This is for my tay-chan, because she asked for it, but didn't think she'd ever see it.

This is for my tay-koi because she enjoys this pairing as much as I do -- because she shares almost all the same interests I do, effortlessly, naturally.

This is for my Tracy because she puts up with my moods and many flaws and faults with a grace I can only admire.

Because she gets up early to drive me to work every day, because she does most of the shopping, because she picks up beer and cigarettes on her long way home....

This is for my Tracy because she doesn't push me to be anything other than I am, but inspires me to become better all the time.

This is because I love her and because I can be sure that she loves me in return.

Aishiteru, atashi no aisuru!!
your becki ^_^

"Aya-chan has a *what*?!" Vivid amethyst eyes narrowed, meeting startled emerald with a hint of censure. "A date, Yoji. She has a date. You know -- one of those things you go out on every evening we don't have a mission?"

Kudou Yoji pulled a face at his fellow assassin and coworker in the Koneko no Sumu Ie. "Don't hafta be such a bastard about it." Then his eyes flew wide in alarm as a thought struck him. "Aya-chan's date had better not be anything like any of mine!" he uttered in an appalled tone.

"Well, I doubt her new boyfriend is as pretty as any of yours...." There was a definite smirk in that usually toneless deep voice.

"Yarou!" The brunette made a long arm and smacked the back of that fiery-crimson head; though carefully not hard enough to call the other's volatile wrath down upon himself. Yoji didn't feel like spoiling a perfectly lovely May morning by earning himself a beating.

The two men were lounging in the flower shop on a lazy Sunday, waiting sleepily for the custom that did not show and in the meantime enjoying the warm sunlight that slanted in through the tall plate glass windows of the front. Occasionally one of them would raise some subject or another for quiet conversation, but for the most part they had been content to remain silent... until Aya had mentioned his sister's impending date.

"Oh, that's right. You're between boyfriends right now, aren't you?" Full colorless lips curled in a smile of wicked amusement. "So I guess you could say that Aya-chan is one up on you. Ne, Yoji?"

"Urusai na," Yoji growled, glaring over the long arms he had folded across the back of the chair he was straddling. His endless legs were sprawled to either side in a manner that might have been considered a safety hazard... if there had been anyone but the two of them and the shop cat present. Ever since stumbling accidentally across the not-so-inconsequential fact that one Kudou Yoji was not as straight as the image he so fanatically projected to the world, Aya had not let one opportunity to needle the tall brunette pass him by. True, he never said anything too openly incriminating before any of the others -- nothing that would give the game away -- but not a single chance escaped him. And it turned out Aya had a regular talent for filthy innuendo that Yoji had never suspected could be present in that formerly restrained personality. Yoji was getting fed up, and he almost wished that when Aya-chan had awakened from her long coma, her older brother's long-buried sense of humor had not roused with her! Well, almost, but not quite. He could appreciate Aya's new lightness of outlook -- he just appreciated it more when it was not aimed at him!

Yoji eyed his companion objectively. There had been so many changes since Aya-chan had entered their lives. For the group as a whole, but especially for her oniisan. Aya was still Aya, but now he smiled a little more often, and didn't snap a harsh reply to the most innocuous questions. It was a long, slow process, but some of the ice was finally thawing from that frozen soul. Yoji had sometimes despaired of ever seeing that happen, but Aya-chan could do things no one else could do; especially where her brother was concerned.

At present the three other Weiss members and the two representatives of Kritiker continued to refer to Fujimiya Ran by the name he had borrowed from his imouto while she had been in her coma. They *had* made an effort, at first, to call him 'Ran', but they had continually found themselves slipping, and when the redhead had brusquely told them to stop trying, they had all admittedly been relieved. After so long it was nearly impossible to change the way they saw the young man.

And, besides.... As Aya had confided to Yoji one night about four months ago, with a soberness that belied the amount of alcohol he had imbibed, he no longer felt he was a same person he had been when he had been 'Ran'. He had changed too much, had become a killer. He had, for a short time after her awakening, thought that he was now too soiled, too stained with the blood of his victims, to be a suitable oniisan for Aya-chan. He still felt that to attempt to recapture Ran would be an exercise in futility. Aya had also told Yoji that night that he thought of himself as 'Aya' now, though with a different infliction to the two short syllables than he mentally assigned his sister. And just before he had passed out, he had thanked Yoji for giving him that name.

Yoji didn't know whether Aya had remembered this confession the next morning, after regaining consciousness and recovering from his monstrous hangover.... But *Yoji* remembered, and would always remember, and he clutched the knowledge jealously to his heart, refusing to share. He had never seen Aya so honest and so open in his honesty before, and he wasn't sure he ever would again. So that moment had become one of the precious jewels in his memory, and even if Aya had lost it, he would carry it forever for them both.

At any rate, calling both siblings by the same name didn't get as confusing as had at first seemed likely. Aya was simply Aya, as he had always been. And his imouto was Aya-chan to them all. It was what they would have ended up calling her anyway.

Things *had* changed after the final confrontation with Schwarz. They were still assassins who hunted the underbelly of the city at night and worked in the Kitty in the House flower shop by day. They still received their mission orders from Manx, and occasionally Birman. Yoji still flirted with the girls, Ken still played unofficial soccer coach for the young neighborhood boys, Omi still got perfect grades in school.... None of that was very different. But now that Aya-chan was a near-constant, endlessly cheerful presence....

Well, the other Weiss members were now coming to see how Aya might have been forced off the deep end when his sister had been so dreadfully wounded. Already none of them could imagine life without the genki waif bouncing around as their own adopted 'imouto'. The girl knew about their double-lives and accepted it as something they individually had to do for their own reasons; not as the horrible deviancy they each at times felt it to be. In Aya-chan's mind, they were all fighting for 'good' -- or at least to annihilate 'evil' -- and her easy understanding went a long way as a balm to ease their battered consciences. This was the only thing that had allowed Aya to pick up his life as her oniisan again, instead of losing himself in a welter of bitterness and despair.

Yoji didn't think anyone else knew how close Aya-chan had come to losing her older brother almost as soon as she had regained him, but he had seen the struggle, and had been more relieved than his heart knew how to express when Aya-chan's love had won out over her brother's heavy feeling of guilt. Yoji hadn't known he had felt so deeply for Aya -- but, then, they had been working together for two years, and in spite of Aya's prickly nature, and Yoji's tendency to hide his true emotions under layers of pretense, they had somehow, incredibly, become... friends... somewhere along the road. And, besides, if anything had happened to Aya, Aya-chan would have suffered the most for it!

Aya-chan.... Although she fretted over their wounds as she treated them, and complained when they wouldn't tell her any more about a mission than they deemed suitable, Aya-chan had unwavering faith in their abilities, and she never once expressed any doubt that they would all return to her alive and in relatively one piece. And so, for Aya-chan, they always did. No matter how dangerous the mission... they now had an angel to come home to, and that made all the difference in the world.

Which was why Yoji was so upset now! He dragged his mind back to the subject at hand, and pinned Aya with a hard look.

"How can you just say that so calmly?!" he demanded. "Aya-chan has a *date*! You know what boys her age are like! They're all hormonal little pricks! Aya--"

"My sister is not a child anymore, Yoji," Aya interrupted, some of that familiar coldness seeping back into his voice. He hadn't changed *that* much, after all. "Her body and mind are sixteen, and *legally* she is eighteen. If she wants to go on a date six months after her return to life, then who are we to say no?"

"Wh-- Uh--!" Yoji's mouth flapped, but he was unable to articulate any of the thoughts banging around inside his skull. "Bu-But Aya~!! Tell me you've at least *met* the guy!!"

"Mochiron." Aya bobbed his crimson head shortly. "Aya-chan introduced me to him when I picked her up from school a few days ago. His name is Chiba Hideo, and he seems to be perfectly respectable."

"Hn." Yoji snorted. "That's what they all want you to think! And meanwhile, he's busily trying to get into Aya-chan's panties! I know how these sorts of guys work, Aya! Don't trust him for an instant!"

The redhead was giving the brunette a strange look. "I'll never understand it," he said slowly, almost as if speaking to himself.

Yoji paused in mid-rant. "Understand what?"

Aya tilted his head, his pale, perfect face more open then it had been half a year ago. "How you can hate the male gender as much as you do, and still be sleeping with--"

"Urusai!!" Yoji fairly howled, a bright flush breaking out over smooth cheeks. "That is *none* of your business, Aya!! And it has nothing to do with Aya-chan or her date!"

"Ho?" Violet eyes blinked at Yoji. Leaf-green met them, angry and defiant. The two men looked away from one another and silence settled over the shop. The bobtail calico lying in a swath of sunlight rose, stretched, then flopped back down to continue her nap.

"Sooo...." Yoji finally cast Aya a sidelong glance from beneath dark bangs. "You gonna follow them?"

Sliver-thin crimson brows drew down in the center. "Mochiron," Aya grunted again.

A broad smile of relief and good-cheer broke out over Kudou Yoji's face. "Good. I'm coming with you. What time is this Hideo-kun picking Aya-chan up?"

Aya fixed Yoji with a long, measuring look. The clock ticked.

Finally.

"This afternoon at two."

Yoji bobbed his head. "Guess we'll be closing the shop early then!"

"Aa."

And so it was decided.

***

"Turn left! Turn left! You're going to lose their bus!" Yoji yelped, pointing wildly.

Aya growled and tightened his grip on the steering wheel until his knuckles whitened -- most likely to restrain himself from wrapping both hands around Yoji's neck and applying pressure.

"Aya--!!"

"Be QUIET!!" Aya finally snapped, whipping his head around to fix Yoji with a dire glare that promised swift death. "I swear, Yoji! And I thought Ken was a bad backseat driver!"

"Watch the road!" Yoji yowled, eyes rounding in terror. "Abunai!!"

Aya snarled, navigating adroitly between an unexpected bicyclist and a huge van with one hand, as he used the other to reach over and deliver his panicking passenger a rather painful backhand to the face.

"Ita!!" Yoji cried, grabbing his nose and staring at Aya in shock. "You hit me!"

"The bus' next stop is Ueno Park," Aya said calmly. "That's obviously where Hideo and Aya-chan are heading. We won't lose them."

"You *hit* me!" Yoji was a bit stuck on that fact. Shock gave way to burgeoning anger. "Aya, you prick!"

"You had it coming," Aya replied without infliction. "I warned you."

Yoji looked for a moment as though he was considering pursuit of the matter, but then he subsided and slumped back in his seat with a sullen expression. "I hate you," he muttered crankily.

Something that might have been a smug grin crossed Aya's pale face, but before Yoji could call him on it, the redhead smoothly parked the Porsche and popped his seatbelt. "Iko."

"K'so...." Yoji gritted his teeth and unfurled long, lean limbs from the car. "They'd better be here, Aya, or so help me...."

"Lower your voice," Aya hissed, amethyst eyes slitting to flash cold fire. "There they are!"

"Ara?" Yoji spun to look. "Shimatta! They can't see us here!" He turned away, holding one graceful hand up to shield his face.

Aya rolled his eyes broadly. This was not an expression he would normally have been inclined to make -- he certainly wouldn't have six months ago -- but somehow it seemed the only suitable response now. As if his sister could ever mistake that tall, male form, a whisker short of six-foot, pencil-thin, with shoulder-length chestnut hair, just because he was hiding his features!

Well, it was true that Yoji had dressed quite differently from his norm for this impromptu 'mission'. Instead of anything skin-tight, his pale blue teeshirt was loose -- in fact, it looked a couple of sizes too big as it hung off his lanky frame. Aya wondered where in the hell Yoji had *gotten* the thing. Only his arms from the elbows down were revealed, instead of all the way to his shoulders and most of his midriff too. But the worst of it was the khakis. Baggy khaki slacks that would have looked more fitting on Ken, and which could not have been further away from the tight jeans or leather pants that Yoji generally favored. Aya guessed that was the point, but... khakis?! The teeshirt was tucked neatly into the waistband, a dark belt that matched Yoji's heavy shoes laced through the loops.... Yoji looked entirely respectable... and entirely unlike himself! Perhaps if Aya-chan only caught a quick glimpse of him....

No. No, Aya-chan was a bright, observant young girl. There was no way for her to mistake her 'Yoji-nii', no matter what he was wearing. Even in some decent clothing for once, Yoji just couldn't pull off 'inconspicuous'. Not with his height and his long hair, and the air of overt sexuality he constantly exuded....

Aya blinked, startled by his own mental maundering. But it was true. Yoji was a sensual creature, and he carried himself in such a manner that the entire world knew it. In some strange way seeing him in these clothes -- respectable, crisp and unrumpled, most of his usually bared flesh covered -- made him *more* desirable, not less. As though he were a gift to be unwrapped; to be rendered sweaty and helpless and disheveled in the heat of passion....

"Na, Aya. They're heading into the park. Let's go!"

That smooth tenor shook him from uncomfortable, unexpected thoughts and returned him to reality with a jolt. He nodded silently, walking beside Yoji as the older youth ambled off, following Aya-chan and her date at a leisurely pace.

It was no secret to his darkest heart that he wanted Kudou Yoji. It hadn't been much more than a slight twitch in the back of his psyche when they had first met -- he had been far too obsessed with gaining vengeance against Takatori, and then he had been plunged into the mad struggle to get Aya-chan back from Schrieint, Schwarz, and Este respectively. It wasn't really until Aya-chan had been returned to him, and he had begun struggling to find something besides vengeance to live for, that he had allowed that little twitch to take root and become an acknowledged fact. He just hadn't thought he could do anything about it, due to Yoji's extravagantly heterosexual lifestyle -- writing it off as a mere fantasy, yet another dream he would not be able to touch. And then.... Well, walking into the alley behind the Koneko no Sumu Ie, where Yoji was supposed to be taking his smoking break, and catching the tall brunette in a searingly passionate liplock which could *not* be passed off as anything else, with a lovely little blonde who could *never* be mistaken for a girl....

At first Yoji had tried to bluster his way out of it -- after sending his youthful partner off in what could only be described as a snit -- but Aya wasn't having any of it, and eventually Yoji had admitted to his dual sexuality. Aya had supposed he oughtn't to have been so surprised, considering how overly hormonal Yoji was at the best of times, and how the man dressed and carried himself.... And yet, after what was nearly three years of thinking of Yoji as being completely straight had blinded him to the obvious. He knew Ken and Omi were still clueless. Aya-chan as well. Manx and Birman, though, who knew more about the Weiss boys' lives than they themselves did... they might already be aware of the gay nightclubs and the male lovers. But if they were, they obviously weren't going to say anything. And so the knowledge was Aya's alone to hang over Yoji's head.

It was fun to watch Yoji squirm whenever he teased him, as nothing had been 'fun' for years; since before Aya-chan's accident. But more than that, it gave him a feeling of power over the other man. And this was a heady feeling -- one he liked very, very much. He wanted Yoji. Wanted to dominate him, possess him, fuck him....

And yet, he still had not acted on this desire. Why? Perhaps because Yoji was too important to him as a friend. He knew he could take what he wanted if Yoji would not give it -- but that would destroy their friendship, and that was something Aya was not ready to do. In spite of dark fantasies of rape and ownership, that was not really what he wanted from Yoji. He had thought at first that it was, and those had been dangerous times, where he might have breached a border that could never be crossed again. But he had resisted, and now he knew that what he wanted... was to laugh with Yoji, to speak softly about inconsequential things, to watch the sleek lines of that gorgeous body whenever Yoji was not looking, to see those beautiful emerald eyes alight with humor or snapping with anger....

All right, so there was a still a dark part to his soul that wanted to hurt Yoji, to tear him apart, to bring the older man to tears, on his knees before him....

But this shadow was faint and fading in the growing illumination of his resurrected heart. And Aya-chan's presence went a long way toward protecting the Balinese -- whenever Aya thought of his imouto finding out what he wanted to do to Yoji, what he *could* do if he chose, his blood ran cold as winter ice. It was not to be imagined. And so he left the darkness behind without a second thought -- though he had to admit that it colored some of his more forceful thoughts about Yoji.

Still, thoughts were all they were. Aya had still not acted upon any of them. Beyond some good-natured -- or, really, *not* so good-natured if he was honest -- taunting, he had not brought the subject up seriously, and he was pretty sure Yoji was entirely unaware of his feelings. It was safer that way, for them both. They were friends. This was comfortable and dependable. Getting more emotionally entangled....

Besides, what if Aya made an overture and was rejected? Not only would this place a blight upon the friendship he so valued, but it would remove his hold over Yoji. If he admitted to being entirely oriented towards the male sex, Yoji would grab a hold of that fact and never let go! Aya shuddered at the mere thought.

"You cold, Aya?" Yoji questioned, once again capturing the redhead's drifting attention. "If anything, I'd think you'd be too warm!" The brunette raised his head, squinting up at the sky. "It's a nice day out, though."

"I'm fine," Aya replied shortly, shaking off the last of his distraction. He was wearing a yellow jersey and a pair of black jeans -- just right for the day's mild temperature. As far as disguises went, he *had* slapped a baseball cap on his head -- after all, there were few people in Tokyo with his particular shade of fiery crimson hair, and so this had seemed only prudent.

"He doesn't look too bad...." Yoji's voice was grudging. The assassin wanted so badly to dislike Hideo, but as Aya had told him, the boy was perfectly respectable, as well as being quite good looking. Since Aya-chan was sixteen in body and mind, it had been decided that she ought to return to high school as a Sophomore and try to catch up some before she plunged into the lifestyle demanded of an eighteen year old. So Chiba Hideo was also sixteen, as he was one of Aya-chan's classmates. He was a slender youth with an open, attractive face, sincere brown eyes, and unruly auburn hair. Aya had to admit, he and Aya-chan looked striking together. From this distance, they couldn't be sure, naturally, but Hideo was seemed to be behaving as politely as could be wished of a young Japanese student. He and Aya-chan were a bit shy with one another, and yet there was no sense of underlying discomfort. As Aya-chan had informed her brother, she and Hideo had known each other for five months now; sharing the same classroom and going to the same cram school. It was probably only the fact that this was an official 'date' instead of just casual conversation that was making them both a little stiff. It had been years and years since Aya's-- no *Ran's* first, and last, date with a member of the opposite sex... but he felt he wasn't too far off the mark, in spite of the lack of practical experience of his own.

Aya was silent, as Yoji's comment didn't seem to require a response, keeping pace easily with those longer legs. Yoji was consciously walking much more slowly than usual -- after all, they didn't want to catch up to the young couple ahead of them! They were two professional assassins, one of whom had once been a private detective, tailing two innocent, oblivious high school students. They could have done this in their sleep.

Aya cast a glance over at his companion. Yoji was adeptly lighting a cigarette while walking; he exhaled a plume of white smoke that was barely visible in the bright sunlight. That was one bad habit Aya-chan had not been able to cajole Yoji into giving up, no matter how hard she tried.... But Aya was rather glad for that. While the smoke couldn't be good for Yoji's lungs, the way those lush lips caressed the white cylinder of the filter... the way Yoji's forest-green eyes would become heavy-lidded with an expression of almost-feline, entirely sensual contentment whenever he lit up after closing shop or after almost any meal.... Well, it may not be healthy, but it was sexy as all hell!

"They're getting ice cream," Yoji suddenly said, stretching his free arm to bar Aya's path. "We should sit here and wait." He indicated a nearby park bench in a swirl of smoke.

"Aa." Aya glanced forward at the cart about twenty meters away, where Hideo was indeed buying Aya-chan a waffle cone. Chocolate. That was her favorite, so it was only natural. Aya sat himself down as Aya-chan and Hideo walked the short distance to another park bench just beyond the vender, and sat -- their backs safely to Aya and Yoji -- conversing in shy starts and stutters as they enjoyed their sweet treats.

"Uff!" Yoji threw himself down on the bench with a sigh of exasperation. "He better not think he can win her favors with ice cream," he growled, glaring darkly at the young couple.

"Does that ever work?" Aya asked curiously. He remembered the time Sakura had bought him an ice cream cone... but he doubted that she had harbored any ulterior motives. True, she had developed quite a crush on him, but that had surely been an innocent gesture. The girl still hung around, as though waiting for Aya to change his mind, but.... Well, she was a pale shadow compared to Aya-chan, now that his sister had awakened. Besides, she was even younger than his sister, and the mere fact that she resembled his imouto so closely was a huge turn-off in itself! He loved his sister, but he didn't *love* his sister!

And then there was the fact that Sakura -- aside from age and appearance -- was the wrong gender for Aya to be interested....

But that was a secret he kept to himself. Fortunately, Sakura had been busy lately with her after-school activities, and hadn't been pining over him as much as previously. He had been fascinated by her resemblance to Aya-chan while his sister had been in a coma, and he admired her courage as well as still being immensely grateful to her for the part she had played in helping him get Aya-chan back after she had been taken by Schwarz.... But that was as far as it went! Now that Aya-chan was awake, he didn't need to grasp for intangible ghosts of memory. Sakura was a sweet young girl, but she was just that -- a sweet *young* GIRL! Now that he had his sister back, that severed most of the ties Aya had felt bound him to Sakura.

Aya-chan had greeted him with bright, clear eyes and a flying glomp, that day six months ago; after he and the other Weiss members had made their way back to the flower shop Momoe-san and the girls had been keeping open in anticipation of their return. Even though the embrace had jarred fresh wounds -- it had been a narrow escape, and Aya still wasn't sure how they had all made it through the disaster alive -- it had been the most wonderful thing Aya had ever felt. Sakura's tearful greeting, her pale arms fluttering as though wishing to hug him as well but not daring to, had meant nothing. He couldn't tear his attention away from his sister. As though his soul had slept alongside Aya-chan on that stark hospital bed, Aya found himself feeling as though he was awakening from a fog. Things that had mattered so much before became meaningless. And things he had dismissed as unimportant for years; ever since Aya-chan had been caught in that explosion; suddenly gained vital natures when viewed through his sister's eyes. Aya felt as though he was slowly learning how to be human again.

"Phst." Yoji was answering his question. "No~!" The lanky assassin leaned back, crossing long legs, and taking a last absent drag on his cigarette before flicking the butt gracefully away. "And Aya-chan's too good to sell her virtue for ice cream. But that doesn't mean he's not *trying*!"

Aya tilted his head, brows creasing in a slight frown. "Since when are you so cynical, Yoji?" he questioned, marveling that he actually cared about the answer.

"Since Aya-chan has a *date*!" Yoji burst out, sitting up and flinging his arms wide.

"Hn." Aya sat back and folded his arms. "Well, better get used to it. She's young, pretty, and outgoing. Whether she goes out with Hideo again or not, expect many more dates in the future."

Yoji was staring at Aya, appearing shell-shocked. "H-how can you just *say* that?!" he demanded again. "Aya~!!"

Aya gazed levely at his flustered friend. The truth was that his first reaction to this new development had been much along the same line as Yoji's. But he couldn't ruin things for Aya-chan. Girls her age were *supposed* to be dating -- it was part and parcel with her rising from her coma. He couldn't embrace the one and deny the other. That wouldn't be fair to Aya-chan. Even though the protective nature of an older brother was howling at him to keep his imouto safe from the danger represented by unfamiliar males, he had to be realistic about this. Most of his adult life after the bomb explosion had consisted of denying or ignoring reality. But now he was 'awake', and he wanted to live in the same reality Aya-chan inhabited. If that meant restraining himself from killing every boy that asked her out... letting her make her own decisions even when he knew better.... Well, that was the price he had to pay. It still beat all hell out of sitting next to a pale, silent girl on a hospital bed with little hope that she would ever open her eyes and speak to him again.

Really, he'd *had* to come to an acceptance of the situation. His love for his sister had demanded it. To be over-protective, to throw fits like Yoji was doing... that sort of reaction would only drive Aya-chan away from him. If he had to share her to keep her, then he was willing to make the sacrifice.

And, actually, he was discovering that the more Yoji overreacted, the easier it was for him to keep a calm aspect toward the entire situation. It was a matter of being born contrary.

"That's just the way it is, Yoji," he stated, his voice filled with a warmth that startled him when he took note of it. "Would you rather wrap Aya-chan up in gauze and deny her a normal life? That would be almost the same as wishing her back to her hospital bed."

"A-Aya!" Yoji's eyes were almost as huge as Omi's, his jaw slack. "O-omae wa--"

"They're leaving," Aya jolted out, rising abruptly. He could feel his cheeks heating, embarrassed to be caught being philosophical; especially by Yoji. It wasn't that he thought the tall brunette wouldn't understand -- rather, he was knew that Yoji would understand all too well, and that was what he was afraid of!

"Osh'!" Yoji rose more slowly, stretching and scratching the back of his neck. He managed to be casual without being *overly* casual and thus suspicious; but then, he *had* been doing this sort of thing for a long time. "Looks like they might be going for a boat ride," he commented, even though it appeared he hadn't glanced once in the young couple's direction. "Question is, do we rent a boat and follow them onto the lake?"

"Iya." Aya shook his head, glad beyond words that Yoji was willing to drop the subject. He didn't take his eyes off of his sister and her date as he and Yoji sauntered in a leisurely fashion after the two. It looked as though they did indeed intend to rent a boat. Aya hoped Hideo knew what he was doing and practiced proper safety measures as he took Aya-chan out on the lake.

"Oi, Aya, want an ice cream?" Yoji asked as the two men approached the cart. "What's your favorite flavor?"

Aya blinked, dragging his gaze away from his imouto and giving Yoji a look that was close to bewilderment. "Nani?"

"Your favorite flavor," Yoji pursued. Was that a wicked smirk quirking the corners of his lush mouth? ...... No. He must be imagining things.

"I--" He glanced over. He could just barely make out Hideo seating Aya-chan carefully in a small boat. He and Yoji wouldn't be going anywhere for a while....

"C'mon, Aya. It's my treat!" Yoji reached over to tug at one of Aya's bright earlocks. "Oi!"

Aya batted his hand away irritably. "Vanilla," he said shortly.

Yoji hooted with amusement, already reaching in his pocket for his wallet. "Vanilla?! Shoulda known!"

"What is that supposed to mean?" Aya directed a fierce glare at the older man, but Yoji was already stepping up to the vender.

"One vanilla and one lemon," he ordered crisply.

"Lemon?" Aya's nose wrinkled in distaste.

Yoji turned slightly to grin at Aya as the cones were being scooped. "Sure! It's tangy -- not too sweet but still sweet enough. You know?"

A crimson brow hiked high. "No." But he could imagine, all too clearly. Did everything about Yoji have to scream sex?! It was as though the tall brunette was coming onto him! But he knew better. Being who they were, he being who he was, it just couldn't be possible.

"Hai! Kore!"

Aya blinked as a white-topped cone suddenly appeared before his face, and grasped it out of instinct.

"So, why don't we rent a boat and follow them out on the water?" Yoji asked, plastering his lips over the tip of his own ice cream then lingering in a manner guaranteed to overload Aya with patently ecchi thoughts. He scowled at the other man.

"Because there's no shelter out on the lake," he replied coolly. "There's no way Aya-chan could miss recognizing us if we got close enough to keep an eye on them."

"Sou kai." Yoji nodded, expression rueful, as he curled his tongue around the sides of his cone. "You're right. Don't you get tired of always being right?" He cast Aya an arch look, tilting his head. "Your ice cream is going to melt. Aren't you going to at least try it?"

"Aa." Aya glared at the cone as though it were a target he was about to assassinate. His amethyst eyes jerked up as he thought he heard Yoji chuckle, but the taller man was gazing off into the distance, enjoying his own -- Aya shuddered -- lemon ice cream. Tentatively, he tried a lick. It was nice. Sweet and cold. Vanilla *had* been Ran's favorite, and his new self was discovering that Aya liked it as much as Ran had. There was something about eating ice cream in the park... with Yoji.... Though why Yoji found it so amusing was beyond him. What was wrong with liking vanilla best?!

"Na, Aya, there's something I don't get."

He looked up. Yoji was still turned away, and Aya took the opportunity to admire that delicate profile, broken but not marred by the ever-present sunglasses. "What?"

Yoji cast his eyes to the side, and Aya looked away quickly, cursing his fair complexion as he could feel himself faintly blushing. But if Yoji noticed, he made no comment, only continued. "For all your preaching about letting Aya-chan live her own life you're still out here with me, following her. Why come?"

Aya's eyes narrowed and he attacked his ice cream ferociously. He had hoped Yoji wouldn't pick up on this small hypocrisy on his part. He had his reasons -- the main one being that even though he believed everything he had said to Yoji... no matter what his head told him, his heart urged him to track his beloved imouto on her first date as a hound trailed a hare. After all, it was her *first date*! He needed to see with his own eyes that Aya-chan would be okay before he let go completely.

"Na, Aya...." Yoji broke off and Aya could almost hear his eyes widening. "M-masaka!!"

Aya glanced up, seeing Yoji's gaze trained on a point over his left shoulder. He turned, curious but not alarmed; Yoji's expression was one of shock, not panic, after all. He understood why when his eyes alighted on something he would never in a dozen lifetimes have expected to see.

Walking sedately together, not holding hands but so close they might as well have been, heads turned to one another in intimate conversation were... Manx and Birman!

Both Aya's brows hoisted, his ice cream ignored as it dripped over the edge of the cone and got his pale fingers sticky.

Manx was wearing a white tank with crisp navy slacks, and tennis shoes instead of the ever-present pumps he was familiar with. But it was Birman who looked completely out of her usual character... in a soft, fluttery summer dress of pale blue, a matching straw hat capping her dark head neatly.

"Th-th-they're..." Yoji gulped out, raising a trembling finger to point at the lovely couple; neither of whom took a moment to look up and notice the two stunned men. Which was just as well, Aya thought, considering the blithering idiot Yoji was currently making of himself, and his own round-eyed wonder. Besides, the two women deserved their privacy, no matter if they were on a-- a--

"They're on a *date*!" Yoji's voice broke on a high note.

Aya winced, but the two senior members of Kritiker sailed blissfully on by, never once glancing in their direction.

Yoji was right, though. Even for someone like Aya, the signs -- body language, facial expressions, etcetera -- were clearly there to read. And if *Yoji* said it was so.... Well, Yoji of all people was unlikely to mistake even the most subtle signs of a date -- regardless of whether the two on said date were one of the least likely pairings possible!

Recovering quickly -- he *was* contrary, after all, and had spent almost three years after Aya-chan's hospitalization quashing anything approaching an honest reaction -- Aya allowed a small smile to curve his lips. "So it would appear. Good for them. Let's leave them to it." He bent his attention to his ice cream, trying to rescue his fingers from the melting mess without too great a loss of dignity.

Yoji was still gibbering in shock, staring after Manx and Birman as they rapidly faded into the moderate mass of Tokyo residents out enjoying a beautiful summer afternoon in the park. Aya sighed and grasped a slim but powerfully muscled arm in his free hand, dragging Yoji over to a swath of emerald, where the lawn ran down into the lake. The small area was sheltered by tall saplings on two sides, screening them from most of the bustle of humanity and granting the illusion of privacy. They could gaze out over the water and distantly view Hideo and Aya-chan's boat, or raise their eyes further to trace over the skyline of Tokyo, standing out against the blue of sky and white of clouds.

Ignoring both these, Aya seated himself gracefully and finished his ice cream. Yoji landed next to him with a thud.

"Shimatta!" the brunette wailed. "Now I'll never get into Manx's--"

Aya coughed.

"Uh.... Good graces," Yoji finished lamely. He scowled down at the last of his cone and popped it in his mouth, then laid himself back on the grass with a heavy sigh of contentment. "Still, who'd'a thunk it! Na?"

Aya didn't feel any reply was necessary and the two men sat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the cool air that came off the water and the warm sunlight caressing their bodies.

"So.... Which one do you think is Top?" Yoji finally spoke up, glancing over at Aya with bright eyes and a wicked little grin.

"I think..." Aya replied slowly, "That it is none of our business. As far as Manx and Birman are concerned, we were not here today, and we saw nothing."

"Ch'. You're a spoilsport, Aya." Yoji wrinkled his nose at his friend.

Aya slitted a sideways glance at the older man. "Saa? And how would you feel if Manx and Birman knew about any of your dates with boys?"

Yoji sat up abruptly, face drawing into lines of anger. "Is that a threat, Aya?!" he demanded fiercely.

"Iie." Aya shook his head. "Just drawing you a comparison."

Yoji stared at him a moment longer, apparently weighing Aya's words for the truth. Finally he grunted and lay back down, lacing his hands behind his head. "You really are no fun to talk to, Aya. Mou~! Always so serious!"

"Hn." Aya's mouth tightened, his eyes unseeing as he stared out over the water from under the cap of his visor. He knew Yoji only meant it half-jokingly, but the fact was that he *meant* the other half, and this stung. One of the drawbacks to rediscovering his heart, was that he was rediscovering that a heart could be wounded.

"Na, Aya...." Yoji's drawl was sleepy and sensual. Aya felt the hair on his arms prickle and -- to his utter chagrin -- his groin tightened as well. Was this what romance writers referred to as a "bedroom voice"? Because that's what it made him visualize -- Yoji laid out on smooth silk sheets rather than prickly green grass... gazing at him with heavy-lidded, passion-darkened eyes instead of hiding behind his sunglasses.... It was a rich, intimate tone, and it made his long-repressed hormones leap.

"What?" he asked shortly. The fact that he even bothered to respond and didn't just ignore Yoji was another sign of his awakening heart.

"Have you noticed?" Yoji continued in that velvet voice of his. "The clouds."

Aya looked up. There were indeed several fluffy clouds scattered about the horizon -- they were likely part of the reason the morning had stayed fairly cool, and so now the afternoon was warm but not hot. Still, he didn't see anything out of the ordinary about them....

"The clouds?"

"Aa." Yoji sounded lazy, relaxed, and Aya didn't dare to glance in his direction. There were times when Yoji tempted him worse than others... and this was definitely one of those times. But Aya was here for Aya-chan, not to get himself rebuffed by his teammate and secret desire. He had to keep that clearly in mind.

"Look there." Yoji was continuing. "Where the sky is more white -- in the west. The tops of the clouds are darker. But over to the north and south, where the sky is a darker shade of blue, the cloud tops are pure white. It's a good balance. Looks pretty."

Aya tracked his gaze along the skyline as directed, marveling that Yoji would notice something so esoteric, so trivial. *He* never would have noticed if Yoji had not called his attention to it. He guessed it must be the artistic side of Yoji's nature coming out -- the part Yoji tried to hide, didn't share with the others, but which snuck out at odd times. Like the fact that his floral arrangements were usually better even than Omi's. Or the line of well-worn sketchbooks that took nearly one full shelf of the tall bookshelves in his bedroom -- Aya had never had a chance to peer in one, but he took them as proof that if Yoji didn't draw now, at least he had used to, quite a bit. And there were the rest of the books -- very little manga, mostly classics... not a single cheap grocery-store romance or dating guide, as might have been expected of someone with the personality Yoji projected.

He was right about the clouds, of course. On the surface it didn't seem that Yoji's comment was anything more than idle rambling. But Aya knew Yoji well enough to know how much more there was to it than that. It was one of those examples of seeing something beautiful, that came out sounding lame or stupid when spoken aloud in an attempt to share. Yoji almost never gave anyone glimpses into his head like this. Aya could count on one hand the number of times Yoji had voluntarily shared a moment of noticed beauty -- and he knew why. It was too hazardous to show a portion of one's private heart and risk being met with only blank, uncomprehending looks, or hurtful laughter. This was one of the things Aya loved about his imouto. Aya-chan always understood and she never laughed. It made his heart jump to realize that Yoji was according him the same amount of trust he gave his sister; even if only for this brief moment.

"Un." He didn't have anything to offer Yoji but his agreement -- he hoped it was enough.

Yoji was silent after his observation and Aya's terse acknowledgment. After a moment, Aya risked a glance over. The tall, lanky brunette was relaxed on the grass, hands still cradling the back of his head, his eyes behind the shaded lenses of his sunglasses closed, lips slightly parted. The sunlight caught in the dark waves of his hair, stringing it with strands of near-gold, and trailed loving hands across his face, bringing a warm blush to his smooth skin. He looked as though he was sleeping, even though Aya could tell he was not, and it took all the considerable willpower the redhead possessed not to roll himself over on top of that sprawled body and ravage him into the emerald lawn beneath them. It helped to remember that they were in the middle of a crowded park, where, even though they were sheltered by trees, there were plenty of young couples and families who would see if he tried to do anything forceful to Yoji. Damn. Still, for the sake of their continued friendship, it was fortunate that they were in a public place.

Dragging his eyes reluctantly away from the temptation spread out next to him in blithe disarray, Aya focused on the small boat that was *supposed* to be the center of his attention right now. It was nearing the dock -- had they been sitting here and ruminating so long?

"Yoji."

"Nn?" Yoji blinked sleepily up at Aya as he stood smoothly. "R'they done?"

"Almost." Aya thought about it a moment, then lowered his hand. "Iko."

Yoji gave him a sensual smile and reached up languidly. His golden fingers looked odd against Aya's ivory flesh, but they seemed to fit there. Aya curled his hand about Yoji's and levered the taller man to his feet. He thought he felt Yoji's fingertips linger in a small caress across the well of his palm as he drew his hand away... but surely that was nothing more than wishful thinking!

Yoji yawned widely and stretched until his muscles shuddered involuntarily. "Too bad. I was all set to take a nice little nap in the warm sun!"

Aya gave Yoji an arch look. "You're not glad to have Aya-chan and Hideo back where you can keep an eye on them?" he questioned.

"Ah!" Yoji slapped a graceful hand to his forehead, expression chagrined. "Of course! How could I forget?! We'd better get going before we lose them!"

Without further comment, Aya led the way back up to the concrete walkway, then headed after the young couple; who were still deep in conversation as they strolled toward the park's further exit.

"Le'see.... Park, ice cream, boat ride..." Yoji was ticking off on his fingers. "Guess what's next is a stop in some cafe or something.... Unless the boy is taking her home now...?"

Aya snorted with amusement at the hopeful tone in Yoji's voice. "Do they look like they're ready to end their date yet?" he questioned, trying to keep *most* of the sarcasm out of his voice. "They're enjoying one another's company too much for that."

"Hn." Yoji scowled. Then he shrugged. "Maa ii. At least this way I get to eat dinner out. Aya, you treating?"

The redhead cranked up one brow. "And I would do that because...?"

"'Cause it's your sister we're following," Yoji drawled smoothly, though he kept his gaze on the sister in question, not glancing in Aya's direction. "Besides, I popped for the ice cream."

"I didn't ask you to," Aya growled. "Nor did I force you to come with me after Aya-chan."

Yoji gusted out a heavy sigh. "So we go dutch then?" he asked mournfully. Then he straightened and waved a finger. "I hope you realize that means no kiss for you when we get home, Aya!"

Aya nearly stumbled midstep. "B-baka ne!" Damn Yoji for his constant teasing! He had no idea what his idle banter did to Aya! Imagining himself pressing Yoji's lean form back against his apartment door... Yoji's mouth soft and pliant under his... turning the knob and sending them both tumbling inside....

"Na! Aya!" Yoji suddenly sounded distraught, shaking Aya forcibly from too-vivid sexual fantasies that had no place in this sunny park setting. "What do we do if Hideo tries to give Aya-chan a kiss after the date?!"

Aya felt a moment of answering panic at the thought, but then common sense swiftly kicked in. "Baka," he repeated. "It's up to Aya-chan whether Hideo gets a kiss. He's not the sort to try to steal one."

"Sou..." Yoji responded slowly. "Maa, I guess you're right." His voice was grudging to the extreme. "Hideo's a decent enough kid. Demo yo! What if Aya-chan *does* want to kiss him?!"

Aya snorted indelicately. "Then I'll cover your eyes for you," he offered dryly. He didn't think there was much chance of that happening -- not on Aya-chan's first date. But if it *did* happen -- though he considered it so unlikely as to be nearly impossible -- then he probably *would* have to cover Yoji's eyes, or forcibly restrain his tall friend. And he'd thought *he* was protective of Aya-chan!!

"I hope they pick somewhere good to eat." Yoji had evidently decided to move on. "I'm starving!"

"You had ice cream just an hour ago," Aya spoke up quellingly, ignoring the fact that his own stomach was feeling more than a little needy. At least it wasn't growling yet!

"Yeah, but I couldn't eat lunch -- I was too worried about Aya-chan's date," Yoji offered. "And besides-- Acha!" He broke off unexpectedly. "There's Manx and Birman again!" He indicated the two women, who were resting on a bench in front of a riotously blooming flower bed. "Hope they don't see us." He paused, head tilted. "They do look good together, though, don't they?"

Aya glanced over. "Aa." Because they did, even if it was none of his business.

"I'm glad Manx is getting over Persia," Yoji said, pushing his sunglasses up onto his head and brushing strands of hair out of his mouth. "This is good for her."

"N-nani?!"

"Are? You didn't know?" Yoji grinned, tossing his head cheerfully. "It was obvious from the first that Manx was in love with Persia! Mataku -- how out of it *were* you, Aya?"

Aya blinked. Yoji was right -- he'd been so self-absorbed during most of his time in Weiss.... If it hadn't involve himself or Aya-chan, he had taken no notice of it. He had a feeling he'd missed a lot that way. Well, he was awake and aware now. Things would no longer slip by him as they had used to do.

"Sou ka..." he replied slowly. He could see Manx having been in love with her powerful, darkly-handsome boss. If there had been one thing Persia had possessed, it had been charisma. Of course, the two would have been too professional to ever do anything together, and so Manx's must have been a hopeless love. Seeing her with Birman, happy and healthy, was a good thing. At least he wasn't the only person beginning on the healing of heart and soul.

"Leaving the park!" Yoji announced unnecessarily. "They're right up there!"

Aya did not respond, and the two men followed the young couple in silence.

"The Wicker Curtain!" Yoji pronounced in fairly hideous English. "Great! They have good food here! And booths, so hopefully we can get a seat near Aya-chan and Hideo without them seeing us!"

Aya nodded. At this point, if Aya-chan caught them they could just claim to be eating out, coincidentally at the same restaurant she and her date had chosen.... But for all she was sweet and accepting, Aya-chan was also a very sharp young girl, and she would immediately suspect them. They might be able to bluff their way out of such a situation, but it was easier just to continue to avoid being seen.

Yoji had half a cigarette outside the cafe before they ventured inside after the young couple, to give them time to find a seat and get settled.

"There," Yoji hissed, tipping his head toward a table over by the window. Aya looked -- his sister and her date were examining their menus, so now would be a good time for he and Yoji to get themselves a table.

Yoji evidently had the same thought, and the two men moved in tandem as they worked their way to a semi-secluded corner of the large eating area. As they passed an occupied booth, a sudden sharp gasp at elbow-height caught their attention.

"Aya-kun! Yoji-kun!" Huge cornflower blue eyes stared up at them in startlement. "What are you doing here? Why aren't you minding the shop?!"

"Giku! Caught!" Yoji gulped, freezing on one foot. "Eh-heh-heh.... Omitichi!" He laughed sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck.

Aya, however, was eyeing Omi's companion, seated on the other side of the booth. "Ken. What are you two doing here... together?" he questioned, drawing out the last word in a suggestive manner.

Ken's face flamed and he mumbled something unintelligible.

"Tonikaku," Yoji wasn't paying any attention. "Scoot over, you guys! Aya-chan's--"

"Mou~!" Omi interrupted irritably. "Go find your own table, Yoji-kun! You're ruining our date!!"

Aya stifled a broad grin. He had already surmised from Ken's demeanor that this was the case -- even though he was a little surprised that Omi would just blurt it right out like that -- and so he folded his arms, standing back to enjoy Yoji's reaction to this abrupt bombshell.

He was not disappointed; those bulging emerald eye and the hanging jaw were all he could have wished. He supposed it was wrong, but it amused him to see the unflappable Kudou Yoji so nonplussed.

"D-d-DATE-O?!"

Aya flinched at the sheer volume of Yoji's voice. He glanced carefully over the plant-laden partition toward Aya-chan's table, then breathed a sigh of relief. His sister was speaking to a waitress and didn't seem to have heard the familiar voice -- no matter how loud Yoji had been.

"Yes, Yoji-kun! We are on a *date*, which you are in the process of *ruining*!" Omi was obviously still tweaked, while Ken squirmed, his ears doing a slow burn.

"Mataku!" Yoji threw his arms out in an expansive gesture. "Is *everyone* out on a date today?!"

"Are ma?" Omi blinked through sandy blonde bangs. "Yoji-kun! Aya-kun! Are you two on a date too?"

"Whu-whu-what?!" Yoji managed to choke out in response to this innocently asked question. "Are you out of your--"

The tall assassin was abruptly cut off as Aya clamped a pale hand over his mouth. "Quiet, or Aya-chan will hear you!" he hissed harshly in Yoji's ear. Those leaf-green eyes rolled toward him in an anguished expression, but Aya was intractable. He didn't feel like explaining to their younger teammates that he was tailing his own imouto on her first date. He just nodded shortly at the pair of wide, wondering eyes and dragged Yoji forcefully over to another booth -- one too far away from Aya-chan to do much good, but it was the best he could manage without risking being seen.

"Aya~!" Yoji wailed woefully as he flopped down on the seat opposite the silent redhead. "Why didn't you give me time to explain?! Now Ken and Omi are going to think--"

"Let them think what they want," Aya said stiffly. "It's not as though they can cast any stones, seeing as *they* actually *are* on a date."

"But-- But--" Yoji's lower lip extended in something dangerously approaching a pout. He looked adorably ruffled and sullen, and Aya could just imagine those full lips wrapped around his....

Suddenly he was very glad he was sitting down right now. He hoped his cheeks weren't flushed, the way it felt they were.

"Heeey!" Yoji's sulk dissolved as realization struck him. "Ken and Omi are on a *date*!!"

Aya grimaced, but this time Yoji had kept his voice down to moderate levels, so he was pretty sure the two Weiss youths under discussion couldn't have heard him, two booths distant as they were. And Aya-chan was even further away. Fortunately, Aya could peer over Yoji's bony shoulder to catch a glimpse of the back of her chestnut-braided head. It was too bad they weren't closer... but there wasn't much Hideo could try in a busy cafe -- even if the boy were so inclined; which, despite Yoji's dire warnings, Aya still doubted he was.

"So, didn't see that one coming either, did you, Yoji?" he asked, a small smirk tugging the corners of his mouth.

"Urusai na," Yoji grumbled, though not as vehemently as earlier that day. "I knew Omi wasn't going to turn out to be straight, and I figured from the first that Ken was bi, but -- for the record -- no, I didn't see them on their way to becoming a couple." The tall brunette pulled a sour face at the redhead. "Guess I've had my mind on other things lately."

"Hn." Aya picked up his menu and hid behind it. *He* hadn't suspected that either of their teammates might be anything other than straight! And yet Yoji had reeled that off so blithely; as though it were an established fact that only an idiot wouldn't know. He almost squirmed in his seat as he found himself wondering what Yoji had surmised about *him*! Surely he couldn't have guessed.... Masaka!

Aya tried to relax. There was no way Yoji could know. He didn't date, didn't stare overlong at any guy's ass -- well, except for Yoji's, but that was only when Yoji wasn't looking -- and his small stash of gay materials was hidden in his bedroom where even Aya-chan, who lived with him, would not find it; much less Yoji, who had his own apartment! Not that there was much -- Aya didn't go in for pornography, and he hadn't had a lover in years, so he didn't need a constant supply of lubricant, condoms, or other erotic sundries. He doubted his tiny collection could compare to what was likely in Yoji's drawers....

Behind the shelter of his menu, Aya clapped a hand to the bridge of his nose, to stave off the nosebleed he could swear he felt threatening. Imagining the toys and other things Yoji might have... imagining even the most mundane items of homosexual congress being *used* by Yoji and any faceless -- but knowing Yoji, surely pretty -- lover.... It was too much!

"Okyakusan, daijoubu desu ka?"

"E-eh?" Violet eyes flickered behind pale lids as Aya blinked up at the anxious young waitress who had asked the question. "A... hai," he nodded briefly, since a response seemed to be required.

"A-are you ready to order?" the girl stuttered, holding up her pad as though in defense.

For a sad moment Aya wondered why everyone seemed to be afraid of him, even now. He could understand *before*, when he was only obsessed with vengeance. But now....

"I'm ready," Yoji announced smoothly, giving the waitress one of his most charming smiles. Aya gritted his teeth as he watched the eldest Weiss member easily flirting while he gave his order.

By the time Yoji had finished, Aya was ready to order the same thing he ordered every time he ate out. He bit out the words with an anger he regretted even as they left his mouth. But he couldn't help it. He shouldn't be jealous -- Yoji was *not* his -- and yet....

"Na, Aya, relax," Yoji drawled as the cowed waitress scampered off. "Aya-chan will be fine. She's a smart girl -- after all, she takes after you!"

Amethyst eyes met emerald. "Aa." If Yoji thought his mood was because of Aya-chan's date... well, so much the better. Yoji already had a large enough ego -- kami forbid he find out that one of his teammates was attracted to him! Not to mention the fact that Aya would never hear the end of it! Or, worse yet, they might never mention it again, but it would hang like a pall of awkwardness over their currently comfortable friendship. That was what Aya feared most of all.

"I guess it might be okay if Aya-chan starts dating," Yoji mumbled pensively, propping his chin on his hand, his gaze unfocused. "As long as she sticks with nice guys like Hideo-kun."

Aya smiled warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. It was an expression that, after six months of practice, was finally beginning to feel natural -- although, most often, it had to sneak up on him. "So, you've figured it out, have you?"

Yoji looked at him quizzically. "Na? Figured what out, Aya?"

"That you shouldn't judge everyone by your own behavior," Aya explained, now outright grinning. "Not all guys are like you."

"Hn!" Yoji tossed his head, chestnut waves shifting about his oval face. "I'd like to think there's no other guys like me anywhere!"

Aya lowered his eyes, glad that Yoji had chosen not to take that comment as the minor insult he had meant it to be, but instead turned it around to his advantage. He didn't really feel like antagonizing Yoji right now -- it was just that he couldn't resist sniping. When it came to Yoji, his tongue had a mind of its own.

"It's not as though I treat any of my dates badly, Aya," Yoji defended, though his tone was only serious, not aggressive. "I never lay claims to love where there isn't any. And I don't take them home as often as you think I do!"

A crimson brow arched. Aya was still not in control of his mouth. "They have their own apartments, then?"

"No!" Yoji scowled, then he blinked. "Well, usually yes, but that's not what I--"

"You use Seven?" Aya queried too-innocently.

"No!" Yoji fairly howled. He slammed a fist down on the tabletop and leaned forward, speaking forcefully. "What I'm *saying* is that I don't sleep with men as often as you obviously think I do, Aya!"

Aya coughed, glancing over Yoji's shoulder at the wildly blushing waitress who was balancing a tray of steaming plates and bowls. "I think our food's here," he offered mildly.

Yoji looked up quickly, then sank into his seat with a low moan. "Shimatta...."

Aya couldn't help himself -- he laughed out loud.

***

"Hayaku!" Yoji urged, glancing back over his shoulder as he followed Aya up the concrete stairs of his apartment building. "They're going to catch up!"

Aya turned and glowered at him. "They're walking. We drove. Stop worrying!" He resumed his path up the steps, then spoke over his shoulder. "Besides, there's only one peephole in the door. How are *you* planning on seeing anything?"

There was a grouchy silence behind the redhead. "I guess I won't be," Yoji finally answered sullenly, as Aya reached into his pocket for his keyring. "But that doesn't mean I want to be caught out here by Aya-chan!"

Aya sighed in exasperation, pushing the door open. He supposed Yoji had a point, though. After Aya-chan had awakened from her coma, her oniisan's tiny apartment had needed to be upgraded to a slightly larger, two-bedroom living space. Consequently, they were no longer in the same building as the other Weiss members. Though Yoji lived less than a five minute walk away, it might be hard to explain his presence here; seeing as he was not regularly in the habit of paying social visits to the Fujimiya residence. Aya-chan would immediately know something was up, and might guess everything.

Yoji peered out the door a moment longer, after he and Aya had entered. "Okay, they just came around the corner of the block," Yoji informed Aya breathlessly, ducking back inside and closing the door to lean back against it. "Na, Aya, sure you don't want to play me Jan-Ken-Pon to see who gets to use the peephole?"

Aya folded his arms and gave the other man a cold look. "This is my apartment, my door, and that's my sister out there."

"And no more need be said, ne?" Yoji shrugged. "Well, it was worth a shot."

Aya grunted, then moved to shoulder Yoji out of the way. "Be quiet and scoot over. They should be here in a minute or two."

"Hei, hei," Yoji drawled, sliding his lanky form aside. "We're bad people, you know. Ne, Aya?"

The crimson-capped assassin paused in the act of placing his eye to the peephole. It was true that this whole venture was rather... well, if not immoral, it certainly was amoral. They were infringing on Aya-chan's private life without shame. She would be angry, or possibly hurt, if she knew. And yet, as concerned older brothers -- actual in his case, 'adopted' in Yoji's -- what else could they have done?

"Deal," he instructed shortly, casting a quick glance at Yoji before fixing his gaze on the fish-bowl view of the walkway and railing outside. He hissed as Aya-chan and Hideo came into sight, whispering a taut, "Silence!" to warn Yoji.

He stiffened and nearly struck out in shock as the taller man unexpectedly draped himself against him in a manner that was decidedly too intimate for his comfort. Yoji never touched him! No one touched him, except Aya-chan and sometimes Ken. He could count on one hand the times Yoji had touched him without violence in the time they had known each other.

"What are they doing?" Yoji breathed in his ear, the almost soundless words breaking over his prickling flesh in a heated rush.

Aya dragged himself away from the distraction that was his older teammate. He could hit Yoji for this later. He instead focused on the scene outside. Yoji's arm was a fiery brand over his shoulders, the warmth of his body beating on him like a raging furnace, but Aya-chan was ending her first date on the other side of the door. He had to prioritize.

"They're talking..." he said, speaking so softly that if Yoji had not been so close he would never have heard him. "Hideo is blushing...."

"Mazui!" Yoji's lips were practically brushing the lobe of his ear. "That's not good -- he's going to charm Aya-chan into a kiss after all!"

"Ssh!" Aya's eyes narrowed as he peered out. "Looks as though she's thanking him... he's saying something...."

"This could go on all evening with two kids like that," Yoji complained. He shifted against Aya; their cheeks were touching. Yoji's face was so smooth.... "Now what?"

Aya restrained a shudder as Yoji's husky question zinged through his bloodstream like a sudden flush of fever. He cursed the man roundly in his head.

"Aya-chan's...." He watched his sister blushing faintly as she leaned up on tip-toe, lips pursing. Hideo's face was crimson, his expression one of embarrassed joy.

"What? What?"

"She just kissed him." Aya grinned. That had been rather sweet, actually--

"What?!" Yoji's voice was suddenly at full volume. "I'm gonna kill that little--"

Aya broke away, slamming into Yoji and driving him back from the door before any more harm could be done. "Shut up!" Their legs tangled as Yoji flailed in startlement, and they fell heavily against the wall, Yoji letting out a pained yelp. "On the cheek, baka!" Aya gritted out, more than a little disconcerted at finding himself pressed so closely to Yoji, their faces barely an inch apart, but needing to derail the other man before he ruined Aya-chan's first date. "She just kissed him on the cheek!"

Yoji opened his mouth, but at that moment the sound of the door opening captured the attention of both men like a rifle firing.

"Ara maa!" Aya-chan stood in the entryway, pausing in the act of toeing off her outdoor shoes, her innocent violet eyes wide. "Ran-nii! Yoji-nii!" A faint blush colored her delicate features, one small hand covering her mouth to hide shock... or amusement? "Am I interrupting something?"

Aya jerked away from Yoji as though he had been stung, feeling his own cheeks burning with heat. "Of course not!" He cleared his throat and refused to look in Yoji's direction. "Okaeri, Aya-chan. Did you have a good time?"

"Un!" The girl nodded, her expression shy but her face glowing. "It was just lovely! And you, niichan? Did you and Yoji-nii have a nice date?"

"Nani?!" Aya could feel his eyes bulge, while behind him Yoji made a strangled noise. "Aya-chan, what--?!"

"Oops!" The young girl smiled sweetly, tipping her head. "Was it supposed to be a secret? Maa, but I saw you together at the park, and then at the same restaurant Hideo-kun and I ate in!" She clasped her hands together, eyes sparkling. "Gomen ne! But I can't help knowing, Ran-nii! I hope you had as nice a time as Hideo-kun and I did!"

Aya felt he was in danger of swallowing his tongue at any moment, and he didn't *dare* to turn and look at Yoji. But... if Aya-chan had seen them, then the only choice was to play along with her misguided supposition. "A-aa," he answered, hoping his voice didn't sound as tight as his throat felt. "We... had a good time. But, Aya-chan--"

"Dai~joubu!" His sister caroled sweetly, moving forward to brush a light kiss to her brother's blazing cheek. "I won't tell anyone, if it's supposed to be a secret! But I think it's wonderful!" She cast a happy smile over at Yoji. "Ganbatte ne!"

Aya wondered if it might be possible to will himself to death right here, right now.

"I'm going to go to my room now, niichan," Aya-chan said with a small yawn.

"Aa," Aya answered weakly.

"Oyasumi, Yoji-nii!" Aya-chan twinkled, and with a last wave of slender fingers, she disappeared into the apartment.

Aya stood stiffly. Yoji was still braced against the wall. Both men were speechless.

After a long moment, Yoji rallied. "I think," he said slowly, his voice shaking ever so faintly, "That I need some alcohol. A whole *lot* of alcohol!" He pushed himself up and moved past Aya's still figure a little less gracefully than usual.

"Matte!" Aya ground out before the tall brunette reached the door. Yoji paused. "Can I join you?" Aya asked, sounding more plaintive than he had meant to. "I... I think I need it."

Yoji was silent for a handful of heartbeats, then he turned with a rueful smile. "Sure. I could use the company."

"Arigatou." Aya followed Yoji out of the apartment and into the early evening.

***

This had probably been a bad idea. Aya lifted the mouth of his current beer bottle to his lips. The glass was cool, the sharp, bitter liquid that fell onto his tongue even colder.

Last time he had gotten drunk with Yoji he had wound up saying way too much, and it had been a sheer miracle he had managed to restrain himself from grabbing the wiry brunette and tumbling him over onto the nearest horizontal surface. Well, actually, it had only been the amount of alcohol he had drunk and the fact that he had keeled over before his hormones had kicked in fully. He was still grateful for that... at the same time he regretted it. But it had been for the best. He had convinced himself of that, because it was the only thing he could believe.

And here he was, doing the same thing all over again. Bakayarou.

"Taku mou~!" Yoji was at least two beers ahead of Aya -- but then, he had a higher tolerance level. They'd worked most of their way through a couple of six-packs, and there was a goodly stock of more waiting in Yoji's refrigerator. "This sucks! Now Aya-chan, Ken, and Omi all think we were on a *date* today! And we can't even say otherwise, or Aya-chan will know we were tailing her! Augh!!" He sank his head into his hands despairingly. Then he looked up, wild-eyed. "I need a cigarette!"

Wordlessly, Aya picked up the pack and lighter that were lying close to him on the coffee table, and held them out.

"Doumo!" Yoji grasped them both, shook loose a slim cylinder, jammed the filter between his lips and lit up -- all with the hand not wrapped around his beer bottle.

Aya waited until Yoji was taking his first grateful drag before snagging the pack Yoji had dropped on the sofa cushion between them and plucking out a cigarette of his own. Yoji choked on a lungful of smoke as Aya adroitly lit the tobacco-stick and inhaled.

"Fuck! Aya! Since when do you smoke?!" he demanded between coughs. "You weren't smoking last time...." He downed a quick swig of beer, then fixed a curious, somehow almost horrified gaze on the stolid redhead.

Aya took a moment to savor the mixture of smoke and beer as the two sensations spread over his tongue. The perfect combination, as Yoji was no doubt already well-aware. He drew on the cigarette again, then leaned forward to flick it in the ashtray set on the coffee table. "I've been smoking for a while now," he said simply. "On and off."

Yoji's green eyes were round. "I've never seen you! Hey! Does Aya-chan know?!"

Aya snorted derisively. "Of course not!"

"Saa." Yoji settled back on the sofa, after moving the ashtray to the cushion for easier reach. "And I thought there couldn't be any more surprises today!"

A small smile curved Aya's lips and he also sat back. It wasn't quite seven o'clock yet, but he'd already called his imouto to tell her not to expect him home until late. He knew his face had lit up like a super-nova when she had blithely told him that she'd be fine if he stayed out all night, and asked him to say "hi" to "Yoji-nii" for her. Needless to say, he had not done so, even when Yoji had asked him what was wrong.

Right now he was pleasantly buzzed. His mind was warm and fuzzy, and it just felt *nice* to be sitting here with Yoji, sharing beer and cigarettes, with the television on for background noise.

"I wouldn't worry too much about Ken and Omi," he offered, admiring the slender lines of Yoji's fine-boned fingers as the older man tamped out his cigarette. Aya was only halfway done with his own, but as Yoji lit up another one almost immediately, he didn't have to smoke alone. "Once they think about it, they'll realize that it was highly unlikely the two of us were on a date."

"Y'think?" Yoji asked, tipping back his head to drain the last of his beer.

"Well, they think you're straight, don't they?" Aya countered wryly. Normally he wouldn't be inclined to speak so many sentences in a row, but Yoji needed to be reassured... so that he would shut up about the whole thing! He'd been whining for the last half hour! "And they also think I'm--" He caught himself with a snap of sharp teeth into his lower lip. Shimatta! Alcohol loosened his tongue a little *too* much!! Unless he was a lot more drunk than he seemed, Yoji was going to pick up on that right away! What a slip to make!

"Ne? Aya?" Yoji blinked at him.

"Do you need another beer?" Aya asked brusquely. His own bottle was almost empty, so.... He stood abruptly.

"Sure," Yoji said, his voice confused. "Aya? Something wrong?"

Aya ignored Yoji as he crossed to the refrigerator. Okay, maybe Yoji *hadn't* caught the real meaning behind his words... yet. That didn't mean that they wouldn't strike him at any moment -- Yoji was a lot more intelligent than most people gave him credit for being; than the image he projected to the world. Any second now, he would get it....

Returning with the two cold bottles, Aya felt the intense need to speak, to distract Yoji from processing his cut-off sentence. But he could think of nothing to say. Before he had been unable to control his mouth -- now it seemed fused shut. He had never been any good at uttering inanities.

"Doumo," Yoji repeated as he took the bottle from Aya's hand. His fingers were warm in comparison to the chill glass, and Aya licked his lips as a thrill of sensation shivered up and down his spine at this contact. Yoji was so close... and Aya's tongue wasn't the only thing loosened by the alcohol -- his natural inhibitions were about ready to slide away as though they had never existed. It was a very dangerous state of affairs. With the beer running through his veins, he was having trouble remembering *why* he didn't just slam himself into Yoji and screw the hell out of his teammate right now. He knew there was a reason... he hadn't forgotten that part of it.... But *what* was it?!

"You okay, Aya?" Yoji asked as the other man seated himself once more on the sofa. "You look a little flushed. Want me to open the window?"

Aya shook his head. "I'm fine. It's just.... It's just been a long day. That's all."

"Nn." Yoji twisted open his new beer. "Yeah, that's true. But I'm wide awake, myself." In spite of these words, he yawned widely before lifting the bottle to his lips. "You're not planning on calling it a night, are you, Aya? It's still early!"

Aya grunted. The fact that he was sitting down with a fresh bottle of beer ought to be enough indication that he intended to stay, he thought. Actually, the truth of the matter was that what he *ought* to do was get the hell out of here *now*, before he wound up doing something he would regret! And yet, he couldn't bring himself to leave. Not before he had stripped that silly oversized teeshirt off of Yoji... tasted those full, pouty lips....

Whoa!! Hold up there, Fujimiya Aya!! The redhead glared down at the mouth of his beer bottle, then leaned forward to set it on the table before grasping and lighting a new cigarette. His hands were shaking.

Yoji was sitting a couple of feet away from him, cross-legged on the sofa, khakis stretching over lean muscles, creasing over his crotch to disguise the sizable package Aya well-knew was there -- he'd seen Yoji in tight denim or leather often enough to be fully aware of that! The material of Yoji's teeshirt was so thin that even as loose as it was, Aya could swear he saw the faint outline of Yoji's nipples where the cloth fell over his slim chest. His shoulders were broad, giving him the illusion of a powerful build, and yet the bony angles pressing up the teeshirt gave lie to that appearance; as well, the thin, wiry forearms that emerged from beneath the wide sleeves. Yoji was so slender than he almost seemed fragile, when seen in clothing other than his mission outfit. And that made Aya want all the more to just grab him and....

"What I don't get," Yoji was saying, dragging Aya's attention away from his sweet body and back to his almost-pretty features, and the lush lips spilling forth that honeyed tenor, "Is how Aya-chan could so quickly and easily assume *we* were on a *date*!" He cast Aya a confused glance. Kami, he was beautiful. Familiarity occasionally inured Aya to the actuality of Yoji's looks, but every now and then he had to pause and take note. Those large, heavy-lidded eyes of clear leaf-green... the high cheekbones.... Yoji's mouth was a bit too wide and his jaw a bit too strong for his features to ever be mistaken for feminine, and yet there was a certain amount of delicacy to his bone structure -- the only word for his face was 'beautiful'. And when combined with the waves of glossy dark chestnut hair... that exquisite body....

"Aya, you're getting ashes on my sofa!" Yoji's raised voice shook Aya out of his rapt contemplation. Shuddering back to reality, he quickly looked away from Yoji's face, glancing down at the sofa cushion, which was indeed spotted with small flecks of grey-white.

"Gomen!" he blurted, dropping his butt in the ashtray and brushing at the guilty spill.

"Daijoubu." Yoji was grinning -- and it was true that his voice before had only been loud enough to draw Aya's attention, not lifted in irritation. "I just didn't want you to burn yourself. Na, Aya, if you're so tired, maybe you *should* go home after all." He sounded mournful.

"I'm not tired," Aya said softly, retrieving his beer and eyeing the bottle. Once he'd finished this one, he didn't think he'd be able to keep himself off of Yoji. He'd already made one bad verbal slip. Every ounce of common sense he possessed was screaming at him to get out, before everything between he and Yoji was irrevocably changed -- destroyed....

He brought the bottle to his lips and let the bitter drink slide over and around his tongue. Screw self-control. He'd already damned himself -- he might as well go all the way this time!

"Does Aya-chan really think I'm gay?" Yoji was somewhere between miffed and plaintive. Then he stiffened, eyes flashing. "Aya! You didn't tell her, did you?!"

"Of course not!" Aya glared heatedly and took another big swig of beer. "I haven't told anyone! Yarou!"

"Saa...." Yoji subsided. "Then how could she have...?" He heaved a huge sigh. "Maa ii. She's a girl. Women have better instincts for that sort of thing than men do. That must be it."

Aya arched a thin brow. "Are you saying you're gay now?" he asked roughly. He was almost done with his beer... and any moment now Yoji was going to put together his slip and the other end to Aya-chan's ill-conceived guess and *know*. "I thought you said you were bisexual."

Yoji stuck his tongue out, then slammed back the last of his beer before he caught the dangerous gleam this first move brought to Aya's narrow eyes. He placed the drained bottle on the table top with the veritable glass forest of other empties. "I am. But lately anymore, I...." His slim hand fluttered in a helpless gesture. "Well, I guess I don't really go out with women too much anymore. They're just... not...." He trailed away, looking thoughtful.

Aya was interested in where Yoji was taking this, as well as being gratified to know he was not the only one who couldn't control his tongue while drinking. Normally Yoji would never be this open -- they would *not* be having this conversation if they had not both consumed so much alcohol.

"I mean, I love women," Yoji continued, staring blankly at the television. "I do. They're beautiful, and soft, and they smell good.... But...."

Aya smirked. "But a woman can't toss you on a bed and fuck you cross-eyed."

"WAH!" Yoji fell off the sofa, literally. He lay sprawled on the floor, gaping up at Aya like a landed fish. "A-A-AYA~!!!"

Aya finished his beer and placed the bottle carefully on the coffee table. It was nearly time. Yoji was laid out before him in a sensual sprawl too delicious to resist. And so... he would cease to resist. There was certain freedom felt in letting go control. Tonight he was going to take what he wanted, and consequences be damned.

"Chigau yo!" Yoji protested, his endless legs flailing against the floor as he vainly tried to use the table and sofa to lever himself back up. "It's not like that, Aya!"

"No?" Aya's eyes slitted. "Usotsuki," he accused coldly.

"Fuck you, Aya!" Yoji snapped, subsiding back to the floor, propped on his elbows. "What the hell would you know about it, anyway?! Do you even know what sex *is*?!"

Anger flared in Aya's chest and in a heartbeat he found himself straddling Yoji's prone form in the narrow space between the table and sofa, his hands gripping the collar of that ridiculous teeshirt. He tugged Yoji up so that they were face to face; so close their noses were almost bumping; and hissed furiously. "Ask me that again, Yoji! Just dare to try!"

Emerald-green eyes were huge with alarm, Yoji's face slack with shock at the unexpected assault. "A-Aya..." he faltered, voice breathy and small. "Whu-what are you...?"

Aya was hyper-aware of his own inner thighs pressed closely against Yoji's flanks, of the small amount of space that separated their groins -- the even smaller space between their mouths. "If you don't want to be fucked, Yoji," he bit out harshly, just barely managing to cling to the last lingering threads of his tattered self-control, "Then why don't you have sex with women? If you want to do the fucking instead of feeling a hard cock slam up your ass, then *why* do you sleep with men?!"

Yoji's head snapped back as though he had been struck, his eyes as round as saucers. His lips parted but no sound emerged -- he looked as though he was on the verge of passing out; no doubt from the shock of Aya's blunt language.

Aya could resist no longer. Letting go of Yoji's shirt with one hand, he tangled his fingers in that tumbled chestnut hair, yanking Yoji's head back. Even as Yoji let out a pained cry at this ruthless treatment, Aya lunged forward to claim his parted lips.

Their first kiss was neither sweet nor gentle. That was not what Aya wanted. Yoji had angered him, had hurt him a little with his unthinking words. He was going to extract payment for this. As well, he had held off for so long, restrained himself from following his instincts regarding Yoji and claiming what he so very much wanted, that now that he had loosed control, there was nothing but raging hunger there.

He bruised Yoji's full lips beneath his own, reveling in the pressure, the pain, the intimacy of such close contact. He knew that a light touch would heighten the sensation, would give them both more pleasure, but this was about dominance, desire, passion. It was as though he was trying to fuse their mouths as one through sheer violence -- there was nothing of romance in this kiss. It was raw, primal, brutal.

Sharp teeth sank into Yoji's lower lip, then Aya tilted his head, holding Yoji's in place, as he thrust his tongue without ceremony into the hot, wet interior of the other man's mouth. Yoji tasted of beer and cigarettes, of salt and musk. He tasted of man, and Aya was overwhelmed with the need to consume all that Yoji was.

He twined his tongue with Yoji's, slightly startled when he felt Yoji beginning to respond, their flesh moving together slick and warm. Heat raced through his veins, converging in his crotch, his jeans growing increasingly tight in that one focal area. He shifted to intensify the pressure, groaning into Yoji's mouth as his hips jolted forward of their own volition, liquid sensation rippling through his entire groin. Then he was finally forced to break the kiss, so that they could both breathe.

For long moments the only sounds in the small apartment were the harsh gasping of the two men and the low babble of the ignored television. Yoji's eyes were closed, his lips swollen and moist, parted as he panted for air. Aya watched him narrowly, triumph flaring in his breast. He knew he could have Yoji -- *would* have Yoji! Now he just needed to make sure he convinced the other man of this.

Slowly, slits of verdant darkness were unveiled. Aya met that gaze forthrightly, wondering what reaction he was about to receive. Anger? Fear? Would Yoji try to strike out at him?"

"Na-naruhodo," Yoji finally gasped out, tongue flickering over pressure-bruised lips. Aya could see the marks his teeth had made in the tender flesh.

"What?" he whispered, quelling the urge to pounce, instead loosening his painful grip on Yoji's hair a little, though he did not let go.

"N-now I understand... why you weren't upset when Aya-chan thought we were on a date," Yoji managed. "Now I understand why she thought we *were*!"

"Hn." Aya smiled darkly. "So you're not as stupid as you look."

Yoji's eyes flashed, but then his lids slid down in a sleepy, sexy expression, his broad mouth curving. "Saa. So, Aya, you want me?"

At the sensual drawl, Aya felt his heart speed, and he jerked Yoji back up for another deep kiss, this one less forceful, but no less hungry. Yoji matched him for desire, their tongues meeting and clashing, lush lips shifting beneath his in shiver-shards of velvet friction. The taller man was still on the floor, propped up on his arms. He had made no move to touch Aya or to gain control of the kiss; allowing himself to be dominated entirely, while still being a willing and eager participant. Aya thought his heart would burst -- or if not his heart, then the fly of his jeans. This was everything he had ever wanted and more. Through the slight fuzz of alcohol and the screaming racket of his hormones, he found himself wondering just *why* he had not done this earlier!

With a last lick over Yoji's lower lip, Aya released his mouth again. Yoji's gaze was wondering. "You really do want me?" he asked, as though not quite able to believe it.

"Aa," Aya replied tightly. Now was not the time for words, but he couldn't leave that question unanswered. He would have thought it to be obvious, but.... Suddenly, unexpectedly, a feeling of uncertainty struck him. His violet eyes filled with agonized indecision. "Do you want.... I mean, can you.... Yoji, will you let me...?"

Balancing precariously on one elbow, Yoji reached up to cup Aya's face. His fingers were warm and callused, but they felt cool and soft against Aya's flushed skin. "Maa. Let's move this to the bed, Aya. It'll be more comfortable."

Aya swallowed thickly, hesitating several seconds before rising stiffly -- very stiffly -- off of Yoji and reaching down for the second time that day to help the other man to his feet. His mind flashed back to the afternoon, the park. To that precious moment of Yoji's expressed trust in him. That was why he had paused. That was why he had to know. Because he suddenly realized that he didn't *just* want to screw Yoji into oblivion. That was a big part of it, true. But he also wanted Yoji to be comfortable with him, to understand him.... He wanted Yoji to want him in return. But he still wasn't sure--

"Come." Yoji's fingers twined through his, and the lovely brunette pulled him toward his narrow bed. It was going to be a snug fit with two grown men -- perhaps Yoji had been telling the truth about how often he brought lovers home -- but Aya knew they could make it work. They would just have to remain... close. As Yoji paused at the foot of the bed and tugged Aya to him for another lingering kiss, Aya knew that could be good. He also thought that maybe he had gotten the answer to his half-formed, incoherent question.

Yoji's mouth was soft against his. For a moment Aya savored this sensation, then his frustrated desire kicked in, and in an abrupt, unexpected move, he hooked his foot through Yoji's, and pressed both hands to Yoji's pectorals, shoving the older man down onto his bed.

That lean body sprawled on the mattress, startled emerald eyes peering up at him through tumbled chestnut curls. "A-Aya?"

The slim redhead smiled faintly, the expression bordering on affection, meant to convey something resembling reassurance. "Are you sure, Yoji?" he questioned softly.

Yoji blinked, then nodded. "U-un."

"Good." Aya bent and crawled down over Yoji's prone body, easing down in a sensual stretch. "No second thoughts?"

"No regrets," Yoji whispered in the moment before Aya's lips descended on his.

Aya shifted over top of Yoji, their tongues meeting once more. He moaned into the kiss as his constricted erection pressed against Yoji's bony hip. He could feel the vibration of Yoji's answering groan, was aware of the growing hardness that throbbed under his thigh. Thin fingers dug into his upper arms, his own hands braced on the plush surface of the mattress to hold himself steady above Yoji.

Their lips moved against each other, their tongues twining in a slow dance. The reality of this was more glorious than Aya had ever imagined. Yoji was so warm and pliant beneath him....

Planting small kisses along Yoji's jaw, working down his neck, Aya pushed up onto his knees, reaching down to tug the teeshirt up out of Yoji's waistband. Yoji gasped and arched under him, a long arm moving up to twine about his shoulders. "A-Aya!" he whimpered, tipping his head back, fingers gripping. Aya lingered over a pulse point, teeth sinking into the tender skin without mercy. Yoji let out a strangled cry, one leg twining over Aya's, straining to bring their bodies back into contact.

Aya was unmoving, laving lips and tongue over the bitten spot on Yoji's neck while he shoved the man's teeshirt without ceremony up under his arms. There he had to stop, if only for the moment. Pale fingers traced over hard muscles, tracking up to seek out and manipulate one hard brown nipple.

"Hah!" Yoji clung to him, awash in sensation. "A-Aya! Let me touch--"

"Iya," Aya denied him. He shifted downward, pausing to mouth a prominent collarbone, then moving even lower. He twisted the tip of his tongue around one small outcropping of pebbled flesh, before lowering his mouth to suckle at the erect nipple.

Yoji squirmed, fingers twining through Aya's fiery hair. "Aya~!"

"Lift your arms," Aya instructed hoarsely, raising his head.

Yoji obeyed without protest, wrapping his hands around the dark metal bar at the head of his bed. "Aya...." The husky exhalation of his name went straight to Aya's already aching erection, and he jerked his hips against Yoji's, causing both men to moan aloud.

Regaining control, Aya swiftly stripped Yoji's teeshirt up over his head. Yoji had to release the headboard, but as soon as Aya lifted the piece of clothing away and tossed it over the side of the bed, he grasped hold of it once more. Aya was pleased. He moved his hands downward, unbuckling Yoji's belt and in a matter of moments he had the other man stripped down to his black briefs. He spared a moment to be grateful that just this once Yoji had not been wearing his usual hip-hugging, skin-tight clothing. It had made this much quicker and easier.

"Aya...." Yoji was stretched before him, nearly naked, beautiful, supine. Aya hovered over him, admiring the view. Yoji was... perfection. Slim almost to the point of being gaunt, but with enough well-developed muscle tone to save him from this. Long... impossibly-long, lean limbs, a washboard abdomen, a strong chest.... Aya could see his own saliva faintly glistening on one of Yoji's stiff nipples. The sight enflamed him.

"Yoji." He hooked his hand under one knee and raised a hard leg. Bending, he pressed his mouth to a golden thigh. Yoji's hips bucked upwards and he cried out. Aya ran his tongue down, along the smooth flesh, tasting the tang of salt and of Yoji. He reached the point where leg met torso and nuzzled the soft hollow, the faintest of wispy hair curling beneath his lips. He breathed in the musk of maleness, of arousal, of... of Yoji.

It was all Yoji, and he wanted every sweet drop. He turned his face to the side, Yoji's erection resting against his cheek through his straining briefs, heated and throbbing. Already Yoji was this hard, this eager. His own cock was pressing painfully into the crotch of his jeans -- he could swear he could feel every seam, digging into the sensitive flesh! Those were going to *have* to go!

"Uhn! Aya!" Yoji flexed beneath him.

Responding to the urgency if nothing else, Aya reared up off of Yoji. Hooking his fingers under the hem of his yellow jersey, he peeled it over his head, discarding it along with Yoji's scattered clothing. He had to leave the bed, momentarily, to remove his jeans, hissing as he eased them carefully down over his hips.

A faint chuckle from the direction of the bed captured his attention. "Nani?" he queried tautly.

"Figures you'd be wearing white," Yoji murmured, his eyes tracking along the angular lines of Aya's exposed body with an appreciation that sent an almost agonizing jolt of sexual stimulation straight to Aya's already aching erection.

"You have a problem with white?" he husked, sliding over top of Yoji on his hands and knees, deliberately not touching the other man anywhere. "I'm surprised you're even wearing underwear."

Yoji licked his lips, hands still gripping the headboard, his eyes hooded, simmering with unfulfilled passion. "Aya... please..." he breathed, arching up toward his tormentor.

"And what's wrong with vanilla?" Aya pursued, looming over the prone man. "Ee?"

"Aya." Thick lashes fluttered down to rest upon flushed golden cheeks as Yoji closed his eyes. His chin lifted, lips parted, and he simply waited -- enticement and entreaty in one.

Deciding he didn't really need his question answered when Yoji was actively begging to be ravished, Aya bent his head, flickering his tongue over the crease of Yoji's lips. But because Yoji wanted it -- only because Yoji so obviously wanted it -- he left off after a last little lick, and only nipped at the line of Yoji's jaw. The brunette writhed beneath him, striving vainly to bring some part of their bodies, any part of their bodies, into contact. And yet his hands did not leave the metal bar of the headboard, his slender arms still stretched above his head. This submissive posture more than almost anything else -- except the taste, scent, and radiating heat of Yoji's body -- drove a hard spear of lust through Aya's groin, threatening to bring him off long before he was ready.

Giving in to this hunger, Aya allowed his body to fall down onto Yoji's, forcing a guttural grunt from his own lungs, a throttled -- but pleased -- groan breaking from the man beneath him. Yoji's long legs twined with his own, and Aya swiftly plastered his mouth once more to Yoji's lush lips. His hands descended between their close-pressed bodies to pluck at stiff little nipples, as he allowed all of his body-weight to rest upon Yoji's prone form. This was how it was supposed to be -- Aya on top, both literally and in the sexual sense. Perhaps with women, perhaps with his pretty little blonde boyfriend, Yoji could play Top.... But where Aya was concerned, Yoji would always be the uke. And judging from his soft pleading and obedient posturing so far tonight, Yoji evidently agreed.

"Aya!" Long legs spread to either side of the redhead's rangy hips, and Yoji used the leverage of his feet planted on the mattress to lift his pelvis upwards, driving their barely-covered erections together within the combined pressure of their close-pressed groins.

"Uh-- Fuck!!" Aya's hips jolted down, grinding with reactionary rhythm. "Yoji~!" His hands tangled in soft chestnut curls, jerking violently, dragging Yoji's head back. Lust, fury, and the need to claim Yoji, to *possess* the irritating, annoying, cocky, but oh-so-*sexy* older man crashed over him in waves of molten desire, and without pausing to think -- only feeling -- Aya sank his teeth deeply into the curve where Yoji's shoulder met his neck. It was a feral, half-realized instinct; the desire to mark Yoji, to claim him as Aya's own that drove him to this.

Because whether Yoji realized it yet or not, this was all about ownership. They weren't going to be able to wake up from this the next morning and act as though nothing had happened -- that much was a given. But there was more to it than that. After this, no one else was going to *touch* his Yoji -- not male or female. Especially not male! Yoji was going to be his -- was already his -- whether he knew this yet or not!

Then, as Yoji jolted under him with a startled, pained cry, but did *not* let go of the headboard bar, Aya knew that his lover, his possession, understood.

Liquid fire seared through Aya's body, the faint, bitter-salt tang of Yoji's blood bursting over his tongue like a harsh balm. He hadn't broken Yoji's skin too badly -- there would be a lot of bruising, but that was the worst of it. The teethmarks would heal over in a couple of days. The bruises from Aya's brutal "lovebite" would last longer than that. A physical reminder for them both. Something that would linger. Something that could be renewed, at any time that Aya chose.

"A...ya...." The soft exhalation of his name, riding the gust of Yoji's breath through swollen lips, drew the line tight, straight from Aya's heart to his raging hard-on. Yoji's eyes were squeezed tightly closed, tears pooled at their corners, his beautiful face drawn in an expression of exquisite pain and agonized pleasure. And Aya was the one who had made him look this way.

"Ai--" He cut himself off before he could say too much, moving to claim Yoji's mouth with a tenderness that had not been present so far this evening. His hands moved carefully to cradle the other man's skull through tumbling strands of glossy chestnut, fingers soothing the same scalp he had so recently ravaged. He'd wanted to hurt Yoji... he still wanted to hurt Yoji. He wanted to take Yoji... and he would. But there was a small, sacred portion of himself that was goading him to worship Yoji's beauty -- that urged him to treasure what was being fully offered. He was a soul in conflict, torn between two extremes. Somehow he had to make it work. Because....

Because Yoji was worth the effort. He didn't just want Yoji's sex. He wanted all of Yoji. All that Yoji was -- all that Yoji could be to him. His friend and fellow assassin. A tall, lanky brunette who projected an outward image that was at odds with the person Aya knew he really was inside. Someone who teased them all, but who was the first to step in and help where aid was needed. A man who did small things for his friends, usually without their knowledge, and never asked for thanks; seeming more embarrassed than anything else at being caught when he *was* shown appreciation. Someone who was Aya-chan's adopted 'oniisan', and who took the title more seriously than all but her blood brother. Someone who noticed beauty, who created beauty... who *was* beauty....

All this and more was Yoji, and that was why Aya's mouth was gentle now. Loving, whether he wished to admit it to himself or not. And beneath him, Yoji opened like the most tender blossom. Responding to his kiss. Answering his gentleness. Meeting him in his passion and his confusion and showing him the way to the goal he sought without even being aware of it.

Aya released Yoji's lips slowly, savoring every small shifting of flesh to flesh, his tongue lingering over the lush swell. Now he could only taste himself in Yoji's mouth, nothing else, and this realization made him burn.

"Aya, can I touch now?" Yoji asked breathlessly, thick-damp lashes flickering up to bring that verdant gaze in contact with Aya's vivid twilight-hued stare. "Please...?"

Aya gave it a moment of consideration. But he wasn't done with Yoji. Not yet.

"Not yet," he husked, shifting against Yoji and pulling his hands carefully from that silken mane. Something flashed in Yoji's eyes, but it was gone too swiftly for Aya to identify it. Had it been anger? Arousal? Or merely anticipation? Aya wasn't sure. Perhaps a combination of all three -- that would not have surprised him. Though he preferred to think it was mostly the latter two.

To justify his denial of Yoji's request, Aya turned his attentions once more downward, hands sliding over the smooth lines of the taller man's ribcage and waist to hold his hips. At the same time he lowered his head, mouth sealing to the wound he had placed upon Yoji's flesh. As he suckled, bringing even more blood to the surface, Yoji keened beneath him, hips rocking as much as was possible with all of Aya's lower body weight resting upon them, as well as the firm grip the redhead was maintaining on his pointy pelvis. And yet his hands still did not leave the headboard -- he made no attempts at disobedience, even though he obviously wished to; wanted to touch. And this was the thing that thrilled Aya most of all.

He knew he had to be causing Yoji pain, lingering over a spot so recently wounded. Yet, he couldn't help himself. It would not rise and overwhelm him, but that dark side of his desire still colored his actions towards Yoji.

Yoji released a sound that was half sigh and half whimper as Aya moved down further. The pale fingers clutching Yoji's hips tightened and Aya nuzzled the accentuated hollow between Yoji's collarbones. It was a small hollow of salt-sweat, and he tasted it thoroughly before proceeding. Aya tracked along the indent between Yoji's pectorals, dipping his tongue occasionally to test the resilient flesh; its warmth and the thin layer of sweat overlaying it. Then, taking a detour to the right, he bent to lave the opposite nipple to the one he had previously been paying attention. Worrying it with his teeth, anointing it with lips and tongue, but leaving off before this became too much and all manipulations were rendered meaningless to over-stimulated skin.

Yoji was responsive beneath him, warm and writhing, his soft, throaty voice alternately urging Aya onward and pleading for his own chance to touch. But Aya was not ready to give over his position of utter control, no matter how nice it would have been to feel Yoji's graceful, well-skilled hands moving over his own body. That was a prize he was saving for himself. Right now he was in the process of claiming Yoji for his own. He had already marked him -- now he just needed to make sure Yoji knew who was the master. There had to be no question in the other man's mind -- Aya would accept nothing less!

Rising from the smooth planes of Yoji's chest, Aya contemplated his hard, flat stomach, dimpled by the shallow well of his navel. But he was feeling impatient. Now was not the time for a leisurely exploration of Yoji's torso. Not that it wouldn't be fun to set the other man squirming beneath him, but he was ready to move on to the next order of business.

Which would be both sets of underwear. Yoji's briefs were doing next to nothing to conceal his aroused state, and Aya's own pinched at the strained seams and itched where dampened material rubbed against the sensitive head of his weeping erection.

Aya shifted to kneel between Yoji's soft, smooth thighs, sitting back on his heels and taking a moment to review the situation. Yoji lowered his head from where it had been arched back against the pillow, opening gem-green eyes that were torn between confusion and seduction.

"Aya?" he queried, brow creasing.

"Hush," Aya commanded, deciding the quickest route was the preferred one in this case. There was no point in lingering over the encounter. He wanted Yoji hard, fast, and *now* -- there would be other opportunities for tenderness and extended foreplay in the future. Now he was certain of that.

Rising from the bed for a second time, Aya swiftly stripped away his underwear, freeing his aching cock with a soft sound of relief. Then, before Yoji could make any embarrassing comparisons where size was concerned, Aya moved to pull down the taller man's briefs. Yoji cooperated with a low moan, raising his hips up off the mattress. Even as he dragged the scanty material down Yoji's endlessly long legs, Aya's eyes were fixated on Yoji's rampant manhood. Kami-sama, Yoji was *hung*!! He'd already had an awareness of this, true, but to actually see the other man bared and fully erect.... Well, Aya was just glad it was not Yoji who was going to be on top! *Very* glad, considering the sheer girth of that monstrous cock, and the fact that Aya had not played the bottom to a male lover since he had been Ran; several years ago!

Okay, so Yoji was one-up on him -- at least -- where size was concerned. But Aya was still the one who was in charge here! To prove this, both to Yoji and himself, Aya clambered back atop the prone man, straddling Yoji's thighs and leaning forward so that their stiff members pressed close in one smooth, heated glide.

"Ah~!" Yoji's body jolted beneath him, the iron bar in his hands creaking with the pressure of his convulsing arm muscles. "Aya, now?!" The desperate query escaped his mouth as a throttled groan.

Aya moaned, lunging forward, his hips grinding instinctively into Yoji's, his hands twining up around Yoji's torso to grasp his shoulders, pulling their bodies together tightly. "Hai," he managed breathlessly, his face pressed to the side of Yoji's neck.

In an instant, Yoji's arms were wrapped around his own shoulders, fingers digging into the taut muscles of his upper back. Blindly, he sought out Yoji's parted lips, and ground their mouths together with a hunger that was unquenchable, that could only be fueled. Yoji met him with equal ferocity, and they shared heated moments of hard, lust-driven, lung-collapsing oral merging, their bodies striving involuntarily for the same closeness.

Aya shuddered, feeling the burning throb of Yoji's trapped hard-on branded against his lower belly, the slickness of its leaking tip marking his abdomen with the proof of Yoji's arousal. His own member lay alongside Yoji's, the sensation of pressure and heat threatening to overwhelm his shattered thoughts. He knew his own seed was pooling on Yoji's stomach. He knew he had to get inside of that delicious body soon, before his raging desire overflowed and stained them both with semen and disappointment. He had been wanting this for too long to hold back now.

"A...ya...." Yoji's voice was a husky moan. A slender hand trailed down the smooth curve of Aya's back to cup one tight buttock. Aya growled and bit vengefully at the wound he had inflicted on Yoji's soft neck, causing the other man to yelp and arch beneath him. He utilized this movement, shifting slightly to the side and slipping one hand between their close-pressed bodies. Yoji cried out again as Aya wrapped his fingers around both their cocks as well as he was able, fisting them at the same time, his grip not gentle, demanding, almost bruising.

"Angh! Aya!!" Blunt nails raked down the redhead's back, not harshly enough to break the skin, but sending pleasure-shock rippling through the muscles. Aya responded by closing his teeth more sharply on the fragile skin he held captive, creating new marks, overwriting the dull throb of previous welting with fresh pain.

"Oh-- fuck--" Yoji was panting beneath him, eyes squeezed shut, torn between the stinging of his neck and shoulder, and the raw sexual stimulation Aya was applying with merciless fingers to his aching erection. His hands fisted over his tormentor's shoulders, useless, and he clung to Aya, tears springing from under thick lashes, too awash in conflicting sensations to be an active participant any longer. "Aya!"

With a harsh gasp, Aya jerked his head up, releasing his grip on his and Yoji's cocks before he brought one or the other of them off prematurely. It was time to take this to the next level. Even though he relished the image of Yoji's generous mouth wrapped around his burgeoning cock, slickness and suction, mingling saliva and seed.... Not now. There would be opportunities for that later. Right now he wanted only to plunge himself into Yoji's pliant body, to fuck him hard and fast until they both came, marking Yoji as his own. It didn't matter who else had been there before -- once Aya had claimed Yoji, there would be no one else. He had to make Yoji *his* in the most intimate sense of the word -- only then would there be a chance for games; for extended foreplay, for headjobs, for handjobs, whatever else they desired.

Lifting himself partway off of Yoji, reveling in the stifled moan of frustration and the tightening of the loose embrace ringing his shoulders, Aya gazed down with heavy-lidded eyes. "Yoji. You must have...."

"A-aa." The brunette's face was dewed with sweat, long strands of hair clinging to his skin, his dark eyes glazed over with lust. Aya drank in the flushed cheeks, the full, bruised lips, the expression of acute longing that shaded that exquisite face. Yoji was so beautiful. In repose, in laughter, in anger... and now, viewed in the throes of passion, Aya knew there could not be anything more beautiful in the world. "I-in the drawer," Yoji continued breathlessly, waving a hand toward the small table Aya had not previously noticed sitting beside the head of the bed. "Mochiron."

"Mochiron," Aya echoed, a small smirk curving his lips. He caught Yoji's avid gaze fixed on his face and paused before reaching for the indicated drawer. He couldn't see his image reflected in Yoji's eyes, but he knew he felt sticky, sweaty, flushed, and flustered. Nothing that might warrant Yoji's tenderness of expression. "What?" he asked shortly.

"You're so beautiful, Aya," Yoji whispered, reaching up a trembling hand to touch the side of the redhead's pale face.

Aya restrained his initial reaction, which would have been to jerk his head away, then resisted his next impulse, which was to turn and nuzzle the fingers resting against his cheek. His eyes narrowed and he reached up to grasp Yoji's arm. "Usotsuki," he responded for the second time that evening, his voice as quiet as Yoji's had been. Before Yoji could respond to this accusation, he twisted the slender arm away, turning his face to press his mouth against the wiry cords and veins that ran under the thin flesh of Yoji's wrist. "You're the one that's beautiful."

Yoji blinked, his expression part stunned wonder, part frustrated irritation. "Aya...."

Ignoring him, Aya released Yoji's arm and leaned over to open the drawer. A wave of pleasure washed through him as this move shifted his groin against Yoji's, and the other man let out a little moan, falling back onto the bed, his eyes sliding closed.

Grasping the knob, Aya tugged the drawer open. As he had expected, a tantalizing array of sexual toys and aids met his gaze. And he had thought his heart could not race any more quickly....

"The dark bottle... with the yellow label," Yoji breathed, flexing impatiently beneath the man still seated on his thighs. "Use that one, Aya."

The redhead plucked out the jar Yoji had named, eyes tracking swiftly over the other contents of the drawer; all neatly laid out and organized. There were other bottles and tubes of what were surely lubricant and oils. There were also plenty of condoms. Well, whether Yoji approved or not, Aya wasn't going to be using any of those. As long as Yoji normally used them... and Aya knew from his last physical with Kritiker that he, himself, was clean.... He trusted that Yoji was not carrying any debilitating diseases. Besides, at this point, even if it wasn't the most rational reaction, he was so far gone that he just didn't *care*! He was going to make sure that Yoji knew that he *belonged* to him!

A flash of silver caught at his eye as he was about to slide the drawer shut, and he arched one thin crimson brow. Now, *those* were interesting....

"Aya, hayaku," Yoji urged in a throaty murmur, his hips shifting restlessly under Aya's weight. "Uhn... please...." His hands were fisted in the bedcovers, his head tossed back, eyes closed.

"Hai..." Aya breathed, grasping the jar of scented oil in one hand, his other plucking the item that had caught his attention out of the drawer.

Yoji's eyes flew open as the jingle of silver-metal reached his ears. Dropping the bottle on the mattress next to them, Aya snagged Yoji's arm once more, closing the shiny, silk-lined cuff about his bony wrist with a sharp 'click'.

"You have the keys to these?" he asked hoarsely.

The brunette drew in a sharp breath, something raw and vulnerable flashing in his dark eyes. "Un. In... in the box in the drawer," he got out, the words throttled. His hips slammed up into Aya's as a full-body shudder shook his lean frame. "Aya!"

Hard fingers grasped his other arm and wrenched them both over his head once more. Aya threaded the cuffs over the headboard and snapped the second ring to around Yoji's free wrist.

"Oh, God!" Yoji grated, his arms straining involuntarily against the bonds, hands fisting. His face tightened in an expression of sexual fervor, his back arching. "Aya!!"

Aya fumbled for the bottle he had dropped with fingers that did not want to obey him. He loved the way his name spilled so easily from Yoji's lips, like an entreaty... like a prayer. He was enthralled by the sight of that lithe form pinioned beneath him. The fact that Yoji wanted this as well stole none of the searing heat from the moment -- it only made him that much more eager to lay his claim on the beautiful man before him.

His teammate. His friend. His secret desire -- about to become his reality. His fantasy become truth. And it was sweeter than he had ever imagined.

The lid came off the jar smoothly, as though it was well-used, and yet it was filled to the rim. The scent was masculine, rich and yet subtle; something Aya could not place, but which he immediately connected with Yoji. He knew why Yoji had chosen that particular oil for use as a lubricant.

"Aya." Yoji's voice was a throaty drawl that spoke only of sex, his eyes hooded and burning with stormy lust. "Don't make me wait! Please...?" He shifted in his bonds, the silver chain rattling as it slid against the headboard's bar.

Aya balanced the open bottle carefully in one hand as he leaned over to place a soft, open-mouthed kiss on Yoji's parted lips. The other man's tongue flickered out, questing for Aya's, but he was already straightening and shifting backwards, moving once more to kneel between Yoji's thighs. Yoji spread his legs to either side without a hint of embarrassment.

Aya slid his free hand under one of Yoji's knees, lifting the lean leg up to rest over his shoulder. This was not an awkward position for either of them, since Yoji was somewhat taller and his legs were so very long, and it opened him more readily to Aya's ministrations.

"Aya, hayaku," Yoji urged again, lifting his hips upwards, his smooth knee pressing to the side of Aya's neck.

"Urusai," Aya grumbled. He understood Yoji's sense of urgency -- his own heartbeat was pounding through his hard-on so powerfully he felt in danger of explosion -- but *he* was the one in charge here.

Dipping his fingers into the scented oil, Aya then moved his hand down to trace the tight ring of Yoji's anus. The older man jolted and let out a keening sound, his arms jerking at his bonds. Aya caught his breath, renewing the lubrication and then driving two fingers without hesitation into Yoji's passage. This was no time to be careful or gentle. The heat and suction were incredible, and it was the most Aya could manage that he forced himself to spread some of the oil inside before he replaced his fingers with something much more satisfying... and vital.

Yoji was writhing beneath him, swaying to the beat of Aya's intrusive digits, small sounds of pleading and pleasure breaking from him and flying straight to Aya's aching erection. He could wait no longer.

Pouring out a palmful of the oil, Aya stretched to place the jar carefully on the top of the bedside table, before slathering his hot, hard cock with the slick substance. The touch of his own hand dragged a throttled groan from him, and he did not linger overlong, instead grasping one of Yoji's hips with his free hand, settling himself at the pursed entrance to Yoji's body with the other.

With a guttural grunt, he thrust, feeling the taut muscles stretch and strain about him, forcing his way inside whether Yoji's body was prepared properly for this or not. Beneath him, Yoji yelled loudly, the sound a mangled utterance of his name, containing both agony and triumph. But Aya was only feeling pleasure; the exquisite ecstasy of his flaming hardness being embraced and squeezed with incredible pressure -- surrounded by the silken heat of Yoji's insides.

His rangy hips lunged forward, driving the entirety of his burning cock deeply into Yoji. He groaned, one hand locking on Yoji's bony hip, the oil-slick fingers of his other hand wrapping blindly around the upright column of Yoji's own neglected erection.

As he froze in this position for a few thundering heartbeats, immersed in the sensations, sounds, and scent of Yoji and their shared sex, feeling Yoji's huge hard-on throbbing in his grasp, his sight flickering away into shards of darkness and red sparkings behind lowered lids, Yoji's leg slid down from his shoulder, both lean thighs wrapping about his waist as the older man jolted against him.

"Aya!" It was a mangled cry, uttered as Yoji drove his hips into Aya's ultimate penetration, holding there and grinding in small circles. "Aya!"

Catching his breath, Aya opened his eyes. Yoji was writhing beneath him, his lovely face pulled into taut lines, his arms straining at the silver rings cuffing him to the headboard. He was....

With a loud groan, Aya surged into motion. Bracing his feet and knees on the plush give of the mattress, he proceeded to take Yoji in a series of violent thrusts. He couldn't summon the presence of mind to stroke Yoji off at the same time, but he did not release his grip, and as he felt Yoji's erection jerking and pulsing in his hand, he knew that was not necessary. He rocked Yoji's body with his own, his cock sinking to the root with each forward rotation of his hips -- this was their entire world, and it was all either of them needed.

"Ughn! Yoji!" He pushed onward, seeking to drive them both to the pinnacle that he knew was just in reach. Under him, Yoji cried out repeatedly, his head thrown back, tears once more seeping through thick lashes to mingle with the sweat streaking his beautiful, passion-flushed face. Aya wanted so badly to taste this nectar, but he could not -- Yoji was too tall, and his own position demanded that he remain where he was, half-propped over his lover's sweet body, driving in and out for all he was worth. At most, he might have been able to reach the spreading pattern of bruisings he had brought to the skin of Yoji's neck... but at this moment it was more vital that he bring them both to completion. There was room for no other goal in his lust-hazed mind.

With a sudden, almost startled wail, Yoji stiffened beneath Aya, his legs tightening like a vise as he fired off streamers of sticky come, the stringy white substance spattering his own chest and belly. Aya loosed a sharp cry as Yoji's climax caused the man's anus to convulse, subjecting his driving cock to an incredibly, impossibly tight clasp. It seemed to suck every last coherent thought out of his head, almost seeming intended to suck the seed from his aching testicles. He succumbed to the pressure with another, louder cry, having just enough presence of mind left to let go of Yoji's still throbbing erection before he caused major damage as every muscle in his body tightened. He grabbed a bruising-hard hold of Yoji's hips, holding them immobile while he ground as deeply as he could get, rotating his hips, firing off his own load. As he had so desired, marking Yoji for his own.

With a small, satiated moan, he finally collapsed on Yoji's limp body, his penis slipping free from Yoji's oil- and seed-slick channel, his cheek resting against a sweat-coated collarbone. He could smell the musk of Yoji's semen just below his nose, mingling with the scent of their mutual exertion, and the faint odor of the oil he had used. It was something he felt he had waited his entire life to experience, and even though his cock was now shrinking to flaccidity and his loins were warm and heavy with sexual fulfillment, his mind fuzzy and sleepy, he thought that it could not be too much longer before he wanted to experience it again.

"Anou.... Aya..." Yoji sounded as tired as he felt, but there was a sense of urgency in his voice as well. "Aya?"

"Nn?" Aya didn't want to raise his head. He could have happily fallen asleep right here. But....

"The keys?" There was a clatter of metal that jarred across Aya's hazed senses, jerking him back to wakefulness. Ah. Yes. The cuffs.

"Hai," he said, irritated at being dragged back to reality from the realm of post-coital bliss he had been wallowing in.... But not only did he have to free Yoji's arms -- they both needed a shower in the worst way. As pleasant as it was to savor the fresh scent of Yoji's sweat, of his semen... by the time it had dried, it would be more than a little unpleasant. He hated to move, but a shower *was* sounding more and more attractive with every moment that passed. Aya had always been the fastidious sort.

Rising and disentangling his limbs from Yoji's took more energy than he felt he had after such an intense orgasm, but he managed it, somehow forcing his blurry eyes to focus as he hunted in the drawer for the key Yoji had said would be there. It was, in a cloth-lined box that was obviously meant to hold the cuffs as well, and he loosed Yoji with no more than a small internal twinge.

Yoji sat up, rubbing his abraded wrists -- even though the cuffs had been padded, he had been pulling at them quite forcefully -- and winced slightly. "Ita...."

"Did I hurt you?" Aya asked, replacing the keys, the cuffs, and screwing the lid back onto the bottle of oil before setting it in its designated spot in the drawer.

"Maa." Yoji hooked a lean arm around Aya's neck and drew him in for a short but sweet kiss. Aya allowed this. "Just a little. Let's go take that shower, then get some sleep." He paused, tilting his head. Aya's gaze fastened on the marks he had made on Yoji's neck. They were extensive, and Yoji was going to have to wear turtlenecks for several days. This was not going to please the other man when he realized it, but it gave Aya a sense of accomplishment and strange pride. "Are you staying the night, Aya?" Yoji asked, his voice somehow sounding vulnerable.

Hooded amethyst met heavy-lidded emerald for a long moment. "Hai," Aya answered shortly.

"Ah. Yokatta." Yoji yawned widely, then swung his legs off the side of the bed. "I'm tired of sleeping alone."

"Hn." Aya followed, his body aching with lethargy, but knowing he wouldn't be able to sleep if he didn't get himself clean. "You're going to have to get a bigger bed."

"Oh?" Yoji paused in his path toward the bathroom, peering over his shoulder. Aya froze, hoping Yoji had not misunderstood his intent, that he had not misread Yoji's acquiescence. Then the brunette's lovely face broke into a broad grin. "Maa. I guess you're right. Aya, you paying for half of it?"

Warmth spread through Aya's body, his heart swelling in his chest. "Mochiron," he grunted simply, passing Yoji and pushing the bathroom door open.

Long arms twined about his shoulders, halting him in his tracks, and soft lips pressed to the back of his neck. "Saa, Aya." Yoji's voice was a gentle husk against his flesh. "So, you really want me?"

Aya closed his eyes. It was too late now for turning back. The alcohol had long since left him, burned off in the fever of their passionate love-making. And that was what it had been, even though he was frightened to death to admit it to himself. He and Yoji knew each other too well, had too much at stake, to count this as a one-time, emotionless encounter. Although it was the hardest thing he had ever had to do, Aya had to admit to himself that he didn't just want to possess Yoji. He also... loved....

But that didn't mean he was ready to tell Yoji this... yet. One thing at a time. Right now, all Yoji needed was an answer to his question.

"Yes."

"Nn." Yoji nuzzled the side of Aya's neck, his embrace loose but so warm. "Aya...."

Reaching up, Aya locked his fingers around one thin forearm, giving it a hard tug as he turned. Yoji yelped, pulled off balance, and Aya tangled the fingers of his other hand in that long, chestnut hair. He and Yoji were nose to nose. Violet eyes seared into leaf-green, burning with intensity. "You're mine now, Yoji. You understand that? *Mine*! You belong to me!"

Yoji stared at Aya a moment, seeming shocked, then thick lashes slid down over a heated verdant gaze. "Aa. Wakatta. But, Aya...." A gentle hand lifted to touch the side of Aya's face. "But that means you also belong to me. Ne?"

Aya blinked at Yoji, who had cocked his head to the side and was giving him one of his patented charming smiles.... No. No, this time it was different. Because this time Yoji meant it. His face was an open reflection of his emotions, instead of being a mask to hide behind.

Slowly, Aya smiled back. He hadn't considered it from that angle... but he supposed Yoji had a point. And as long as Yoji knew that Aya was the one in charge....

"Aa."

Yoji gazed at him a little longer, that soft smile still curving his lips. "So, Aya-chan was right!" He tossed back sweat-tangled dark hair. "Na, Aya. Let's take that shower so we can get some sleep!"

Aya examined Yoji's face carefully for a few moments before he nodded. "Aa."

The shower did not take long, as they shared and washed one another's bodies. There were many more bruises than Aya would have thought, cropping up on every part of Yoji's body... and yet he couldn't bring himself to regret any of them. If Yoji was expecting tender feelings and gentle handling from him, he was in for a rude awakening. Although, so far he hadn't expressed any complaints about the violence Aya had inflicted on him....

Perhaps they could make this work after all.... He would hate to prove his imouto wrong.

Settling two full-sized male bodies into Yoji's bed was not as an easy venture, as it really had only been designed for one occupant, but somehow they managed it. And Aya could think of worse ways he could spend the night than pressed up so closely against Yoji that he wasn't sure where his skin ended and the other man's began.

"Oyasumi, Aya." The words were a soft exhalation against the skin of his neck as Yoji curled next to him, arms slung loosely about his chest. Aya allowed one of his own arms to drape possessively over Yoji's shoulders -- he had never been much of a snuggler himself, but with Yoji it felt... natural.

"Oyasumi," he whispered in return and let the warmth of Yoji's body, the clean scent of Yoji's hair, soothe him into sleep.

***

"Ooh, mite, mite! Look, they're all here today!"

"Kawaii~!!"

"Aya-san~!"

"Ken-san~!"

"Today is going to be a lucky day, I know it!"

"Omi-kun~!"

Aya gritted his teeth, keeping a tight reign on his temper. This was one thing that had not changed, and probably never would -- the horde of squealing fangirls that filled the shop to overflowing every afternoon when the schools let out.

It had been a decent enough day so far, in spite of some mild tension between certain of the Weiss members. Aya's had been an opening shift with Ken, so he'd woken Yoji early -- or, at least, Yoji had whiningly complained that it had been early -- for another hot, hard, fast sexual encounter, before heading to his own apartment for a fresh shower and a change of clothing. That had gotten him nice and relaxed, but by contrast, Ken had been twitchy and defensive all morning. Aya had almost entirely forgotten that Ken had been out on a date with Omi the day before, but Ken was obviously still embarrassed at having been caught. Considering that he himself had been buried hip-deep in Yoji's body twice in the last twenty-four hours, Aya didn't feel he had any room to pass judgment, even if he had been so inclined. As far as he was concerned, it was none of his business, as long as it didn't mess up the team dynamics. Just as his own new... er... relationship... with Yoji wasn't anything Ken or Omi needed to know about right now.

But, of course, Ken *didn't* know about that, and he was clearly feeling insecure. While Aya could sympathize, he did not empathize, and Ken's behavior was getting on his nerves.

It had been a definite relief when Yoji had shown up to take over Ken's shift in the store, sending the edgy youth out to make the round of daily deliveries. As expected, Yoji was wearing a turtleneck, though being Yoji, he managed to make it look sexy in spite of the warm May weather. Thin cotton material in a shocking shade of pink, sleeveless, the hem ending just below his ribcage. He hadn't bothered, though, to try hiding the faint marks still ringing his wrists, and it thrilled Aya anew to view them, knowing what they signified.

Yoji had behaved as normally as could be wished, not failing to meet Aya's gaze, with an extra twinkle that made Aya think that he *would* be paying the lanky brunette another visit this evening. Yoji had mentioned nothing of the day before to Ken in the five minutes they had been in the shop together, and neither had Ken -- probably figuring that refraining from teasing Yoji was a fair price to pay to keep Yoji from teasing him.

It had been nice and quiet with just Aya and Yoji in the shop. They had not spoken any more than was necessary to create their arrangements or deal with the custom, but that was all they had needed. Words only got in the way, where there was understanding.

This peace had ended, though, when Ken had returned moments before Omi arrived from school... promptly followed by the regular horde of junior high and high school students.

Ken was even more antsy around Omi, Omi was exasperated with Ken, while casting both Yoji and Aya strange looks from time to time, and they could none of them make any attempt at clearing the air while the shop was filled with squealing females.

Aya felt trapped. True, he could have left at any time, since Omi was here to relieve his shift... but there was a deeply-rooted possessive side to his nature that refused to allow Yoji from his sight. Yoji was his now. Like a child with a new toy, Aya could not put it down and walk away. And since Yoji was stuck in the shop until closing at five and clean-up after, Aya also found he could not bring himself to leave.

If he'd thought shouting would clear the shop of non-customers, he would have done that long ago. But it had never worked in all the years he had been in the Koneko no Sumu Ie -- if anything, it seemed to cause the girls to shrill more loudly. He didn't feel like wasting the breath, or like making a fool of himself.

So he hung around the back, fighting a headache, grateful only that the mass of teenage admirers kept Ken and Omi from asking him why he was still here. Although, he took note that *Ken* had not left either, and his shift had been over the same time as Aya's!

"Konnichi wa, Ran-nii!"

Aya turned from misting the roses as a familiar, cheerful, *welcome* voice sounded above the racket. "Aya-chan." He smiled warmly. Finally, here was someone he was happy to see! Well, aside from Yoji, naturally. "Is cram school already done?" He glanced up at the clock. It was later than he had thought -- they would have to begin shooing the herd out of the store soon and start the cleaning up.

"Hai!" The chestnut-braided girl bobbed her head brightly, her eyes twinkling with mischief. Uh-oh.... Aya knew that look.... "Saa, Ran-nii!" She leaned up on tip-toe, speaking quietly. "You didn't come home last night, did you?"

Aya felt his face burning all the way to the tips of his ears. Here was his imouto standing before him, her face fresh, clean, and innocent, and his night with Yoji had been.... Not that he was ashamed of any of it, of course. But the contrast was so *extreme*, and he really wanted to keep the two aspects of his personal life completely separate -- at least for a while longer. Until he was more comfortable with Yoji, until he knew exactly where it was going. He knew what he wanted right now... he knew what he wanted in the foreseeable future.... But he wasn't sure how to mesh the two most important relationships in his life right now. He couldn't move in with Yoji and leave Aya-chan all alone. Nor could he ask Yoji to move in with them -- even if the older man would, there was no way Aya could fuck Yoji until he screamed with Aya-chan right in the next bedroom! For now it was enough to know he could go over to Yoji's apartment when he chose, to know that Aya-chan was okay with this, but....

"Daijoubu, niichan!" the girl said, her eyes sparkling. She was obviously just happy to know her brother with "with" her adopted brother, and not visualizing *what* they *did* together! And as far as Aya was concerned, this was a *good* thing! "I was perfectly fine last night! Finished my homework and got to bed right on time!"

"Ho?" Aya grinned, letting uncertainty about the future slide away in the warmth of the present. "And was that before or after you called Sakura to talk about your date for an hour?"

"Nii~chan!" Aya-chan reached up to swat her brother's chest in mock outrage, though her eyes were flashing with humor. This was what Aya had missed so badly that he had felt dead inside all the time his imouto had been in a coma. It was what had finally been returned to him. Something he would never, ever take for granted. Every moment was priceless, and yet he had to live them as they came; they could not be manufactured. This was what it was to fully live.

"Aya-chan~!" Suddenly Yoji was draped over the girl's shoulders, lips pressing briefly against her temple through thick bangs. "You here to help us clean up?"

"La! Yoji-nii!" Aya-chan laughed merrily and butted affectionately up against the tall brunette. "Are you going to do my homework for me, then?"

Even Aya had to laugh at the look of horror that crossed Yoji's face as he leapt back, hands raised. "No way! Minna no Kudou Yoji doesn't do homework!"

"Anou... Yoji-kun...." Omi approached the trio with a broom and an apologetic expression.

"Are maa!" Yoji looked around. "Are we done already?"

"Un." Omi nodded. Ken was hefting in the outdoor pots, and their crowd of groupies had been reduced to a line of mournful faces peering in through the front window. "If you can sweep up, Ken-kun and I will take care of the rest. We should be out of here in ten minutes."

"Osh'!" Yoji grasped the broom and set to work with a gusto that was only slightly marred by the same stiffness he had been suffering from all day. Aya smirked as he watched Yoji moved. He knew where that particular gait had come from, and he was looking forward to doing it all over again this evening.

"Let me help!" Aya-chan slung her bookbag over the counter and grabbed a spare apron from the hook before rolling up her sleeves and setting off into the shop she knew as well as her brother or any of the other Weiss members.

As Ken slung down the blinds, not without an evil chuckle as this screened them from the view of the last, lingering groupies, Omi sidled up to Aya. The redhead blinked at the golden-haired youth. Omi looked tired, a bit harried, and strangely nervous. "Nanda?" Aya queried, eyes heavy-lidded.

"Aya-kun...." Omi fidgeted with the hem of his apron, then moved even closer, his voice low. "Anou, Aya-kun...."

One sliver-thin crimson brow rose. "Aa?"

"Do you think...." Omi drew a deep breath. "Do you think you and Yoji-kun might keep it down a little... next time? I hardly got any sleep last night -- or this morning!"

Aya stared blankly into that earnest, pink young face for a moment, trying to figure out what Omi could possibly be talking about. Then realization set in. Of course! Omi's apartment was right next door to Yoji's! The walls were so thin that he had probably heard....

Incredibly, Aya found his mouth curving in a wicked smirk. He didn't feel the faintest inclination to blush or stutter as Omi had been doing. He supposed he ought to feel a hint of embarrassment, but there was none. Only a feeling of rich triumph. "Try wearing headphones," he offered. "Or spend the night with Ken."

Omi's baby-blue eyes flew wide, more color flooding his full cheeks. "Mou~!! Aya-ku~n!!"

Aya patted Omi on the head as he strode past him -- even though he knew the young man hated such condescending gestures -- then moved off to coil up the hose, leaving Omi to count out the till.

Aya-chan was teasing Ken about something, their light laughter filling the small shop. Yoji was leaning on his broom, blissfully lighting his first cigarette since noon. Omi was glaring at Aya, but then with a heavy sigh, he rang open the register.

Aya smiled. This was nothing like what he had expected his life to be four years ago, and yet it was something he would not give up for the world -- something he would fight to keep.

"Aya!" Yoji tossed back his mane of silken chestnut hair as he stripped off his soil-stained apron. "You ready to go?"

"Ken-kun, come help me with the paperwork in the back," Omi ordered, giving the dark-haired young man a significant Look.

"But, Omi, you know I hate paperwork! And I suck at it!" Ken whined. "Why would I--?!"

"Just go!" Yoji hissed, planting a hand between Ken's shoulderblades and shoving him hard toward the blushing blonde youth.

Ken staggered, obviously ready to turn and light into Yoji, when his gaze fell on Omi's wide, wobbling blue eyes. Understand struck him like a thunderbolt -- the smoke nearly visible to watching eyes -- and he flushed brightly, babbling out something that could have been an apology, or agreement, or who-knew-what, as Omi rolled his eyes and trotted off into the back with a last wave for the two older members of Weiss and Aya-chan.

Aya shook his head as Ken stumbled after Omi, and pulled off his apron. Honestly, Omi had his work cut out for him! He wished the boy well, while being extremely grateful that he was not in his place!

He was beyond ready to leave the shop for the day. Whether he went with Aya-chan or whether he went with Yoji, he knew he would be happy. And this knowledge was a glorious, almost frightening thing.

"Niichan!" Aya-chan slung her arm through his, hooking the other about Yoji's elbow. "Yoji-nii is treating us to dinner! Iku wa yo!"

A slow smile curved Aya's lips and his eyes met emerald-green twinkling over his sister's braided head. "Sou kai?"

"Aa!" Yoji grinned. "Just so long as I get a kiss goodnight!" He winked broadly, pretending not to hear Aya-chan giggling between them.

"I think we can arrange that," Aya deadpanned, though his own amethyst eyes were glowing with affection, amusement... and dark promise.

"Let's go! I'm starving!" Aya-chan dragged them forward, leaving Ken and Omi to lock up.

And outside, a beautiful evening opened up before them.