Last Dance
Chapter One

author - Marius
rating - pg 13
pairing - Yohji x Omi

teaser - after insisting omi attend a school dance to get out and have some fun, yohji finds himself stuck teaching his younger teammate how to dance.

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Muted rays of light reflected off Omi's face in the darkness, shining from the computer screen he was trying to pay attention to, but failing. The solid back of the chair he'd been sitting in for the last four hours was beginning to dig into his spine, but he didn't particularly notice. His Coke had gone flat some time ago, he realized, when he went to take a sip and scrunched up his nose at what was now nothing much more than colored sugar water.

His fingers played with the rim of the glass, poking at a stray droplet of colored water here or there or tapping trim nails on the side once or twice to produce annoying clicking noises that were oddly soothing in the quiet room.

He really didn't have any work to do at the moment; missions had been fairly cut and dry lately, without a terribly large amount of work on his part, which was both refreshing and boring.

Omi looked at the clock. 3 am. It was Friday night. He'd already finished all of his homework for the weekend, and half of Monday's assignments. Aya would be awake in another three hours at the crack of dawn to give the flowers their first watering. Ken had gone to bed an hour ago after a night full of highlights shows from a big soccer game that Omi had been able to hear all the way from Ken's room. Did he really have to have it turned up THAT loud?

Yohji was out. Yohji never worked Saturdays because he was always out all night on Friday. After one lovely Saturday where Aya forced Yohji to work after his usual Friday gallivanting, Yohji had broken three flower pots AND Ken's toe, all before ten a.m. Aya decided that even if Yohji was a lazy bastard and should work as much as the rest of them, they couldn't afford that many broken pots, and Ken only had so many toes to lose. As it was, Ken had gone wailing for a month, unable to play soccer, and that was bad enough for the rest of them to want to take him out back and shoot him like a lame horse.

So, Yohji never worked Saturdays. Omi, however, usually did, and this morning was no exception. Working the Saturday shift on zero sleep wasn't anything new; Omi was more than used to it by now.

So what was a bored teenager to do for the next five hours until his shift?

He started to flip through his CD collection for something that fit his mood. He was trying to decide between some crappy bubblegum pop thing and some slightly better techno dance thing when he heard footsteps on the stairs.

"Hi, Yohji-kun," he chimed, not even having to look up to know who it was. Yohji always came downstairs when he got in late, and had a cigarette or two. Usually while picking on Omi about looking up porn.

That always annoyed Omi. A lot. One time, Yohji had caught him looking at something like that, and he'd never been able to live it down. He'd just been curious, that was all. Hell, if he was old enough to kill people, he was old enough to look at dirty pictures, no matter what the sites might say.

And he hadn't really taken any special pleasure in looking at them, truthfully. Painted women with synthetic smiles and even more synthetic bodies, in positions that were honestly beyond Omi's grasp of comprehension. After five or six pairs of disgustingly doctored up shots of nude women, Omi declared his porn-surfing days over. Not to mention the bane that was the pop-up ad. It took him ten minutes to close down all the windows from one damned site!

"Behaving yourself, Omi-chan?" Yohji chimed back. It was some strange little routine they always did when Yohji came home late, and Omi was the only one up. It ruffled Omi to be called 'chan', but he had to admit, even to himself, that he looked like a girl more than he looked like a boy. Shouldn't he have filled out at least a little more by now?

Omi looked up, tossing the CDs aside. Neither of them really fit his bored mood, anyway. He gave Yohji, who was standing at the bottom of the stairs, already lighting a cigarette, a petulant look, and scowled.

"Well, lets' see while you were out I bathed in the blood of six young virgins, and then I summoned the devil. But I cleaned up afterward," Omi quipped sarcastically.

Yohji chuckled around his cigarette. "Eh, where'd you hide the bodies?"

Omi kept a perfectly straight face. "Under Aya's bed."

Yohji's soft chuckle got louder, and his face split into a wide grin. "You're a little devil yourself, bishounen."

"You should talk, Yohji-kun."

Yohji merely clicked his tongue and grinned, meandering over to the couch and sitting down. He sat with one arm slung over the back, one ankle kicked over the other knee in a languidly catlike "I refuse to move till I'm good and damn ready," position. Every few minutes he'd tip his head back and blow lazy rings of smoke at the ceiling.

Omi rested his head on his arms, propped up on the back of his chair, and sighed. He watched Yohji with a slightly studying expression. People liked Yohji. Women liked Yohji. Yohji was always busy, always out. Yohji didn't stay home alone, bored out of his mind most of the time, stuck with a computer screen for a companion.

Yohji looked surprisingly sober tonight, which must have meant he'd been busy with the girls. Whenever he didn't get a lot of action, he drank heavily, and wound up dead drunk by the time he got home. Omi witnessed this more than anyone else, just because he was usually always awake when Yohji came home.

Yohji finished his cigarette, rubbing the butt out in a well-used tray. "What's Omi-chan doing home alone when he could be out chasing skirts, hm?" Yohji teased.

"Oi, Yohji, I'm not like you" Omi protested.

"Yeah, but you've got to get out and have some fun every now and then, or you'll turn out like old scrooge with the eartails up there," Yohji said, pointing up at the ceiling toward Aya's room. "You want to go around yelling 'Buy something or get out!' for the rest of your life? Trust me, that'll get you weird looks in a few places, kid."

Omi frowned and crossed his arms indignatly. "If you think I'm old enough for that, why do you always call me, kid?"

Yohji laughed. "You're five years younger than me. By default, I get to call you 'kid', even when I'm eighty and you're seventy-five."

"You'd be hitting on all the poor old women in the nursing homes. 'Oh, are those dentures? I couldn't tell, your smile is so dazzling!' I can see it now," Omi mocked.

"Don't you have to work in the morning?" Yohji veered away from Omi's teasing remark, and grinned sideways at him.

"I never sleep on Fridays, even though I work in the morning, unlike someone else around here" Omi trailed off, smiling sweetly.

"What, did I hear the wind?" Yohji snickered, pretending not to hear.

Omi got up from his chair and punched Yohji in the shoulder. "Oi! You're terrible, Yohji-kun!" Then, he flopped down on one edge of the couch that Yohji wasn't taking up and sighed.

"You should go on a date or something, sometime, Omi. Get the hell out of the shop and have some fun before we have to get you surgically removed from that computer screen, or buy an extension cord so you can take it to bed with you."

Omi felt like sticking his tongue out at Yohji for that comment, but didn't.

"Well, there's a dance at school next week, but I haven't asked anyone yet" Omi mused quietly. "I wasn't going to go at all, in case something cropped up that night." He gave a little shrug, and a slight smile.

"Well, you better ask someone soon before all the pretty girls get scooped up, 'cause you're going if I have to drag you there," Yohji insisted.

Omi blushed. "But I don't know who to ask!"

"Isn't there anyone you like, at school?"

Omi blushed deeper. "Well, yes, but"

Yohji slapped him on the back, a little harder than Omi was prepared for, and he jumped a bit. "Then ask her!"

"Bbut what if she says no?" Omi stuttered, his face hot.

"Then you just ask another one. It's not that bad, really, Omi. Girls aren't that scary, their bark is worse than their bite." Yohji grinned. "Usually," he added with a wink.

Omi was scarlet. "Yooooohji-kun!"

Yohji laughed at Omi's red face and patted him on the back. "The only way you learn is by doing, kiddo. Just ask someone and go and have a good time."

"Easy for you, girls like you" Omi mumbled.

"Oh, and that isn't you I see them crawling all over most days in the shop?" Yohji asked, eyebrows raised.

"But you know what to say to them, I just blush and stammer."

"That's why you've got to talk to them more! You think I've always been this good at it?" Yohji's voice carried a hint of teasing and more than a hint of smug complacency.

Omi couldn't help but laugh. "You're so full of yourself, Yohji-kun, your buttons are going to pop."

Yohji laughed and ruffled Omi's hair. "You know it, kid," he said, and winked. "You're cute, Omi, girls like cute just as much as they like other stuff. You ever see them fawn over a kitten?"

"Yeah but I don't want them pulling my tail"

"Just be you, Omi. You'll do fine, trust me." Another reassuring wink.

"I'll be you say that to ALL the girls"

Yohji stood up, chuckling softly again. "Just you, Omi-chan, and it's time for me to hit the hay. I've got a long, hard Saturday of sleeping ahead of me." He grinned at Omi one more time before starting up the stairs.

"And you ARE going to that dance," Yohji called at he reached the top steps.

"Yes, mother" Omi muttered, as Yohji disappeared from his view.

"And don't look at too much porn before work!" Yohji called once more, and Omi could hear him laughing. He turned pink and grumbled.

Yohji was such a pain.

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- to be continued -