Hi. Since you are here, I suppose you are going to read something of mine. I hope so, at least *big chibi eyes* Pleeeaaassseee? Sorry about that. Well anyway, fair warning, this fic is so fluffy and sappy that it might just sprout wings and fly away...
(inside joke). Well, everyone enjoys a good fluff sometimes. Well I do at least...


Rated for yaoi references and mildly graphic scenes
Pairing Yohji and Aya




More than Lust


The creamy skinned red head glared at his reflection in the mirror. Another day's work at the shop lie ahead, something not to be looked forward to. Another day of tear stricken countenances of young females in pursuit of their perceived god, only to find his heart had been captured by another. They followed him constantly, like puppies tracking for the hunt. His typical bellow of "Buy something or get Out!" only brought a tiny smile to their faces, their huge adoring eyes filled with lust and hope. Gods, the only way to get rid of them was to deplete them of all hope.

Aya stared at his face a moment longer, his gaze lingering on his amethyst eyes which glowered at him in the reflection. He quickly ran his fingers through his crimson red hair and hurried out into the hall. He passed the door to his lover's room and saw a tiny crack outlined by darkness, which yielded no information about the occupant within. No signs of life were apparent within. Aya paused for a moment, reflecting on the occupant of this particular room. A flash of a smile snaked across his face, a rare occurrence saved only for special occasions, and almost never in public. He heard a shuffling sound within the shadows, and quickly resumed his normal expression, a frown, to mask his momentary vulnerability.

A disheveled looking Yohji stumbled out of the room, looking both dazed and sleepy with his hair bunched around his face, and his chin scraggly with tiny hairs just now peeking through their pores. He lurched in the general direction of the bathroom, mumbling a barely perceptible "Ohayou, Aya." He supplemented this with a clumsy bow, performed mostly out of reflex.

Aya replied with a concise "Ohayou, Yohji," knowing perfectly well that this was not a good morning for Yohji, nor had any other been such. Yohji proceeded to stumble towards the bathroom without further comment or gesture, save only the weary and confused look he gave Aya.

A couple of minutes later, or a seemingly eternity, Yohji emerged from the bathroom, damp hair plastered to his head, framing his face, with one renegade tendril falling gracefully into his eyes. He stood in the open doorway to Aya's bedroom, clad only in a towel mounted tightly around his waist. Drops of water and perspiration clung to his flesh, which was still soft and pink from the hot water in which it had been cleansed. Aya, who had been sitting on his bed, writing secretively in a plain blue spiral bound notebook, looked at the half naked figure in his doorway and smirked.

"Yotan, If you find it necessary to parade around in let me say less than appropriate street attire in the future, please let me know ahead of time." Inwardly, Aya was pleasantly surprised at the scantily clad Yohji in his doorway, and wanted nothing more at the moment than to hold him.

Yohji, sensing Aya's pleasure and obvious discomfort, said simply, "Um, sorry to bother you, I was looking for something." He looked up with a hopeful expression, afraid he had scared Aya off forever, but bold enough to move their relationship along.

"Oh, and what something might that be?"

Yohji decided to take a risk, as he could no longer contain his love (or hormones) any longer. "Well, Aya-kun, I was actually looking for you."

This was greeted be amethyst eyes gleaming, searching his, finding the unmistakable signs of love in them. A sliver of a smile flashed across Aya's face, only to be replaced by a scowl.

"Well, Yohji, you have found me. Now that you have done so, what do you intend to do with me?" Aya raised an eyebrow, amused and curious to how the man would answer this question.

Aya received no audible answer. Without a word, Yohji cupped Aya's chin into his hand and raised it to level with his own. Yohji pressed his lips against Aya's and locked him in a silent embrace. Yohji felt no protest from the silent red head and pushed harder. They kissed passionately, while Aya struggled with his clothes. All of a sudden, there seemed to be way too many buckles and zippers.

Suddenly, Yohji pulled away with a look of pain on his face. He held Aya's head back, while the man's ruby lips searched for a target, now currently aiming for Yohji's bare stomach. Aya looked up and pouted like a small child who has his favorite toy taken away. "Why did you stop, Yotan?" he asked, looking increasingly like a small, wounded animal. "Was it me?" Aya said in a quivery, barely audible tone.

Yohji softly brushed Aya's lips, then whispered into his ear. "My dear, stubborn Aya-kun, always quick to place blame upon yourself." With this, Yohji fingered a strand of hair near Aya's ear and twirled it between his fingers, feeling its silky texture. "As much as I want you, I want you to be ready. I want us to do this right and make it special, not just the result of hormone surges."

Aya looked up at Yohji, partly disappointed but mostly relieved. "Thank you for respecting me Yohji."

Yohji lay back on the bed, Aya's body resting gently against him as a warm weight. They drifted off to sleep together, soaking up each other's warmth and love, dreaming of the day when they could handle the complications of a lover/friend relationship and are brave enough to confront their inner emotions.