TITLE: Cherry Kisses, Chapter Three of Four
AUTHOR: Rina Garet
PAIRING: Yohji x Aya
RATING: PG so far. Lime, Probably.
SPOILERS: Minor Yohji and Aya spoilers.
DISCLAIMER: Don't own the characters, they Own me.
**************
CHERRY KISSES, CHAPTER THREE
"No. No, no no."
Aya laughed.
Long, and out loud.
He said it again, like some sort of mantra, as if there was something
inexplicably amusing about that string of 'no's.
Yohji had just PATTED him.
Fucking patted him. Like a child or a kitten.
He wouldn't feel better in the morning. He would feel like he did
every morning, except he would probably have to add a hangover to
that.
He licked his lips, moistening his dry mouth, and tasted cherries.
Cherry liquor. What a silly concept.
He laughed again.
He felt Yohji shift behind him, and sat up quickly. Too quickly. A
wave of dizziness washed over him and he wobbled, falling back
against Yohji again. He heard Yohji sigh, felt him shake his head.
"Even if you forget for a little while, Aya, it will always be there
when you're sober."
Aya thought that maybe that was the most intelligent thing he had
ever bothered to hear out of Yohji's mouth. Usually he just got angry
and glared and clenched his fists. Yohji made him so angry! Why was
Yohji even in Weiß? He didn't care about justice, and he wasn't in
it
for the money. So why did he do it?
Aya couldn't figure it out.
Ken fought for justice. To save those children he prized so much. Omi
was raised to do it. He did it for the money. For his sister. So why
did Yohji do it?
Reaching out and holding on to something solid, Aya pulled himself
up, into a sitting position. He turned and looked at Yohji.
Did he have a secret, too? Something he wanted to protect?
"Yohji?"
He felt Yohji shift when he acknowledged that Aya was
talking. "What?"
Aya swallowed. His mouth felt numbed. "If... I tell you a secret.
Will you tell me?"
Yohji looked down at the limp, drunk body in his arms. He would never
have imagined Aya letting himself get like this. And Aya wanted to
tell him something? Wanted to ask him something? That was new. As far
as he knew, Aya didn't care about any of the rest of them farther
than he had to, to work with them. They all had their secrets, and
none of them had ever pressed any of the others to spill.
"Tell you what, Aya?"
"Aya..." Aya murmured softly, his fingers unconsciously going up to
his ear to toy with the earring there. "Aya, Aya, Aya."
Repeating everything three or four times was fun.
Yohji raised an eyebrow and looked back at the drunken redhead, who
looked dazed. "Aya...?"
"Tell me why, Yohji." Aya said, abruptly.
Yohji blinked. Why? Why, what? Damned if Aya wasn't as confusing as
hell!
"Why?"
Aya sighed and closed his eyes. "Why? I asked you first."
Yohji was exasperated. "Why, what?" He was losing his patience, but
reminded himself Aya had never been drunk before, at least, as far as
he knew, and tried to keep from getting angry with his dodgy
questions and strange statements.
"Why..." Aya sighed. He suddenly felt extremely tired. He felt heavy.
Everything felt heavy. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry.
"Why... Yohji, why?"
Yohji didn't know what Aya wanted, didn't know what the question was,
so he simply sat there, and hoped Aya would mutter something that
might help him understand what he wanted. Yohji usually had no
tolerance for drunk men, but Aya seemed an awful lot like a confused
child sitting there, muttering random things, not making much sense.
And of course, Aya had been in HIS room, and gotten drunk off HIS
liquor.
For some reason seeing Aya this messed up worried Yohji. Maybe it was
just unnerving; Straight Arrow Aya, on his floor, drunk as anything.
It felt like the things that once were certain, were now uncertain.
Was nothing set in stone?
No, it probably wasn't.
"Why did you sell your soul, Yohji?"
Another abrupt interrogative question. Yohji sat up straight, and
very still. That was what Aya wanted to know? What a strange question
from the man that never asked questions.For a minute Yohji felt
indignant. What was it any of Aya's business, anyway? It faded
quickly, though. Aya seemed to honestly want to know why.
Yohji sighed, again.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
Aya blinked. "Do you care if I believe you?" his words were slow,
consonants mushed together, his voice was tired, but he was speaking.
"Maybe."
"Then maybe I'll believe you." Aya blinked again, tired eyes boring
into Yohji's. Yohji almost laughed, and shook his head.
"You wouldn't."
"It's not money. It's not justice. What else is there?" Aya's face
was starting to scrunch up slightly in concentration, in his effort
to prounounce his words clearly.
"I get to check out Manx when she brings us missions." Yohji answered
lamely. Aya tried to hit him, but flopped like a dying fish instead,
winding himself up in Yohji's arms again, head resting on the taller
man's shoulder tiredly.
"I don't care, Aya. I just don't care. I died too long ago for any of
it to matter anymore."
Aya sat quietly, wide eyed, until Yohji sighed, leaned back, and
closed his eyes. "You said you had a secret." Yohji said, softly.
"Why I fight..." Aya whispered.
"Money." Yohji thought that was pretty clear.
Aya laughed. He was so good. None of them knew. Not a one. "You think
that... just like everyone else..." he said softly, almost too softly
for Yohji to hear.
Yohji was surprised. Was money NOT Aya's only objective? Maybe Aya
was less one-sided than he thought. Hell, everything else he was sure
of about Aya had been shattered, why not that too?
"What, then?" Yohji didn't know what he expected Aya to say in reply.
"Aya." Aya laughed in reply. "Aya. Everything for Aya."
Yohji thought the redhead was off his rocker.
He didn't press Aya for clarification, and wasn't even sure the guy
would understand him if he asked. He shifted behind Aya, those
drunken violet eyes still focused on him, and moved to try to stand
up. Aya flopped back against the wall and Yohji leand down to help
him stand up.
"You're out of it. You need to get to sleep." Yohji decided letting
Aya crash in his bed would be easier than hauling the drunken redhead
all the way to his own room, and Yohji himself was too tired to do
that even if it had been a better idea.
Aya clenched his fingers around Yohji's arm as though if he let go,
he would fall and not be able to get back up again. Nails dug into
Yohji's flesh, and he winced. Damned if he wasn't going to have
scratch marks in several places in the morning, and he could think of
much more pleasant ways to have received them.
"Ease up, will you! I don't need blood on my floor!" Yohji chided,
and Aya's grip loosened, if only a bit. "Come on now, and go to bed
so I can go to sleep." Yohji took a step toward his bed, but Aya dug
in his heels like a mule and wouldn't budge.
Yohji grunted and wondered what was wrong, NOW. He could stand it a
little more. He just had to get Aya to bed, and then he could sleep.
And in the morning, Aya would be back to normal, only a little worse
for wear.
He slipped his arm behind Aya, against his back, and tried to pull
him along. The stubborn thing wouldn't move. He turned, facing Aya,
irritation clear on his features, ready to ask him what the hell he
planned on doing, and if he was going to just STAND there all night.
Aya stood there, clouded eyes wide and observant, studying Yohji's
face, as though he was seeing something there he needed to figure
out.
Yohji opened his mouth to say something, anything, to break the
uneasy silence. Before a word could pass his lips, Aya half lunged,
half fell forward in a rush of cherry scented air, and kissed him.
Yohji froze, choking on whatever word had been on his lips, breath
catching in his throat, eyes flying open. He jerked away, grabbing
Aya's wrists, holding him at arm's length and looking squarely at
him.
"What was that?"
Stupid question. Rhetorical question. It had been a kiss. All of a
sudden, Yohji felt like a dumb graded school kid that had just gotten
one planted on by some cute little girl with daisies in her hair. Aya
drunk was one thing. Aya drunk and HITTING on him was another. He
blinked, and studied Aya's face.
Aya looked...hurt? His lips were turned down at the corners, and his
face was scrunched up. He made some noise that Yohji might have
identified as a sniffle, and tried to pull his wrist away from
Yohji's grip.
"I slipped."
Sure. If that was true, then Aya had given the phrase 'slip of the
tongue' a whole new meaning. Yohji tugged on Aya's arm. "Come on, go
to bed. You don't know what you're doing."
Aya scowled his adorable drunken scowl as Yohji tugged on his arm. He
refused to move.
With surprising strength, Aya pulled on Yohji's arm, and turned to
press him against the wall, next to the window.
"Don't think that... just because I'm drunk, that I'm stupid, Yohji."
Each syllable was slow, and clear, a phrase in itself, with emphasis
on the last two words-stupid, and Yohji-as if those were the two most
important ones there.
Yohji found himself backed up against a wall, literally, and
confused. Suddenly, the fact that he was shirtless, bothered him.
Maybe, if Aya had ever expressed interest in him before getting
drunk, he wouldn't be so put off. But people did stupid things drunk,
and he didn't want to be the object of Aya's wrath later, if he found
out that Yohji took advantage of him while drunk. Not to mention the
fact of taking advantage of Aya while he was drunk wasn't really
something Yohji wanted to do.
Sure, Yohji had his share of one night stands, but he could always
send them packing in the morning. He'd have to see Aya later, and who
the hell knew how either of them would behave.
Aya backed up a step and nearly fell over backwards, but Yohji caught
him.
"You can't even walk."
"You noticed."
A smile quirked Yohji's lips despite himself. He dragged Aya over to
the bed, and this time, the redhead didn't resist. He sat Aya down,
so he wouldn't fall, and then stood over him, looking down.
Aya was quiet for a minute. Then, when Yohji turned to go, he spoke
up.
"It doesn't have to be real."
Yohji stopped, turned, and looked at Aya, not quite understanding
what he meant. Aya was looking down, talking at the floor.
"You can pretend."
Yohji blinked. Aya stood back up, one arm against the wall to hold
himself up on shaky legs. "You can pretend, if it helps. You can lie
to me, Yohji."
Yohji still wasn't fully understanding what Aya meant, but he had the
feeling that he should. Aya stumbled forward, visibly wobbling, but
keeping himself upright. He blinked, and finally managed to
straighten himself out before talking again, Yohji not moving a
muscle all the while.
For a flickering moment, Yohji didn't know what to do or say.
Too many things were racing through his head. Was this a spur of the
moment thing? Had Aya planned on coming in here and getting drunk, or
had it simply happened? Why had Aya come into his room in the first
place? So many unanswered questions. Yohji was confused.
He closed the distance between himself and the drunken, wobbling
redhead, steadying him with one arm. He took Aya's chin in his hand
and ran his thumb slowly down the smooth cheek, trying to see through
Aya's inebriated violet gaze.
"Why are you here, Aya? What do you want from me?"
Aya closed his eyes, and reached up to cover the hand on his cheek
with his own.
"Lie, Yohji. You lie, and make everyone believe. Make me believe."
Yohji was taken aback by the blunt statement. His gut reaction was to
be offended, and get pissed off, but he thought about it instead.
And he realized Aya was right.
He lied, and made everyone believe.
Women... the other Weiß members...
Himself.
"Tell me..."
"... Aya..."
"Tell me, Yohji." Aya's voice was demanding, forceful. "Tell me that
none of this is real, that I'll wake up tomorrow and everything will
be normal."
Yohji smiled. A slow, sad smile.
That was the one lie he'd never been able to make himself believe.
Aya opened his eyes, saw Yohji's smile. Kissed him again; a soft,
cherry kiss.
Well, maybe he could believe it for just a little while.
******
One more to go! >>;;;;