Italics signifies Aya's POV, 'plain' text signifies Yohji's POV. *blah* are words with emphasis, BLAH are words spoken loudly. This is a shonen-ai fic consisting of the couple AxY/YxA with a little KxO on the side. Enjoy! ^o^
Just A Little TLC
"Hey Yohji," Omi smiled hesitantly as he peeked through my door. "Want some soup?"
I glared at him. "NO!"
"Orange juice?"
"NO!"
"Soda?"
"NO!"
"A sandwich?"
"NO!"
"A kick in the pants?"
"…Shut up, Omi." I glared at him again. "Sarcasm isn't becoming to a young man."
"I wasn't being sarcastic," Omi informed me as he sat down on the edge of my bed and handed me a glass of water and two small, white tablets. "I think that's what you need more than anything."
I scowled as I took my medicine. "It's just not fair! It's Valentine's Day! I ought to be out selling white and pink and red flowers to a bunch of high-schoolers and trying to juggle three dates! Not in *bed* sick with the flu!" I sniffled loudly, grabbing a tissue from the box sitting next to me and blew my nose. "Omi, this isn't fair!"
"Well, maybe this will make you feel better," he said, still smiling cheerily and pulling out a large stack of envelopes from behind his back. "Ta-da! All the girls at the flower shop are desolate without you!"
The kid is too cheery for his own good and I said as much to him even as I grudgingly accepted the stack of envelopes. I gagged, "*Yech*! What did they *spray* on here?"
Omi looked thoughtful as he picked up a letter, "This girl used a…hmmm…musk cologne I'd say. This one used an…hmm, lavender one. And *this* girl used a-,"
"Get out of here," I ordered, hitting him over the head with my stack of envelopes. "I don't need you and your nose smelling my cards!"
Omi scowled and rubbed his head, "I was just trying to cheer you up!"
"Oh yeah? Well go cheer 'Ken-kun' up because he needs it more than me!" I snapped back. Omi burned a brilliant red at this comment; ever since I'd found a piece of paper in his desk with 'Omi and Ken' scribbled over it several hundred times, Omi had been subject to my merciless teasing and occasional blackmail. Hey, if the kid's so stupid as to write down his secret desires in pen then he *deserves* to be blackmailed.
"You're a jerk, Yohji!"
"I'm truly wounded." I clasped a hand over my heart and sighed dramatically, "Omi thinks I'm a *jerk*! You're killing me!"
"I'm leaving," Omi informed me haughtily and stalked out of the room.
I shrugged and slipped farther down beneath the covers.
If I have to be sick on a holiday, then I get to be mean about it.
That settled, I leaned back and began to open the envelopes.
#@#@#@
"That's it! I'm so SICK and TIRED of him!" I glanced up as Omi stormed into the kitchen, slamming the refrigerator door open and then slamming it closed again as he banged a carton of orange juice forcefully down on the table.
"That juice costs money," I informed him. "I wouldn't be wasting it if I were you."
"You know what, Aya?"
"What?"
"Shove it up your ass!"
I stared in shock as Omi poured himself a glass of juice with visibly trembling hands. "Omi?" I managed to say, staring shock at the younger man as he nearly threw the orange juice container back into the refrigerator.
"I apologize," he said finally, setting the glass down on the counter and grasping the edges tightly in his fingers, tight enough to make his knuckles turn white. "But Yohji is being…"
"Yohji," I filled in for him.
He nodded and I imagined he was smiling despite his anger. "Exactly. He's being a jerk and whining and complaining and he's not even grateful for those cards he got, he just seems to *expect* them!" Omi sighed heavily and continued quietly, "I don't see anything attractive about him that would endear him to all those girls…"
"Yeah, because all you can see is Ken," I pointed out.
"What is with you all today?" Omi demanded, whirling around and throwing his hands up. "You and Yohji both-making fun of me simply because I have a tiny crush on-Ken!" Omi squeaked out his name as the soccer player entered the kitchen.
"Don't stop on my account," Ken said cheerfully, ruffling Omi's hair on his way past the boy to the sink. "I just came in to refill my water bottle." As he turned the tap on and ran the water over his fingers to test the temperature, he added, "Those kids are insane today…I don't know *where* they get the energy." He smiled, slipping his water bottle under the steady flow of water, "I mean, I like to think I'm energetic but even I'm getting worn out today."
Ken's eyes lit up as he glanced at Omi and in a tentative, clumsy manner, he suggested, "Omi…do you want to, um, help me? The kids like you and I can't handle them much longer just by myself."
Omi glowed with pleasure at being included in Ken's plans. "I'd love to…just wait a second while I go get a jacket or something."
Ken stared after the younger boy, a sort of daydreaming look on his face, not even noticing as his water bottle over-flowed and ran down his hand. "Ken!" I called his name sharply. "Wake up!"
"Oh…oops," Ken reddened faintly as he replaced the cap to his water bottle swiftly and turned off the tap.
"KEN!" Omi shouted his name above the roar of childish laughter and voices. "Are you coming? These kids are knocking down the door!"
"Coming!" Ken yelled back, rushing out the door.
I couldn't help smiling as I watched the two of them pass the kitchen window, their eyes locked on one another's and a warm smile exchanged between them despite the children surrounding them. They were so comfortable with one another. They were so right for each other and both of them knew it; despite the fact that they didn't know the other knew it yet.
They were so in love.
And so close to finding their release.
My throat constricted painfully and I forced the all-to familiar image of a smiling blonde out of my mind.
#@#@#@
Knock. Knock.
I raised an eyebrow at the door and turned the volume down on the television I'd been aimlessly channel surfing. Who'd be knocking at my door? Omi wouldn't be, he was probably still upset with me from earlier. It couldn't be Ken because just ten minutes earlier I'd heard his familiar voice calling the attention of the children he voluntarily coached. By clever deduction, that left only Aya.
But Aya never knocked.
And Aya most certainly never knocked on *my* door.
In fact, I rather think Aya avoids me. If it were anyone else, I wouldn't have cared if they avoided me. Okay, I'm human. Maybe I would've been a little miffed and maybe I would have found a way to embarrass them or something. But I wouldn't have really cared that much. I wouldn't feel that deep, aching hurt whenever their eyes shifted away from mine, that indescribable pain whenever Aya turned to leave a room I was in, that jealous anger when Aya talked with Ken and Omi whereas I only got the most curt of orders and commands.
And I wouldn't have been guilty of caring too much if it had been anyone but Aya.
I sighed and set down the remote, calling out cautiously, "Who is it?"
Without a response, the door swung open and there, just as I had suspected, was Aya, looking very un-Ayalike with a wooden tray in his hands and a nervous expression on his face. I couldn't decipher if the nervous expression was from being in my room alone with me or by the fact he was unused to carrying around trays with enormous bowls of soup on them. "Aya?" I said his name; as if I couldn't see him less than four yards away from my bed.
"Omi said you hadn't eaten and that you needed soup," Aya informed me stonily, stalking across the room and setting the tray down on the bedside table. "Anyways, he's out with Ken, playing soccer with kids-and I think you made him mad because he told me he'd was 'sick and tired' of you."
I glanced down guiltily at my hands, shreds of remorse beginning to peck away at the fiber of my soul. I probably shouldn't have ragged on him about Ken, I thought repentantly. I wonder if he and Ken are doing more than playing soccer, I thought next, probably canceling the repentance of my previous thought.
"Is that *chicken* noodle soup?" I asked suspiciously as Aya poked around on the tray until he came up with a spoon and handed it to me.
"Yes. There wasn't anything else."
"I don't want it."
"I don't care. You're sick and you have a duty to Weiss to get well. *And* chicken soup costs money and we are not going to waste it!" That settled, he held the bowl over me, obviously wanting me to take it.
My lower lip jutted out defiantly, shaking my head at the bowl. "I can get well without the soup. I'll reimburse you for the wasted can. Just get it out of here before I throw up!" I order, my voice rising despite my sought-after self-control.
And then, to my great surprise, Aya *smiled*.
I was having trouble remembering how to breathe suddenly as Aya smiled. I'd never seen him smile before…it was wonderful. Wonderful to watch how his lips slowly curved upwards, wonderful to see how little-used laugh lines appeared faintly at the corners of his pale lips, wonderful to see how strands of his hair brushed against the curve of his cheek. I'd never seen anyone so utterly desirable while being so completely off-limits. And I'd never wanted to touch anyone so badly.
"You don't *like* chicken noodle soup, do you?" he asked, my mind instantly snapping away from his incredible attractiveness to the situation at hand.
"No…why?"
His smiled reappeared. "I bet the smell makes your whole stomach turn over."
I shifted my weight gingerly beneath the sheets, uncomfortable with how well he knew me. For someone who avoided me with such obviousness, it was scary. "Ye-es."
Now he laughed.
I'd never heard Aya laugh either and I stared at him with surprise. If his smiling was wonderful, his laughter was magnificent. It was a smooth, rich sound that seemed to well up from deep within him and spill out across his lips, making whoever was in the room with him want to smile and laugh. For an instant, I felt an emotion of self-pride, delighted *I'd* been the one to hear Aya laugh. But the feeling died away almost immediately and I felt sicker than before. I probably wasn't ever going to hear Aya's laugh again so I'd better just put the thought straight out of mind.
"Why are you laughing?" I asked, curiosity getting the best of me.
"You. You're exactly like me."
Suddenly, I saw the humor. Me and Aya-alike? Crazy! I smiled back at him, but couldn't bring myself to laugh, I felt so sick to my stomach by the smell. I started suddenly as Aya pushed the tray away from us, knocking my lamp to the floor. "Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing? That lamp cost good money!"
"You sounded like me with that last sentence."
What was with him and finding all these similarities suddenly? "Go away," I mumbled, sliding beneath the covers, feeling extremely disgruntled and cranky. "I don't wanna talk anymore. I feel sick."
"What would make you feel better?" Aya asked, still standing patiently besides my bed.
Why did he care? The question was on the tip of my tongue, but instead all's I flung out were the carelessly uttered words of: "Oh, just a little TLC."
#@#@#@
"Just a little TLC."
My heart began pounding as the words left his lips. I was already angry with myself for slipping, for letting him see my smile and hear my laugh. Now I was comforting this man and his lips had just uttered something I could take to be literal.
His eyes smiled at me over the covers and his tone was muffled as he pulled the covers up to his nose. "Don't look so shocked. Think about who you're talking too."
True. So true. But he probably didn't know how close I was to actually touching him. Do more than touch him, really. I was dying to just reach out and pull him up over those covers that were creating the most infuriating barrier between us and just kissing him.
I wonder what it would be like to kiss him. His lips fascinate me sometimes, the way their shape changes when he speaks, their shape, the way that stretch into a wide grin. I want to feel those lips beneath mine, feel their gentle yielding…I need to stop this train of thought right now, that's what I need to do rather than daydream about kissing Yohji.
Kissing Yohji…what a wonderful thought, no matter how hard I try to fight it.
"Aya…remember what you said about getting well is my duty to Weiss?" Yohji asked, pulling himself to a sitting position and supporting himself with his arms. My gaze is drawn to his arms, studying and memorizing every contour of the muscles in them. His body is perfect in my mind and the only thing I want to do is learn every inch of it with my mouth, my hands, my eyes.
"Yes."
"Well, I think a little TLC might do the trick."
My eyes met his then and I read the daring hint of a challenge flickering in those green depths alongside the emotions of desire and tentativeness. Did he desire me? Was he actually nervous around me? I guessed hopefully at the complex emotions in those eyes.
He sat up straighter still and shifted his weight so he was only mere inches away from me. All's I had to do then was lean down and his lips would be touching mine…his eyes flickered to my lips, to my eyes, to my lips again and finally back to lock onto my eyes.
It was then I gave up my fighting resistance and leaned down and kissed Yohji determinedly on the lips.
#@#@#@
Kissing Aya wasn't like anything I'd ever dreamed. I admit it, I've dreamed of kissing him before. But the reality was so much better than any fantasy could ever be.
His lips covered mine and I responded before I was even aware of what was happening to me. A split-second later when my outrageously delighted mind was screaming the truth, that yes this was and yes it was *his* lips that were pressed so deliciously against mind, I had no mind to resist.
I've rarely been submissive before, even in a simple kiss. But then, it fell so perfect to just give in, to let it be his tongue demanding entrance into my willing mouth than the other way around. As my arms wrapped unexpectedly around his back, he lost his balance and crashed onto the bed beside me. With surprising grace, he never broke contact with my lips, instead taking the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue discovering every inch of my mouth while curving my body against his.
Even I responded enthusiastically to his lips, my own tongue battling fiercely with his own to gain entrance into his mouth, I was learning how our bodies fit so perfectly together, as if we were two interlocking puzzle pieces that had just come together. Every curve of my body fit against every cranny of his until we were tightly molded together, heated bodies rubbing against one another's with a heady friction.
And then, suddenly his lips left mine and I was left with a spinning head and slightly bruised lips. My eyes slowly opened and then, I realized something. The desperation in Aya's kiss hadn't been the awkwardness of the situation; it had been what he was truly feeling. There was such raw, naked emotion in those violet eyes, I didn't know what to do or say. There was a sudden glimmer of wetness and without a second thought, I reached up and gently brushed my thumb against the curve of his eye as it closed against my touch.
"Aya. I'm…I'm sorry," I whispered, my arm wrapping tightly around his waist, keeping a firm hold on him. "I'm sorry you're upset. But I am *not* sorry you kissed me." His body tensed and I could sense his held breath as I continued, "I wouldn't be sorry if it happened again. Aya…I…" words failed me then and for once, the suave Yohji could not express his emotions.
It wouldn't have mattered anyway then because suddenly there was a pair of slender fingers pressed against my lips, silencing any words that might suddenly burst forth. "Yohji." I'd never heard anyone say my name like that before. He breathed it out like it was something precious, something that *meant* more than 'you-come-here'!
"Aya?" I replied, half-holding my breath as his gaze slowly traveled upward to meet mine.
And finally, I could relax and hold him close as words of heartfelt emotion rushed out like a broken dam.
#@#@#@
"AYA! WHERE ARE YOU?"
I sighed softly and propped myself up on my right hand, my left hand reaching forward to gently nudge the heavily sleeping Yohji. "Yohji! Wake up!"
"Mmfh," he responded, snuggling beneath his covers and curling up closer to me. A soft smile crossed my face as one of his hands flung out from beneath the warmth of the covers and captured my left hand. Yohji was a born cuddler as he slept; always seeking to be closer to the person he shared a bed with,
Luckily, I didn't mind.
"AAAYYYAAA!" Omi's voice joined Ken as the two of them continued searching for me.
"Yohji, c'mon, wake up," I insisted, pinching the rough skin of his palm.
"You little bastard. I'm sleeping!"
If anyone else had called me that, I'm sure I would have flown off the handle and administered a quick and bloody death. But since it was Yohji and I was happy to be near him, I let it pass, even as I shook him again. "I refuse to let you sleep all day!"
"The day's over." One emerald eye opened to peek at the clock. "It's seven o'clock. It's officially night."
"Ken and Omi are looking for us."
"Let 'em look. Maybe Ken will end up in Omi's bed where he belongs."
"Don't be disgusting."
"How can it be disgusting when the same thing happened to us?"
"Don't change the subject!"
"Yohji! Have you seen A-Aya?" Omi blinked in surprise at the sight of Yohji and I.
Ken's face appeared behind his shoulder and the soccer player remarked calmly, "The *hell*! What have you two been smoking?"
"A-Aya? Yo-Yohji? What happened?" Omi managed to stutter out. "Why-how-there's no way-I don't understand!"
"We-ell," Yohji drawled out, finally opening both his eyes and wrapping both his arms around me. "I needed some TLC to feel better."
"And I was here to administer it," I added, my eyes already closing as Yohji moved in for a kiss.
There was a long moment of silence from the doorway. And then, finally, Ken's voice piped up. "Um…Omi?"
"Yeah."
"I think I need some TLC too."
"Oh!"
There was a long moment of awkward silence and then, the gradual dying away sound of Ken and Omi's footsteps. Yohji laughed quietly, drawing away from me and gazing down at my face with an expression of self-pride. "They're finally together!"
"*We're* finally together," I corrected him, sitting up to have a better angle to brush my lips against his own.
"I ought to be sick more often," he managed to mumble out just before my lips covered his own.
And from Ken's room, down the hall it seemed Omi and Ken had discovered their own brand of 'TLC'.
Yohji smirked faintly at the sound and suddenly his eyes lit up. "Hey, Aya!"
"Yeah?"
"Happy Valentine's Day."
I smiled at Yohji, the only one who had ever made me smile like this before. "Happy Valentine's Day, Yohji."
His eyes closed then and I remembered he was sick. "Good night, then." He nodded weakly and I stood up to leave.
But I couldn't help whispering at his half-asleep form before turning off the lights and shutting the door: "I love you."
::End::
AN: Okay, I think Aya was a little OOC. But…um…what did you all think? Should I throw my keyboard to the wolves and forever give up writing?