Balance
By nekojita
This fic follows the storyline introduced in ‘Violet Eyes’ and continued in
‘The Bet’. Reading the first one might help. Story is slightly au, being a mix
of the manga and anime. It follows the first season pretty closely; some things
during the second have/or are going to be changed. Just a little bit. Consider
it a bit more in the order of slight tweaking. Characters aren’t supposed to
be ooc, so if they are, blame me.
Time for more angst, can’t have the boys be too happy. Future chapters will
be bumped up to NC-17, so fair warning.
Disclaimer: No I don’t own them, thanks for reminding of that fact once again.
*******
"The fucking bastard. I should have killed him. Maybe I still will. You
think Kritiker will buy dear little Kenken being offed during the mission?"
Aya looked up from buckling his trench coat, and glared at his lover. Yohji
was standing in front of a mirror, fussing with his hair. It had only been a
couple of days since the infamous purple dye incident, and the blond, well,
mostly blond, wasn’t taking the change very well.
"You finally pushed Hidaka too far, so stop complaining. You want to kill
the man, do it on your own time. Now finish getting ready, we’re supposed to
meet the others downstairs in a few minutes."
Green eyes glared back at violet, then closed so as to enhance a rather melodramatic
sigh. Trust Aya Fujimiya to not get the point. It was about more than a simple
matter of revenge. Ken had deliberately assaulted him in a manner that should
have been sacrosanct. How would the younger assassin feel if Yohji burned his
precious soccer balls and team jerseys? Granted, maybe it hadn’t been the best
idea to slip that container of lubricant into the brunet’s jacket pocket. It
had all started when Omi freaked out upon finding the tube among the couch cushions,
and insisted that Yohji got rid of it. Not feeling the urge to get up in the
middle of watching his show, the older man had stashed the lube in Ken’s jacket,
which had been lying on top of the couch. He really meant to get it out later,
honest. But Aya had come back from visiting his sister, looking so cute with
wind-flushed cheeks and tossled hair, that all thought besides following his
kitten back up to their bedroom had escaped his mind.
Then Ken had grabbed the coat on his way out to spend some time with those brats
of his. How was Yohji to know that it would fall out later that evening, when
the athlete was treating the kids to some ice cream? Or that one of the ankle
biters would pick up the tube and ask, in front of several customers, what it
was. Quite loudly. Apparently one of the brighter brats had picked up on the
strawberry flavor advertised on front, and a fight over who got to put some
on their treats broke out. When everything settled down, a rather embarrassed
Ken was left standing there, looks of disgust directed his way from the older
patrons, trying to figure how the lubricant had ended up in his pocket. It hadn’t
taken long for the assassin to finger a likely suspect. Hence two days later
Yohji stepping out of his shower and finding his honey blond locks dyed purple.
Tired from a night spent doing surveillance for an upcoming mission, the blond
had been too exhausted to notice anything wrong with his shampoo. In fact, it
took several minutes of gazing bleary eyed into the bathroom mirror to figure
out what was different. Yohji had then dashed from the room and down into the
kitchen, intent on killing the perpetrator. It wasn’t hard to figure out the
guilty party, with Ken’s face bursting out in a huge grin before he fled the
room. Only the intervention of Omi, blocking an enraged Yohji’s path, had saved
the soccer fanatic’s life. Aya just sat at the kitchen table during the whole
escapade, quietly sipping his tea as he read his paper. When his boyfriend had
finally calmed somewhat down and put on his clothes, the red head had volunteered
to drive him to a hair saloon. Where the victimized assassin was informed unless
he wanted to damage his precious locks even more, he’d better get used to a
violet tint to his hair for a while.
"Kudoh, stop fussing with your hair and move your ass. Time to focus on
the mission."
Growling as he zippered up his coat, Yohji followed the swordsman out of their
room. In all seriousness, it was more than his poor hair that was bothering
him. That was just a sufficient excuse to drag his feet over and complain about,
instead of the real reason he was upset right now. He wasn’t too happy with
the mission Weiß was about to undertake. It was the first serious job
they’d embarked on since Aya had been injured on the previous one. Kritiker
had limited the group to surveillance and reconnaissance missions while their
field leader had healed. Now, almost a month and a half later, and a week of
intensive intelligence gathering, Weiß was once again ready to take on
the dark beasts of the world. Or at least of outer Tokyo.
"Hey Kitten, how’s the shoulder doing? You sure it’s up to a work out tonight?"
Aya’s response was all but snarled back, as he scowled at Yohji over his shoulder.
"For the umpteenth time, it’s /fine/. Now shut up about it."
"Huh, love you too sweetheart." Did the man have to bite his head
off for being worried about the red head’s safety? Anyone else would have been
touched by a display of concern, but not Aya. Or more likely Abyssinian. Yohji
recognized that icy tone and flat look to violet eyes; his lover was fully immersed
in his assassin personality. Hell, the man would probably cut his hand off if
the blond tried to touch him. Yet another reason to hate this mission. Yohji
wanted his kitten back, preferably snuggled safely in bed with him, not setting
out to kill a bunch of people.
Arriving at the garage, the two men found their roommates waiting for them.
Ken, sitting on his bike, was clearly eager to start the assignment. Omi was
standing next to him, checking his watch. "It’s about time guys.
"Probably busy having pre-mission sex," the brunet mumbled. Catching
the glares sent his way from the older men, he blanched and quickly shoved his
helmet on.
Omi just shook his head as he climbed onto the back of the bike. He would be
riding with Ken to the mission site, while Yohji and Aya went in the swordsman’s
Porsche. "We’ll see you there in forty minutes. By the south entrance."
The youth waved as the bike sped off.
Climbing into the sports car, Yohji wondered if maybe he shouldn’t have bummed
a ride off of Ken. With the way Aya drove, they would be on site within twenty
minutes. The smaller man was mostly silent the whole drive, except for growling
out "don’t even fucking think it," when the green eyed man tried to
light a cigarette.
Stashing the car out of sight and covertly making their way to the rendezvous
point, Yohji felt his apprehension level rise more and more. It wasn’t himself
he was worried about, but Aya. No matter how much the rational part of his brain
told him the swordsman could handle anything he met up with tonight, the possessive
part of him wanted to tie Aya up and leave him in the car. Which would most
likely result in his immediate death at the attempt. Oh yeah, tonight should
be fun, the lanky man thought, suppressing the urge for a nicotine fix.
Aya glanced at his fidgeting teammate. They still had a few minutes before the
others arrived. Weiß was here to stop the production of a compound used
in an addictive new drug. Bombay was to hit the computer system and strip it
of any and all information. Balinese went in as the boy’s backup. He was to
take out the management, and anyone else who got in his way, while Siberian
was to plant explosives at key production points. By the end of the night Kritiker
expected the place to be reduced to rubble and critical information pertaining
to the new drug in their hands.
The team had been staking out the place for a week now, monitoring its activities.
They knew the layout of the place and the guards’ schedules. Weiß was
not always so well prepared for their other missions. Kritiker was placing a
lot of importance on this job, and wanted no mistakes. Aya suspected that this
assignment was why his employers had left the team alone for so long, so they
were well rested and healed. Everybody was focused and eager to do their job
properly tonight. Except for Balinese. The man was a bundle of nerves this evening.
About to hiss a query as to what was bothering the older man, Abyssinian paused,
catching the sound of footsteps. Silently turning around, hand on his katana,
he saw the two younger assassins making their way over to him. "Everybody
ready?" Omi asked.
Nodding his head, Weiß’ leader checked his watch, waiting for the mission
to start. About to give the go ahead signal, he felt a hand tug on his left
eartail. Glancing up, he swatted away Yohji’s hand as he snarled at the man.
"What?"
"Maybe I should take out the head honchos, and you play back-up for the
chibi." Noticing that the playboy was completely serious, Aya squashed
the desire to yell at the man. It wouldn’t do to alert the guards. Luckily,
Omi beat him to it, but in a quieter tone of voice than he’d have used.
"We’ve been over this before, Balinese. Abyssinian is the best choice to
go after the targets. There’s no time now to argue about this." The youth
glared at the taller man when it appeared as if he was ready to disagree. Once
Yohji had snapped his mouth shut, the archer turned to Ken and Aya then nodded
at them. "Okay Siberian, Abyssinian, you’re set to go."
The brunet merely shifted the bundle of explosives on his back and headed off.
Aya spared one last scowl at his boyfriend, and silently followed. Once they
reached the building’s doorway, the red head took the lead. The two remaining
assassins gave their teammates a few minutes to take care of any guards in their
way before they set off to work.
Making their way to the computer room, Yohji and Omi found their path clear
of obstacles. It was obvious that the swordsman had taken this route; they paused
to better hide a guard’s corpse before the ex-detective set about breaking into
the secured room. Giving the area a swift once-over, he stepped away from the
door to let his teammate in.
"I’ll be a while here, Kritiker wants all the files from the system. You
stay out front and make sure no one interrupts me." Omi stared at the man
until he received a nod in reply, and then keyed his com set. "Siberian,
I’m in place. Estimate about twenty minutes before I’m done."
"Affirmative, Bombay. I’ll set the explosives for twenty-five minutes then.
You copy that Abyssinian?" No reply. Omi looked up at a suddenly tense
Yohji.
"Abyssinian, did you hear Siberian? Twenty five minutes before the bombs
go off."
"Hai."
It sounded as if the man was panting. "Anything wrong there?" the
youth asked.
"……. Security is heavier than expected. Should reach the targets soon."
The red head abruptly severed his connection.
Blue eyes met green, mirroring the worry found there. "He’ll be fine, that’s
why he’s handling the targets. I have to get started now." Sparing his
friend one last glance, Omi closed the door behind him and set about cracking
the computer’s security. It was ridiculously easy, just as he had anticipated.
Once in the system, he started downloading files.
Yohji stood outside the door, forcing his body to stay put. Aya would be able
to take care of himself. ‘Just think of all the times he’s charged head first
into a swarm of armed men and was the only one to walk away. For someone who
cares so little for his personal safety, Aya always manages somehow to survive.’
That train of thought really wasn’t helping matters any. Granted, since the
Takatoris’ were dead and gone there shouldn’t be anything to cause the swordsman
to go berserk during battle, but there were a good many other things that could
go wrong. The green eyed man leaned against the wall, trying not to think of
what they were.
Ten minutes later there was a burst of gunfire. Yohji jumped from the wall,
looking towards the direction of the noise. That was where the targets were
supposed to be. "Aya, come in. What’s going on there? Are you alright?"
He was all but shouting into his mouthpiece.
"I’m busy. Targets are down." The man was panting even heavier, and
there were grunts and a shrill scream in the background.
"Abyssinian, I’m on my way." Ken’s voice came over the com.
Tearing a hand through his hair, Yohji promised himself a long conversation
with his lover on how to directly answer questions. There was another staccato
of gunfire. Looking about the deserted hall, he came to an impulsive decision.
"Fuck it." There hadn’t been so much as a hint of anyone in this section
of the warehouse, Omi should be fine. The blond tore off towards the sound of
fighting.
Heading up another level, the blond burst out of the stairwell and straight
into of a melee. Aya was in the middle of it, taking down a cadre of security
guards. Who shouldn’t have been there. No way did their intel count on so many
armed goons being here. The swordsman was bleeding in several places and favoring
his right leg. Spying someone targeting their gun on the red head, Yohji spun
out his wire and wrapped it around the man’s throat. At the same time, Ken came
barreling from the opposite side of the room. Another round of bullets could
be heard, this time coming from downstairs. There was a loud yelp over the communications
headphones.
Claws out and busy tearing into the enemy, Ken helped make short work of the
remaining security. Scowling at his older teammate, he shouted at the playboy
while busy gutting a heavy-set man. "What the hell are you doing here?
You should be watching out for Bombay!"
Ignoring the brunet, Yohji made his way to Aya’s side. The smaller man sent
him an enraged look, and glanced over at Ken. "Siberian, go help Bombay."
The athlete barely paused to finish off another target before racing to the
steps.
It wasn’t long before the two assassins were the only one’s left alive in the
room. Refusing to look at his teammate, Abyssinian limped towards the stairwell,
intent on reaching his friends below. Yohji swiftly followed. "Aya, wait
a minute. Let me check those wounds for you." The green eyed man moved
to place his hand on the other man’s arm. Jerking it out of the way, the red
head shot a look of pure fury towards the taller man, and in glacial tones hissed
out "don’t".
Stunned by the venom in that glance, Yohji dropped his hand. After a moment,
he resumed trailing down the stops after the man. "What was that for? I’m
only trying to help you here. If I hadn’t had come when I did you’d be full
of bullets now." Nothing. It was like talking to a pissed off wall. The
blond knew he’d fucked up in leaving Omi alone like that, but he’d done it to
save his lover’s life. And now the man was blocking him out. "Don’t you
dare ignore me, Aya," he snarled out, grabbing for the smaller man’s hand.
Distracted by the older man’s antics, the red head failed to notice a guard
waiting outside the stairwell until almost too late.
Seeing a glint of metal, Aya shoved Yohji back towards the stairs as the gun
went off. Feeling something graze his side, he brought his katana down on the
hand holding the weapon. Chopping off the limb, he brought the blade back up
and across the man’s throat. Staggering against the wall from the force of the
swing, he checked the new wound. It felt as if the bullet hit a rib, but nothing
else. Teeth biting into lips from the pain, he limped down to where the younger
members of Weiß were. Several bodies were strewn outside the door.
Looking into the room, he found Ken bandaging Omi’s right arm. Some cloth was
already wrapped against the youth’s forehead. Computers were scattered about
the floor, broken with smoke rising from them. Both men glanced up at his entrance,
weapons ready, and relaxed upon recognizing him. Sensing Yohji come up behind
him, Aya stepped into the room.
"Siberian, how much time to we have left?"
"About five more minutes."
"Hn." Aya gazed down at the wounded teenager. "You alright?"
Omi made to nod his head, but hissed in pain at the movement. "Yeah. The
arm needs some stitches. They burst in on me during the download, so I didn’t
manage to get all the information." Realizing that his leader was listing
to the side, blue eyes narrowed with concern. "How about you?"
The red head just grunted. Gazing down at the smaller man, Yohji wrapped an
arm around his waist. Aya stumbled away, violet eyes blazing with rage. "Let’s
go. /Now/." The last part was added for the older blond’s benefit, as he
stood there looking upset and beginning to get angry.
"Stop being such an asshole." Once again placing his arm around the
slender waist, he refused to allow his lover shake it off. Body tense with resentment,
Aya let himself be assisted out of the building and over to where his car was
parked.
Pulling away from the taller man, he dug his keys out of a coat pocket. "Bombay,
get in the car. You’re in no condition to ride on the back of a bike."
The youth didn’t argue, and Ken helped him into the car. Aya turned to Yohji,
face impassive. "You’ll stay with Ken, and make sure we aren’t followed
and that the explosives go as planned. I need to get Omi home and patch up his
arm."
"What the hell about you? Do you really think you’re okay to drive?"
The blond made to brush back sweat soaked crimson bangs, only to have his hand
smacked away. Aya bit down on the inside of his mouth, trying to stifle the
grunt of pain from that movement. Yohji’s lips tightened in anger as he watched
his lover settle himself behind the wheel, face even paler due to the pain.
Eyes following the car until it vanished from sight, he sighed and turned to
Ken. "Moody bastard," was muttered under his breath as he lit a cigarette.
Yohji didn’t even see the fist that came at his face and knocked the cigarette
from his mouth. "What the hell was that for, you almost hit me!" He
glared at the younger man, only to meet brown eyes narrowed in a glower that
would do Aya proud.
"Kudoh, just shut up right now. I really don’t want to hear anything from
you." It was a pair of green eyes that looked away first; as the older
man bent down to retrieve his smoke. He straightened up just in time as the
ground shook from the force of the explosion tearing apart the warehouse.
Neither man noticed a figure in the distance, watching them.
*******
It was a quiet ride home. Considering that the car was occupied by two bleeding
young men and filled with weapons, Aya forced himself to not abuse the speed
limit too much. He was also having problems driving steady, due to pain and
blood lose. Omi was curled up in his seat, clutching his wounded arm. Heaving
a sigh of relief upon safely arriving home, Aya ushered the young blond upstairs
and to their bathroom. Reaching into the linen closet, he pulled out an impressive
first aid kit.
"Aya-kun, let me look at you first. You seem to be bleeding pretty bad."
"Hn." The red head just pushed the teenager back down on the toilet,
and started cutting of the soaked bandage on his arm. Realizing that the man
was going to be stubborn, and the sooner Omi got patched up the sooner he could
return the favor, the youth removed his jackets.
"Oh, that doesn’t look good." No wonder his arm hurt so much. Aya’s
lips pressed into a thin line as he set about cleaning the wound. Noticing how
white Omi’s face had become, he paused. "Do you want some pain killers
now? What about your head?"
"I don’t think it’s concussed, just hit with some flying glass. The arm
hurts pretty bad though, I think I better take a couple pills now." He
hated the thought of being doped up, but wouldn’t be of any assistance if he
passed out from the pain. Swallowing the pills, he glanced up at his teammate.
The red head was waiting for the medication to kick in before he resumed doctoring.
Reflecting on how angry the swordsman had been at Balinese earlier, Omi patted
a slender hand. "You’re really mad at Yohji-kun, aren’t you?" Violet
eyes flashed up, and then refocused back on the wounded arm.
"What are you going to tell Kritiker?" The deep voice was very quiet.
Omi understood what the swordsman was asking. Their employers were going to
be very upset about the loss of data, and looking for someone to blame. "I’ve
been thinking about that. I can always tell them that I ordered Yohji to help
you, since Ken was too far away. There’s no reason for them not to believe me."
That sentence got Aya’s attention. Once more staring intently into wide blue
eyes, the quiet man frowned in disbelief. "You haven’t told them about
Kudoh and I yet, have you?"
Omi offered the man a weak smile. "No, not yet. I was waiting to see how
the first few missions went. I was hoping everything would go well, so Kritiker
wouldn’t have anything to worry about." The smile grew bitter, as both
men reflected on the fact that tonight went anything but well.
Gaze still locked on the younger man, Aya debated asking the next question.
He knew Omi did some snooping inside Kritiker’s databases without clearance,
and knew much more about that organization and Weiß than he should. "Do
you think they suspect anything?"
Omi went to shake his head, but remembered his injury in time. "I don’t
think so. Nothing’s been commented on, at least. But it’s only a matter of time,
especially after tonight."
"The fucking idiot". Omi couldn’t say anything to that, Yohji had
been spectacularly stupid to allow his emotions to mess up the assignment the
way he did. Kritiker didn’t take kindly to those types of things. If there was
a problem or a distraction within a team, the organization would just remove
the troublesome element and replace it with something else. In Weiß’ case,
that meant one or two new members. Yohji and Aya would be split up, and in all
probability never allowed to see each other again.
Aya was thinking similar thoughts. He was so angry with the playboy, he could
hardly concentrate on his task. What the hell had possessed the moron to deviate
from the mission plan like that? The red head would much rather have risked
a gunshot wound or two than to have his lover screw up the assignment the way
he had. Nevermind the fact that the older man obviously didn’t believe Aya could
take care of himself, but he had jeopardized both of their lives with his actions.
Not to mention Omi’s and Ken’s. Add to that what their employers could do to
them for the failure, and it had been sheer stupidity all around.
It wasn’t possible for Aya to quit Weiß at this point. He had tried once,
and returned for the money and protection Aya-chan needed. The swordsman had
made many enemies all too willing to strike at him through his defenseless sister.
Kritiker literally had him by the balls because of this fact, and wouldn’t hesitate
to use his precious imouto against him if he tried to leave again. He suspected
the only reason he’d been able to leave before was the fact that with Persia
dead, the organization had been in too much disarray to deal with a lone assassin.
As soon as they’d regained control though, his former employers had sent Botan
and Birman to fetch him back.
If Kritiker forced him to choose between his only surviving family member and
his lover, Aya-chan would win out, without a doubt. Didn’t Yohji understand
this? He’d already sacrificed too much to let her go. If there was any hope
for their relationship, they had to develop a balance between Weiß and
their personal lives. The one couldn’t interfere with the other. But considering
tonight’s disaster, Kritiker could rightly assume that the necessary balance
wasn’t attainable, and steps would be taken to correct the situation if things
continued to be messed up.
Shaking the depressing thoughts from his mind, he noticed that Omi’s blue eyes
had a slightly dilated appearance. The painkillers must be kicking in. He quickly
finished cleaning the wound. "I need you to hold still, this is going to
require some stitches." The blond only closed his eyes and braced his arm
in response.
Ten minutes later, the arm was finished. The red head was by no means a skilled
surgeon, but the past couple of years had taught him enough medical knowledge
that he could do a pretty decent job of sewing a body back up. Bandaging the
wound, he moved on to Omi’s forehead. As the boy had commented, it was mainly
just cuts from flying debris, and mostly needed cleaning. Two of the cuts required
a couple stitches each, just to keep them from re-opening. Omi’s bangs should
cover the head wounds nicely, but the blond was not going to be able to use
his arm for much the next few days. He tapped the youth on the shoulder to let
him know he was finished.
"It’s your turn, Aya-kun. Out of the jacket, right now." Aya had been
hoping to tend to himself, but Omi’s eyes glittered with determination. Sighing,
the older man commenced unbuckling his coat. He had to pause at one point, weak
from the pain as blood-caked cloth tore away from several wounds. His coat would
need a professional cleaning, and some mending.
Omi hissed in sympathy at the injuries and clothes saturated in blood. "Aya!
You should have let me dealt with these first. You’ve lost a lot of blood. Get
out of those clothes now." The youth tried not to wince at the sound of
soaked cloth smacking onto the floor.
There was a bullet wound to the leg, which Aya had tied off before but was once
again bleeding freely now. That required a painful cleaning and several stitches.
As did the bullet wound to the man’s left side, which had cracked two ribs.
The rest were grazes from bullets or knife cuts. The red head sat on the edge
of the tub, clad only in his boxers, as Omi patched him up. Since it was just
the two of them at home, Aya wanted to have his wits somewhat about him. He
only took half of the pain medication that the youth handed to him. Omi hadn’t
been happy about it, but understood the logic behind it.
The teenager was finishing up the job when the rest of Weiß returned.
Yohji came barging into the bathroom, searching for his red head. He stopped
at the sight of the bloody outfit on the floor and the amount of bandages covering
flesh almost as white. He stood there in silence until Omi was done. Noting
the icy violet glare directed at him, the older man decided to wait until they
were alone to get into it with his lover. "How you feeling, chibi?"
Hearing the soft, worried tone, Omi managed a half smile at the tall blond.
He knew that Yohji hadn’t meant for him to get hurt, but the man had complicated
all their lives quite a bit with his actions tonight. "I’ve been better,
Yohji," upon seeing the man’s crestfallen face, he decided to add "but
then again I’ve been worse. I’ll live."
Standing upright with extra care, due to the medication and exhaustion, Omi
started to gather up the first aid supplies. Yohji moved to help him. "Let
me take care of that, why don’t you just go to bed. I’ll be sure to call your
school and let them know you’re going to be sick the next couple of days.
The youth blinked at the other man. "There’s no need for that, I can make
it to school in the morning. Besides, I have a paper to turn in."
Yohji snorted. "Kiddo, you can barely stand on two feet, and you want to
go to school? Just take it easy. One of us will drop the paper off if it’s that
important to you."
Omi glanced over at Aya, looking for some help. Noticing the beseeching blue
eyes, Aya turned to disagree with the older man. "Omi can go to school
tomorrow if he feels up to it." That earned a glower at the younger men
from Yohji. "But no working in the shop for the next few shifts, understand?"
The youth smiled gratefully at the swordsman. Trust Aya to know how important
school was for him. Just as the quiet man was worried over how Kritiker would
respond to his relationship with a fellow teammate, Omi was anxious about being
allowed to continue with his education. Without Persia to protect him anymore,
he realized that if the schoolwork interfered with his real job, the order would
come down for him to drop out. At least he could count on Manx and his friends
to try and prevent that from happening.
Once again sapphire eyes met violet. "I’m going to turn in the mission
report, and then go to sleep. Why don’t you two get some rest as well."
Aya watched the teenager leave, and then bent down to retrieve his work outfit.
Or tried to, anyhow. Being a bit stiff and very sore, he couldn’t manage the
task before Yohji reached down and grabbed the stuff away from him. Grimacing
from the feel of the clothes, soaked with clotting blood, Yohji graced the smaller
man with a stern gaze. "I’ll clean up in here, you go to bed." Not
about to argue over a quick escape, Aya just limped out the door.
After wiping up the blood and throwing the red head’s clothes in the washer
(except for the coat, which would be turned over to Manx for cleaning and repair),
Yohji went back upstairs. Not surprised to find his bedroom empty, he walked
down the hall to Aya’s room. Without bothering to knock, he entered inside to
find the smaller man in the process of getting dressed as if he planned to go
out. "Where the hell do you think you are going?"
"Out."
"Really? Here I thought you wore jeans and sweaters to bed all the time.
Why the hell are you going out? You need to get into bed before you collapse.
And don’t even think of arguing with me, I just wiped several pints of your
blood off the bathroom floor."
The man just finished getting dressed. Picking up his jacket, he walked over
to the door. Which Yohji was standing right in front of. "Out of my way,
Kudoh."
Great. Aya was still pissed off at him. "No. And if you think you can take
me in your condition, you’re even crazier than I give you credit for."
"Fine." The red head walked over to the window and proceeded to open
it.
"You really are fucking nuts!" Yohji grabbed a slim wrist and yanked
the smaller man away from the window. He didn’t notice the other hand spin around
and clout him on the side of the head. Startled by the blow, he let go of Aya’s
wrist, and the red head rushed for the door. Or tried to at least. Do to his
leg wound he couldn’t make it in time before an enraged blond gripped him around
the waist and threw him on the bed. Gasping in pain, Aya just laid there as
Yohji sat on his stomach and held his hands down on the bed.
"Alright lover, you’re mad at me, and now I’m not real fucking happy with
you. So I screwed up tonight. I’m sorry. There, I apologized. Are you pleased
now? Nevermind the fact that I probably saved your life tonight, fuck no, you
have to be in a shitty mood about it. World can’t go round unless Aya Fujimiya
is pissed as all hell over something."
"Something?" Did the baka have no fucking clue what he’d done? "Are
you seriously telling me you don’t know what the hell you did wrong tonight?"
The blond just frowned down at the red head.
"First off you make it pretty damn clear that you don’t trust me to take
care of myself, let alone my assignment. Did you honestly think I’d be happy
about that little fact?" Before the older man could once again babble on
about rescuing him, Aya decided to fill him in on how aware he’d been about
his situation. "I saw that asshole with the gun, and was keeping someone
between me and him until backup arrived. Which would have been Ken, two seconds
after you showed up. I’ve been in worse circumstances before, and you never
gave a damn then. What do you think, just because I let you fuck me I can’t
protect myself anymore? That I need Yohji Kudoh to keep me safe from harm? If
you seriously think that, then this whole relationship is over /as of now/.
I refuse to have a lover who won’t treat me as an equal." The mere thought
of how little faith the older man had placed in him made the red head furious.
His lover doubting him was something Aya didn’t need, he did that enough himself.
He was quite serious about the threat, no matter how much the possibility of
breaking up hurt.
It looked as Yohji was going to say something. Aya didn’t give him a chance.
"But all this is probably a moot point by now. What the hell do you think
Kritiker is going to do when they find out Weiß isn’t as effective anymore
thanks to one of their assassins thinking with his dick rather than his brain?
You imagine they’re just going to let me sit out missions so your caveman sensibilities
can be appeased? Or let you keep fucking up the jobs from now on because you
don’t trust me to watch out for myself?" It was clear from the stunned
look on the man’s face that Yohji hadn’t factored Kritiker’s role in their relationship.
"And what about Omi and Ken? How can they trust you to protect their backs
when you’re too busy worrying about me? You keep going on about how I could
have been hurt earlier. What about Omi?" Guilty silence met this last remark.
"You nearly got him killed, disappearing on him like that." The pain
of his wounds forgotten in his fury, Aya tensed his body, ready to throw Yohji
off him the first chance he got. He was so upset at the older man he just wanted
to be out of his presence, and given time to try to get his emotions under control.
Yohji kept opening his mouth, but nothing came out. He’d never stopped to think
about anything but keeping his lover safe. Not about the others, or how his
bosses would react when they found out the job wasn’t successful. All because
of the way he’d reacted. ‘You really screwed up big time, Kudoh.’ And now Aya
was threatening to leave him over the way he’d acted. Gods, that didn’t even
bare thinking about. What he would do if the man ended their relationship. Or
if Kritiker sent Aya to a new team. Hell, he’d didn’t know what was worse, to
lose him to another group or see him every day, knowing what he’d thrown away
through stupidity. Not knowing how to get himself out of this mess, the blond
bent down, intent on making the red head respond to him. To make him feel something
other than anger and contempt.
When the pale man twisted his head to the side, hissing in anger, Yohji focused
his attention on the man’s exposed neck. This tactic had worked before, it /had/
to work now. Mouth and lips caressing tender skin, reveling in the way the smaller
man tasted, the blond let his weight rest more heavily on the swordsman. It
felt so damn good to have that lithe body under his. There was no way in hell
he was letting the man leave him. Shifting about to so he could grind his tumescent
erection against Aya, he heard the younger man gasp out loud. If possible, Aya’s
body became even tenser under his. Glancing up, he noticed his lover’s blanched
face, and the blood spilling from a bitten lip. Oh shit. Aya’s wounds.
Rolling swiftly off of the injured man, Yohji stroked back red hair as he apologized
over and over. "Sorry, so sorry Kitten. Shit. Sorry, I forgot all about
you being hurt. Look at me, baby, tell me you’re okay. I’m so sorry. Please
lover, just look at me."
Aya just laid there for a moment, eyes closed and trying to breathe through
the burning sensation that spread over his left side and chest. It had hurt
so fucking much when Yohji had leaned against his wounded ribs. Which he had
gotten because of the stupid man. Anger returning to help banish the pain, just
a little bit, the red head found himself able to sit up. Pushing aside the older
man’s fussing hand, Aya gazed back at a concerned countenance. An equal mixture
of pain, anger and exhaustion swirling inside darkened violet eyes, the slender
man slowly levered himself off the bed. "I’m going out for a while. If
you want me to forgive you, just…" pausing to try and clear his head of
conflicting emotions as much as the hurt expression on Yohji’s face, Aya rubbed
the bridge of his nose. "Just leave me alone for a bit." He headed
for the door, each step a painful jarring of his body, and closed it behind
him. There was an all-night café a block over that he could go to, try
to sort things out over several pots of tea. What he was going to do about him
and Yohji, and about Kritiker. If he thought for one moment he had the strength
to drive to the hospital and sneak in without passing out, he’d visit his sister.
As it was, he would be pressing his luck with the café. It was just that
he had to get out of the same house Yohji was in, before he or the blond did
something that they would regret for a long time to come. If that hadn’t already
happened.
Yohji watched his lover limp out of the room, plainly ready to collapse. Forcing
himself to remain on the bed and not chase after the man, the blond tugged the
comforter over his cold body. The scent of his lover filling his senses, the
blond wracked his brain trying to find a solution to patch things up with the
younger man.
*******
Whistling to himself as he entered the office, hands deep in pants pockets,
Schuldich walked over to the front of large desk. Increasing the volume of the
music, he smirked when the dark haired American looked up from some paperwork
to glare at him. "Well?" Crawford snapped out.
"You mean you don’t know, Bradley?" The German’s smirk was evident
in the tone of his voice.
"Don’t call me that. Just tell me what happened tonight."
Sitting down on top of the desk, the red haired telepath messed around with
the piles of paper covering the furniture. "The kittens survived, although
two were a bit battered in the process. Guess you tipping off Teshi about being
paid a surprise visit made Weiß’s job a little difficult tonight. Not
that Teshi and his gang got out alive. Building was reduced to rubble."
"So Weiß pulled off the mission after all?" The American’s voice
was flat, not at all a questioning tone.
"Really Bra…" evil glare "ah Crawford, why do you bother with
this little routine all the time?" Cold blue eyes glared at the telepath
from behind wire-rimmed glasses. "Very well, yes Weiß pulled off
the mission. Or at least part of it. They destroyed the plant and everyone inside
of it, but I sensed they weren’t happy about something. Too far away to pick
it from their minds without alerting them to my presence. Which you most strictly
told me not to do."
"Hm." It figures that the one time the annoying man followed his instructions
to the letter, it would be now. Not that the precog needed any more information.
Schuldich confirmed what his vision had shown him. Weiß hurt and thrown
off balance. That would help Schwarz in the upcoming weeks.
<Mind telling me what tonight was about?>
"It’s simple, just causing our little friends some trouble. We don’t want
them at their best in the coming future. Did you notice anything else about
them tonight?"
<Everyone was angry with Balinese for some reason. Especially Abyssinian.
Why didn’t you want me to scan them?>
"You’ll find out shortly enough. Now leave me alone, I have work to do."
"You know what they say, Crawford, about all work and no play." Quickly
shuffling the papers about, the telepath jumped from the desk, waving off the
glower his teammate sent after him. ‘Bradley’s hiding something. I think I need
to check up on the kittens, and see what they have been up too. Abyssinian in
particular.’ It had been so exhilarating, feeling the burning rage filling the
swordsman, even from such a distance. All that anger, mixed with pain and the
ever-present guilt and self-doubt. Such a delicious stew, bubbling away in that
pretty head. He really had left his kätzchen alone too long.
Watching the German stroll out of the room, Crawford massaged his temples, trying
to make a headache go away. It was only a matter of time before the telepath
found out what the two Weiß had been doing. That moment was going to make
his job all the more difficult, trying to reign the man in. Although it would
help to un-balance the white knights all the more.