title: cherry kisses, chapter one 2/?
author: rina garet
rating: PG -13 at the most >> might change later.
pairing: yohji x aya
spoilers: probly
disclaimer: they aren't mine >>
CHERRY KISSES, CHAPTER ONE
Well, hell, that date had sucked.
Yohji wasn't used to bad dates, and this one was irking the hell out
of him. Some resentful girl had gone out with him to make her old
boyfriend jealous, and halfway through the date the idiot had shown
up, and she'd gone off with him.
Yohji was NOT used to bad dates.
Yohji didn't have bad dates. It was against his nature. It was
against all his rules.
Well damn, this had been a bad date.
He was going to get drunk when he got in. Very, very drunk.
He sighed and walked up the stairs, and into his room, throwing his
jacket aside on the floor, not caring that it wasn't hung up. He
wandered over to his bed, pulling off his shirt and tossing that
aside as well. He reached for the light and clicked it on, turning to
his table for the bottle of liquor he knew would be there.
It wasn't. He blinked and turned, and saw something he'd never
expected to see in his room.
Aya, against the window, slumped on the floor with his head in his
hands, an empty bottle lying next to him.
Yohji blinked, making sure he wasn't seeing things.
Aya.
In HIS room.
With an empty liquor bottle.
Where the hell was Rod Serling when you needed him?
If the empty bottle hadn't been there, Yohji might have thought that
Aya had somehow been hurt. Then again, he wasn't sure if this worried
him more than Aya being injured. As far as he knew, Aya didn't drink.
Aya didn't do ANYTHING. He was just some cold bastard martyr.
"Aya?"
He tried the safe route first. Calling his name, but not touching
him. He knew Aya didn't like people touching him. He'd gotten a fist
to the gut several times for it in the past.
Aya looked up at him like a lost puppy.
His violet eyes were big and wide, and glazed over like a deer caught
in headlights.
"Aya." Yohji called again, and Aya blinked.
"Aya..." the redhead whispered softly in reply. Yohji caught the very
strong scent of cherries and alcohol from Aya's direction, even
though he wasn't terribly close to him yet. "Aya's not here..."
Yohji leaned down and picked up the empty bottle, setting it on the
table in the center of his room. There he found the discarded cap.
Damn, Aya'd come into his room and gotten drunk? And he hadn't even
been there to witness.
So what the hell could have happened for Aya to go berserk like this?
Yohji sighed and turned back to Aya. So much for himself getting
drunk tonight. He looked at the empty bottle longingly. Well, he had
something more important to deal with right now.
Aya was still looking at him blankly, eyes glazed. He blinked and
covered his eyes, trying to look at Yohji. "Light... no more
light..." He said softly. Yohji looked confused for a minute, and
then realized Aya was looking over at the lamp in the corner of the
room, and went to turn it off.
"What's going on, Aya?" He said from across the room. "Did something
happen?"
Aya leaned back against the window and his lips curved into something
that more closely resembled a smile than anything Yohji had ever seen
on his face before. A bit of light streamed in throught the window
behind the redhead, illuminating his high cheekbones and sharp chin.
Yohji made his way back over to Aya, wary of what the man might do if
he got too close. Aya could be volatile, and Yohji had no idea of
what Aya might be like if all his inhibitions were gone. Although
right now, he didn't seem incredibly dangerous, that didn't mean much.
He knelt in front of Aya, by the window. "Yo, Aya. Tell me what's
up." Yohji'd seen enough drunk people to know how to deal with them.
Hell, he'd been there himself enough times at that.
"Yohji." Aya blinked again. He seemed to be doing an awful lot of
blinking, as if his eyes couldn't seem to adjust quite right. His
speech was incredibly slow, but clear enough to understand. He must
have been slowing everything down with extra effort to speak clearly.
"What?" Yohji humored him.
"What are you doing in my room?" Aya sounded genuinely puzzled. Yohji
chuckled softly.
"You're in my room, pretty boy." Yohji broke it to him. Aya scowled.
Yohji decided that a drunken Aya, scowling, was insanely cute.
"I don't go in your room," Aya protested.
"Aa. You don't drink either, but you're drunk."
"No."
"Then why do you smell like alcohol?"
"I'm in your room."
Touche, Yohji thought. At least he was with it enough to still have
some semblance of intelligent thinking left to him. "You said you
don't go in my room."
"I forgot."
"How long have you been sitting in here, Aya?" Yohji tried again to
get some info out of him.
"When did you get home?" Aya skirted the question.
"Just now."
"Then... since before that."
Alright that decided it. Aya was drunk off his ass.
"Aya, are you going to tell me what happened, or should I just leave
you alone sitting here by the window all night?"
Aya blinked, and something flashed in his eyes. "No."
"No, what?"
"No."
Yohji reached out and grabbed Aya's shoulder, and took hold of Aya's
chin with his other hand. He shook him gently. He wasn't making any
sense. "Aya, talk to me, guy, ok?"
Aya shrank back and flinched when Yohji grabbed him, and it seemed
like he tried to pull away, but simply couldn't find the strength to
do it. His arm flopped a little, and his eyes narrowed. Yohji didn't
back off or let go, and Aya slumped forward slightly against him, and
whispered again.
"No."
"No, to what, Aya?" Yohji kept his voice even, and tried to pry
something, anything out of Aya that might help him figure out why the
hell he was here, in Yohji's room at this hour, dead drunk.
"Everything... No."
"Why did you get drunk, Aya?" Yohji went right for the throat,
figuring that subtleties wouldn't make it past the intoxicated haze
that coated Aya's mind.
"Why do you get drunk, Yohji?" Aya echoed. Yohji sighed in a bit of
exasperation. It was hard to believe, but Aya was even more difficult
drunk than he was sober. Yohji tipped Aya's head up to look at him,
to try to get him to talk. Cherried, alcohol-scented breath invaded
Yohji's nostrils as Aya's head lolled heavily back in his hands.
"I'm not the one drunk right now, Aya."
"Sorry," Aya suddenly blurted out.
It was Yohji's turn to blink. He let his grip on Aya go, and the
redhead slumped forward against him more. Yohji was suddenly aware of
the fact that he'd taken off his shirt when he'd come in, when he
felt something warm and wet on his skin.
What the hell had Aya in such a mess tonight? Was he CRYING?
Yohji wasn't completely sure how to react. Even if Aya hadn't been
male, Yohji rarely had to deal with crying women, and wasn't sure
what he was supposed to do.
"Look Aya, let's get you in your room and we can worry about this
later, okay?" Yohji tried to lean back to stand up, but Aya clenched
his fist and clawed his fingernails into Yohji's shoulder. Yohji
winced and grunted in pain.
"Damn, Aya, that hurt!" He wasn't sure if he was bleeding or not.
"Forget, Yohji."
Yohji was puzzled. "Huh?"
"To forget. Drink to forget. That's what you do, isn't it?" He
sounded like a child, asking a question he didn't quite understand.
"Listen, Aya, you don't want to be like me." Yohji said softly,
changing his grip on Aya and settling back on the floor with him.
"Want... to forget."
"Forget what?"
"Forget... everything, Yohji."
Yohji wasn't sure what to say. He didn't know what Aya might want to
forget, and he wasn't one to pry. Hell, Aya had already opened up to
him more than ever before. And he definitely didn't want to make Aya
say something that would have him pissed off at Yohji for in the
morning.
Aya was quiet for a while, and Yohji thought he might have fallen
asleep. He went to nudge the redhead, to check to make sure he was
alright, and Aya started to speak again.
"Forget. Her... you. Don't want to see it anymore... whenever I close
my eyes... Hear her... Can't... get close. Don't want to touch...
don't touch..."
Aya's eyes snapped open and he looked at Yohji in an expression of
abject fear. "Don't touch me!" he growled, and sat up shakily,
pushing at Yohji. "Get off!"
Yohji pulled back in surprise, taken aback. "You fell on ME, Aya."
Aya curled up on himself, pressed back against the window again.
Yohji almost reached to touch him again, but decided that it would be
a bad idea. He stood up and looked down at Aya, shivering on the
floor. He turned to get the blanket from his bed. If Aya was going to
sit on the floor all night, Yohji wasn't going to be responsible for
Aya getting sick from sitting near the drafty window with no blanket
all night.
He'd only been turned a moment when car tires screeched outside his
window. It didn't startle him, he was used to the sounds of the city.
But Aya screamed.
Yohji whirled back around, and Aya's eyes were wide with fear. He was
whispering to himself, hugging himself, and all Yohji could make out,
was the world 'No.'
Seeing Aya like that was enough to scare Yohji, as well. He ripped
the blanket off his bed and set himself down on the floor next to
Aya. He tried to put the blanket around the shivering redhead, but
Aya fought him. Yohji pressed him hard against the window and growled
at him.
"Don't make me call Ken and Omi in here to see you like this!" Aya's
struggling slowed, and finally stopped, and he fell near-catatonic in
Yohji's arms. Yohji draped the blanket over him, and sat there in the
quiet darkness, listening to Aya's harsh breathing.
Aya lay against Yohji, unable to close his eyes, but still, and limp.
"Jesus, Aya, don't scare me like that." Yohji said quietly, in a
slightly reprimanding tone.
"Sorry..." Aya said, expressionlessly.
Yohji patted the side of Aya's head affectionately. He wasn't sure
why, it just felt like something he should do. "You'll feel better in
the morning."
Aya smiled, a bitter smile. A sad, bitter smile.
"No."
** TBC!