.
He thought of Aya, asleep in the trailer.
He thought, apropos of nothing, that Schuldig would know what it was like to burn his hair on a lit cigarette on a windy day.
He said, "Youíre not doing anything to my mind, are you."
It wasnít really a question. Schuldig answered anyway. "All you, darliní."
"Good." Yohji stubbed his cigarette out in the wet grass, leaned forward, and very deliberately kissed Schuldig.
It was exactly as he had imagined it would be.
After the initial split second of non-reaction-- during which he flattered himself that he had managed to surprise the telepath, and for some reason Schuldig didnít bother disabusing him of that notion-- Schuldig responded with a wild, fierce hunger, his hands coming up to fist painfully in Yohjiís hair. That was good. Yohji didnít think he could have handled tenderness.
As he felt himself being pushed back down onto the grass, he realized that Schuldigís voice had so far been remarkably absent in his head.
The kiss lasted for a long time. Eventually Schuldig pulled away, breathing hard. Yohji felt a small thrill of victory at that. Dark blue eyes bored into his, and he had the uncanny sense that Schuldig was staring straight into his brain. Which, in a way, he was. Soft, wild orange hair fell around them like a curtain, trapping them in a cage of silk. Tiger lilies....
Schuldig smirked. "What is this unholy fascination with my hair?"
Annoyed, Yohji reached up, intending to push him off. Schuldig caught his wrists, met his angry scowl, and said solemnly, "You, Kudou, are a consummate florist."
"Flatterer." Yohji yanked fruitlessly at his captured wrists. He had the sinking feeling that he wasnít struggling as hard as he could.
"Of course youíre not. You want this. You made the first move, remember? I feel practically molested. Not that Iím complaining, mind."
"Hardly the first," Yohji muttered.
"True, I was asking for it, wasnít I? So tell me, Kudou, what do you want from me?"
"Canít you find out for yourself?"
"Iíd like to hear it from you."
Yohji rolled his eyes. "Now youíre obtaining consent?"
"Actually, I just like to watch you beg."
Yohji stared up at him, stubbornly mute, and Schuldig chuckled. "I like you. Youíre easy to read. Youíre like a picture book full of one-syllable words, set in really big type."
"Youíre not winning my heart here."
Schuldig purred, "Not the organ I had in mind."
Yohji swallowed. Schuldig was hard. So was he.
Schuldig was lying on top of him, and it felt right.
Weakly he said, "Itís been a very good few months for you, hasnít it?"
Schuldig actually seemed to ponder the question. "You know, Iíve been knocked around quite a bit lately. You and Aya fight dirty."
"Yeah, shame on us."
Schuldig smirked. "But Iíve had fantastic sex."
Yohji felt himself shudder. Almost afraid to speak, he whispered, "You know what I want."
"What, revenge for Yukio?"
"No, but itís a part of it. Donít lie to me, Kudou, Iím a fucking telepath. I really wish people would remember that."
"Weíre not exclusive," Yohji said. "We donít even want to be."
"But Yukio gets a version of Aya you donít get, doesnít she? Even when youíre fucking Ayaís girl parts, heís still not really a girl for you the way he is for her. So you want me to have a part of you that he doesnít get."
Yohji looked away and shrugged, the best he could while lying on his back. Heíd had a lot of practice. "Hey, if youíre not up for it--"
Schuldig silenced him with a brutal kiss that drove all of his senses haywire. He pulled back and, as Yohji gasped for air and tried to regain coherent thought, he growled, "Iím always up for it."
"I noticed," Yohji managed to say.
"Iím only gonna ask once, and I wouldnít even do that if I werenít in such a good mood. No changing your mind. Make a decision and stick to it. So whatíll it be? Yes or no?"
Yohji stared up at Schuldig, at his fair skin and sharp nose and narrowed blue eyes and blazing hair, and suddenly he felt very, very tired.
He thought, I canít deal with this.
Schuldig gave a disappointed tsk and stood, leaving Yohji sprawled on the grass, disheveled and bereft and yet somehow relieved. "I expected better, Kudou."
"Sorry to disappoint," Yohji muttered, lighting a cigarette with shaking hands.
"Oh, thatís all right. Contrary to what certain people think, I can be patient if I want. Eventually youíre gonna have to admit it to yourself. And when that day comes, Iíll be there waiting."
And then, with a smirk: "See you in your dreams."
Then he was gone.
Yohji closed his eyes. Something was opening up inside him, something that felt like a big, empty hole in his chest. He felt hollow, as though he could collapse inward at any given moment.
He should go inside. Go in, jerk off, and try to get some sleep.
Instead he lay on the grass and watched the sky until the sun rose.
Soon after it broke the horizon, Aya walked out, fully dressed and male, and sat beside him. For a long time Aya said nothing. Finally he asked softly, "What did I do wrong this time?" in such a miserable voice that Yohji didnít for a moment mistake it for sarcasm. "I donít make you happy."
"Iím starting to wonder if anyone can. I canít do it myself either." Yohji lit another cigarette. "What happened tonight? You were fine-- better than fine-- until Mikae brought up Schuldig. Heís a pain in the ass, yeah, but itís like the life got ripped out of you. You know heís stalking me too." Feeling perverse, Yohji continued, "Besides, you have that Yoshida girl."
Avoiding his eyes, Aya plucked then methodically shredded a blade of grass, making it give off a sharp, pungent scent as he destroyed it. "Iíd give her up. I went to the bar with you as a woman to try to make up for that night with her. So Iíd give her up."
Yohji nearly choked. Just give her up, the girl whoíd made Aya feel like less of a freak on a night when heíd been a mess. The girl who could put a smile on his face. It would be a huge sacrifice, but Aya was the king of self-denial. Yohji didnít know what to say to that aside from "Letís not go there right now. Just tell me what happened tonight."
Aya took a deep breath. "I know that youíre not comfortable with me--"
"I wonít talk if you interrupt." He sounded tired.
Yohji knew how that felt right now. "Yeah, okay. My lips are sealed."
"I get the feeling that youíd be happier with her." No need to ask whom he meant by Ďher,í and Yohji felt a sharp twinge of guilt, because he had thought that. Aya continued, "I thought it might be that you were uncomfortable with me being a man. But Schuldig... let me know that you dreamed about having sex with him and told me that your problem wasnít my gender. It was me."
Even as Yohji squirmed over Aya knowing about that dream too, Yohji couldnít let the rest of it go past without a challenge. "And you believed him that youíre the problem?" he asked angrily.
"I know Iím difficult and fucked-up. I know that we wouldnít be here right now if I hadnít caught your eye as a woman. Can you blame me?"
No. Schuldig always knew the tender spots. "When did he say this? No, let me guess, it was the appearance that got us back to Tokyo." The one Aya had refused to talk about. "Címere."
Aya gave him a wary look, then looked down at the grass again. "I didnít talk about this to--"
"Just get the fuck over here. Lean on me or something."
Aya stiffly leaned against him but gradually relaxed with his head on Yohjiís shoulder and Yohjiís arm around him. They hadnít solved anything, but knowing what was going on with him had to be a good first step. Had to be.
"You know, itís almost like weíre already in some kind of twisted threesome," Aya said. "Heís made out with you and had sex with me. We see him and think about him constantly, and we have to factor him into everything we do."
Yohji confessed, "He just came to see me."
"He just came to talk to me in a dream."
"That little shit! What the hell did he say to you?"
"He offered advice on how to keep you. I told him that Iíd hardly trust anything heíd have to say on that topic." Aya gave him a sidelong look. "What did you get from your visit?"
No way Yohji would get into that, so he said, "The usual."
"Hnnh." Then Aya sat there in silence, staring ahead, seemingly lost in thought.
Aya said nothing. Did his eyes have a vaguely psychotic glint to them? Yohji had never loved anyone who could scare him shitless just by sitting quietly before.
"Are you insane?" Schuldig suddenly asked from behind them.
Yohji stood and turned to face him with his fingers ready on his watch. "What?"
The telepath sounded enraged. "Not you. Him!"
"Maybe I am." Aya had a small smile on his face as he stood. "You were still in the neighborhood?"
"Kudou, he intends to kill himself."
"What?" Yohji asked. What the hell was Aya up to now?
"Only if I couldnít kill Schuldig," Aya said.
This had to be a bluff. Had to be. But Schuldig could read Ayaís mind and seemed to be taking it very seriously. "What about your sister?" Yohji asked, though of course he was also thinking, What about me?
"I would regret what my death would do to her and you, but it would also change everything in a better way."
"Do tell," Schuldig muttered, his arms crossed.
"Yohji would hate me for it, but Iíd be dead. You wouldnít be, and heíd be hating you too. I also wouldnít want to get on Omiís bad side. He already wants you dead, but my suicide would turn it into war because heíd know why it happened. Ken wouldnít need any further excuse. They would hunt you down. You wouldnít have any further interest in Aya, because she has no value to you beyond what threatening her would do to me."
Yohji fought the urge to say something, because Aya had to have some kind of plan and he didnít want to accidentally fuck it up. But it was hard to listen to Aya talk like this.
"You do it, I go right for your sister and Yohji."
"I think youíll be too busy for that between WeiŖ going after you and Crawford being ticked off that one of your games changed things on him so much." Aya smiled in a way that scared Yohji and seemed to unsettle Schuldig a little. "You like games, but I donít. You pushed too far."
Was that panic in his eyes? "I can stop you."
"How much of my mind would you have to rewrite to do that? You have a fetish for forcing us to jump on our own. How much fun would I be lobotomized? Then again, this might be academic, because I might kill you first."
Schuldig had a look on his face that suggested heíd bitten into something sour. "Is there a C, none of the above, option? I donít want to be dead, and for now youíre too good a toy to lose. You just about shouted out to me, so you must want to deal."
"That option would be to back the fuck off from me and Yohji. Youíre in our faces and our dreams and our heads all the time lately. It makes me twitchy, and I donít need to be any more unstable than I am. Itís not like everything else is going so well."
"You gonna call off Bombay?"
Schuldig sounded worried about what Omi would do. Kid must be getting dangerous....
"You gonna back off? He doesnít care this much about you when youíre not threatening his people."
"Iíll lay off you," Schuldig answered with the fakest smile Yohji had ever seen. "If thatís what you really want."
"Sure it is. You got anything to say, Yohji?"
"I think a break from you would be good."
"Youíre both so cruel."
"I can fuck up my life and relationship with Yohji just fine without your help," Aya said softly.
Did Schuldig look hurt? Nah. "Fine. Youíll be bored without me."
"One last kiss?"
Aya looked almost torn for a moment but said, "You remember that I said you push things too far."
The telepath smiled. "Whatever. See you around." He walked away with a provocative sway in his step that made his long hair swing. Just as Yohji thought that maybe he could whip his wire out and nail the bastard, Schuldig turned and said, "Give it up, Kudou," before continuing on his way.
"Thanks for trusting me on that," Aya said softly.
Yohji smacked the back of Ayaís head. "You really would have done it! You scared the hell out of me."
"It would have been pointless if I hadnít been willing to actually go through with it. I took a chance, figuring that he may kill us in an instant if someone paid him to, but in his own psychotic way he cares about us."
"Big chance." Yohji lit a cigarette. Damn, did he need one. "You know that heís probably figuring out a way around our deal already."
"Yeah, but at least it gives us some time."
"You think I need help hating Schuldig?"
"I think you have as much trouble with it sometimes as I do."
Yohji snorted. "Weíre having one big night, uh, morning of honesty here, arenít we?"
"We probably shouldnít do it very often. I donít think we could survive it."
"But while weíre doing it...."
"I donít prefer Schuldig to you." Yohji understood now that it had to be said. Who knew that Aya could be so insecure? "I have a twisted lust thing with Schuldig, but so do you, so you shouldnít judge that. Youíre the one I want to snuggle with and go to bars with and fight with and have fucked up queer sex with. I want you with me no matter what the hell you are today."
Aya had a slight smile on his face, and it wasnít scary at all. "I think thatís the sweetest thing anyoneís said to me in about two years."
"Iím good for all the things you mentioned except for the bars. I havenít had much luck in bars." Aya leaned against him. "I need to have those kinds of things listed and detailed for me sometimes."
"I get it." Yohji kissed him. Everything would work out somehow. After all, Aya had just gotten Schuldig off their backs for a while, and Yohji never thought that would happen short of someone dying. And Aya was even bantering with him. Hell had to be freezing over.
"You can get a room later," Ken said from the doorway. "Weíre opening in five minutes."
"I donít usually work this time," Yohji said.
"Youíre not usually awake at this time, but since you are today, you can make yourself useful."
"I knew I hated mornings."
"How can you hate something you rarely see?"
"Iíll get you back for this."
Ken grinned. "Sure, Yohji."
Yohji asked Aya, "Youíll help me get back at Ken, right?"
Aya simply looked amused. "For what? You can suffer with the rest of us, Yohji-kun."
Aya smiled as he watched Yohji appeal to their schoolgirl clientele for sympathy. While he knew better than to believe that everything had been settled permanently, he hadnít felt this hopeful in a while, and heíd only had to talk to Yohji and threaten suicide to do it.
Well, Yohji wasnít any less fucked-up than Aya was, really. He just hid it better.
One day at a time. If Yohji could try to be fine with him no matter what the hell he was today, the least he could do was attempt the same.
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten
E-mail the authors:
Maya Tawi - firstname.lastname@example.org
Viridian5 - Viridian5@aol.com
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The Green Room version 3.0 (Viridian5's fanfiction)