Youji carefully walked down the hall to his room, one hand blindly groping for his doorknob. He shut the door and slid down it to sit on the ground with a sigh. "Ow," he said to no one in particular.
It had taken supreme effort for him to walk out of Aya's room without looking like a fool. Of course, he had already proved he was an idiot, so what did it really matter? You really screwed this one up, Kudou. His head was pounding in an incessant rhythm that threatened to develop into one hell of a migraine. He rubbed his temples wearily, wishing for a magic bottle of aspirin.
"Shouldn't have done that," he admonished himself, standing slowly.
He managed to get to his bed, hitting it face first in an attempt to lay down before he fell down. Rolling over to rest on his back, he covered his eyes with an arm and thought about how Aya had reacted.
Guess he had some thinking to do.
Did he really want to do this? He had decided before that a relationship wasn't really what he was looking for. It had sounded like Aya might be willing to consider something more serious, if he was reading things right, though. However, Youji wasn't sure if he was willing. It was so soon after her . . .
For God's sake, they were both fucking assassins! One of them could die on a mission tomorrow. Was he willing to take that risk?
He didn't know. He truly didn't know.
He didn't want to be left behind again.
Aya sat down heavily in his armchair, dropping his head into his hands. Youji had the power to make him so angry he lost control. He had to think rationally about this. Unfortunately, with his heart and his body teaming up against his mind, rational thought was difficult to achieve.
He had handled the situation badly; he knew that. Youji brought out the worst in him, it seemed. His teammate appeared bent on getting him into bed. And was that such a bad thing? He closed his eyes, remembering the feel of Youji's breath on his neck, smelling the faint scent of him that still lingered in the room.
But what if sex was all Youji wanted? Aya knew that he would needed more out of a relationship than just a quick release. The blond was a notorious playboy, and might just be looking for a quick fling, although Aya was willing to give him credit for more brains than that. Youji was smart enough to know that relationships that damaged the dynamics of the team were a bad idea. He had learned his lesson with Neu. So did that mean he wanted more?
He pressed his eyes with his fingertips, trying to decide what to do. Confront Youji or ignore him? Ignoring him hadn't seemed to work so well. He laughed shortly. No, it hadn't worked at all. Youji had just pushed a little harder. Well, the least he could do was stop by and make sure he really hadn't given Youji a concussion. He could even (though the thought of it stuck in his throat) apologize for his violent behavior.
He needed to have a nice talk with Youji Kudou.
Youji was startled out of his light doze by a business-like rap on his door. "What?" he called out sleepily.
"It's me," Aya said, just loud enough to be heard through the door.
Youji sat up in surprise. "Oh," he said, glancing around his room to make sure it wasn't too dirty. "Well, it's unlocked."
Aya blinked slowly as he closed the door behind him, letting his eyes adjust to the dimness of Youji's room. He looked around, trying to be nonchalant. The first word that came to mind was clutter. Every available surface was covered with knickknacks, magazines, clothes, decks of cards, shells, ashtrays, candles . . . it seemed as if Youji collected stuff. There were no pictures. Just like the rest of them, Youji had cut off ties to the real world a long time ago. A leather armchair sat near the window. The drapes were closed, but fluttering from a slight breeze. Aya felt goose bumps raise on his arms. He smoothed them unconsciously. "Do you bring people here?" he asked suddenly.
Youji ignored Aya's question. Sometimes he did, sometimes he didn't. It was hard to explain. "What do you want?" he asked, feeling around on the floor for his cigarettes.
"Ah," Aya stood, feeling uncomfortable. "We need to talk."
"Mm." Youji fished around in his jeans for his lighter. He lit his cigarette and inhaled deeply.
Aya walked over to the window, moving the drapes aside so he could look out. They both were silent for a moment.
"I think I owe you an apology," said Youji quietly when he was done with his cigarette.
Aya turned to look at him. His face was in shadow and Youji couldn't see his expression.
"I guess," he put his butt out on a handy plate, "I guess I don't really know what I want."
Aya turned back to the window. That figured. Youji didn't know what he wanted. That meant that, if this turned into some kind of relationship, he could walk away at any time, leaving Aya on his own again. Well, it just wasn't good enough!
Without him noticing, Youji had come up behind him. He put his hands on Aya's arms, propping his chin on Aya's shoulder. "Do you know what you want?" he whispered.
"Don't push me, Kudou," Aya said harshly. "It has to be all or nothing."
Youji stepped back. Aya could feel his skin burning where Youji had touched it. They stood that way for what seemed like an eternity.
"I'm just afraid," Youji said, almost too softly for Aya to hear.
Aya clenched his hands into fists and admitted something that he had never admitted before, not even to himself. "Me too."
Youji tentatively reached out to Aya and turned him so he could see his eyes. "Then do you?" he asked, not really knowing what the end of the question was.
"Yes," Aya whispered, his eyes burning into Youji's. He reached out and ran his fingers along the back of Youji's head. "There aren't any lumps," he said, trying to apologize.
Youji chuckled, his eyes sliding closed. "I'm not that easy to kill, am I?" he said, leaning into Aya's hand as if it were a caress.
"No."
Youji's hand came up and cupped Aya's chin. "You sure you want this?" he asked. He stared searchingly into Aya's face.
"Yes." Aya felt as though he was drowning in that forest green gaze. The shadows deepened and lengthened as they stood frozen, locked in each other's eyes.
Then Youji's lips were softly, gently exploring the contours of his mouth. He kissed back, savoring the feeling. Youji slid his tongue inside, and they spent a few moments just standing, memorizing each other's taste.
Youji slid his hands underneath Aya's shirt, caressing his back and sending teasing little shivers down his spine. He wasn't even aware that they were moving backward until his calves hit the bed. Youji chuckled at his look of surprise.
"Only as far as you want, Aya." He was suddenly serious.
"I want you," Aya said, stripping off his shirt himself and reaching for Youji. "All of you."
Youji's eyes glinted in the semi-darkness of his room and suddenly he was on his back in Youji's bed, Youji kissing him insistently and running his hands up and down Aya's skin. He pulled on Youji's shirt until he stopped and skimmed it over his head. Aya brushed his hands along Youji's back, lightly touching him, enjoying the feeling of warm, silky skin. Youji flinched when he touched two round scars, just below where his heart would be.
"Sorry," Aya murmured, stroking Youji's arms. He, too, had scars like those. The scars that never quite healed.
Youji pressed his face into Aya's chest for a moment, and then grinned. Aya could see his teeth gleaming in the dark. "It doesn't matter now," he said. He ran his hands tenderly through Aya's hair. It was as silky as he had dreamt it would be. "You're so fucking sexy, Aya," he groaned. No one, not even Asuka, had made him feel this way, as though he wanted to kiss him and never stop.
Aya felt as if he were on fire. Youji's mouth was everywhere, hot and wet. When a few licks on his nipples failed to get a response, Youji asked, "Where do you want me to touch you?"
"Neck," Aya gasped, and Youji latched onto his neck, nibbling and sucking. His tongue traced wonderful patterns over the shell of Aya's ear. His hips bucked as Youji moved to the hollow of his throat, and he arched his back, trying to touch all of him at once. He could feel the familiar tightening in his groin, and he gripped Youji's arms.
Youji kissed him once more on the mouth, hard, and then stood up and pulled his jeans off. Aya wiggled out of his pants, trying not to tangle up the important bits. When he had finally dropped them on the floor, he turned his head toward his teammate, now lover. The word sent shivers down his spine.
--CENSORED--
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--CENSORED--
"Mmmmm." Youji squeezed him slightly. "That was good," he murmured.
Aya laid his head down on Youji's chest and listened to his heart beating. Youji stroked his hair. They dozed lightly for a while, Youji sliding his fingers through Aya's hair and Aya tracing patterns on Youji's chest. There would be time for talking and planning later on. This night, they both just wanted to savor the other.
Youji dropped a kiss on the top of Aya's head. "You gonna sleep here tonight?"
Aya felt warm and safe, wrapped in Youji's arms. "My room tomorrow," he said gravely.
Youji's laugh was more movement than sound. "All right then." His arm tightened around Aya briefly and then he let his body relax. Soon, his breathing was deep and even.
Aya lay awake for a while longer, thinking strange thoughts about paths and lives. You never know when someone's gonna come along and push you off the path, he mused. But sometimes, that was the best thing. To make a new path. He fell asleep memorizing the rhythm of his lover's heart.
