by Maya Tawi and Viridian5
By the time Manx left it was almost three in the morning. Omi had school the next day, the poor bastard, so Ken herded him off to bed, overriding Omi’s objections of God knew what-- something involving the computer, no doubt-- with his best I’m The Coach, Do What I Say voice, and left Yohji alone with Aya. Again.
Yohji slumped in his seat, pointedly studying his hands, darting occasional glances at Aya from behind his sunglasses. Perched on the edge of the sofa, avoiding Yohji’s eyes, Aya looked... wrong. Different. Normal.
Fuck, he didn’t even know anymore.
Aya stood abruptly, still not looking at Yohji. "I’m going to bed."
"Good idea," Yohji said, standing as well. And then, inanely: "Busy night."
Aya’s mouth twisted in acknowledgement, but he didn’t say anything. Big surprise.
Yohji followed him silently to the bedroom and caught himself staring at Aya’s jeans-clad ass, probably out of habit. He shook his head, trying to banish the image. Aya was male now-- and he’d certainly seen enough of that already, thank you very much.
He had no excuses for checking out Aya’s ass, not with Aya wearing the baggiest jeans he owned.
Aya was looking at him strangely. "What’s wrong?" he demanded.
God, that voice-- vintage cranky Aya, with no hint of the modulating feminine purr.... "Nothing," Yohji said quickly, and willed it to be so.
"Hnh." Aya held his gaze for another long moment. Yohji smiled nervously. Aya shook his head and stepped into the bedroom.
The lights were off, Ken and Omi already snoring away in their respective bunks. Yohji felt something soften in his chest as he stared down at them. They’d all been through a lot that night. Suddenly Omi’s recent strange behavior didn’t seem to matter as much.
And then all the built-up exhaustion hit him like a brick wall (like a falling building, an evil voice whispered in his head) and Yohji collapsed on his own bed with a long, drawn-out sigh. He needed a shower, but as soon as he hit the mattress he knew he wouldn’t be getting up any time soon. It could wait until morning. He wasn’t that dirty. He wasn’t the one who’d had a building explode around him, after all.
He shed his clothes with the ease of long practice, dropping them on the floor beside his bunk, then glanced at Aya as he crawled under the covers. And tried not to watch as Aya pulled off his sweater and shimmied out of the loose jeans, folding both neatly on top of his dresser. Tried not to stare at the loose boxers that were Aya’s only concession to decency. Because Aya was male. And he’d seen enough of male Aya to last him a lifetime. He really had.
Sure you have, Kudou.
The mental voice sounded unsettlingly familiar. Yohji couldn’t tell if it was actually Schuldig in his head or if his inner smart-ass had just started to take on Schuldig’s voice. He wasn’t sure which would be worse.
Just to be safe, he thought, Fuck off, asshole, as loudly as he could, then rolled over and buried his face determinedly in his pillow. It wasn’t long before he dropped off to sleep.
The dream started like countless others-- a warm, yielding body against his, warm feminine touches brushing his skin. Yohji pressed his lips against hers, ran his hands over her luscious curves, and if he gave his dream woman pale lavender eyes and a thatch of improbably red hair, well, that wasn’t so strange, was it? Considering how long he’d been lusting after Aya’s female form and the ways Aya pulled him in close, then pushed him away, frustrating, teasing....
He wasn’t sure when things changed, only that the hip under his hand was suddenly hard and angular, the chest against his smooth and flat, and as something hot and rigid and alien pressed up against his thigh an unexpected wave of lust crashed over him, making him shudder, wracking his body down to the bone.
Aya, he thought, or maybe said, over and over and over. Aya, Aya, Aya. Aya murmuring Yohji’s name and begging with words and his body, as wanton and demanding as he’d been as a woman.
And then another body pressed up against Yohji from behind, warm and sweat-slicked and oh so inviting, and he fit so neatly into the cradle of hips, the
hard cock thrusting insistently into him in time with Aya’s thrusts, with his own. Too much, too good.... He was between, surrounded by willing flesh, kissed and pressed and rubbed and petted, being fucked, and he loved it.
Caressing silk-soft hair spilled over his shoulder, the color of sunset, of tiger lilies, making him shudder. Teeth closed down hard on his earlobe and, oh God, he was coming hard into Aya’s fist. He gasped for breath and saw stars, and then he was looking over his shoulder into narrowed blue eyes and
(oh God oh God)
Schuldig smirked at him and purred, "Never thought you’d have it in you."
And then he woke up.
Ran stared at the scene in front of him, because it shouldn’t be like this. His parents on the floor, dead. The clock. That sound.... Even his shock-slowed brain knew what would come next. He had to get Aya out of here, save Aya, but there was no time. He yelled at her to get out, get out, and pushed her. His home exploded into pieces around him with a roar the way his life had exploded, the way his head was exploding. So fast, so total, screaming along with him. It hurt.
Dust and dirt and fire. Pinned. He couldn’t move under the debris, but he could see her get up from the ground and stand there outside, looking surprised and completely unharmed. A miracle. His pain and the burning inside didn’t matter while she lived and he lived. He’d saved her. He hadn’t failed her.
Light blinked on, blinding. Confused, they turned to face it. The black shape sped toward her, and when it hit her she flew. Too late to scream at her to move-- though he did scream-- or try to free himself. He shuddered himself at the feeling of impact. Her body hit the wet ground hard with an ugly sound, and she didn’t move.
She couldn’t be dead. Was not dead. Girls didn’t die on their 16th birthdays, especially not after their brothers had already saved them. She would have her birthday dinner and all the time she was supposed to have if he had to kill himself to give them to her. He wouldn’t let anyone rob her of anything. Live, Aya, live....
Something inside him broke and started to cool to dead, gray ash, turning colder and harder as he watched two men arguing nearby, both of them ignoring his sister’s crumpled body, neglecting to help her. One man visible through a limo’s open window, another standing outside yelling at him. Ran would remember them.
Unable to breathe, the inside of his head splintering, Ran passed--
Something moved under his chin and pushed his head up to make him stare at a tall figure that stayed utterly dry despite the rain. "No need for that. This isn’t real, just a memory." The man lit a cigarette, grinned, and moved the toe of his boot out from under Ran’s chin. "Well, fuck me. Things make more sense now." Schuldig.
Ran became Aya as contemporary knowledge returned. "Get out of my head."
"Ingrate. You were scheduled for a nightmare."
"You don’t think this was a nightmare? And I’m sure you did that from the goodness of your heart."
"Hell, no. I did it because I’m a nosy little bitch. This is the first time I got the whole thing. Before, you blocked out the little details even to yourself and just left the broad strokes: sappy happiness before, dead parents, oh no, boom, roadkill sister, the Takatoris."
Aya snarled and stood, the memory debris falling easily away, and walked over to his sister. As Aya crouched in the mud beside her memory, Schuldig said, "They were so obsessed with her and never realized that you were the key. Classic."
"What are you babbling about?" Aya asked as his sister’s body faded away.
"Amazing what desperation and blind ignorance can do. You saved your life once, hers twice, and screwed yourself up in only a few minutes. She would have died when Takatori hit her, but you saved her and made her forever 16. She didn’t age because of you. No wonder you make such a good woman. You bound yourself to your sister, you poor bastard."
No. "Then why couldn’t I wake her up?"
"You’re a biokinetic with a medical degree and intensive training in your ability? Nope. You didn’t have a clue what to do or how to do it. You didn’t even know you could do anything. Maybe if she’d started to die in the hospital, it would have forced a subconscious action, but you weren’t that lucky. Sorry, sweet."
"Get out of my brain."
"You know, I could have satisfied my curiosity and left without you knowing. I don’t have to clue you in. I could be in Yohji’s head right now, and it sounds like something fun is going on in there, let me tell you."
"Why are you... helping me, then?"
"Can’t beat the interactive entertainment. Besides, you put on quite a show for me with Yohji and Yukio."
Aya rushed up to strike. "Son of a--"
Lightning swift, Schuldig grabbed him, reeled him in, and kissed him, then disappeared.
"I’m sure you’re that fast in everything," Aya muttered, his lips tingling.
Schuldig reappeared to say, "Oh no, I can go all night long on that," then faded out, his smirk disappearing last.
Yohji crept past Aya’s bunk. No one walking here. No one who just had a hot and disturbing dream about you and your stalker. But he couldn’t help stopping to look in, to see if Aya had feminized again. Nope, still original flavor Aya. Even in the near darkness, the shape was unmistakably male. Aya made a sound in his sleep that could almost be a whimper.
Aya would kill him for hearing it.
Yohji remembered the cascade of impressions he’d gotten the first time he’d met Aya: crazy, bombastic, reckless, asshole. Followed by: This is supposed to be our new teammate? Later, Yohji got to see the non-mission version of Aya, who was frigid and uncommunicative and tended to alternate between sullen rage and a depression badly veiled as apathy. Then he’d really wondered who the hell had decided that Aya would fit with them. Not that he expected well-adjusted sanity from anyone who would be drawn into Weiß, but a pleasant personality was appreciated.
When had Aya grown on him?
That had to be it. Grown on him. Yohji had gotten used to having a sullen crimson-haired presence in his life, just as in the last month he’d gotten so accustomed to connecting lust with that hair and presence that he couldn’t stop now.
Aya was part of the team that made up the core of Yohji’s life. Getting a rise out of Aya was easy, but that didn’t mean that doing it stopped being fun. Trying to make him smile presented more of a challenge, and Yohji had accepted it. Omi existed to be cute and fun to tease and too smart. Yohji hoped that he could settle things with Omi so they could get back to that. Ken made a great straight man and was always there, a wall you could put your back against.
When Weiß had disbanded and scattered after they’d nailed Takatori, Yohji had done well for himself without them and hadn’t really missed them, yet he’d gone right back into the team as if he’d never left when Schreient attacked them as individuals and remained reunited with them even after Schreient’s destruction and their recovery of Aya’s sister. They’d helped keep him together after he’d... killed Asuka, Neu, whoever she’d really been, with Omi and Ken worried and sympathetic and Aya short with him but still worried and sympathetic in an Aya way. Pretending to turn on Ken and Omi, even though Ken and Omi had been in on the act, during the Powell mission had torn at him.
He didn’t want to want them around. He didn’t want to worry that he might not be able to keep himself together without them anymore. But he didn’t want to lust after Aya either, and look how that was going.
Ken seemed to be the only one awake, unusual for this time of morning. Omi still looked exhausted even while sleeping, so Ken decided not to bother him. Kid could stand to miss a day of school, especially after the even later than usual night and close escape from death. If Aya hadn’t been breathing, Ken would have thought him dead from how drained and still he looked. It worried him, but Aya had even more reason to be out cold than Omi did. If Aya slept through the afternoon, then he’d get really worried. And at least Aya was still Aya, so maybe he’d finally changed back for good. Weird that seeing a guy in that bed seemed wrong.
It was a shame he never had to try to wake girl Aya up.
Yohji still slept, but that was normal. Well, Ken needed help setting up and running the shop, so Yohji would have to do with less beauty sleep. Ken shook him hard.
"Time to work, Yohji. I’m giving Aya a break this morning, so you’re elected."
Yohji shoved his face into the pillow. "Slave driver."
"When you walk through walls to get yourself and Omi to safety, you can have the morning off too."
After 20 minutes of yelling, pulling, pushing, and dragging, followed by shoving a mug of coffee into Yohji’s face, Ken finally got him out the door to set up. At least he hadn’t been forced to bathe and dress him. That would have been too much. "I hope you appreciate my sacrifice," he muttered as he checked in on Omi and Aya one last time.
A morning with Yohji had major differences from a morning with Aya. Sure, Yohji kidded around more and was friendlier, but Ken kept getting stuck with the crap jobs and had to make sure Yohji did even the tasks he said he’d do. Flirting-- something Yohji did unconsciously, like breathing-- might help ensure that their customers returned, but other things were necessary too. Ken called him a lazy bastard at least four times an hour. Cool silence started to seem very attractive, especially since it had always been paired with competence, professionalism, and a tendency to quietly do whatever needed to be done as it needed to be done.
Sometime after lunch, Omi ran out of the trailer. "I can’t wake Aya up."
And it was four o’clock in the afternoon. "He’s still breathing, right?" Ken asked.
"Yeah, but I can’t even get a murmur out of him and look how late it is! Oh, and I hate it that you didn’t get me up for school."
"You needed a vacation." It might be nothing. Aya could just be really tired. "Let’s go see Aya."
"What’s going on?" Yohji asked as he hefted a basket around.
"Omi can’t wake Aya up."
"Damn." He put his burden down and turned their sign around, then yelled, "We’re taking a break, girls. Be back soon."
Amidst the girls’ moans and sighs, Ken asked, "Is it really necessary to have all three of us standing over him? It’ll freak him out."
"And if we can’t get him going?"
"I hate this."
For some reason, Yohji went off to the kitchen while the rest of them walked to the sleeping area. Ken figured that he’d find out what was up with that soon enough.
Aya had barely moved since Ken had last seen him. Could be bad, or could just be Aya. Ken took him by the shoulder and shook it gently. "Aya, c’mon. Aya!" No response. Aya’s body moved bonelessly in his grip, without any resistance. Okay, considering what Aya could do, maybe for the sake of his own mental health Ken shouldn’t think he could be ‘boneless’. Scary.
It would be too much of a sick joke for Aya to slip into a coma after what had happened to his sister.
"I tried that," Omi said.
"Step back," Yohji said as he walked in with a pot and a metal spoon. Ken and Omi put their hands over their ears as Yohji whaled on the pot for about five minutes, but Ken could still hear the clanging.
Aya didn’t stir.
"That is serious sleep," Yohji said, but he looked concerned. He put the pot and spoon down, picked Aya up by his shoulders, and shook him hard, making his head rock back and forth. "Aya, wake up, dammit!"
"Yohji!" Omi yelled.
"Lemme sleep... Yohji," Aya mumbled, sounding blurry. His eyelids flickered but didn’t open. Still, Omi looked as relieved as Ken felt.
"Okay," Yohji said and carefully lowered him down to his pillow, brushing Aya’s hair out of his face before taking his hands away. "Glad I didn’t have to resort to a bucket of ice water.... See, guys? Not comatose. But he feels a bit warm."
"I thought so too," Ken said.
"Not burning up, just a bit too warm." Yohji must have meant it to reassure Omi, because he looked in the kid’s direction, but Omi was already gone.
Omi returned with a wet washcloth and set it on Aya’s forehead. "We don’t know enough," Omi said. Aya sighed softly. Omi continued, "I don’t think Kritiker knows much either."
"Or would tell us even if they did. If this keeps up, we might have to contact someone who does." Yohji had a look on his face Ken didn’t like.
"We’re not going to Schwarz for help!" Omi said.
"That’s for sure," Ken said. "Are you nuts, Yohji?"
Yohji looked disturbed too but answered, "It might not be necessary, but what if Aya has problems? We all know jack shit."
"Maybe you spent too much time with Schuldig," Omi muttered.
"He didn’t do anything to me!" Yohji protested, but something was off. Schuldig had done something.
"Aya would rather die than ask them for help."
"What if it really comes to that?"
"We don’t have to think about that yet," Ken said, feeling like the only reasonable person in the room. "Let’s see how he’s doing tonight, okay?"
Aya woke in darkness with something cold and clammy on his face. Confused, he stayed very still and tried to figure out what had happened. It felt like his bed. The sheets still smelled like his female self. A little more reassured, he reached for the damp object and felt a washcloth. He took it away, then turned on the light.
He hadn’t changed again. Everything was where it should be, and he didn’t have breasts anymore. Despite the badly chipped polish on the nails, the hand in front of his face couldn’t be mistaken for a woman’s. He was happy to be back, he told himself.
Still, his current circumstances confused him. It seemed to be night, suggesting that he’d barely slept at all, yet none of the others were in their bunks. He put a robe on and looked for them, still walking a bit awkwardly, to his annoyance. To his relief, he heard their voices drifting out of the kitchen. When he entered the room they looked far too happy to see him. Something had to be wrong.
"You’re awake!" Ken exclaimed.
Aya frowned. He was, indeed, awake. It had never been a cause for celebration before.
Omi must have sensed his confusion, because he said quietly, "You slept all day. We were starting to worry."
He shook his head in automatic denial. "I couldn’t have--"
"You did," Yohji said, with little sympathy. "It’s Thursday evening. Welcome back to the land of the living."
Aya sat down hard at the kitchen table. Omi immediately began to hover. "Are you okay? Would you like some tea? Some food? You’re probably starving, you slept so long--"
"I’m fine," Aya said, staring blankly ahead. And then there wasn’t much else to say, so he didn’t say anything. He felt movement, heard cabinets opening and closing behind him, a kettle being put on the stove. It all seemed very distant.
He’d slept all day?
After a moment Yohji slid into the chair across from him. "Are you okay?" Yohji asked quietly.
"I’m fine," Aya said again. Their concern was starting to irritate him. "What happened?"
Yohji had a funny little smile on his face. It almost made Aya nervous. "You refused to wake up. I covered your shift. You owe me."
"It was a sacrifice, but I forbore."
Yohji grinned. "What exactly are you implying?"
It was so easy to slip back into the easy banter, to forget how abnormal he truly was. Earlier that night-- no, last night-- he had walked through walls and falling debris to get himself and Omi to safety. Today Yohji had covered his shift in the flower shop.
"Thank you," he said abruptly, and decided it was worth it for the shocked look on Yohji’s face. A cup of tea was placed in front of him, and he sipped it gratefully. That helped too.
Omi sat down and said, "I suppose it was a side effect of... whatever it is you do. It must take a physical toll."
Ken looked thoughtful. "Do you remember if it happened before? After Schreient, or the citadel?"
Aya shook his head, impatient. "That couldn’t have been my doing. I would have known--"
"The same way you knew about the ‘partner’ Kritiker thought you had?" Omi asked. Sweet, innocent, scarily perceptive Omi.
Maybe he should listen to Omi. He clearly couldn’t trust his own memories.
Omi could be helpful. "Omi, I was wondering if you could look up a term for me. ‘Biokinetic’ or maybe ‘biokinesis’?"
"That sounds familiar," Yohji said.
"One of the things Schuldig made you forget?"
Omi and Ken stared at Yohji, who protested, "Let’s see how well you guys do against a master telepath!"
So Schuldig had mentioned it to both of them, which either made it a true lead or a bid for misdirection.
"Do we have a mission tonight?" Aya asked. He felt energized and would appreciate an outlet for it.
"Nope," Omi answered. "Maybe Manx told them we deserved a break, considering what happened yesterday." Omi looked at him, then mouthed, "Disappointed?"
Aya just closed his eyes, having no idea what he would do with himself. "Can I have some privacy to call my sister?" Aya-chan had to know that he’d successfully returned to his true form. She’d be so pleased....
"Sure," Ken said as he dragged Yohji away. Omi stood to follow.
Aya’s hand passed through the phone as he reached to pick it up, and the sight sent a chill through him. He’d felt less stable, less real, since he’d returned to consciousness after his walk through the falling building and found out what he could do. Where once he’d been stuck in one form or another, now he felt like he could easily slide at any time, with no warning. He’d nearly slipped back from remembering how thrilled Aya had been to have a sister, and thinking about Yukio had triggered a near change to woman form that he’d stopped at the last moment. It frightened him, but what could he do except work hard at self-control?
Feeling eyes staring at his back, Aya turned to see Omi watching him with concern. Damn. At least only Omi had remained to see it. Aya very deliberately picked up the phone and saluted him with it.
"I only need some practice. You have to expect some trouble at the beginning."
Omi approached and put his hand on Aya’s arm. It didn’t sink through. "If you have any problems, tell us, okay? I mean it. I don’t want you or any of the rest of us getting hurt because you’re too proud." In that moment he looked very adult.
Perhaps Aya could bribe him with more information. "I think I know why I turned female."
Omi almost vibrated at that, like a hunting dog on the scent of prey. "You do?" Then he asked, "You’re gonna tell me, right? You couldn’t be cruel enough to say that and then walk off."
He could but didn’t intend to. "This is what I think. I changed to a woman now because we returned to Tokyo. I could avoid my sister for her own good easier when somewhere across Japan from her. In town... in a place I considered something almost like a home... I had fewer excuses to place as walls in front of my desire to see her. I was aware that she was nearby and possibly hurt by our estrangement. All I had to do was see her, but I didn’t dare."
Omi nodded. "You were under stress, and being under battle conditions made it worse. Under stress, thinking of your sister, you... flipped."
Schuldig had actually been helpful. The world must be ending. "I believe so. And the longer I was a woman, the more it self-perpetuated. I became accustomed to not being able to turn back, especially since I had no idea why it had happened to begin with."
"Then you started to enjoy being a woman a little bit."
Aya couldn’t let him think that, even if it were partially true. "I didn’t. The rest of you had far more fun with it than I did."
"You don’t seem very convincing."
"Maybe because I’m not convinced."
"I have to call my sister."
"It’s better than dealing with the truth?"
"Always. I’m talking to my sister now."
"Please take that look off your face."
"Sure, Aya." Omi left the room with that look intact.
He called her at home and reached Mrs. Tomoe. "It’s Ran. Can I speak with my sister, please?"
From how quickly she picked up at her end, she might have run and yanked the phone out of her guardian’s hand. "Ran! Talk to me! Boy?"
"I knew it! You wouldn’t call here if you were still my sister. What happened?"
He wondered if the Tomoes were listening. "I figured out what had gone wrong and fixed it."
"That’s all the detail I get?"
He remembered his terror as the room caved in around him and Omi. "Yes. It had some scary moments, but it’s over now."
"Will it happen again?"
"I’m learning how to control it."
"You did it to yourself somehow? I should be more surprised."
"But you’re not."
"What you must think of me."
"I think of you often." She sounded so affectionate that he couldn’t be too angry that she apparently considered him to be very strange. "Will you be back soon?"
"It depends on how work goes."
She sighed. "I understand."
"So how has school been?"
Omi curled up in his bunk and tried to sleep, but he understood too well the kind of nervous energy that demanded a mission to exorcise it because he felt it too right now. A mission made it hard to brood on your own thoughts. Aya wanted to be distracted. Omi could relate.
Ken and Yohji probably figured that Aya’s return to his true form had ended their problems, but Omi knew that yesterday’s events had just started a new set of difficulties for Aya and them. Of the three of them, he was the one who had the closest idea of what Aya was going through, what it felt like. He still shivered at the memory of that walk, the dust and confusion, Aya being the only thing in the world he could feel.... Aya would need support, and Omi had to be up to the responsibility.
As Aya walked, he basked in the sun and his solitude. No chaperones, no guards. He was himself, male, and away from everyone, out somewhere unknown, and just in time. All of the enforced togetherness had been making him homicidal.
Aya saw Schuldig coming at him at the last minute... and watched him walk right through him and hit a wall. Aya didn’t feel it at all.
Schuldig had found them. It hadn’t taken him long, either.
"Very funny," Schuldig said. Blood was running down the side of his face from a scrape at his temple. He impatiently wiped it away with his fingers.
Aya went into a fighting stance and backed into an empty alley to get them away from bystanders. He didn’t want to have people get in his way. "Actually, that was amusing."
Schuldig followed, not in an attack stance. He hadn’t drawn his gun either. "But you didn’t do it on purpose. Not good."
"It worked out."
"You need help."
"I need to be able to walk around without being attacked."
"I can help."
"True. You can stop attacking me."
"Nah, with training you."
The offer shocked Aya. "You don’t do what I do."
"Certain mental exercises work for all of them. You probably think you’ll turn off your emotions and everything will be fine. Wrong!" Schuldig smirked. "You feel what you feel even when you don’t want to. Trying to clamp down on that would give you less control. It’s what you do with the emotions that counts."
"Why the hell would you ‘help’ me except to fuck me over more?"
"I wanna see if it’s possible to train a talent without abusing the shit of the person who owns it. I got the abuse training and look how I turned out," Schuldig beamed, "but I bet I can do better. Besides, I want to see how you end up."
"So, then, what tips would you give me?"
"Focus. Practice. Try to be clear about what you want. Deluding yourself will bite you in the ass every time by skewing your results. And there’s something you really need to work on."
"What would that be?"
Schuldig backed him up against a wall, and Aya felt himself start to slide through it. "No, you don’t wanna do that," Schuldig said, with his fingers in Aya’s face. He pulled them out. "Huh. I could almost feel something."
Since he didn’t know where he’d end up if he kept going, Aya moved forward and solidified, then shivered and felt the change vertigo as Schuldig’s hand lightly stroked his cheek. He fought to stay himself. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Your entire sexual experience has been as a woman. You might not want to change into one mid-snog."
"That wasn’t the sum total of my sexual experience."
"Oh, sorry, your entire sexual experience that had other people involved has been as a woman. It takes a certain perversity to go out and lose your virginity when you’re not your usual gender. I applaud you."
Lying about his experience level to a telepath would be useless. "You’re going to train me with sex? I don’t need you."
"Sure, you could always try this with someone else. Maybe Kudou has figured out his sexuality and wouldn’t freak out if you became a woman or phased through something in the middle. And I’m sure that Omi would take this as an experiment and you wouldn’t be leading him on for a second."
Actually, Aya thought that maybe he’d just swear off sex. It kept getting him and the people around him in trouble. "I don’t want you."
"Sorry to tell you this, Aya, but since you’re a man again it’s obvious when you want me."
"As you said yourself, feeling and action are different things. My cock doesn’t have a brain. I do."
Schuldig pressed him against the wall and kissed him thoroughly. He smelled so different from Yohji, even despite the mutual stench of cigarette smoke. Yohji smelled of cologne and styling products, civilization. Schuldig’s scent was somehow electric-- a by-product of his telepathy?-- and... wilder. Aya couldn’t describe it better.
Under the press of Schuldig’s body and insistent but gentle mouth and hands, Aya went harder. He hadn’t expected the gentleness and found it disquieting.
"If you miss the coercion, I can go back to that," Schuldig murmured, before nuzzling at his neck.
He didn’t want this. His false woman form had been the one that had no control.
Cocks aligned, they rocked against one another. Even with his eyes closed, it didn’t stop being Schuldig doing this to him. Desperately aroused and bemused by how different it felt in his real form, Aya struggled to keep his thoughts and self together, concentrating so hard that resistance didn’t seem possible. The sensations and Schuldig were so distracting... but so good. He fought the vertigo of the change. Schuldig’s hair, as light and fine as spiderweb, caressed his face. Yohji and Yukio’s hair had been thicker and softer....
"You should do something back, Aya."
Somewhat amused, Aya answered, "That would make this sex instead of a test."
"It’s easier to maintain yourself if all you’re doing is lying back and concentrating with your eyes closed. If you can maintain while working on something else at the same time, then you know you have it."
"Nope, you are."
"I’ve never been transparent. Intangible, but never transparent." But Schuldig had a point, damn him.
At some point Aya had decided to go along with this and risk being killed. He didn’t know when he’d decided that.
Aya opened his eyes to a vividly colored world of Schuldig, since he couldn’t see much around him with him so close, and ran his hands down Schuldig’s back and ass. Schuldig made a soft, deep sound and thrust against him harder, rubbing him against the wall. He came hard at the sharp pain of a bite at the base of his neck where it met his shoulder and lost track of everything in the rush of orgasm.
When he could think again, he noticed that only the wall and Schuldig kept him on his feet. Schuldig stroked the longer hair around his face and said, "You only flickered a few times. Not bad. Meanwhile, I have a new fetish, but where the hell am I going to find the right man-woman for it? You’ve ruined me." Then Schuldig let him go. He slid down the wall to hit the ground on his ass, but at this point he barely felt it. "I suggest lots of practice, Aya." Schuldig kissed his fingers, pressed them to the top of Aya’s head, and walked away.
Dazed, sticky, uncomfortable, buzzing with endorphins, Aya realized that he’d just lost his virginity as a man to his worst enemy in an alley. He really was perverse. Right now, he couldn’t feel upset about it.
That might change later.
Or right now, as the full magnitude of what he’d done and allowed to be done to him hit him. He put his hand over his eyes.
As much as it made him feel ridiculous to do it, Yohji worried, even though Aya hadn’t even been gone long enough to suggest that something had happened to him. Just a few hours.
Aya was a big boy again, and they were in a new city in which they hadn’t been operating in long enough to build up a list of people who wanted them dead. He knew that Aya craved solitude like junkies needed a fix and deserved something comforting after recent events. Hell, Aya had been so obviously desperate for some alone time that they’d all told him to just go, that they could cover the business without him.
Yohji worried anyway. He had a bad feeling about something, and it shivered along his skin. Darkness was falling....
Yohji slipped into the trailer before Ken or Omi could make him help close up for the night. He had more important things on his mind. Lost in thought, he walked into the bunk area and took off his apron.
There, lying on his pillow, was a single orange tiger lily.
Yohji froze, staring at it, then sat down heavily on Aya’s bunk across from his. He fumbled for his cigarettes, lit one, and inhaled deeply. For once the nicotine didn’t relax him; if anything, it made him feel more jittery.
Schuldig had been here, here inside their home, here inside their bedroom. And he knew. Knew what Yohji had been dreaming about, knew how hard he had come just from the thought of being... fucked... by Schuldig.
Probably knew every perverse thought in his head. Was probably listening in right now and laughing his evil ass off.
Yohji’s brain, undisciplined to the last, flashed a series of increasingly graphic images before his eyes, himself and Schuldig in seriously compromising positions. The harder he tried to banish the thoughts, the more persistent they became. The tiger lily loomed stubbornly in his vision, mocking him.
Omi burst in. "Hey, have you seen my-- what are you doing?"
Yohji didn’t answer. Omi said, sounding irritated, "I thought you agreed not to smoke in the bedroom."
"Yeah," Yohji said absently, pinching out the cigarette between his fingers. He barely felt the burn. "Sorry. My bad."
He stood, brushing past Omi and out the door, and a moment later he heard the kid hurrying after him. "Hey, where are you going? Yohji-- Yohji, you shouldn’t go out on your own! We only agreed to let Aya go because he was going crazy. It’s not a good idea to have you both out there wandering around!"
That was a laugh. ‘Going’ crazy? They’d both arrived.
"It doesn’t matter," he said, and was pleased at how offhand his voice sounded. Unconcerned. "Schuldig’s been here."
Yohji stepped into the cool night air and let the door slam shut behind him.
Omi burst outside just as he slid into the driver’s seat. "Yohji! Wait! Let me come with you!"
He turned the key, backed out, and sped off into the night, leaving Omi yelling after him.
Yohji stared grimly at the road in front of him, barely even seeing it. Under his breath, he muttered, "You want me, you bastard, come and get me."
The voice in his head came as no surprise at all. Thought you’d never ask.
A red sports car pulled up behind him and kept pace.
Yohji led it to a well-lit and populated area, then parked and stepped out. It would have been nice if he had a clue to what he intended to do here, but he didn’t. He just wanted it to stop and hoped this little showdown would accomplish something.
Schuldig and Farfarello stepped out of the sports car. Shit. "What’s up with him tagging along?" Yohji asked, hoping that bravado would carry him through.
"Schuldig likes to go riding with me," Farfarello purred.
"I didn’t mean-- Why am I bothering?"
"I ask myself that all the time." Schuldig smiled. "Farfarello got a little curious about my new hobby. I decided to give him the tour."
"I don’t do--"
"Threesomes? I know better."
Schuldig wanted him to get upset and stupid.
‘Get’ stupid? You’re so blind, Kudou.
"Get out of my head."
"Oh, make me. You can’t do shit to me. Look at your crowd here."
Yohji did look. None of them seemed to notice him or the two members of Schwarz in their midst. His half-assed plan to minimize the possibility of carnage had failed.
"I’m a telepath, you moron. They see what I let them see. Everyone around me does. Didn’t you know that you’re defenseless against me? Pay attention. If I wanted, you and Farf would be making sweet, sweet love right now. Oh, he might be willing, he might not-- depends on the day of the week-- but in the end, you’d both do it, just the same."
Yohji stared at Farfarello. Farfarello smiled and darted his tongue out to lap at the end of his stiletto, seemingly unconcerned by his teammate’s implied threats.
"Tonight," Schuldig said, in response to Yohji’s unspoken question, "he seems to be all for it."
"I know," Yohji said, and was pleased to hear the evenness of his voice. He knew. Not that Farfarello was in the mood-- a thought that made him shudder-- but that he couldn’t fight Schuldig, that he never really could.
Schuldig smiled, clearly satisfied by this train of thought. "So what is it you want, Kudou?"
"I want this to end."
"To stop having dreams about--" Schuldig smirked. "Well, we’ll just say ‘men’, for diplomacy’s sake? To keep your vaunted heterosexuality from falling to pieces around you in a blazing wreck like the Fujimiya family home did? To stop thinking that all you really want is to be held down and fucked like a woman? Sorry, you’re on your own there."
Farfarello sniggered. Yohji tried to ignore the hot rush of shame that flooded through him.
"That’s not me," he spat. "You’re doing something to me, making-- making me want it." Making him dream....
Schuldig looked smug. "It’d be nice if that were true, wouldn’t it? So easy to blame me for all your problems. Well, I haven’t touched a thing in your brain. All your fantasies are yours alone. If I were involved, they’d be a lot more interesting." He took a step closer. "Though if you’re up for it, I wouldn’t mind making those dreams a reality."
"It can’t be," Yohji said, ignoring the sudden sick certainty in his gut. "I could never want--"
"Me? Or Aya?" Schuldig rubbed his hands together gleefully. "Aya, me, me, Aya. I can see where you’d have trouble deciding. He’s awfully tempting. But then again-- so am I."
Schuldig smiled. His voice lowered to a purr. "Of course... you don’t have to choose."
Yohji raised his chin defiantly, pushing aside the memory of his dream, ignoring the way that voice slid inside him and made him want things. "Aya would never do it," he said, and he realized too late what it implied-- that he would.
"He wouldn’t, would he?" Schuldig murmured.
"Not anymore," Yohji said, taking a nervous step back. When had Schuldig and Farfarello come so close? When had he turned his back to the wall, instead of the street? "He’s male again, in case you didn’t know, so he’s not vulnerable to you anymore. Sorry if that ruins your plans--"
Almost before the words had left his mouth, he was hit by a mental image so powerful, so vivid, it took his breath away. He had Aya pinned against a wall and was sensuously rubbing against him with his whole body as they kissed hungrily. Panting, hard, Aya had his eyes closed, a flush across his cheeks, and a look of deep concentration and pleasure on his face. Then he opened his eyes, which blazed with lust, lust Yohji could feel along with his own. Aya stroked Yohji’s back and ass, and he answered with a hard bite to Aya’s neck. Aya came, and he came but he wasn’t him, he was Schuldig....
And then he felt his own back pressed against the wall. He closed his eyes, but he couldn’t block out the sensations, the echoing lust, the desperate need and abandon on Aya’s face--
A voice next to his ear whispered, "He’s very accommodating if you don’t change your mind on him right in the middle of it. But you know that. A shame you didn’t follow up on it more than once."
Yohji’s eyes flew open. He stared at Schuldig in dismay.
Distantly he felt a thin, muscled arm slip over his shoulders, and then Farfarello’s low, raspy voice asked, "Can I play too?"
Yohji jerked away instinctively and found himself in Schuldig’s arms. He was sandwiched between them, caught between the two of them and the wall-- a rock and a hard place, he thought wildly, and I know which one’s hard-- with no clear route to safety. Cold fear clenched his stomach into a fist.
He covered with a toss of his head and stepped away deliberately, still with his back to the wall, but this way at least he could watch both of them. "Damn," he said, with a practiced sneer. "You’re just determined to get a threesome tonight, aren’t you?"
The smirk refused to die. "Hey, I’m not the one dreaming about it." Schuldig paused. "Actually--"
"What do you want?" Yohji demanded, his patience snapping.
Schuldig said simply, "This."
It sounded like a setup, but no punch line was forthcoming. Yohji asked warily, "This what?"
Schuldig spread his hands. "This, here. You being so conflicted, so torn up inside, wanting things you know are wrong, yet unable to stop." His eyelids lowered to half-mast, and Yohji felt a shiver run through him as Schuldig’s voice in his head murmured, It’s like a drug.
And as he watched, helpless, Schuldig slid an arm around Farfarello and pulled him close, saying, "Fine. You don’t like Farfie? I can work with that."
And then it wasn’t Farfarello Schuldig was kissing, it was Aya, regular male Aya, and no matter how many times Yohji told himself it was just a trick, just another mind game, the illusion persisted. It was Aya digging his fingers into Schuldig’s back, Aya biting down hard on Schuldig’s lower lip, Aya making Schuldig moan....
They were so close Yohji could feel their body heat. If he inhaled deeply enough he’d be touching them. And then he’d probably join in, and God and Crawford only knew what would happen next.
He tensed, thinking that if he could just get his wire out, he’d end this now, and without warning Schuldig’s hand shot out and caught his wrist in a crushing grip.
Yohji gritted his teeth together as Schuldig pulled away, wiping his mouth with the back of his free hand. Schuldig’s saliva was streaked with blood.
Schuldig said, "He plays rough, but oh, how he plays. Whaddya say, Kudou?"
Yohji stared at Aya-- at Farfarello, he reminded himself. Farfarello watched him dispassionately, licking smears of blood from his lips. Watching him do it with Aya’s face and body, wearing Aya’s clothes, seemed so delightfully obscene....
Mouth dry, he asked, "What if I say no?"
Schuldig shrugged. "Then you go back to your little trailer all alone and live to angst another day. What did you expect? I’m not going to force you to do anything... yet." He smiled, catlike. "Right now, what you choose to do is far more interesting."
Yohji gave the faux Aya one last head-to-toe inspection, drinking in the sight, and then jerked his head towards Farfarello and said, "Get rid of that."
It wasn’t Aya; it didn’t even look like him, really. They were Aya’s features, but Farfarello’s quiet, expressionless menace sat ill on a face made for scowls and bad tempers and frustrated brooding. The real Aya burned with passion, however much he tried to hide it. Even at his lowest ebb, he smoldered. This Aya looked dead inside.
He wondered what this Aya would look like when Farfarello was in a killing rage.
Schuldig snorted. "Scheiße, have you got it bad."
"Shut up," Yohji said, still staring at Farfarello. He thought he saw Ay-- Farfarello’s lips twitch, and then Farfarello’s left eye closed in a wink.
Farfarello didn’t have a left eye.
Yohji blinked, startled, and then the illusion was gone and Farfarello was watching him with detached, almost polite interest.
"Move," Yohji said.
Schuldig stepped aside with a mocking bow. "And he chooses sexual frustration and self-flagellation. Big surprise." He smiled. "You know, of all you Weiß boys, I never figured Aya for the slut of the group. You've lost your ranking, Kudou. How’s it feel to know I got to male and female Aya first? Oh, wait-- don’t bother answering. I know exactly how it feels."
Yohji gritted his teeth as he stepped past them. His back felt unbearably exposed.
Behind him, Schuldig called, "I’ll give him your regards!"
Yohji spun around, whipping the wire out of his watch without conscious forethought, arcing it through the air towards Schuldig. He caught a brief glimpse of Schuldig’s startled face, and then something barreled into his side, knocking him to the ground.
It was Farfarello, of course, and Yohji’s heart leapt into his throat because now Farfarello was in a killing rage, and Yohji knew from experience that without outside intervention, nothing short of death would put him off. Yohji struggled desperately but Farfarello had the upper hand; Farfarello was on top of him, pinning him down, and then he saw a flash of white as Farfarello bared his teeth and dove for Yohji’s jugular--
Yohji threw himself aside at the last second, as much as he could with a full-grown man sitting on top of him, and Farfarello’s teeth sank into his shoulder instead. A blaze of pain shot through his right arm, paralyzing it. Yohji managed to wrap his free hand around his opponent’s throat and squeeze, but Farfarello didn’t even seem to notice; he just continued gnawing happily.
Then, abruptly, Farfarello stopped, and Yohji didn’t hesitate. He threw him off immediately and stood, panting. Blood flowed freely from his shoulder.
Schuldig was watching them with a detached smirk, but for once Yohji could see the act for what it was. Schuldig had called Farfarello off, for whatever reason, but he wasn’t happy about it. In fact, he was seething.
Then Schuldig met his eyes, and the voice in his head growled, A remarkably accurate assessment.
Yohji gazed back levelly. "Go ahead and kill me," he said. "It’s the only way you’ll have me-- over my dead body."
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Farfarello rising to his feet, and he braced himself.
"How clever," Schuldig murmured. The wire had grazed his cheek and blood trickled from a thin, almost elegant-looking cut. He already had a scab along his temple from some recent, earlier injury. Seeing him wounded was unsettling in its rarity. "You run home to Abyssinian, now." He paused. "I’m giving you an opportunity to live. I suggest you take it."
"Why?" Yohji asked, knowing he shouldn’t bother, knowing he should just take his chance and run like hell.
Schuldig shrugged carelessly. The fury seemed to have passed, leaving Schuldig his usual, only semi-deadly self. "No real reason. I just want to see how this ends."
Yohji thought, deliberately loud, I just want it to end.
Heart pounding, aroused and hard, Yohji walked past them at a slow, steady pace, still refusing to run, and felt their stares on his back. He felt their stares even as he drove away. At least he didn’t ‘hear’ Schuldig during his ride home. His mind was jumbled and cluttered enough on its own.
When he walked into the bedroom, he pulled the privacy curtain aside and saw Aya lying in his bunk, peacefully asleep and safe, and flashed on Aya writhing against him/Schuldig in an alley. Not quite safe. After putting the curtain back as it had been, Yohji went into the bathroom and jerked off as roughly and quickly as he could, but he couldn’t outrace the shame.
Aya was a woman again, getting fucked by Yohji, his hands bound together at the wrists and to the headboard by Yohji’s wire. On fire with lust, moaning, he wrapped his legs around Yohji’s waist and pulled him in deeper. That waist changed, and Yukio smiled down at him as she fucked him harder. The wire had disappeared, but he held his hands up and together without it. He closed his eyes and bit his lip. A large hand closed over his wrists. When he opened his eyes he saw Schuldig thrusting into him. The telepath smiled and said, "I always thought you’d be a slut if you got the chance."
Aya awoke in his bunk confused, disquieted, and still male. And lying in a large wet spot. This had to stop eventually or at least taper off. Was it Schuldig or his own evil, slutty mind at work here? Still dreaming of himself as a woman....
He didn’t know anything anymore.
Aya heard movement at the edge of his bunk. Yohji pulled the privacy curtain aside and asked softly, "Could you keep it down? Some of us don’t have good sex dreams or partners to distract us."
"I’m awake now."
"Me too. Wanna take this to the kitchen?"
"You go ahead. I have some things to take care of first." Like the sheets and himself, both wet and reeking of sex.
Aya could almost feel Yohji smirk. "Sure, Aya."
When Aya sat down at the small table, Yohji handed him a cup of tea. He nursed it in silence, lost in wondering what the hell was happening to him, until Yohji finally asked, "What, because we slept together you’re never going to speak to me again?"
"I never spoke to you much before I was a woman. And we never once ‘slept together’."
Yohji took on a long-suffering look and sighed. "You’re so literal."
Aya felt the need to talk and hated it. "Yohji, I’m changing."
"In more ways than you think. It feels... really good to use my abilities. Pleasurable. Even if they do tire me out a bit." They might be responsible for his ridiculously increased sex drive.
Scholar of sex that he was, Yohji seemed to take that thought all the way as well, even without Aya providing the last bit. "Being turned on a lot of the time doesn’t sound bad to me."
Aya wondered if that been why he’d succumbed so easily to Schuldig’s advances but refused to absolve himself of all responsibility. "I’m sure you remember my drunken confession."
Yohji grinned. "Nope. You told me to forget it." Infuriating.
"It’s frustrating and distracting being like this."
"Congratulations, Aya. You’re a guy."
"There are ways to take care of yourself, by yourself and with other people. You’re not ugly, after all."
Yohji had been at once the best and worst person to share this with. Best because he had so much experience with sex and worst because he wouldn’t take this confession seriously.
"I could help you out," Yohji said while trying too hard to look and sound casual.
Aya gaped at him in shock, then answered, "I’m not going to make myself into a woman just for you."
"I hadn’t thought of that." But his eyes lit up.
"Don’t think of it now, because it won’t happen. In fact, none of it will happen, because I don’t like the idea of you doing me as if you were throwing yourself on top of a grenade to save the rest of the team."
"That’s not what I’m thinking."
"What are you thinking?"
Yohji had some ulterior motive. Aya could tell. He sat oddly too, almost scrunched in on himself. As if injured. And Yohji wore a shirt and shorts, when usually he slept as close to naked as he thought his teammates could stand. And Aya wasn’t thinking of Yohji naked or remembering how Yohji would sometimes answer the door naked when they still had separate rooms above the flower shop.
This wasn’t helping.
Aya stood and walked until he was behind him, then lightly put a hand on his shoulder. Yohji gasped in pain. Aya lifted his hand.
"What did you do to yourself?" Aya asked.
Yohji remained silent for a while, then said, "Farfarello fucking bit me."
So all of Schwarz had found them. "Schuldig visited me today." What fetish did Schwarz have about biting people?
Surely Yohji hadn’t been bitten under the same circumstances Aya had.
Yohji looked surprised. "I can’t believe you just came out and said that."
"He did. There’s no point in hiding it. It strikes me that this invalidates our whole reason for being in Kanazawa. I think we should get Kritiker to relocate us back."
Yohji turned to face Aya, still unable to believe that Aya had admitted to seeing Schuldig. Okay, he hadn’t said that Schuldig had put the moves on him, just that he’d appeared, but still.
Aya had been his original self for about two days yet still looked wrong, which was funny since this was how he was supposed to look. Male and all. Harder, more angular. His body filled out a black T-shirt in different ways.
Yohji missed the woman, her voice, presence, and scent. It was like she’d died. Yohji always fell for the impossible women. Aya wasn’t quite the person he’d been before, but neither was he the person he’d become as a woman. It confused the hell out of Yohji and made him wonder if maybe getting in close, sex, might bring traces of her back. Loosen Aya up, make him smile.
"You didn’t answer my offer," Yohji said.
"Yes, I did. I told you that I didn’t want charity. You’ll have to martyr yourself some other way."
Yohji stood and pressed in close, feeling Aya’s warmth all along his front. Aya looked at him with dark, worried eyes. Wanting him but not trusting him.
Yohji didn’t feel any answering lust.
Yohji’s body had responded easily enough to Schuldig but that had been him reacting. Schuldig had pressed up on him with obvious carnal intent, and his body had said ‘hell, yes.’ Aya needed to be pursued and coaxed. It took effort and gave Yohji time to think.
Aya’s expression went blank, and the want died from his eyes, chilling them. "As I thought," he said, and turned away.
That would be it if Yohji didn’t do something now. Schuldig would win, and Aya would lose and be lost. Yohji grabbed Aya’s wrist and swung him in to kiss him before he could react and fight back. Slightly different mouth from hers, but similar kiss. Aya’s movements and clutch were different but also similar. When Yohji ran his hand down Aya’s back, Aya moved in a very familiar way.... Ignition. Yohji’s body did an ‘oh yeah,’ and the lust was right where it should be.
Yohji had stood back with his dick in his hand and his thumb up his ass in indecision and confusion too long, letting Schuldig slide in swift and snake-supple to get there first every time and purr, "Been there, done that, you loser." Damned if Yohji didn’t know the kind of phrases the snake would hiss and purr in Aya’s ears. They don’t understand you and never will. They’re afraid of you. You’re alone and always will be. You’re a freak like me. By the time Schuldig got to Let me stick my hand down your pants, Aya probably figured that he might as well, unable to fight against the confusion, despair, and physical coercion. Yohji knew what a potent weapon that combination made for Schuldig.
With the way Yohji and Aya had been acting around one another, Schuldig barely had to do anything more than stir the pot a little once in a while to get a feast of angst and frustrated lust. Well, the bastard would have to work for his dinner from now on.
"You don’t have to do this," Aya said softly. "Don’t have to prove yourself, don’t have to do this now."
Really? Yohji pulled him in closer, cupped his ass, and kissed harder, more demandingly. Aya groaned.
"Unless you want to...." Aya murmured against his lips.
"Yeah. I want to." Yohji backed him out of the kitchen and to the couch.
When the back of Aya’s legs hit the couch, he asked, "Where are we going?"
"We’re here. I didn’t want to get it on in the kitchen."
"But the bathroom was fine?"
Aya had that familiar ‘I don’t understand you at all and I’m not sure I want to’ look on his face, and it was like coming home. Yohji would do it right this time. For one thing, they’d both be undressed at the same time. Him getting his clothes off for once would be a very good idea. He pulled his shirt off over his head and drank in the concern in Aya’s eyes at the sight of the gauze bandage taped to his shoulder, then he pulled down his shorts and kicked them away. Aya’s eyes flickered down to see, then he looked up at Yohji from under his lashes. Was that flirtation from the ice king? Looked like it.
Yohji went back to kissing him and put one hand up the back of his shirt and the other in his hair. For some reason, he’d expected the hair to feel different now, not as soft or something, but it didn’t, which actually made more sense since Aya had used the same shampoo for the past few years, something tea-scented, even as a woman. But his body had different dimensions, different strengths, and the thought that Aya could hurt him badly did scary things to his lust. They humped one another, and feeling Aya’s hard, covered cock rub against his naked one was a thrill. No way Aya could deny this, not with the evidence right here.
Aya pulled away for a moment to pull his T-shirt off, putting them skin to skin and closer to where they should be. Yohji looked away from the love bite on Aya’s neck, which looked totally unlike the gnaw marks on his own shoulder. Yohji set his mind to other things, like seeing whether Aya still liked to have his nipples played with. Yes, he definitely did, but he seemed to be biting back any sounds of enjoyment.
"C’mon, be as loud as you like," Yohji breathed into his ear.
Aya understandably looked very distracted by Yohji’s fingers pinching his nipples. "Ken and Omi--"
"Not right now."
Yohji hooked a finger into Aya’s waistband and smiled at the deep breath he took in response. "It’s hotter with them close by. Admit it."
"I’m not letting this turn into a foursome."
That made Yohji squirm, but he covered it with a flip "Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it." He pulled the waistband away and then let it snap back against Aya’s hip.
They were both thinking too much. Time to get the next bit over with and go on to the main event. Yohji pulled Aya’s boxers all the way down and took a look.
Nothing he hadn’t seen before in some form. Before he could freak out or Aya could realize that he was freaking out, Yohji pulled him in close again, and feeling Aya hot and wet against his bare skin made everything almost all right again. Aya groaned softly and humped him, which made everything actually all right again. Then Aya tackled him down to the lumpy couch and covered him, which made thinking about wrong and right impossible.
Once Aya had his mouth around Yohji’s cock, any considerations beyond what was going on that moment were blown out of Yohji’s mind. So to speak. The wildness hadn’t just been the woman. The soft red hair brushing his abs and thighs made him shiver. Very strong hands held down Yohji’s hips and stopped him from really fucking Aya’s mouth-- with that strength being a turn-on by itself-- but, hell, he definitely couldn’t complain through an enthusiastic blowjob. Besides, Aya didn’t seem to mind getting his hair pulled.
Aya did something to the underside of Yohji’s cock with his tongue that made Yohji see stars and almost choke Aya with his sudden thrust forward and orgasm. "Fuck, I’m sorry," Yohji gasped through his afterglow. As much as he enjoyed his full-body tingle, he worried about Aya’s coughing.
Aya nodded his head. Yohji had to make it up to him. When Aya recovered more, Yohji kissed him and smiled at the taste of himself on Aya’s lips. He ran his hand down Aya’s stomach and clasped Aya’s hard cock in a firm grip. The angle might be different, but he knew what to do here and wondered if Aya would like it hard and fast, the way he did.
From the way that he gasped, "Yohji...." with such desperation and thrust forward into Yohji’s moving fist, it seemed that Aya did. It amazed him to have the ice king afire with lust, calling his name, and writhing against him.
"Come for me, Aya," Yohji said, and he did, right on command, with a hoarse yell.
Mussed, very touchable, Aya was breathing hard and tangled with him, still rocking a little, looking unlike his usual ice king self. By contrast, Yohji didn’t feel any different than he did after any bout of good sex, which was a bit anticlimactic. He mentally smacked himself around for being disappointed that he hadn’t shattered his self-image or ego with a few homosexual acts.
Aya twitched. "We can’t stay like this." Yet he didn’t move.
"What? Twined together naked, blatantly post-sex, on the couch in the open where even our youngest and most innocent member can see us?"
"I’ll dispute ‘most innocent’, but otherwise that’s a good summary."
"I don’t really feel like moving."
Score! Yohji grabbed his arm to make sure he couldn’t escape. "This is your afterglow. Enjoy it."
This felt too comfy for Aya to ruin it by being responsible, so Yohji reinforced Aya’s urge to stay by lightly stroking his hair and back. At least he hoped it reinforced it. Since Aya didn’t leave, just sighed and settled in, it must have worked.
Feeling very self-satisfied, Yohji drifted off to sleep.
He hadn’t changed mid-sex, he felt great, and Yohji hadn’t freaked out, so this could be counted a success. Having sex as himself with somebody he didn’t loathe had to be a sign of increased mental health. So why did he have such a feeling of foreboding?
Maybe he couldn’t let himself be happy. Maybe life had taught him that people never lasted. Maybe he had no trust left in him.
He should get up, put a blanket over Yohji, and go to his own bunk to spare Omi’s eyes and feelings in the morning, but instead he clutched at Yohji and snuggled in closer.
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 - email@example.com
Viridian5 - Viridian5@aol.com
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The Green Room version 3.0 (Viridian5's fanfiction)