Disclaimer: I do not own Weiss Kreuz, the characters, or any other
copyrighted things I may happen to mention in this chapter or others that
are obviously owned by other people other than me. I own nothing.
A/N: Yay for my first Weiss Kreuz fanfiction! I am excited, are you? ^_~ Enjoy the Ken+Omi goodness.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I don't think I ever realized this before.
It's funny how the most obvious things are always the ones that find you last. It's like the soccer game you miss on TV . . . no. . . no, it's not like that at all. Well it is in the sense that it's something you knew was there, but . . . You know what? It's probably just me.
I'm really not good with words, and I'm always pretty oblivious to everything around me. This proves that for sure.
I never looked at him that way before. I'm just his friend. Friends. Geez. I've been such an idiot all these years. I never used to look at him that way, but now I realize that slowly I was falling in lov - . . . no!!! There is no way I'm falling in love! Just because his smile is enough to twist my stomach into a million nervous knots doesn't mean anything more than that I was having a particularly nervous day.
And yet, ever since Youji teasingly brought up my friendship with Omi as 'maybe something else', I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. I find myself doing dirty, Yotan-like things that I would have never done if he hadn't brought it up! Like . . . like just now when Omi dropped that floppy disk while he was trying to find the right one to take out of his pocket and bent over to pick it up. . . I found myself staring. . .
Needless to say I politely excused myself, flustered with a raging blush to take a walk in the nice, crisp fall air. I can testify to saying that the temperature is a little more than 'crisp'. That's good, though, because it's calming me down a little, but my heart is still racing a mile a minute. Omi doesn't deserve to be looked at like that. I'm such a jerk!
Just him being around has been driving me insane for the past few days.
I hope Youji's happy.
" . . . "
Okay, so I'm happy too . . . and I think I have a stupid lovesick grin on my face right now, but I'm not anxious to check.
I have no right to love him. Heck, I don't have the right to be his friend. If I get too close, he'll just end up like everyone else who's ever been this close to me. I know that I always have trouble when I open myself up to much; allow myself to trust. That's what caused Kase's death. . . Of course I'm not saying that Omi isn't trustworthy! I'd trust him with my life, whether you think that's foolish or not, it's true.
I know that Omi feels the same way, well, about the trusting part, at least, but if we keep going on like this, one of us is liable to get hurt. I'd do anything to make sure that person is me and not him. I think he realizes this too.
Lately he's been pushing me away, and I know that's because we've gotten to be better friends and he's afraid of losing me, or losing himself by caring for me too much. It's dangerous to be close to anyone in this profession.
We don't go out shopping together anymore. I think I miss that the most. Omi would always smile and ask me what kind of crackers I liked, or asking me to get things off higher shelves that he couldn't reach. It's hard to believe that I was turned-on while we were doing things like trying to find the bread isle. . . He never asks me to come with him anymore. The other day, he wouldn't even stay home at night with me when Youji and Aya were off on a mission together. I would have left him alone. It hurt when Omi said he had to 'meet a friend' . . . when I know he just wanted to get away from me.
I can never touch him. That's what kills me, when he's just sitting two feet away. It hurts when he puts his hand on mine to say that everything's fine, and his hands are so soft I want to so kiss them so badly. . .
But I can't . . . And I won't!
He's my friend.
He would hate me . . .
I am content like this, just so long as I can be near him. Or at least that's what I thought until Yoji had to bring 'that' up. Damn dirty mind. . . I'm not usually like this, I swear!
It's really cold out here; colder than the human icicle. That's Aya, I mean. He and Youji have been acting really strange lately. I'm just mentioning them now because I see them in Aya's car coming around the street corner. I'm not surprised they left the Sevens. . . it must be freezing in there without a top. I guess impractical cars are made for impractical people. It's nice to know they're concerned, but Omi isn't with them.
Not that I suspected him to be there of course, it's just. . .
"Yo! Kenken," The window next to me rolls down as Yoji calls out through the slowing car. I kept walking.
"Get in, you idiot. I'm no doctor, but you're gonna catch a cold if you stay out here too long without a proper jacket." I frowned at him, "Oi, what is with this guy?" He asked himself, "Aya, stop the car." He did.
Yikes. Yoji looks pissed. Well, either that, or he's thinking of several various ways to humiliate me on the spot and it has him in deep concentration. This is not a good start to a Saturday. Did I wake him up or something . . . ? Aya rolled up the window after Youji got out, so I'm pretty much convinced the only purpose Aya had in coming here was Chauffer. At least he wouldn't be able to hear our conversation if Yotan was outside with me.
"Okay, Ken. Spill."
"Spill what?"
"The beans."
"What beans?" I asked innocently, continuing to walk, hands clasped protectively around my soccer ball.
"The beans in your head that possessed you to sing 'hit me baby one more time' in the shower this morning," I blanched. That was not meant to be heard. "Aha! Hit a nerve did I? So, seriously, Ken, if you've got the hots for someone, let me know." He winked, "I'll hook you up."
I blushed as I thought about Omi. Great; just great. If it wasn't enough that my friendship with Omi has been jeopardized, Youji's suspicious. Well, he is my other best friend, so I don't know why I want to keep this a secret. I mean, it's not like he doesn't know I like guys. He does too. I should know. The first time we met, he tried to hit on me.
Omi is a different case altogether, of course.
"I appreciate your concern, but I'm not interested in having my love life train-wrecked before I even have one."
"Ouch. That's harsh, Kenken." He made a face, "It hurts." He pointed sarcastically to his heart, "Right here."
"Shut up, Kudou," I growled.
. . . And when Ken Hidaka growls, it's seriously time to back off. I'm glad Youji understands at least that much.
"Fine. I won't say another word, but just know that I've got your back. Omi's kinda worried about you too, because you left so abruptly. You have a really bad habit of doing that, and it usually doesn't mean good news."
"You're a bit talkative for someone who 'won't say another word'." I smiled weakly, white breath rolling off my tongue in the frigid air, still angry, but it's hard to stay angry at Youji for too long when he's being so agreeable. He's not always so agreeable, mind you.
"And -you're- a bit hot-headed for someone who claims he's in love."
"Yeah, I guess you have a point. . ." I stopped mid-sentence, "Hey! I never said I was in love!"
"You did just now." Youji grinned, shivering at the cold before running his fingertips through his hair, "I am just too good at this . . . . Now get in the damn car before we both freeze our asses off."
"I hate you." I scowled.
"You do now." The man said cunningly as he opened the door, "But you'll thank me later."
Yeah, whatever. Youji can really cheat Schuldig out of his job sometimes. He's better at messing with minds than anyone I've ever seen. . . including that Nazi. Or it could just be that I'm easy to mess with. Either way, I'm pretty sure my Saturday just got worse. I just pray that Youji won't try anything funny. Maybe since I'm nice and coming home with him instead of going out and getting drunk, he'll cut me some slack . . . okay, never mind, this is Yotan we're talking about. The only thing we can do is pray.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
No, I'm not looking at Omi. Okay, so I'm -trying- not to look at Omi, but it's not working. He's just so cute when he's typing on the computer, even if I only see his back.
The good thing about backs is that they don't smile. When Omi smiles I completely melt, and even though that goes completely unnoticed to him, I know it won't go unnoticed by a certain Youji Kudou who has been following me around for two friggin' hours and is currently pretending to be absorbed in a book.
You know what? If I don't start doing something besides staring at Omi's back I'm really going to look suspicious. . .
That's it! Aya's newspaper! That's harmless enough, and it'll give me a cover. Just be casual, Ken; casual.
Damnnit! I dropped the newspaper. So much for 'casual'. . .
Now Youji's looking at me funny. I drop things all the time, why is he looking at me funny? Is it my hair? My expression? . . . . . . . . . oh. It might be the fact that I'm holding the newspaper upside down.
. . . But I can't turn it right side up right now because then Aya, who is currently walking right into the room, would know that I actually have been reading a newspaper that is upside down for a full five minutes! Man this is so confusing! What if Yoji says something? What if Omi turns around?! Why am I getting so freaked out? I'm sweating so much that some of the ink is rubbing off on my fingers. Okay, so it always does that, it's only that he's cute, no, he's hot and cute, and his ass is so tight and . . .
"Ken?"
"AHHH!" I jumped, "Aya, don't scare me like that!!!!"
"Umm. . . I just thought I should point out that you're reading the newspaper upside down."
"Eh heh," I laughed nervously, sweating profusely, I'm sure of it now, "You see. . . . I was just. . ."
"Nevermind. I don't want to know." I can't believe he's walking away. Just after interrupting me like that. I can't even think of a good comeback! Man, I'm such an idiot! And as if it weren't enough, Youji's over there snickering. But I can almost smile at that, while resisting the urge to beat him senseless. What really hurts is that Omi isn't even turning around.
He must really think I'm an idiot. Why else would he completely ignore that whole scene? Well, he's a genius, so I must just look like a dumb jock. He'd be right. I can't ever compare to him, which is why I don't even deserve to be his friend. I've known that for too long, and yet somehow he always used to hang around me. Not recently, though. . . .
'Now you've done it, Ken' I can hear my inner conscience telling me, 'you knew you didn't have a chance with Omi before, but now you don't for sure.'
. . . This would be the part where I curse myself and stomp out of the room, except that would make me even more idiotic. I can't even get some fresh air because Youji would follow me all the way to the other side of the country if I decided that's where I was going. I really don't want to face him right now, well, not the horny Youji. I really need my best friend Youji right now.
Glancing over there at that giggling mess behind a copy of 'Great Expectations', I realize it would probably be best if I just went and made dinner or something.
No one spoke as I left the room, so I guess that's a good sign, but I heard Yoji stop laughing. When I'm not angry, it's not funny anymore. Somehow, I don't get that. I slammed a pot on the counter and looked around the kitchen for an apron.
Well, I guess my Koneko apron is going to have to do this time . . . so long as I don't get it covered in tomato sauce or something, Aya won't bite my head off. Well, either way I don't think he'd literally 'bite my head off', but you never know.
Where the heck is that cooking book? Ah. Here.
Lessee. . . spaghetti? Nah. Omi doesn't like that. . . or chicken either. What else can I make? Hmm. Think. Think. Great, now I sound like Winnie the Pooh. Isn't there anything I can make in this book? No. I keep flipping through these stupid pages, and they either sound gross, impossible to make, or Omi doesn't particularly like them. . . I probably shouldn't worry about what Omi likes or not because there's no way anything I cook will help things between us, but somehow I enjoy it when someone . . . well, when someone I love enjoys something that I've done.
Pancakes!
That's it! Pancakes! Omi loves pancakes! To hell with traditional dinners; I'm going to make one baddass breakfast. So, smiling slightly, now, I reach inside the kitchen drawer to find the spatula when there's a sudden feather- light hand bringing warmth to my shoulder. I turn around, and it's almost like looking into the face of an angel. I can't breathe; much less speak.
It's like I have something caught in my throat and my entire brain shuts down to let my heart speed up. I have no authority to tell my body what to do. I'm only at the mercy of his touch, and I can only barely hear what he has to say through the emotions that strangle my ears and my heart.
"Ken-kun?" Omi looked at me with concern.
"Oh, uh. . . hi Omi"
( -I'm falling. . . - )
"What's wrong?" He stepped closer, and I stepped backward, letting his hand fall off my shoulder. It was driving me insane, as much as I wanted it to stay there, I was too afraid that I'd lose control.
"What do you mean? I'm fine. Just making dinner early so we can save it for later," I grinned, rubbing my hand behind my head nervously. What are you doing to me Omi?
( -. . . In love . . .- )
"Ken-kun," the angel smiled, taking my hand and the spatula with it, leaning slightly into the space dividing us, "It's not even your turn to cook. Let me help you."
"I'm fine, really, Omi. You can leave it to me." I blushed at his touch. The way he leans forward like that makes me turn my head to the side. If I look him straight on I'm liable to do something I might regret.
(- . . . with you- )
Omi looked at the spatula. God he's adorable when he looks puzzled. Suddenly it was as if a light bulb appeared above his head, and he looked bouncily excited. "You're making pancakes, Ken-kun?!"
"Yeah, glad you noticed. I know you like them," I said, smiling as I moved over to grab the bag of flour from one of the higher cupboards.
"You sure you don't want any help?" He asked a second time, less forcefully, and in such a way that it was impossible for me to turn him down.
"Sure," I pointed to the cabinet and then the fridge, "you can grab a bowl and two eggs, I think I have everything else," I counted the ingredients as I placed them on the countertop. This feels like old times. Just having Omi here next to me makes me happier than I've been in a long time. I'm so happy that we can still do things that friends do every now and again, though I'm surprised he would talk to me after that whole scene where Aya blew my cover, I'm certainly not complaining.
It's so much fun to watch Omi putting all the ingredients together. He's always so meticulous, while being careless at the same time. Not a single drop is wasted in the mixing process, and yet, he dips his finger in to taste when all is through.
"Omi, I think that has egg in it. You probably shouldn't eat that." I suggested from my station where I was currently spreading the butter on the heated pan.
"But I need to taste if it's sweet enough." He pouted, sucking on his finger with a thoughtful look before removing it from his mouth.
"Are pancakes supposed to be sweet?" I asked him, thinking to myself how sweet Omi looked with his finger in his mouth and his eyes averted in thought. Forget the pancakes. I could just eat him up . . . but, then again, that's Youji's influence in me talking.
"I like my pancakes sweet," Omi replied, leaning onto me from the right. "How do you like your pancakes, Ken-kun?"
I froze instantly. Omi is leaning on me. Good lord, Omi is leaning on me. His hair is brushing against the side of my loose jacket, and the stray strands brush against my cheek. Is it just me, or are my pants just a little bit tighter? Why is Omi playing with me?! Is this some cruel joke? We can't get this close! I'll only end up hurting him in the end. It will all be my fault. . .I. . . I. . .
"I like my pancakes with. . . strawberries," I paused, gulping, and stepping away from the bowl of batter to relieve Omi of his comfortable rest.
I'm frightened of my feelings.
"Gomen, I- I have to go." I announced, wide-eyed, "I'll finish later, okay?" I stumbled out of the kitchen.
Oh, no, Omi looked totally crushed. I hope it wasn't something I did. I can't stand to see him disappointed like that. Darn! It was something I did, wasn't it? But he knows how risky it is to be a friend in times like these . . . even if friendship is the only thing that keeps us going, I have to be prepared to lose him if it comes to that.
What frightens me is that I wouldn't be prepared. I wouldn't be prepared at all. . . So that's why I'm going to see Youji. Aside from the scintillating conversation, he always has some kind of advice that might not be relevant, but hey, I'll go for just about anything. I'll listen to anything to get Omi out of my mind and to get me back on the Weiss Track. Get it? Weiss Track? Heh. Oh, well. You're a tough audience.
Wow. Youji actually looks happy to see me. Maybe it's giving him an ego boost or something. I can't believe I'm actually this desperate.
"Well, well, well. We've got a sorry looking one. What do you seek?"
" 'What do you seek'?" I repeated mockingly.
"I dunno. It sounded cool at the time. So what's up?" He lit a smoke.
"How do you forget about love?" I asked, biting my lip.
"You can't do that, Ken," He said simply, pointing to the end of his bed "Sit down. This might take a while."
I usually try to avoid coming into Youji's room at all costs, but in this case I saw it as necessary, and actually sitting down in it makes you feel a bit more welcome. I never noticed it before, but Youji actually has books in his room. I know that Aya reads a lot, but Youji usually doesn't (at least in front of us).
"So you want to forget about this guy you're in love with, am I right?" I nod, unsure of what else I can really do in answer to that question. Of course I can't forget Omi altogether, I just want to know how I can stop being in love with him so we can go back to being friends even though it feels so good to be in love, it's for his sake, not mine, that I just forget I ever had feelings for him.
"Then come clubbing with me," Youji said, "We drink, dance, and get laid. It's the best love remedy I know of. Well, either that or you just end up getting drunk in your own misery, but you're underage, anyway, so that shouldn't be a problem."
Okay. Clubbing with Youji doesn't sound like such a terrible idea, actually. I may be in a moment of weakness, but maybe getting out and doing something will help me get my mind off Omi. There was only one problem. . .
"I hope this is not some sick, twisted way to get me into going on a date with you." I asked skeptically.
"No, way, Kenken," He answered, laughing, "I just think a night out would do you some good."
"'No strings attatched?'"
"What's it with you and these old pop songs?"
It's easy to find myself laughing when I'm not thinking about Omi, and it's so easy to float away when I am. I know that if Omi and I get too close then it can only end in tragedy. I can't do that to him. I'd gladly have myself hurt, but that would hurt him as well. There's just no way to avoid this dangerous tie without forgetting about it, but something in Youji's voice has me convinced that he has something more planned then he lets on. I don't trust anyone who plays with dental floss. You may quote me.
But either way I need to do this.
I need to forget.
And, damnnit, I need some Asprin.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: Since this is my first Weiss Kreuz fanfiction, I hope that you experienced readers and writers in this section can give me some pointers so I can improve if you like the story, and even if you don't have anything to add, I really hope you all can give me some feedback so I know whether to continue it or not.
Arigatou!! ^_^
A/N: Yay for my first Weiss Kreuz fanfiction! I am excited, are you? ^_~ Enjoy the Ken+Omi goodness.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I don't think I ever realized this before.
It's funny how the most obvious things are always the ones that find you last. It's like the soccer game you miss on TV . . . no. . . no, it's not like that at all. Well it is in the sense that it's something you knew was there, but . . . You know what? It's probably just me.
I'm really not good with words, and I'm always pretty oblivious to everything around me. This proves that for sure.
I never looked at him that way before. I'm just his friend. Friends. Geez. I've been such an idiot all these years. I never used to look at him that way, but now I realize that slowly I was falling in lov - . . . no!!! There is no way I'm falling in love! Just because his smile is enough to twist my stomach into a million nervous knots doesn't mean anything more than that I was having a particularly nervous day.
And yet, ever since Youji teasingly brought up my friendship with Omi as 'maybe something else', I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. I find myself doing dirty, Yotan-like things that I would have never done if he hadn't brought it up! Like . . . like just now when Omi dropped that floppy disk while he was trying to find the right one to take out of his pocket and bent over to pick it up. . . I found myself staring. . .
Needless to say I politely excused myself, flustered with a raging blush to take a walk in the nice, crisp fall air. I can testify to saying that the temperature is a little more than 'crisp'. That's good, though, because it's calming me down a little, but my heart is still racing a mile a minute. Omi doesn't deserve to be looked at like that. I'm such a jerk!
Just him being around has been driving me insane for the past few days.
I hope Youji's happy.
" . . . "
Okay, so I'm happy too . . . and I think I have a stupid lovesick grin on my face right now, but I'm not anxious to check.
I have no right to love him. Heck, I don't have the right to be his friend. If I get too close, he'll just end up like everyone else who's ever been this close to me. I know that I always have trouble when I open myself up to much; allow myself to trust. That's what caused Kase's death. . . Of course I'm not saying that Omi isn't trustworthy! I'd trust him with my life, whether you think that's foolish or not, it's true.
I know that Omi feels the same way, well, about the trusting part, at least, but if we keep going on like this, one of us is liable to get hurt. I'd do anything to make sure that person is me and not him. I think he realizes this too.
Lately he's been pushing me away, and I know that's because we've gotten to be better friends and he's afraid of losing me, or losing himself by caring for me too much. It's dangerous to be close to anyone in this profession.
We don't go out shopping together anymore. I think I miss that the most. Omi would always smile and ask me what kind of crackers I liked, or asking me to get things off higher shelves that he couldn't reach. It's hard to believe that I was turned-on while we were doing things like trying to find the bread isle. . . He never asks me to come with him anymore. The other day, he wouldn't even stay home at night with me when Youji and Aya were off on a mission together. I would have left him alone. It hurt when Omi said he had to 'meet a friend' . . . when I know he just wanted to get away from me.
I can never touch him. That's what kills me, when he's just sitting two feet away. It hurts when he puts his hand on mine to say that everything's fine, and his hands are so soft I want to so kiss them so badly. . .
But I can't . . . And I won't!
He's my friend.
He would hate me . . .
I am content like this, just so long as I can be near him. Or at least that's what I thought until Yoji had to bring 'that' up. Damn dirty mind. . . I'm not usually like this, I swear!
It's really cold out here; colder than the human icicle. That's Aya, I mean. He and Youji have been acting really strange lately. I'm just mentioning them now because I see them in Aya's car coming around the street corner. I'm not surprised they left the Sevens. . . it must be freezing in there without a top. I guess impractical cars are made for impractical people. It's nice to know they're concerned, but Omi isn't with them.
Not that I suspected him to be there of course, it's just. . .
"Yo! Kenken," The window next to me rolls down as Yoji calls out through the slowing car. I kept walking.
"Get in, you idiot. I'm no doctor, but you're gonna catch a cold if you stay out here too long without a proper jacket." I frowned at him, "Oi, what is with this guy?" He asked himself, "Aya, stop the car." He did.
Yikes. Yoji looks pissed. Well, either that, or he's thinking of several various ways to humiliate me on the spot and it has him in deep concentration. This is not a good start to a Saturday. Did I wake him up or something . . . ? Aya rolled up the window after Youji got out, so I'm pretty much convinced the only purpose Aya had in coming here was Chauffer. At least he wouldn't be able to hear our conversation if Yotan was outside with me.
"Okay, Ken. Spill."
"Spill what?"
"The beans."
"What beans?" I asked innocently, continuing to walk, hands clasped protectively around my soccer ball.
"The beans in your head that possessed you to sing 'hit me baby one more time' in the shower this morning," I blanched. That was not meant to be heard. "Aha! Hit a nerve did I? So, seriously, Ken, if you've got the hots for someone, let me know." He winked, "I'll hook you up."
I blushed as I thought about Omi. Great; just great. If it wasn't enough that my friendship with Omi has been jeopardized, Youji's suspicious. Well, he is my other best friend, so I don't know why I want to keep this a secret. I mean, it's not like he doesn't know I like guys. He does too. I should know. The first time we met, he tried to hit on me.
Omi is a different case altogether, of course.
"I appreciate your concern, but I'm not interested in having my love life train-wrecked before I even have one."
"Ouch. That's harsh, Kenken." He made a face, "It hurts." He pointed sarcastically to his heart, "Right here."
"Shut up, Kudou," I growled.
. . . And when Ken Hidaka growls, it's seriously time to back off. I'm glad Youji understands at least that much.
"Fine. I won't say another word, but just know that I've got your back. Omi's kinda worried about you too, because you left so abruptly. You have a really bad habit of doing that, and it usually doesn't mean good news."
"You're a bit talkative for someone who 'won't say another word'." I smiled weakly, white breath rolling off my tongue in the frigid air, still angry, but it's hard to stay angry at Youji for too long when he's being so agreeable. He's not always so agreeable, mind you.
"And -you're- a bit hot-headed for someone who claims he's in love."
"Yeah, I guess you have a point. . ." I stopped mid-sentence, "Hey! I never said I was in love!"
"You did just now." Youji grinned, shivering at the cold before running his fingertips through his hair, "I am just too good at this . . . . Now get in the damn car before we both freeze our asses off."
"I hate you." I scowled.
"You do now." The man said cunningly as he opened the door, "But you'll thank me later."
Yeah, whatever. Youji can really cheat Schuldig out of his job sometimes. He's better at messing with minds than anyone I've ever seen. . . including that Nazi. Or it could just be that I'm easy to mess with. Either way, I'm pretty sure my Saturday just got worse. I just pray that Youji won't try anything funny. Maybe since I'm nice and coming home with him instead of going out and getting drunk, he'll cut me some slack . . . okay, never mind, this is Yotan we're talking about. The only thing we can do is pray.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
No, I'm not looking at Omi. Okay, so I'm -trying- not to look at Omi, but it's not working. He's just so cute when he's typing on the computer, even if I only see his back.
The good thing about backs is that they don't smile. When Omi smiles I completely melt, and even though that goes completely unnoticed to him, I know it won't go unnoticed by a certain Youji Kudou who has been following me around for two friggin' hours and is currently pretending to be absorbed in a book.
You know what? If I don't start doing something besides staring at Omi's back I'm really going to look suspicious. . .
That's it! Aya's newspaper! That's harmless enough, and it'll give me a cover. Just be casual, Ken; casual.
Damnnit! I dropped the newspaper. So much for 'casual'. . .
Now Youji's looking at me funny. I drop things all the time, why is he looking at me funny? Is it my hair? My expression? . . . . . . . . . oh. It might be the fact that I'm holding the newspaper upside down.
. . . But I can't turn it right side up right now because then Aya, who is currently walking right into the room, would know that I actually have been reading a newspaper that is upside down for a full five minutes! Man this is so confusing! What if Yoji says something? What if Omi turns around?! Why am I getting so freaked out? I'm sweating so much that some of the ink is rubbing off on my fingers. Okay, so it always does that, it's only that he's cute, no, he's hot and cute, and his ass is so tight and . . .
"Ken?"
"AHHH!" I jumped, "Aya, don't scare me like that!!!!"
"Umm. . . I just thought I should point out that you're reading the newspaper upside down."
"Eh heh," I laughed nervously, sweating profusely, I'm sure of it now, "You see. . . . I was just. . ."
"Nevermind. I don't want to know." I can't believe he's walking away. Just after interrupting me like that. I can't even think of a good comeback! Man, I'm such an idiot! And as if it weren't enough, Youji's over there snickering. But I can almost smile at that, while resisting the urge to beat him senseless. What really hurts is that Omi isn't even turning around.
He must really think I'm an idiot. Why else would he completely ignore that whole scene? Well, he's a genius, so I must just look like a dumb jock. He'd be right. I can't ever compare to him, which is why I don't even deserve to be his friend. I've known that for too long, and yet somehow he always used to hang around me. Not recently, though. . . .
'Now you've done it, Ken' I can hear my inner conscience telling me, 'you knew you didn't have a chance with Omi before, but now you don't for sure.'
. . . This would be the part where I curse myself and stomp out of the room, except that would make me even more idiotic. I can't even get some fresh air because Youji would follow me all the way to the other side of the country if I decided that's where I was going. I really don't want to face him right now, well, not the horny Youji. I really need my best friend Youji right now.
Glancing over there at that giggling mess behind a copy of 'Great Expectations', I realize it would probably be best if I just went and made dinner or something.
No one spoke as I left the room, so I guess that's a good sign, but I heard Yoji stop laughing. When I'm not angry, it's not funny anymore. Somehow, I don't get that. I slammed a pot on the counter and looked around the kitchen for an apron.
Well, I guess my Koneko apron is going to have to do this time . . . so long as I don't get it covered in tomato sauce or something, Aya won't bite my head off. Well, either way I don't think he'd literally 'bite my head off', but you never know.
Where the heck is that cooking book? Ah. Here.
Lessee. . . spaghetti? Nah. Omi doesn't like that. . . or chicken either. What else can I make? Hmm. Think. Think. Great, now I sound like Winnie the Pooh. Isn't there anything I can make in this book? No. I keep flipping through these stupid pages, and they either sound gross, impossible to make, or Omi doesn't particularly like them. . . I probably shouldn't worry about what Omi likes or not because there's no way anything I cook will help things between us, but somehow I enjoy it when someone . . . well, when someone I love enjoys something that I've done.
Pancakes!
That's it! Pancakes! Omi loves pancakes! To hell with traditional dinners; I'm going to make one baddass breakfast. So, smiling slightly, now, I reach inside the kitchen drawer to find the spatula when there's a sudden feather- light hand bringing warmth to my shoulder. I turn around, and it's almost like looking into the face of an angel. I can't breathe; much less speak.
It's like I have something caught in my throat and my entire brain shuts down to let my heart speed up. I have no authority to tell my body what to do. I'm only at the mercy of his touch, and I can only barely hear what he has to say through the emotions that strangle my ears and my heart.
"Ken-kun?" Omi looked at me with concern.
"Oh, uh. . . hi Omi"
( -I'm falling. . . - )
"What's wrong?" He stepped closer, and I stepped backward, letting his hand fall off my shoulder. It was driving me insane, as much as I wanted it to stay there, I was too afraid that I'd lose control.
"What do you mean? I'm fine. Just making dinner early so we can save it for later," I grinned, rubbing my hand behind my head nervously. What are you doing to me Omi?
( -. . . In love . . .- )
"Ken-kun," the angel smiled, taking my hand and the spatula with it, leaning slightly into the space dividing us, "It's not even your turn to cook. Let me help you."
"I'm fine, really, Omi. You can leave it to me." I blushed at his touch. The way he leans forward like that makes me turn my head to the side. If I look him straight on I'm liable to do something I might regret.
(- . . . with you- )
Omi looked at the spatula. God he's adorable when he looks puzzled. Suddenly it was as if a light bulb appeared above his head, and he looked bouncily excited. "You're making pancakes, Ken-kun?!"
"Yeah, glad you noticed. I know you like them," I said, smiling as I moved over to grab the bag of flour from one of the higher cupboards.
"You sure you don't want any help?" He asked a second time, less forcefully, and in such a way that it was impossible for me to turn him down.
"Sure," I pointed to the cabinet and then the fridge, "you can grab a bowl and two eggs, I think I have everything else," I counted the ingredients as I placed them on the countertop. This feels like old times. Just having Omi here next to me makes me happier than I've been in a long time. I'm so happy that we can still do things that friends do every now and again, though I'm surprised he would talk to me after that whole scene where Aya blew my cover, I'm certainly not complaining.
It's so much fun to watch Omi putting all the ingredients together. He's always so meticulous, while being careless at the same time. Not a single drop is wasted in the mixing process, and yet, he dips his finger in to taste when all is through.
"Omi, I think that has egg in it. You probably shouldn't eat that." I suggested from my station where I was currently spreading the butter on the heated pan.
"But I need to taste if it's sweet enough." He pouted, sucking on his finger with a thoughtful look before removing it from his mouth.
"Are pancakes supposed to be sweet?" I asked him, thinking to myself how sweet Omi looked with his finger in his mouth and his eyes averted in thought. Forget the pancakes. I could just eat him up . . . but, then again, that's Youji's influence in me talking.
"I like my pancakes sweet," Omi replied, leaning onto me from the right. "How do you like your pancakes, Ken-kun?"
I froze instantly. Omi is leaning on me. Good lord, Omi is leaning on me. His hair is brushing against the side of my loose jacket, and the stray strands brush against my cheek. Is it just me, or are my pants just a little bit tighter? Why is Omi playing with me?! Is this some cruel joke? We can't get this close! I'll only end up hurting him in the end. It will all be my fault. . .I. . . I. . .
"I like my pancakes with. . . strawberries," I paused, gulping, and stepping away from the bowl of batter to relieve Omi of his comfortable rest.
I'm frightened of my feelings.
"Gomen, I- I have to go." I announced, wide-eyed, "I'll finish later, okay?" I stumbled out of the kitchen.
Oh, no, Omi looked totally crushed. I hope it wasn't something I did. I can't stand to see him disappointed like that. Darn! It was something I did, wasn't it? But he knows how risky it is to be a friend in times like these . . . even if friendship is the only thing that keeps us going, I have to be prepared to lose him if it comes to that.
What frightens me is that I wouldn't be prepared. I wouldn't be prepared at all. . . So that's why I'm going to see Youji. Aside from the scintillating conversation, he always has some kind of advice that might not be relevant, but hey, I'll go for just about anything. I'll listen to anything to get Omi out of my mind and to get me back on the Weiss Track. Get it? Weiss Track? Heh. Oh, well. You're a tough audience.
Wow. Youji actually looks happy to see me. Maybe it's giving him an ego boost or something. I can't believe I'm actually this desperate.
"Well, well, well. We've got a sorry looking one. What do you seek?"
" 'What do you seek'?" I repeated mockingly.
"I dunno. It sounded cool at the time. So what's up?" He lit a smoke.
"How do you forget about love?" I asked, biting my lip.
"You can't do that, Ken," He said simply, pointing to the end of his bed "Sit down. This might take a while."
I usually try to avoid coming into Youji's room at all costs, but in this case I saw it as necessary, and actually sitting down in it makes you feel a bit more welcome. I never noticed it before, but Youji actually has books in his room. I know that Aya reads a lot, but Youji usually doesn't (at least in front of us).
"So you want to forget about this guy you're in love with, am I right?" I nod, unsure of what else I can really do in answer to that question. Of course I can't forget Omi altogether, I just want to know how I can stop being in love with him so we can go back to being friends even though it feels so good to be in love, it's for his sake, not mine, that I just forget I ever had feelings for him.
"Then come clubbing with me," Youji said, "We drink, dance, and get laid. It's the best love remedy I know of. Well, either that or you just end up getting drunk in your own misery, but you're underage, anyway, so that shouldn't be a problem."
Okay. Clubbing with Youji doesn't sound like such a terrible idea, actually. I may be in a moment of weakness, but maybe getting out and doing something will help me get my mind off Omi. There was only one problem. . .
"I hope this is not some sick, twisted way to get me into going on a date with you." I asked skeptically.
"No, way, Kenken," He answered, laughing, "I just think a night out would do you some good."
"'No strings attatched?'"
"What's it with you and these old pop songs?"
It's easy to find myself laughing when I'm not thinking about Omi, and it's so easy to float away when I am. I know that if Omi and I get too close then it can only end in tragedy. I can't do that to him. I'd gladly have myself hurt, but that would hurt him as well. There's just no way to avoid this dangerous tie without forgetting about it, but something in Youji's voice has me convinced that he has something more planned then he lets on. I don't trust anyone who plays with dental floss. You may quote me.
But either way I need to do this.
I need to forget.
And, damnnit, I need some Asprin.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: Since this is my first Weiss Kreuz fanfiction, I hope that you experienced readers and writers in this section can give me some pointers so I can improve if you like the story, and even if you don't have anything to add, I really hope you all can give me some feedback so I know whether to continue it or not.
Arigatou!! ^_^