Elsewhere (Possession III) by paxnirvana
Rating: NC-17 Fandom: Weiß Kreuz Characters: Yohji x Aya, Ken Date Completed: 8/30/02 Archive: Please ask first.
Author's Note: Pretty boys. Pretty boy florists. Pretty boy florist assassins. Pretty boy florist assassins with lots of angst… Me bad. Oh, oblivious Kenken… gotta love him! And damn these boys… now they're all starting to talk to me… *gah!*
Disclaimer: Not mine. They belong to the incredibly sexy Takehito Koyasu and Project Weiß and probably some other very large corporations... but not me.
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I know this love is passing time, passing through like liquid; I am drunk on my desire... But I love the way you smile at me I love the way your hands reach out and hold me near I believe... I believe this is heaven to no one else but me... Elsewhere - Sarah McLachlan
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Ken Hidaka barely noticed the near-murderous glares anymore. Only full strength shi-ne glares concerned him. "C'mon, Aya! Omi has cram school all afternoon. And I need to get to the field early today. Tamura-san is bringing her son for extra practice."
Aya had already turned back to what he was doing, lips pressed in a thin line, silent. The red-head stood inside the opened front cooler door, calmly re-arranging the contents of the cut flower buckets to cover the spaces left when individual stems were purchased. They'd sold a lot of roses today. Ken had no idea why, but it seemed that Yohji had been particularly flirtatious with all the school girls that afternoon. They'd all left giggling and giddy from his extravagant flattery. Ken had just rolled his eyes in disgust. Didn't Yohji get enough of that crap when he went out prowling at night?
But, come to think of it, Yohji hadn't been out bar-hopping in more than two weeks now. Ever since the night he dented Aya's car when he came in drunk… Ken winced in remembered sympathy. Aya had been furious. Ken still wasn't sure exactly how Yohji had talked the swordsman out of using his katana on the Seven's canvas top in retaliation since that was the night Yohji had paid for him and Omi to go to a movie. He told them later that he had wanted to break the news to Aya without innocent bystanders around… Ken still thought that had been a reckless move on Yohji's part, but it seemed to have worked. Yohji was still alive and the Seven was intact.
Even though Yohji had apparently stopped his clubbing for now, the older man was showing no signs of the crankiness such a long drought usually brought on. Actually, he seemed unusually relaxed. Almost happy at times, even. Ken shot Yohji a speculative look over his shoulder, gaze narrowed on the tall blond where he leaned with his usual feline grace against the register table, amused green eyes watching his apparently fruitless pleading with Aya. Did he have a steady girl for a change?
Ken shook his head at the ridiculous thought, transferring his attention back to Aya. It was Aya he should be concerned with, since the red-head was about to go off-shift. He had to convince him to stay. If he didn't hurry, Miyuki-san would have to take Hisoka back to his grandmother so that she could go on to work and the boy would miss practice again. And Ken would miss seeing Miyuki-san again…
"I'll work two shifts for you! But not on Thursdays… okay?" he offered desperately, trying not to glance at the clock every second. Yes, that second hand was moving awfully fast, it seemed, but he still had fifteen minutes. Almost enough time to change into his practice gear and get to the park on his bike in time. If he left now. "C'mon, Aya, it's only a coupla hours!"
Yohji laughed behind him. He'd been watching silently for the last ten minutes as Ken all but got down on his knees and begged Aya to take over the rest of his shift. The older man was probably having a hell of time watching, but Ken didn't turn to see the huge smirk he knew was on Yohji's face; all his attention was now focused on Aya's lean back. Willing him to be considerate for a change and help him out.
"Hey, yeah, come on, Aya," Yohji interjected, amusement plain in his tone. "Can't you see Romeo's practically fainting here? Take pity on the boy. Let him go be alone with his lady-friend and her kid for a while, huh?"
Ken flushed at Yohji's words. Romeo? His lady-friend? What the hell? He just wanted to help out Miyuki-san. She had to work two shifts at the hospital on Thursdays and the only way she could let her son Hisoka attend practice was if Ken was there an hour early. He didn't consider it much of an imposition. Miyuki-san was just an over-worked single mother that he wanted to help out, that was all. It wasn't an imposition for Ken to take the boy home to the house Miyuki-san shared with her mother after practice either… especially if Miyuki-san was between shifts. Ken flushed harder, but didn't argue.
Aya looked up. He shot Yohji a narrowed-eyed glare through the glass cooler door that was almost up to full death-dealing state.
"All right." Ken had to blink once in shock at Aya's sudden capitulation. "Two shifts."
"What? Really?" But he was already stripping off his apron. Not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth. Aya being reasonable? He'd better go before the mercurial swordsman changed his mind. Ken wadded the apron up as he spun away with a little whoop. He shot the bunched-up apron at the box set beside the back bench like a basketball, oblivious of where it actually landed. "Thanks, Aya! I'm outta here. Don't expect me for dinner, guys."
He raced for the back of the shop, bursting eagerly into the small hall that led in four distinctly different directions; garage, kitchen, stairs up to the living quarters and stairs down to the basement mission room. He sprinted up the stairs for his own rooms on the first floor stripping his dark blue polo shirt off as he went.
Inside his rooms then, tossing the shirt carelessly toward the pile near the laundry basket he kicked off his work half-boots just before he stripped off his jeans. Snatching up shorts, vented work-out shirt and running shoes, Ken dressed hastily. Mind fixed on the best way to reach the sports field at this time of day through Tokyo traffic. Bouncing impatiently from foot to foot as he put on his shoes while searching for his wallet and keys at the same time, Ken was struck with sudden inspiration.
Maybe Miyuki-san would like a flower of her own? They'd sold enough single roses today to silly school girls who promptly swapped them with each other to implant the idea firmly in his mind that a flower was a cheerful present between friends. Pausing just long enough to drag a comb through his hair and actually tie his shoelaces, Ken snatched up his leather jacket and slammed out of his room. He bounding down the stairs three at a time, turning at the last second into the shop door rather than the garage.
"Hey, Yohji! What kind of rose is good for friends?" he called as he burst through the door… without thinking about it first. Then he grimaced, screeched to a halt in the middle of the shop and smacked himself in the forehead. Asking Yohji was just asking for more teasing! Ken swiped his hand down his face in disgust, finally blinking out warily between his spread fingers at his two teammates.
Yohji was standing at the front of the shop now, close by the display cooler and Aya, a twisted Yohji-smug grin on his face. Aya was leaning against the cooler door, his head down, glaring at the floor with his hands fisted at his sides. Annoyed? What, had Yohji been harassing Aya about something too? Ken dropped his hand from his face and rolled his eyes. Yohji and his damned teasing…
"Thought you were leaving already, Kenken," Yohji said, crossing his arms over his chest, his green eyes glittering with a kind of manic glee over being handed such ammunition, no doubt. Ken groaned as the blond continued, "And why do you need to know the right rose color for a… friend, huh?"
"Um… I, ah… just thought that Tamura-san would like a flower for her trouble," he stammered. "In case I'm late…" Then his irritation flared. "Shit, just pick the right kind out for me, Yohji! I wanna get on the road…"
"Yellow," Aya said sharply, spinning around to the cooler and yanking the door open. He reached into the buckets, moved his hand among them for a moment before carefully removed a single yellow rose, the bud just unfurling and still in a graceful tulip shape. Lovely, fresh and beautiful. Trust Aya to find the best rosebud in the whole damn shop, Ken thought. Slipping a plastic reservoir of nutrient water on the end of the stem, the red-head turned and took a long step past Yohji as the cooler door swung shut behind him, brushing into the other man as he did so since Yohji made no move to get out of his way.
That drew a dangerously narrow-eyed glare from Aya that Yohji just smirked at before turning and leaning back against the now-closed cooler. Ken frowned for a moment. What was that all about? What the hell could Yohji be riding Aya about anyway? Usually it was Aya riding Yohji over his piss-poor work attitude. Not that Yohji had given him any reason for that today… they'd sold tons of single flowers. High profit margin, those.
Then Aya was thrusting the rose at him, his face set in grim lines, long bangs falling down over seething violet eyes.
"Wrap it yourself," he snapped before striding toward the live plant display in the window on the far side of the shop. Ken grimaced, shot the still smirking Yohji a 'what kind of death-wish do you have anyway you idiot' look then darted back to the arranging bench at the back of the shop. He quickly wrapped the single rose in green waxed tissue, then wrapped the whole thing in clear, stiff cellophane, tying it shut with a piece of blue ribbon, hoping that would preserve the rosebud against most of the abuse it would get inside his coat while riding his motorcycle.
"Hey… I'm gone," he called with a last look back at his teammates and a wave. Yohji was sauntering across the shop, hands in the front pockets of his ridiculously tight, low-slung pants, a wicked grin on his lips. He'd dug his sunglasses out of his shirt pocket – silk for Chrissake! – and put them on for some reason, concealing his eyes. Aya was carefully unfurling the small shop hose, preparing to give the display it's afternoon watering.
Ken shook his head. If he was Yohji, he didn't think he'd be looking quite so smug at having to be alone in the shop with Aya for a few hours. Aya was looking pretty damn annoyed right then.
With a shrug, Ken dashed off to the garage, keys already out. It wasn't his problem if Yohji wanted to feel the sharp side of the swordsman's tongue. Ken was just glad he didn't have to be around to hear it.
* * * * *
Several hours later, Ken quietly opened the door from the garage to the shop. Not even running out of gas on his bike and having to push it the last five blocks or so to the store had managed to spoil his mood. Managing to catch Miyuki-san at the park probably had something to do with that he admitted to himself with a faintly rueful grin. He couldn't keep the image of her soft eyes out of his head. Or the way the sunlight had picked out the subtle reddish highlights in her lovely dark hair that afternoon. The rose had gone over well. She'd seemed genuinely pleased, smiling at him shyly from behind her hand.
It was just too bad she hadn't been home when he'd dropped Hisoka off. Though he'd seen the yellow rose in a vase set prominently on the main table in the house when he left the boy there twenty minutes ago. It wasn’t quite seven-thirty yet, but he'd probably have to find his own food. Omi wouldn't be back from cram school for another half hour or so because he usually ate somewhere on the way home… Lost in pleasantly mundane thoughts, Ken looked up as he rounded the corner in the short hall that would take him to the kitchen proper and came to a sudden, stunned halt.
Yohji had Aya pinned to the far wall beside the back door. The tall blond loomed over the shorter red-head; one tanned hand was wrapped tightly around both of Aya's wrists and was holding them imprisoned above his head. And Yohji's other hand – if Ken could believe his eyes – was stuck down the front of Aya's pants.
But what truly stunned Ken was the look on Aya's face. His teeth were buried in his lower lip. His pale skin was flushed. His eyes were closed and his head tipped back against the wall as the normally aloof man gave a low moan of what sounded distinctly like pleasure.
"That's right, baby," Yohji was saying, his voice lowered to a smooth purr that Ken had never heard him use before. His hand inside Aya's loosened pants was moving slowly and deliberately in a way that no man anywhere on earth could mistake. "I was teasing you horribly all day long, wasn't I? But I always make it up to you, don't I, Aya?"
"Yes, you do," Aya said after another low moan. "Bastard." And his voice was just as strange. Rough and raw yet somehow almost… affectionate. Showing far more emotion than Ken had ever dreamed the swordsman was capable of… at least of emotions other than anger or rage. Ken's eyes grew wider as Yohji leaned over and ran his lips down the side of Aya's face, skimmed them over the flushed cheek and back toward the man's ear. Aya turned blindly toward him, gasping softly, as if disappointed. Yohji chuckled against his skin, his face buried against Aya's neck, blond hair falling forward and concealing whatever he was doing. Then his hand started to move faster in Aya's pants.
Ken could hear wet sounds, flesh on flesh… soft moans from Aya as his hands clenched into and out of fists, as his arms strained against Yohji's imprisoning grip… Yohji's voice murmuring to him, now too low to be understood. Aya's face was turned toward Yohji. Eyes still closed. Mouth open. Hips rolling up into Yohji's strokes. Lost in what the other man was doing to him.
And he looked… Aya… Aya looked… vulnerable. Incredible. Human.
Confused, shocked and mildly appalled, Ken backed slowly away. He walked with extreme care back down the hall. Somehow they hadn't heard him open the garage door. He glanced at it with wide eyes that ached a bit from being held so wide, but he couldn't make himself blink more than once. The door hadn't latched completely behind him – that had probably muffled the sound. And he'd walked his bike in… Ken pulled the garage door open slowly and stepped back into the garage like a sleepwalker. He closed the door with infinite care behind him, not wanting the two in the kitchen to know that he'd seen them.
Walking back over to his bike, Ken braced his hands on the back of it and leaned over. Staring down at the formed black leather of the seat blankly.
Aya… and Yohji… were…
His mind whirled as all his pre-conceptions about his teammates came crashing down around his ears.
Yohji was a playboy. He chased women all the time. Flirted. Teased. Fooled around. He loved women… and he hated men.
Ken blinked once at that thought. Apparently not. At least not Aya…
In many ways, Yohji was the big brother he'd never had. A perverted, lazy, annoying big brother, granted, but from what he'd heard, that was exactly what a big brother was supposed to be. To find out that Yohji, the playboy big brother, liked to do that with men too… Ken's mind reeled.
He shuddered, hands fisting on the back of his bike.
And Aya… The man was an iceberg. Emotionless. Pitiless. Focused. Unless you made the mistake of saying the name 'Takatori' in his hearing. Or just plain annoyed him… which sometimes was just by breathing…
But… his face, his voice… Ken couldn't get the image of Aya's face out of his mind. He'd looked so open, so relaxed, so normal… or as normal as it could get for two men to be doing that kind of thing together. Ken snorted and shook his head sharply. Not that he really cared about someone's sexual orientation, but it was easier to think that way when it was nameless people somewhere else rather than two men who you depended on for your very life at times. Two men who had kept this hidden for a while…
Because for Aya to be that relaxed, for Yohji to say what he had, this must have been going on for some time and Ken just hadn't realized it. Because he'd had no idea. None. Never in a million years would he have guessed they were doing that. So they hadn't started acting any differently. Ken slapped himself on the forehead. Of course not! They were hiding it, fool!
But Aya… his face… that had been trust. He trusted Yohji enough to let him do that to him… and Ken felt a strange pang of anguish go through him.
Then he heard the door open behind him and whirled around to see Yohji walk silently into the garage, green eyes narrowed. They stared at each other for a long moment, level, wary. Sizing each other up. Ken's breathing grew heavy, his nerves jumping, hands flexing into and out of fists at his side. Like Aya… His eyes widened in horrified dismay and Yohji snorted, easing subtly. He reached into his back pocket and dug out his cigarettes and lighter. Shook one out. Stuck it between his lips and lit it. Every move was steady and normal and relaxed. There was no air of guilty shame around him. No dismay at being exposed. Nothing except the usual annoyingly composed, casual Yohji.
"Saw too much, did you?" Yohji said, an easy twist to his lips. His usual mocking smile. No different.
"I didn't make any noise…" was the first thing Ken thought to say, eyes narrowing.
Yohji sucked in on his cigarette, making the tip glow bright, then he tilted his head back and blew out a long stream of smoke toward the ceiling, eyeing the banks of fluorescent lights up above.
"No, but I saw the light down the hall."
Ken cursed under his breath. The hall had been dark. But it had been Aya who was facing the hallway.
"Where's…" Aya. He couldn't bring himself to say the man's name.
"Upstairs," Yohji said, a trace of anger entering his tone as he plucked the cigarette out of his mouth. "Thanks a lot, baka. Do you know how long it took me to talk him into doing it in the kitchen? K'so!"
Ken goggled at him, shocked by Yohji's casual treatment of the whole thing.
"Is that all you can think about? Not getting it where you want it?"
"No, actually, I'm trying to keep from kicking your ass for not staying out later, Kenken," Yohji said, green eyes narrowed with true anger now. "He's so freaked I may never talk him into it again."
"What!? What about me, damn it? Since when are you gay, Yohji?" Ken snarled.
"Since when is it any of your damn business, Ken?" Yohji snarled right back. "You never cared when you caught me fucking a woman in the hall. Why does this matter? Or did you just like the other view better?"
Ken felt his jaw drop. He stared at Yohji in amazement not knowing whether to throw a punch at him or grab him and shake him. Not that either one would do him any good… Yohji was damn fast.
"It really doesn't matter to you that you're fucking Aya?" Ken cried. "He's a guy!"
"No, Ken, since I'm the one doing it, it probably shouldn't matter to me, don't you think?" Yohji gave an exasperated sigh, running the hand without the cigarette through his loose hair. "Look, are you going to keep being stupid about this? I've always been bi, Ken, I just didn't bother to let you guys know it. Not that it's really any of your business, anyway."
Yohji tossed his just-lit cigarette on the floor and crushed it out viciously with his boot heel. Ken glared at him, heart and mind boiling with confused emotions. Things weren't as they seemed. Had never been as they seemed. His world was shaken.
"What does that make Aya, then?"
"Whatever he wants to be, Ken," Yohji said, voice heavy with menace. "Right now, he wants to be mine. And I'm happy to keep it that way. Just be glad I talked him into going upstairs. He's damn pissed right now."
"He's pissed!?
"Ken!" Yohji shouted in exasperation. "What the hell do you have to be pissed about? You didn't get interrupted!"
Ken scowled, so overcome by anger and irritation over Yohji's stubborn obliviousness that he wanted to scream. "You guys are gay!" he bellowed instead.
"So?"
Ken blinked. Yohji laughed and waved a languid hand at him. Ken found himself wondering if he should have known about Yohji before… the way he moved… the way he dressed… but all those women who flocked around him… and that didn't explain Aya… except he used a girl's name… and always wore that long earring… Ken's mind spun in confusion and half-panic. How could he have been so blind? How could he have missed something so… so…
"I get it. You're afraid we'll put the moves on you, eh?" Yohji laughed again as he raked his gaze blatantly over his body. "Sorry, Kenken, you're not my type. Besides, it's been more than two years – don't you think I'd've tried something sooner if you were?"
Ken just gaped at him, brain derailed once more. Yohji had no shame. None. Then he flushed and spluttered. "I'm not your type?"
Yohji shook his head, lips twisted up in that annoying, knowing smile of his. "Nope. And Aya's a one-man deal, I'm afraid. Rather vehemently."
"What?" Ken shook his head in angry confusion and turned away. He wanted to hit something and he didn't think Yohji would hold still for it. He wasn't dumb enough to pick a fight with Aya… not when the other man had his sword handy, anyway. He very badly wanted his bugnuks and a roomful of dark beasts to slay. And just how had the conversation gone this way? Why couldn't Yohji just freakin' understand his shock? And why the hell was he actually annoyed that Yohji didn't consider him his type? What the fuck?!
"Ken," Yohji said from behind him, his tone weary and serious all of a sudden. "Nothing's different than it was this afternoon. Whether I'm fucking half a dozen strangers a week or just Aya, it's still me, okay?"
The soft, faintly vulnerable words deflated all his anger. Yohji never sounded like that. He didn't like it. It made him feel small and stupid and petty. Ken threaded his hands into his own hair, fingers digging into his scalp as he closed his eyes tightly and gritted his teeth.
"Yohji… it's just… shit," he said, words, as always, failing him when it was really important. "It was a shock, okay? I'm dealing. But give me time."
"Okay."
His scalp was starting to protest so he forced his hands to relax, but he kept them on top of his head, the stretch feeling vaguely satisfying. He thought of Aya then. Stretched almost like this, with his head turned toward Yohji's, body held safe in Yohji's strong embrace as he allowed himself to be made open, vulnerable. Aya. Abyssinian. Their icy leader. Aya. Just a man with needs like any other... His mind threatened to go into a spin again, as he thought of red hair turned trustingly against blond and his heart began to pound with something frighteningly close to longing…
"No…" he breathed, shocked again, but at himself this time.
"What?" Yohji asked, his voice normal again.
Ken dropped his hands down to his sides, fists clenched tight enough for fingernails to draw blood.
"Nothing, Yohji. It's nothing."
- - fin - -