Yes, I know it's cliche and trite and probably a thousand other things you could think of, not to mention unfinished at the moment, when in all certainty it was to be a one-shot.. *shrugs* Oh well... Perhaps if I get inspired I'll finish it, but definitely not if no one's even interested.
Oh yes, and the little 'talk' about halfway through was inspired by a visit to a site that had character profiles plus the site maker's thoughts on all the characters. They had a point about Omi's point of view on his two 'jobs' that really made a lot of sense-- basically, that Omittchi seems to regard both as the same thing; a job, and nothing more. Working at the flower shop is just as important to him as working in WeiB.
They also seemed to think that Omi-kun was a bit off his rocker, but that certainly didn't play into this fic. =P
Pairings: KenXOmi, implied Youji+Ran(Aya)
Warnings: Unfinished, shounenai, perhaps yaoi later, slight angst, fluff enough to make any sane person retch, uber-sugar-sappiness, so cliched that it makes me wince... Might as well run away now, before you get infected. Or sick. Or both.
OVERPROTECTIVE AND OUT-OF-SORTS
He was irritated.
Not 'glare-and-fume' type irritated. It wasn't even 'stomp-your-foot-and-storm-away, slamming-a-few-doors-as-you-go' irritated. No, this was 'scream-and-throw-yourself-onto-a-bed, throwing-a-magnificent-tantrum, with-flailing-arms-and-legs' annoyed.
Omi settled for dragging his short fingernails against the checkout counter, creating the most horrible screeching noise, and glaring heatedly, or as heatedly as someone like him could get, at the back if his offender. He was, after all, in the presence of a horde of screaming fangirls, who could get the very wrong idea. He didn't want to scare off any potential customers, now would he?
In fact, maybe he already had. Omi cast a nervous glance around him. Good; no one seemed to have noticed his unwarranted act of violence.
"Oi! Bishounen!"
No one, that is, except Youji.
Omi breathed out in a silent sigh and turned to face the older man. "Hai, Youji-kun?" Behind his energetic smile, his chipper voice gave no signs of his current inner turmoil.
From where he was surrounded by female adult fans and a few not-quite-eighteen-year-olds cooing over his suaveness, the blond man raised one graceful eyebrow at Omi, as if he suspected some two-faced plot.
Omi kept smiling. Under the jade scrutiny, however, he couldn't help a furtive glance towards the aforementioned transgressor.
A casual green gaze followed his own, to the middle of a commotion that had become all-too-familiar these past few days.
Youji smirked, but Omi's return glower was interrupted by a warm hand being placed comfortably over his own, slightly-twitching, fist. So. Ken had returned from forcibly kicking out another couple of customers.
"Omi." At his name coming from Ken's lips in just that gentle tone of voice, however, the short blond almost forgot his irritation.
"I got rid of them for you, Omittchi."
Almost.
"Ken-kun..." his lips thinned, but when he glanced up into Ken's hopeful face, he fairly melted at the sight of all the love, trust, and devotion in those blue-green eyes.
"Omi..." Ken gazed right back at him, smiling shyly.
An annoyingly smooth chuckle broke their fluffy moment.
It was Youji, of course. Somehow he had succeeded at ridding himself of the ever-present, Hyperventilation-Over-Kudou-Youji fanclub, and was even now resting his elbows on the marble countertop, head comfortably in his palms. The blond grinned slyly at the two, winking over his tinted sunglasses at an indignant Omi.
"I guess you've forgiven him, naa, Pretty Boy?"
Ken stared blankly at the older youth, oblivious to Omi wrenching his hand out from underneath the brown-haired youth's own. "Forgiven who?" His eyes narrowed, and he glanced semi-suspiciously between Omi and Youji. "Omi, has someone been making passes at you again?"
The athlete didn't seem to hear the blue-eyed youth's vehement 'No!', as Ken immediately turned and scanned the inhabitants of the flower shop with a critical eye, muttering what Youji could have sworn was something like 'Damn ecchi fangirls...' under his breath.
Omi failed to mention to his boyfriend that none of the other girls Ken had so enthusiastically kicked out of the store throughout the past few days since they had hooked up had been 'making passes' at him, either.
The dark-haired boy's gaze soon latched suspiciously on a customer approaching the counter with a bouquet of lilies. She smiled at Omi when the boy moved to ring up her purchase, but that expression faded a bit as Ken stepped quickly in front of her, blocking her way and causing her to glance at him in surprise.
"Hold it. He's been through enough trouble today as it is, I don't think he needs any more from you."
"Ken-kun! She's a customer!"
The girl stared up at him, puzzled, then held up her flowers, as if it would somehow buy her passage. "But... I was just going to--"
Ken blinked at her, then grinned a bit sheepishly and glanced at Omi, whose eyes were narrowed dangerously. Making a quick decision, he vaulted over the counter and smoothly took his lover's place at the register, nodding at Omi. "Omi, why don't you go work on some of the flower arrangements while I take over here for you?" Ken gave Omi a bright smile before he turned back to the customer, who was blinking confusedly at him.
The blonde youth looked about to protest, but settled for a reluctant retreat to where Youji had found himself another comfortable spot to lean up against the wall. The taller blond snorted at his comrade's antics and cast a half-lidded glance at the smaller boy. "...You should tell him that it annoys you."
Omi allowed himself a small but vehement shake of his head. "No. He's only doing it because he loves me." Those last two words held a touch of affectionate surprise in them, but the statement was true nonetheless.
"And so you want him to show you like that?" Youji smirked when his words elicited an immediate, slight dusting of crimson across the Omi's cheeks and the bridge of his nose.
"Not... not exactly...." The younger boy broke off at the sight of the expression on Youji's face-- the expression that said, in not so many words, that the taller blond could things of so many other ways that Ken could show Omi that he loved him, and most of them much more 'exciting', to boot. "Youji-kun! Not like that!" Omi glanced away sharply, and found himself watching Ken waving the girl the older youth had tried to 'protect' him from just minutes earlier out of the shop. "I just don't want to hurt his feelings, all right?"
Youji gave him a look. "Your choice, Bishounen. However..." he trailed off, looking thoughtful. "...Ken's a hot-head, but he's not stupid. I think he'd understand and not be hurt."
Omi sniffed, a bit hurt that Youji would presume to know Ken better than he himself did, and finding himself feeling a bit irate at everything in the world at that moment. "Ooh, what would you know, anyway? He's not your boyfriend, is he?" He turned and stomped off, annoyed at himself for acting and sounding like an over-emotional teenage girl and for talking to Youji like he had, but too worked up to apologize for it right then.
"Oi, Omi!"
Omi ignored Ken's confused outburst and was halfway to the door that lead to their apartments upstairs before he froze at the sound of Youji's slyly confident tone.
"Ah, Omittchi, I almost forgot; I got my film back from the shop today."
Ken was amazed at how fast Omi whirled and ran to Youji, eyes wide with... fright? anxiety? dread?... as he stared at the small envelope in Youji's slim grasp.
"Now," and this time the tall blond directed his comment to everyone in the shop, smirk ever-present on his face. "Who wants copies? I have a special picture for all you lackeys of the Pretty Boy that I think you'd all like to see."
"Youji-kun... You wouldn't..." Omi's voice was plaintive, and he tried to snatch the pictures out of Youji's hands to no avail, as the taller youth just held them above his reach. "Youji-kun~!" Omi tried again to get his hands on the pictures, amidst surprised outbursts of 'What is it?', 'More Omi pictures!', 'Oh, Omi-kun is so cute~!', 'What could it possibly be?', and 'Maybe it's a picture of his Girlfriend! *hissangerspite*'.
From where he stood behind the counter, Ken stared, surprised and a bit confused at the antics of his blond boyfriend, and becoming increasingly irritated at the lithe blond who was teasing his poor Omi. "Oi! Youji! Cut it out and give him the whatever-it-is he wants, already!"
With a sly smile and the most curious look on his face, Youji did so, and Omi immediately snatched the small bundle, holding it to him protectively as he all but ran from the shop, bright red up to his ears. His exit was met with the saddened cries of half the customers in the shop.
*****
Breathing heavily from his sprint up the stairs to the hallway, Omi burst into his room in a flurry of motion, slamming the door behind him and flinging the picture envelope onto his unmade bed. He stood staring at the seemingly innocent-looking packet for a long moment that he used to catch his breath, before he threw himself down into the nearest chair and stared at it a bit longer.
That was way too close back there...
Curiosity got the better of him in the end, though, and after a moment of strained silence he stood and made his way to the bed, reaching and picking up the pictures.
The first photograph that was revealed upon opening surprised him a bit, as it was a snapshot of Aya, looking calm and collected as always.
FLIP
The next was also of Aya, this one seemed to have been taken right after a mission, however, for that dark trench coat was stained even darker with human blood.
FLIP-FLIP-FLIP
And on and on. Almost every single shot was of Aya Fujimiya, all of them looking like he hadn't even known his picture was being taken. In fact, he probably hadn't.
When Youji had announced one hot morning in July that he was going to take up photography as a sort of second-side-job-slash-hobby, Omi hadn't been expecting anything like this.
FLIP
Omi's eyes widened at the sight of the next and second-to-last shot, although he had been expecting it. Like all the others, this was taken no-pose, but this one was of himself-- and of Ken. It had been taken on a dark night scant but a few days ago, an hour or two after a mission, in a park near the flower shop. Omi had seen spots for minutes after the flash actually went off.
*****
A Few Days Prior...
The cool night air brushed softly against Omi's face as he sat comfortably on the grass beneath his favorite tree, legs pulled to himself and arms wrapped securely around his knees. He sighed as he ran his gaze over the surrounding area of the park, deserted at this time of night. So peaceful... Nothing here but him and nature...
Behind him, the crunch of leaves underfoot brought him to his senses, and he blinked. Who could be there now...?
"...Bombay?" came a slightly hesitant voice, as if afraid of disturbing him. Omi jerked, stiffening unintentionally. Ken.
Ken saw his younger comrade become rigid, and paused. "Omi?"
A pause. Just before he turned to go back the way he had come, the blond head turned towards him, eyes shining in the darkness. "Hai, Ken-kun? What is it you wanted?"
Ken ignored the question and approached Omi, easing himself down the ground next to the blond and leaning comfortably back on his arms, legs splayed in front of him. When Omi did not venture to make idle conversation, the brown-haired youth decided to start. He had something he needed to say, and now was as good a time as any. But, more importantly, Omi had something on his mind, something that would eat him up from inside if he didn't talk about it. Ken was determined to make the little blond talk.
"...Cold out here isn't it?"
"Mm," was all the reply Omi allowed himself. Ken had intruded on his quiet place, and if Omi being less chipper than usual bugged the older boy, he could just deal with it.
"...Omi?"
The blond sighed and turned his head to look at Ken. "What is it, Ken?"
"...Why?"
One word. One word was all he needed, and that was all Ken gave him. Omi gazed at the athlete, eyes smiling a bit sadly.
"Because, Ken-kun. Because no one understands. Because I don't quite understand. Because I don't... because I don't feel anything. You feel guilty, right, for killing all those people?" At Ken's short, quick nod, he continued. "I don't. That's the thing. And now I feel I should feel remorse, guilt, but I don't. They were Bad, Ken-kun, and I can't feel remorse for getting rid of Bad people. Persia says that's the way it's supposed to be, but it makes me wonder..." He cut off, shivering, and was surprised when a something warm and smelling faintly of lilac, cinnamon, and a small amount of blood fell onto his shoulders. Ken's leather jacket.
"Ken-kun..."
"You're cold," was the brown-haired athlete's immediate, simple response, and he left it at that.
Omi swallowed, throat choked for a long moment. "Ken-kun... I..."
"--You feel bad, right? When people who weren't supposed to die, in the newspaper and the news, do? You get that feeling that they should have led long and healthy lives, instead of having the breath taken from them so quickly and so early?"
Omi could barely manage a nod, confused.
"Then you aren't. Whatever you wonder, whatever you think you are, you aren't, Omi. And as for nobody understanding you--" he trailed off, looking uncertain.
"We should be going. It's getting late." Omi stood abruptly, but was pulled back by the unrelenting grip Ken had somehow gotten on his wrist.
"...I'd like to."
The blonde caught his breath. "What did you--"
"I said I'd like to. Understand you." Ken pulled him back down towards him, unresisting as Omi now was. "Omi..."
"Ken-kun... you... I..."
"Omi... I think I might be in love..." Ken trailed off as their lips came closer to each others, feeling Omi's warm, sweet breath ghosting across his face. He saw the blond's eyes begin to slide shut, and allowed his to do so as well...
FLASHSNAP
"Ah, finally, one for the scrapbook. And perhaps I'll make copies for al those underage fangirls that you two seem to attract by the dozens, ne?"
"Youji-kun! Have you been there the whole time?"
"Well... yes, actually. I was hoping tonight might have ended up this way. All that prodding must have finally bypassed Ken's denseness."
"You! I am not dense! Come here! I'll kick your sorry ass!"
"Now, now. Don't want to upset the Pretty Boy, do we, Ken-kun?"
"You--!"
*****
Omi's reminiscing was interrupted by a tentative knock on his door, before it was opened slightly to reveal Ken standing in the entrance, carrying a tray.
"Omi? I made some food. Are you hungry?"
"Oh... Sure. Thank you, Ken-kun." Omi waved the chocolate-haired boy in as he set the pictures down on his lap, and Ken gladly obliged, closing the door firmly behind him as he entered. He set the tray carefully down on a desk next to Omi's bed before gracelessly sitting himself down next to where the blond had found himself a seat.
"Omi? Is something bothering you?"
"...No, Ken-kun. Everything's fine." He graced the athlete with a bright smile. "I was just embarrassed because Youji-kun really did develop that picture."
Ken blinked at him. "What picture?"
Omi snorted, holding said picture up and trying to fight the blush that threatened to rise to his cheeks. "This one, you dummy."
"Oh." Ken reached out and gently took the photograph from his small hands, examining it thoroughly, even turning it over to glance at the back of it. "Hey-- what's this? There's something written on the back!"
And in fact, there was. Written there, in Youji's sprawling handwriting, were the words: "I showed some friends of mine/My favorite photograph/You know the one of you and me from way back./And when I told them all/That you were not my guy/They couldn't see it, couldn't understand why.
Have fun, you two! ~Youji"
Omi could feel his face heating up. "He planned this all along!"
From behind him, he could feel Ken nod. "Looks like it. Where'd he get the words from? Sounds like some sort of song or poem or something..." He broke off, whistling lowly. "Whoa..."
"What is it? What's wrong?"
Ken chuckled. "Looks like Playboy has an Aya fetish."
The blond nodded silently, looking at the different pictures. "Actually, it's more like an obsession, I would think..."
"Obsession?"
Omi barely contained the shiver that Ken's warm breath gusting against the shell of his ear elicited. "Mm-hm..."
They stayed like that in a companionable silence for quite some time, until Omi shifted. "Ken-kun? I'm sorry for running out..."
"Of the flower shop earlier?" His boyfriend's voice was dulled with sleep. "Dun w'rry 'bout it... Yer shift w's... 'lmost over... 'nyway... Just..." he trailed off, mouth on the back of Omi's neck.
"Just what, Ken-kun? Ken-kun?" His only response was a small snore. Ken had fallen asleep. On him.
Omi sighed, then smiled gently and shifted to lie down, pulling Ken's unresisting body with him. This was perfect, but... Ken seemed to think that he was made of wound glass sometimes... Like he would break at any given moment, given the motivation, like these past three days....
*****
TBC... Maybe.
*raises eyebrow slowly* C&C, anyone?
And yes, I've always thought Ken and Omi would get together before Yohji and Aya ever would, given the circumstances and each individual personality. Feel free to debate the point with me if you like. I like seeing all sides of things.