Title: Mind and Love.
Warning: R, almost NC-17.
Pairing: Yohji/Aya
Warnings: have yet to see the series but have read plenty about it and read umm--what was it called again--an assassin and a white shaman I think it is called. I may be able to see the series soon if the person I bid at his auction at yahoo! auctions emails me. Also, I am not a good writer.
Email: heffeh3@yahoo.com
Website: http://thefoxgoddess.tripod.com/index.html
Part I
Yohji pushed himself up. His head pounded. The pain wasn't from a hangover. He hadn't been drinking today--or was it yesterday now? It, the pain, was from Aya.
When Yohji had awoken that morning, Omi was pounding on his door asking him if knew where Aya was. Yohji shouted that he didn't as he cursed and grabbed his head to let the pounding in there stop.
Going through his memories of the night before, he tried to remember if Aya had been home. The only thing he could remember was the phone ringing before he passed out.
Aya still hadn't come back that night. Omi started talking about looking for him. Omi had about convinced Yohji that they should look or at least contact someone. The door slammed open.
Aya staggered in.
"Aya?"
Aya stopped for a second. He raised his bowed head. The
light from above briefly reflected off the
Yohji and Omi stayed quiet as they watched him go up.
"Maybe... Maybe we should go see if he is ok," Omi said, breaking the ice that the usually ice-like Aya had created.
"I'll go." He stared at the area he had lasted seen Aya. "Stay here." Whatever had affected Aya like that was not something Omi could handle.
The door was closed but not locked when Yohji went upstairs. No light seeped out of the room. If Aya was in there, he was sitting in the dark.
"Aya," he said. Nothing. He tried louder. Nothing.
Grimacing, he opened the door ready to duck if any katana came for his head. Nothing.
"Aya." The room was black. He could barely see the outline of Aya's bed. Something was on the bed, in the middle by the dark object standing from the truly white but now looking dreary gray walls.
Aya. Aya's red hair reflected slightly where the light touched it.
"Aya, what's wrong?" He brushed his hand against Aya's turned back, just to make sure that Aya was truly there.
"Don't touch me," he screamed and jumped away. His voice was not angry. It cried out with loss and insanity.
"Aya--"
Aya turned around, backing into the headboard of the bed. Yohji tried to reach for him.
Aya's violent, violet eyes were demonic in the dull light as they stared at Yohji with no hate for the playboy, only hate for himself.
"You can't touch me." Aya sucked in a breath. "I'm sorry."
Aya rammed into Yohji.
"I, I lo--"
Yohji blanked out as he hit the wall hard.
The ache wasn't so bad. The ache didn't matter to him. It wasn't bad.
As he lay in bed waiting for the ache to recede, those haunted eyes came back to him. They were not Aya's eyes. Aya was a cold emotionless bastard, not that shattered thing that was in Aya's room yesterday. Aya couldn't be so sad. Because that would mean that Aya had emotions, and emotions meant that there was a chance for Yohji.
But Yohji didn't want that chance. He was a straight, woman lover. He did not need to have dreams about a cold teammate of his. He was a womanizer for god's sake. He didn't like man. Aya didn't have feeling for him anyway.
Yohji sat up. The sheets pilled by his waist. He was in his bed?
No, he wasn't.
The plain walls of Aya's room jailed him in. Bolting, he scurried out of bed and rushed to his own room.
He leaned against the door, knowing that he was probably blushing. He had been in Aya's bed. He had slept in there.
Why had he been in Aya's bed? Why had Aya put him there?
Oh god, he had been in Aya's bed.
He was getting a hard on just thinking of it.
"I am not gay," He repeated to himself as he flopped onto his bed. "I like woman with tits to squeeze and pussies to enjoy. I'm straight."
Closing his eyes, he reached down and grasped his erect shaft. He imagined pumping that shaft into the warm pussy of a female with large breasts and an excellent, mouth. He imagined filling that woman's pussy with his seed. He imagined the grabbing that woman's red hair as she licked his balls. Red hair? When had his fantasy girl been a redhead?
He looked down.
He screamed as he orgasm into the nice, hot mouth of Aya.
"I'm sorry," Aya said as he disappeared.
Oh god, he had just... Shaking his head to banish the thought, he buried his hand seed covered hand in his shirt as he hurried to the bathroom.
He showered under the hottest water the tap would allow to banish what he had done.
He should be trying to find out what was wrong with Aya, not jerk of to him. He should not even think Aya attractive. He was straight as a pencil.
'Ah, but some pencils are not straight, kitten.'
"Who, what, huh?" He looked around. But of course, no one was hiding in the medicine cabinet. He left the bathroom as soon as he could.
"Yohji, do you know where Aya is?"
"No." He grabbed an apple and the paper as he sat down.
"He left soon after you went up to him. He looked weird. Do you know what is up?"
"Nope." Flipping through the paper, he landed on the locals. There had been a car crash earlier that day. A trunk had slammed into the front of a car last night. The driver of the trunk had lived, the driver of the car hadn't. Not really interested, he continued on reading.
"...On a side note, the driver of the car's sister died almost twenty four hours before. The poor girl, Aya Fujimiya, had..."
Yohji dropped the paper.
He screamed.
TBC
Umm... I bet that was horribly OOC.