Disclaimer: Weiß boys belong to Takehito Koyasu and Project Weiß. The rest belongs to Gwendolyn Flight & Scribblemoose.
This is the second of a pair of teasers for a fic we're writing together, called World Curled Dark, which will also be archived at our shared website,
www.scarletseduction.info. There's a contest there too, go look :)*************************************************************
World Curled Dark teaser 2~ Yohji
Yohji took pride in the fact that he could manage to smoke and shower at the same time. It was a useful skill, not least because it was one of the few places in the apartment where he could smoke indoors without Ran or Ken glaring at him. Not that their opinion stopped him much, but it took away some of the pleasure, and Yohji really enjoyed smoking.
So he leaned his back into the hot blast of water, bracing himself with one hand flat against the tile in front of him, the other holding his cigarette close to the extractor fan, watching it suck out the smoke he didn't need in blue clouds amid the steam. Then he brought it to his lips, damp but still lit and sucked hard, pulling deep into his lungs.
Of course Ran always noticed somehow, and usually complained, one way or the other. But he wasn't here right now. Yohji blew a few lazy smoke rings to celebrate that fact, before he realised that actually, there would be advantages to Ran being there.
His cock twitched.
Especially a naked Ran, all hot and slinky and not complaining about anything.
He froze, cigarette half way to his lips.
Like that would ever happen. Unless.
Damn. His cigarette had been drowned by a ricochet of water from the tile. Yohji sighed regretfully, dropped the soggy stub down the drain, and put his head under the spray, reaching for shampoo as the water plastered his thick hair to his head. He lathered quickly, keen to get the stinging stuff out of his eyes and get back to enjoying the massage of hot water over his naked body.
And maybe another cigarette.
He tipped his head back, rinsing his hair, feeling water and foam run down his body. Irresistibly, his hand snaked between his legs, wrapping around his cock, stroking lazily, half washing, half caressing, enjoying the feel of it in his hand. It was already hard.
He smiled to himself. If there was one thing Yohji enjoyed more than smoking, it was sex. Preferably sex with another person, but sex was sex, and if there was no-one else available he was more than happy to take his own pleasure. He leaned into the water, fingers of one hand splayed over his chest while the other teased sensitive skin, his fist a loose tunnel over his erection. He searched his mind for a fantasy, an idea, a thought, the right one for that particular moment: like choosing the right shirt for a date, or the right flower for a gift. It wasn't always the obvious one. Like the arrangement Ran had done for a wedding that time, a long time ago now, when he was Aya and never really seemed to think of such things. The girl
had wanted yellow carnations, to go with the table decorations, she said; but Aya had insisted, by refusing to even discuss the issue, on orange blossom and white roses. It turned out as one of his best arrangements, and the girl was delighted. It amused Yohji, that for someone who'd taken floristry as a route to revenge, Ran was very good at it. But then, the man was like that. He either did things to perfection, or he didn't do them at all.
It must be intolerable, Yohji thought, to try to live up to perfection. No wonder Ran was finding it so hard to care for Aya-chan. In a sudden flash of insight, Yohji understood a little of what Ran had told him that morning. Of how impossible it was for him to be a perfect brother, a perfect guardian: hard enough for anyone as young as Ran, who had lived without family himself for so long, but completely impossible when your soul was stained with blood and killing. And oh, the aching irony of it, that he'd been brought to that state of sin for no reason other than to care for his sister.
It was easier for Yohji. He expected little of himself, except to protect and care for those who were vulnerable, and those he loved. God knows, he thought, that's hard enough. Especially when the people you cared about didn't let you help them. Like Ran.
Only, not anymore, Yohji realised. That morning, Ran had come to him, and asked him for help.
God. He really had.
He remembered the look on Ran's face, the desperation, all the questions in his eyes that couldn't get as far as his words.
He remembered long, pale fingers, streaking through crimson hair.
Suddenly, he had an image he could really work with.
The part of Yohji that had been enjoying the stroke of his hand on his cock all this time, regardless of what else he might have been thinking about, reasserted itself fiercely, dominating his mind with a flash of lust. It was so powerful that he had no difficulty in pushing any contemplation of his emotions swiftly to one side, and surrendered to the memory of Ran, vulnerable, open and needing him.
And beautiful. So, so beautiful: all that strength wrapped up in porcelain skin and graceful movement. Yohji contemplated what that skin might feel like to touch, not the brief squeeze of solidarity to a team-mate's
shoulder, but lingering contact of lover's fingers on bare flesh. He recalled a patchwork of memories of Ran, and before Ran, Aya, surprised by the wealth of secrets his mind had hidden away: the exact colour and texture of Ran's skin when he'd stitched his torn flesh after missions; the golden play of sunlight across his shoulders when he'd come out of the shower wrapped in a towel; the ripple of muscles slicing curved blade; the soft hand around Aya-chan's, comforting her after a nightmare... memories that Yohji had thought meant no more than friendship filled him with hot desire; he stretched his body and gloried in it, pulling steadily on his cock, biting his lip to keep from crying out.
Then the hair, and the eyes, of course: crimson and lavender, fire and crystal. And his mouth, soft and wet. Yohji's imagination asserted itself over his memory, making the leap from aesthetics to carnality, and wrapped that perfect mouth around Yohji's sex, taking him all down, red hair splashed over Yohji's tight, golden thighs.
Yohji roared as he came, unable to stop himself even if he had been aware of the noise, mind blanked with surprise and searing pleasure.
He slumped against the shower wall, absently licking threads of white from his fingers, stretching sensuously; eventually his breath returned and his heartbeat slowed enough that his brain started to think again, albeit still drunk with afterglow.
He opened his eyes, submitting to the return of reality.
He needed to do some thinking. But not now. Not yet.
Yohji sighed with the satisfaction of the moment. For now, he felt warm, his skin tingled and his balls were humming pleasantly. He felt damn good.
He stuck one hand out of the shower to rummage in the pile of clothes and towels on the floor. He was vaguely aware of Ken's voice outside, telling him to hurry up, but Ken was easily ignored.
Yohji smiled as he let the water caress his glowing skin, and lit another cigarette.
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This is a companion to the first teaser, already posted here, or you can catch it now at scarlet seduction, in the 'our fiction' section.
This is a whole new experience for us, so feedback would be especially helpful, here or by email (
ravensnest@scarletseduction.info) thanks! ^_^