Well, here it is. Since it took me so freakin' long to write it, I'm posting both parts at once. It kinda took me by surprise when it turned into 3 instead of 2. Ah well. I hope that you're pleased with it . . . it's my first time writing a lemon, so I'm not sure how it turned out.



~*~*~*~

Aya could feel his nails digging into his palm. "So you do remember," he said. What the hell am I doing? Well, no taking it back now. "I was hoping you wouldn't."

"Why not?" Youji's voice sounded strained.

Aya was afraid to look at him. "You were fucking drunk, Youji!"

"Yeah, I was," Youji admitted candidly. "And when I noticed you were there, I couldn't help myself."

Youji was stalking toward him. The little hairs on the back of Aya's neck prickled. A hand slid over his shoulder and he jumped.

"And when I got close to you," Youji pulled Aya against his chest and whispered in his ear, "And I could smell you . . ."

Aya could feel Youji's chest expanding as he drank in the air. The flower fell from his loose grasp. "Let me go," he said quietly. He didn't want to be close to anyone. Not this close.

"And I could feel your surprise," Youji continued, ignoring him completely. His hand clenched the fabric of Aya's shirt, bunching it up. "I've wanted you for a long time, Aya."

Aya stood up abruptly as the bell jingled and a horde of teenaged girls stampeded in, followed by Ken. He felt as though his face was burning.

"Hey guys," Ken said cheerfully. "I'll just take a shower and then I can come down and help."

"That's great, Ken," Youji said. He had quickly turned away from Aya and was busying himself with something at the sink. Aya could hear the lazy grin in his next words, "You can have all the ones that aren't eighteen."

"I'm not like you, Youji!" Ken retorted as he stomped up the stairs, no doubt strewing dirt and grass clippings everywhere.

"Maa, maa, no one understands me," Youji lamented, winking at a clump of schoolgirls. He went back to his abandoned arrangement and sat down.

Aya stood for a moment longer, fists clenched. How dare he. How dare he!

~*~*~*~

Youji paced the confines of his room for the millionth time. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, turn, one, two . . . Dammit!

It seemed as though a dam had broken last night when he had admitted his secrets to Aya. Now he couldn't control himself in the other man's presence. Just being in the same room with him drove him crazy. He couldn't stand it!

He wanted to have his teammate in the most intimate way . . . this had serious implications that he wasn't really ready to face yet. Screwing your team leader wasn't the best way to go about creating team unity and building trust. He knew he already had severe relationship issues that wouldn't just go away with a new partner. Aya probably wasn't the best person to expect to deal with some of his problems anyway – he had enough of his own. Hell, the guy had enough emotional baggage for two people.

But Aya hadn't seemed totally unwilling . . . oh, who was he kidding? Aya was royally pissed off. He had disappeared as soon as Ken had set foot in the store, no doubt retreating to the sanctuary of his room. They all knew better than to disturb Aya while he was in his room. Of course, the way Youji was going, Aya couldn't possibly get angrier with him. Could he?

With a conscious act of will, he stilled his restless feet and pondered this for a moment. If Aya was already seething, why not push the issue? It would resolve the situation, and knock Aya off balance, hopefully making him acquiesce to a fling, if nothing else. Maybe that was just what Youji needed to get the man out of his system. It wasn't much of a plan, and it could backfire and get his ass kicked, but he definitely didn't want to spend another day wanting Aya and not having him.

Kudou Youji was used to getting what he wanted.

~*~*~*~

Aya steamed in his room. He couldn't believe that Youji had the gall to touch him like that, let alone say those things. The small amount of respect he had for the man had dropped to almost zero after that incident in the shop. He had felt so stifled by the unsaid words and Youji's liquid stare that he had fled as soon as Ken had come back down. He didn't want to deal with it. He didn't want any of it to be happening.

He grimaced to himself. In his experience, just because you didn't want something to happen didn't necessarily mean that it wouldn't. Hell, practically his whole life was like that. In retrospect, anyway. He couldn't say that he had though much about his family being brutally murdered before it happened.

Collapsing on his bed, he let out a gusty sigh. His room was the only place in the Koneko that he felt he could actually relax. He could let his façade drop just a little bit, and stop being so driven all the time. He knew his teammates looked to his rational thinking in times of danger, and he strove to be the best leader he was capable of being.

Sometimes it wore on him, though.

Letting his face relax for what felt like the first time in days, he thought of his sister. Laughing, smiling, alive, as she once was. He shut his eyes tight against the reality of his life for a moment, immersing himself in memories of his past. Why did she have to be so close, and yet so far away?

He deliberately turned his thoughts to other matters. It was destructive to go down that path. If his sister would never wake up, then what he had done would be meaningless. He couldn't let himself think that. If only he had someone to share these thoughts with and reassure him . . . no, he couldn't. He wasn't worthy of anyone's time. Even Youji's.

He didn't need any relationships. In his experience, love only led to pain. Love? Where did that word come from? He examined it suspiciously. Surely Youji couldn't be looking for love. Most likely, he wanted a one-night stand; that was how he worked. And that was definitely not how Aya worked.

When Aya decided to do something, he threw himself into it with his whole being. His quest for revenge from Takatori, his mourning of his sister, every mission he took, all of these things he poured his very soul into. Contrary to his exterior, he was a very passionate man, and he took his beliefs very seriously. He saw his goals in sharp relief to the grayness of the world around him, and committed himself fully to reaching them.

His feelings surrounding Youji constituted one of those gray areas. This was disconcerting, to say the least. His loyalty to the team demanded that he keep his distance, so as not to compromise his leadership position. More and more insistently, however, his body demanded that he satisfy its urges. He couldn't help the way his pulse sped up when Youji was near, or the lingering heat from his touch. And his heart . . . his heart, if he cared to listen to it, craved companionship. It wanted someone to relieve the unending loneliness of his life, to chase away the demons in the night, to lower its shields and let someone completely in.

Really, it was just his brain that was resisting this persevering feeling of want. He knew that didn't deserve love. He was a murderer. But something inside him that had shriveled up and died since his sister's accident told him he needed it. He needed that humanizing influence that would make him feel more real.

~*~*~*~

Youji knocked hesitantly on Aya's door. I can't believe I'm actually going through with this, he thought wryly. I'm going to get myself killed for sure.

He was just about to knock again when Aya asked from inside, "Who is it?"

"Youji." He rubbed his damp palms nervously on his jeans. He jumped when the door was flung open.

"What do you want?" Aya asked suspiciously.

"We need to talk," Youji declared, trying to step into the room.

Aya resolutely barred his way. "So talk."

Youji barely concealed a sigh of irritation. "I hardly think it would be appropriate to discuss this out in the hallway, Aya." He glanced toward Omi's room next door. "Unless you want the whole world listening in?"

Youji could see the internal conflict reflected in Aya's eyes. His face remained impassive as he said, "Come in," and opening the door wider, stepped back.

He stepped into Aya's private sanctuary and looked curiously around. Nothing was out of place; that was to be expected. Aya's personality always had him organizing everything. A tall bookshelf filled with dog-eared books stood in one corner. Surprising. Not so much, when he stopped to think about it. What else would Aya do in here for hours at a time? Brood? Even that was a bit much for his stoic teammate.

Aya moved away from him and sat in the armchair next to the bookcase. He looked at Youji questioningly. "Well?"

Youji rubbed his hands surreptitiously on his pants again and cleared his throat. The only other place to sit was the bed, so he assumed Aya wasn't in a receptive mood. "Uh, well, it's about this afternoon." Great, I sound like a stupid high school kid, he thought. C'mon, Youji, use some of those great "ladies man" skills.

He tried again. "I just want you to know that it's true. I want you." Great. Now he was coming off as desperate.

Aya pensively drummed his fingers against the armrest. "Really," he said sarcastically.

Youji stifled a growl of irritation. Aya was so frustrating. "Really," he mocked. He took a step closer, and observed that Aya stiffened and suddenly looked wary. Ah, now he was in control again. He stepped closer yet. Yup, Aya was visibly nervous. Good.

"I want you," he purred, stalking toward Aya. "I want to touch you all over and make you scream my name."

Aya had apparently mastered his emotions, and his face settled once again into cold impassivity. His eyes glittered dangerously.

Youji knew he was venturing into hazardous territory, but he didn't want to back down now. Not when he was so close. Another step and he'd be able to touch Aya's hair. He wanted to run his fingers through it, memorizing the texture. "I want to run my fingers through your hair and make you mine." He almost growled that last word, reaching to grab Aya and pull him into an embrace.

Suddenly Aya's shoulder was in his gut and he was slamming into the wall. Aya's hands were on his shoulders and shaking him and his head was hitting the wall and his vision was going blurry and Aya was saying something . . .

~*~*~*~

Aya gripped Youji's biceps hard enough to bruise, but he didn't care. It was all he could do to control this murderous rage boiling up inside him.

"I'm not like all your women, Kudou," he hissed. "You can't just take me and leave me." He flung Youji away from him, and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Damn, Aya, I think you gave me a concussion." Youji was slowly shaking his head, hands over his face.

"Get out." Aya was afraid he would do something worse if Youji stayed. He needed to think.

"Aya," Youji began, but Aya cut him off.

"Out. Now."

Youji frowned. "Fine," he spat, turning on his heel and stalking toward the door.

Aya watched Youji go silently. He wanted to call out, to make him stop, but he ruthlessly quashed the urge. He didn't need Youji. Not if the man was just looking for a quick lay.

Youji slammed the door behind him.