Whoopee! This fic is getting itself written. We all know what Omi thinks of this little situation were having. But what does Ken think? Want to find out? Read on...
Untitled
By: Yuri-chan
~*~*~
Disclaimers: I don't own WeißKreuz or the boys. Though it would sure be fun if I did.
~*~*~
Ken sat on the work bench staring intently at the arrangement in front of him. First the red ones. There... not the little white ones. A bit of green... there, all done. Now, what else? He looked up and glanced at the bare room that doubled as their work area. His gaze settled on his fellow kitten that was busy cutting flowers for the arrangements they were making.
Something was up. Omi looked distracted the whole day, and he was jumpy most of the time. Youji kept hinting about love life the whole day and maybe that was one of the reasons Omi seemed so bothered. But why would he be bothered? Unless of course, there was some truth in Youji's words. What was it that the ex-detective said again? Athletic. Omi liked athletic girls with dark hair. Girls? Well, Omi didn't exactly say he liked girls. But that was a given, wasn't it? He was male, he should like girls. But then again, it doesn't necessarily follow that he should. Who knows? Maybe Omi liked both girls and boys. Like he did.
What was he thinking? He really should not interfere with his fellow kitten's love life. He should leave the meddling to Youji. The least he could do is cheer Omi up. Take the younger boy's mind off whatever is bothering him. He rather missed seeing Omi cheerful. He could get Omi some food, food always worked when his favorite soccer team lost. Or better yet, he could take Omi out for dinner. That way it'll be something new for both of them.
Ken took another glance at Omi and was surprised to see the younger boy looking at him. Ken gave him a smile, which Omi returned half-heartedly before turning his attention back to the flowers.
Omi nearly jumped as he felt Ken's hand on his shoulder.
"Hey, wanna go out for dinner. We've done quite a bit. We can finish it later." Ken said giving the wide-eyed Omi another smile.
"Dinner?"
"Yeah. It's almost time for dinner. We could eat out, my treat!"
"Eat out?"
"Yeah. Come on!" Ken said pulling the younger boy to his feet. "You need food."
"I do?"
"Yes you do." Ken shook his head as Omi slowly moved to follow him outside to where their bikes were parked. Something was definitely wrong with Omi. He seemed so out of it. He needed some cheering up.
~*~*~
"Kenkun, where are we?" Omi asked, looking around him nervously, drinking in the neon lights and half-drunk couples swaying to the loud music blaring from the speakers.
Ken chuckled, ruffling Omi's hair. "It's a disco, silly. Don't tell me you haven't been to one before."
"What I mean is... what are we doing here? I thought we're going to have dinner?"
"They serve great food." Ken said smiling, noting Omi's uneasiness. "Let's sit over there." he added leading the younger boy to a booth in the corner.
Omi just nodded still looking around as they made their way to their seat. Ken was right. It was a nice place. The dance floor was situated a good distance from the booths so it was possible to have a decent conversation without yelling your heads off. Aside from the booths, there were also a couple of tables situated closer to the dance floor.
Both boys ate in silence, Omi self-consciously watching his food and Ken watching Omi.
Something was definitely wrong with Omi. He broods too much. He needs to unwind.
"Hey, Omi," Ken began as their plates were cleared. "you okay?"
"Yeah." Omi said, giving him a smile that somehow didn't convince Ken. "This is a nice place. Thanks for taking me here."
"Sure, no problem."
"You go here often?"
"Yeah. Before."
"I see."
"Look, Omi, if something's bothering you.... well, I'm here to listen, okay?"
"I know Ken." Omi said giving Ken another smile.
"If its Youji, you know better than to listen to him. You know how he is..." Ken added.
"I'm okay Ken. Really."
"Okay, if you say so." Ken smiled back. "Let's dance!"
~*~*~
A/N: More OOCness. I don't know what to do with them! They are being stubborn!
~*~*~
Yuri Maxwell
shini-gami@excite.com
Untitled
By: Yuri-chan
~*~*~
Disclaimers: I don't own WeißKreuz or the boys. Though it would sure be fun if I did.
~*~*~
Ken sat on the work bench staring intently at the arrangement in front of him. First the red ones. There... not the little white ones. A bit of green... there, all done. Now, what else? He looked up and glanced at the bare room that doubled as their work area. His gaze settled on his fellow kitten that was busy cutting flowers for the arrangements they were making.
Something was up. Omi looked distracted the whole day, and he was jumpy most of the time. Youji kept hinting about love life the whole day and maybe that was one of the reasons Omi seemed so bothered. But why would he be bothered? Unless of course, there was some truth in Youji's words. What was it that the ex-detective said again? Athletic. Omi liked athletic girls with dark hair. Girls? Well, Omi didn't exactly say he liked girls. But that was a given, wasn't it? He was male, he should like girls. But then again, it doesn't necessarily follow that he should. Who knows? Maybe Omi liked both girls and boys. Like he did.
What was he thinking? He really should not interfere with his fellow kitten's love life. He should leave the meddling to Youji. The least he could do is cheer Omi up. Take the younger boy's mind off whatever is bothering him. He rather missed seeing Omi cheerful. He could get Omi some food, food always worked when his favorite soccer team lost. Or better yet, he could take Omi out for dinner. That way it'll be something new for both of them.
Ken took another glance at Omi and was surprised to see the younger boy looking at him. Ken gave him a smile, which Omi returned half-heartedly before turning his attention back to the flowers.
Omi nearly jumped as he felt Ken's hand on his shoulder.
"Hey, wanna go out for dinner. We've done quite a bit. We can finish it later." Ken said giving the wide-eyed Omi another smile.
"Dinner?"
"Yeah. It's almost time for dinner. We could eat out, my treat!"
"Eat out?"
"Yeah. Come on!" Ken said pulling the younger boy to his feet. "You need food."
"I do?"
"Yes you do." Ken shook his head as Omi slowly moved to follow him outside to where their bikes were parked. Something was definitely wrong with Omi. He seemed so out of it. He needed some cheering up.
~*~*~
"Kenkun, where are we?" Omi asked, looking around him nervously, drinking in the neon lights and half-drunk couples swaying to the loud music blaring from the speakers.
Ken chuckled, ruffling Omi's hair. "It's a disco, silly. Don't tell me you haven't been to one before."
"What I mean is... what are we doing here? I thought we're going to have dinner?"
"They serve great food." Ken said smiling, noting Omi's uneasiness. "Let's sit over there." he added leading the younger boy to a booth in the corner.
Omi just nodded still looking around as they made their way to their seat. Ken was right. It was a nice place. The dance floor was situated a good distance from the booths so it was possible to have a decent conversation without yelling your heads off. Aside from the booths, there were also a couple of tables situated closer to the dance floor.
Both boys ate in silence, Omi self-consciously watching his food and Ken watching Omi.
Something was definitely wrong with Omi. He broods too much. He needs to unwind.
"Hey, Omi," Ken began as their plates were cleared. "you okay?"
"Yeah." Omi said, giving him a smile that somehow didn't convince Ken. "This is a nice place. Thanks for taking me here."
"Sure, no problem."
"You go here often?"
"Yeah. Before."
"I see."
"Look, Omi, if something's bothering you.... well, I'm here to listen, okay?"
"I know Ken." Omi said giving Ken another smile.
"If its Youji, you know better than to listen to him. You know how he is..." Ken added.
"I'm okay Ken. Really."
"Okay, if you say so." Ken smiled back. "Let's dance!"
~*~*~
A/N: More OOCness. I don't know what to do with them! They are being stubborn!
~*~*~
Yuri Maxwell
shini-gami@excite.com