~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Pairing: Yoji x Ken
Rating: PG
Spoilers: none
Warnings: light shounen ai
Disclaimer: Weiß kreuz belongs to Takehito Koyasu-san and company.
Completed: Oct. 16, 2001
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
K o n e k o L i f e #02:
Thief in the Night
by Purple
The room was dark, save for the lights that illuminated from the TV screen and the table lamp. And it was late, so the TV's volume was set to low. On the sofa, one could trace the figure of a boy sitting, elbows on his knees, silently watching the soccer game telecast with utmost concentration.
Brown eyes dared not blink as the last seconds of the game dwindled down. "Come on, come on, come on..." he pleaded and hoped earnestly, quietly, his hands balled to a fist. His external stillness a stark contrast to the game's adrenaline rush of action.
He watched closely as blue and red shirts scrambled, fighting over the ball, intercepting passes with everything they got. But one player stood triumphant, his mud-covered legs delivering the ball. He was still a few yards away, and time was running out, so he decided to take his chances. He took a deep breath and gave the goal one last look before shifting his gaze back to the waiting ball; then, kicking it with all the strength left in him, sent it flying in the air, through the field, through red and blue shirts, and...
"SCOOORE!" the announcer's voice exploded.
"Yes!" Ken raised his fists in contained jubilation -- not wanting to wake anybody from the other rooms -- doing a little silly dance before plopping back into the couch. The first half of the game was over, and his team was in the lead. With eyes still on the screen, Ken grabbed for his soda can and found it was empty. Making a face, he put it back down, and pushed himself up from the sofa.
Ken was in mid-stretch and mid-yawn when he heard a bump coming from outside his room. "What the..." he trailed off, turning to his door. He checked the time in the VCR. It was half past eleven. Tonight was a mission-free night, and he thought everybody had gone off to bed. Apparently, he was mistaken.
Stepping out, Ken looked around but found no one. He then heard another bump, and it came from downstairs -- downstairs where all the lights were out; where it was obviously too dark to prepare midnight snack. Unless you liked eating in total darkness, or...you were a burglar!
The boy rushed back to his room, and came out already armed with a soccer ball -- well, he was a _soccer player_; he had _soccer balls_, not baseball bats. Holding the ball with two hands, he began to silently tiptoe his way down the stairs. So here he was, Ken thought, in the dark, fairly armed, and was creeping up on an unsuspecting public offender -- so what was new? Upon reaching the bottom, he held out one hand and easily found the switch on the wall. He took a deep breath, and gave himself a mental count off:
"One. . .two. . .three!"
The stranger almost jumped as the lights went on. Spinning his head around, he saw Ken ready to attack him with a soccer ball overhead. "Jesus, Ken, you almost gave me a heart attack!" he said in a loud whisper while clutching his chest.
Ken dropped his arms, still holding the ball, upon realizing who the person was. "Yoji?" he blurted out.
"Shh!" Yoji brought a finger to his lips. "Keep it down," he ordered.
Ken obeyed, and asked, "What are you doing?"
"Nothing," Yoji answered. Noticing the ball Ken was holding, he asked back, "What are _you_ doing?"
Ken looked at the ball in his hands, and quickly hid it behind his back. "W-Well," he cleared his throat, "I was watching a soccer game upstairs when I heard noises coming from down here," he explained, rubbing a hand on his nape. "I-I thought it was a burglar so I decided to go check and--"
"And what?" Yoji interrupted. "Kill me with a soccer ball?" he motioned to the said ball. "Excellent plan, Kenken. I'm really scared for my life now," Yoji mocked, placing his hands on his chest.
"Shut up!"
"Shh!"
"You should be thankful somebody's trying to protect our flower shop from thieves, you know!" Ken said in defense.
Yoji rolled his eyes. "What kinda idiot would try to steal from a flower shop filled with assassins?"
"Baka!" Ken shot back. "Do you think a thief would know that?"
Folding his arms, Yoji replied, "Well, judging from your weapon of choice," he nodded to the soccer ball, "No."
Ken scowled at him.
"This is nonsense," Yoji held his hands up. "Look, I'm outta here," he said, putting on the coat he had been carrying.
"Where are you going?" Ken asked.
"Out."
The younger boy rolled his eyes. "I know _that_. Where exactly is 'out'?"
"Just out," Yoji replied tersely and headed for the door.
Ken followed him. "At 11:30 in the evening?" he queried to Yoji's back.
Yoji stopped walking, and turned around. "Ken, why are you being like my mother all of a sudden?" he asked, looking at Ken like he just grew another head. "Why should you care?"
Ken blushed.
"I don't," the brunette replied sheepishly, averting his gaze. "I just think you should know that...that if Aya finds out that the reason you're late again is you went barhopping, well," he shrugged lamely, "he's gonna kill you."
"I'm not gonna go barhopping," Yoji countered. "And I'll be back here by the time the shop opens."
"Oh, you will be _back_," Ken sneered. "The question is, will you be _awake_?"
"I will be," Yoji answered, "'cause you're going to wake me up," he told Ken, lightly jabbing a finger at him. Then, folding his arms, grinned, "Or else I'm going to tell Aya about that little incident with the dehydrated lilies."
Ken's jaw dropped, "You won't."
"Oh yes, I will," Yoji nodded, still grinning.
"You blackmailing-- Ugh! I should've hit you with the ball when I had the chance," the soccer player remarked through clenched teeth.
"I know," said Yoji, grinning some more. "So," he looked down at his watch, "are you going to let this thief go or what?"
Ken rolled his eyes. "Do I have a choice?"
Yoji winked at him and turned on his heel.
"Wait," Ken ordered, making Yoji stop abruptly.
"So close," Yoji muttered to himself before turning around. "Yes?"
Ken moved a step forward. "I'm gonna let you go this time, Yoji," he told him, placing the soccer ball between his hip and his forearm. "But I'm telling you," he raised an index finger, "if you're not in that bed when I-- "
"I already told you, I will be."
"Good," Ken nodded, "'cause I'm not gonna go save your butt once Aya gives you hell -- and you know he will," he warned Yoji, grabbing for the soccer ball by his hip.
Yoji just smiled and took the ball from Ken, his long fingers coming in smooth contact with sun-tanned ones. He felt Ken froze. "Are you done?" Yoji asked quietly. His emerald gaze was soft and steady, making Ken blush.
"Uh, yeah," Ken replied, timidly slipping his hands from the ball, "I guess."
"Then let me just say two things," Yoji gestured with a peace sign. "Number one, thank you, but," -- lowering his voice to a condescending whisper -- "I think I can save my own butt," he smirked. "And number two, since you're letting me go this time, then, may I suggest that, next time," he raised the soccer ball, "use the claws," he told him, tossing the ball back to Ken. Catching the ball, Ken shifted his "what's wrong with this ball?" gaze between it and Yoji. "It's more threatening," Yoji explained, crinkling his nose.
Ken made a face, not noticing that Yoji was already a few steps less away from him. Then, in one fluid motion, elegant fingers caught Ken's chin, taking the younger boy by surprise. "And who knows," Yoji leaned forward, bringing his lips close to Ken's ear, tickling it with his warm breath as his lips stole feather-like touches.
"I just might let you catch me."
And with this, Yoji sauntered out, leaving Ken speechless, soccer ball in hand -- his external stillness a stark contrast to the wild flip-flops, electric shivers, and loud thumps inside of him.
~Owari~
Thanx for reading! ^_^ And yes, I know nothing about soccer -- and it's a shame since I really, really like Ken. .
Pairing: Yoji x Ken
Rating: PG
Spoilers: none
Warnings: light shounen ai
Disclaimer: Weiß kreuz belongs to Takehito Koyasu-san and company.
Completed: Oct. 16, 2001
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
K o n e k o L i f e #02:
Thief in the Night
by Purple
The room was dark, save for the lights that illuminated from the TV screen and the table lamp. And it was late, so the TV's volume was set to low. On the sofa, one could trace the figure of a boy sitting, elbows on his knees, silently watching the soccer game telecast with utmost concentration.
Brown eyes dared not blink as the last seconds of the game dwindled down. "Come on, come on, come on..." he pleaded and hoped earnestly, quietly, his hands balled to a fist. His external stillness a stark contrast to the game's adrenaline rush of action.
He watched closely as blue and red shirts scrambled, fighting over the ball, intercepting passes with everything they got. But one player stood triumphant, his mud-covered legs delivering the ball. He was still a few yards away, and time was running out, so he decided to take his chances. He took a deep breath and gave the goal one last look before shifting his gaze back to the waiting ball; then, kicking it with all the strength left in him, sent it flying in the air, through the field, through red and blue shirts, and...
"SCOOORE!" the announcer's voice exploded.
"Yes!" Ken raised his fists in contained jubilation -- not wanting to wake anybody from the other rooms -- doing a little silly dance before plopping back into the couch. The first half of the game was over, and his team was in the lead. With eyes still on the screen, Ken grabbed for his soda can and found it was empty. Making a face, he put it back down, and pushed himself up from the sofa.
Ken was in mid-stretch and mid-yawn when he heard a bump coming from outside his room. "What the..." he trailed off, turning to his door. He checked the time in the VCR. It was half past eleven. Tonight was a mission-free night, and he thought everybody had gone off to bed. Apparently, he was mistaken.
Stepping out, Ken looked around but found no one. He then heard another bump, and it came from downstairs -- downstairs where all the lights were out; where it was obviously too dark to prepare midnight snack. Unless you liked eating in total darkness, or...you were a burglar!
The boy rushed back to his room, and came out already armed with a soccer ball -- well, he was a _soccer player_; he had _soccer balls_, not baseball bats. Holding the ball with two hands, he began to silently tiptoe his way down the stairs. So here he was, Ken thought, in the dark, fairly armed, and was creeping up on an unsuspecting public offender -- so what was new? Upon reaching the bottom, he held out one hand and easily found the switch on the wall. He took a deep breath, and gave himself a mental count off:
"One. . .two. . .three!"
The stranger almost jumped as the lights went on. Spinning his head around, he saw Ken ready to attack him with a soccer ball overhead. "Jesus, Ken, you almost gave me a heart attack!" he said in a loud whisper while clutching his chest.
Ken dropped his arms, still holding the ball, upon realizing who the person was. "Yoji?" he blurted out.
"Shh!" Yoji brought a finger to his lips. "Keep it down," he ordered.
Ken obeyed, and asked, "What are you doing?"
"Nothing," Yoji answered. Noticing the ball Ken was holding, he asked back, "What are _you_ doing?"
Ken looked at the ball in his hands, and quickly hid it behind his back. "W-Well," he cleared his throat, "I was watching a soccer game upstairs when I heard noises coming from down here," he explained, rubbing a hand on his nape. "I-I thought it was a burglar so I decided to go check and--"
"And what?" Yoji interrupted. "Kill me with a soccer ball?" he motioned to the said ball. "Excellent plan, Kenken. I'm really scared for my life now," Yoji mocked, placing his hands on his chest.
"Shut up!"
"Shh!"
"You should be thankful somebody's trying to protect our flower shop from thieves, you know!" Ken said in defense.
Yoji rolled his eyes. "What kinda idiot would try to steal from a flower shop filled with assassins?"
"Baka!" Ken shot back. "Do you think a thief would know that?"
Folding his arms, Yoji replied, "Well, judging from your weapon of choice," he nodded to the soccer ball, "No."
Ken scowled at him.
"This is nonsense," Yoji held his hands up. "Look, I'm outta here," he said, putting on the coat he had been carrying.
"Where are you going?" Ken asked.
"Out."
The younger boy rolled his eyes. "I know _that_. Where exactly is 'out'?"
"Just out," Yoji replied tersely and headed for the door.
Ken followed him. "At 11:30 in the evening?" he queried to Yoji's back.
Yoji stopped walking, and turned around. "Ken, why are you being like my mother all of a sudden?" he asked, looking at Ken like he just grew another head. "Why should you care?"
Ken blushed.
"I don't," the brunette replied sheepishly, averting his gaze. "I just think you should know that...that if Aya finds out that the reason you're late again is you went barhopping, well," he shrugged lamely, "he's gonna kill you."
"I'm not gonna go barhopping," Yoji countered. "And I'll be back here by the time the shop opens."
"Oh, you will be _back_," Ken sneered. "The question is, will you be _awake_?"
"I will be," Yoji answered, "'cause you're going to wake me up," he told Ken, lightly jabbing a finger at him. Then, folding his arms, grinned, "Or else I'm going to tell Aya about that little incident with the dehydrated lilies."
Ken's jaw dropped, "You won't."
"Oh yes, I will," Yoji nodded, still grinning.
"You blackmailing-- Ugh! I should've hit you with the ball when I had the chance," the soccer player remarked through clenched teeth.
"I know," said Yoji, grinning some more. "So," he looked down at his watch, "are you going to let this thief go or what?"
Ken rolled his eyes. "Do I have a choice?"
Yoji winked at him and turned on his heel.
"Wait," Ken ordered, making Yoji stop abruptly.
"So close," Yoji muttered to himself before turning around. "Yes?"
Ken moved a step forward. "I'm gonna let you go this time, Yoji," he told him, placing the soccer ball between his hip and his forearm. "But I'm telling you," he raised an index finger, "if you're not in that bed when I-- "
"I already told you, I will be."
"Good," Ken nodded, "'cause I'm not gonna go save your butt once Aya gives you hell -- and you know he will," he warned Yoji, grabbing for the soccer ball by his hip.
Yoji just smiled and took the ball from Ken, his long fingers coming in smooth contact with sun-tanned ones. He felt Ken froze. "Are you done?" Yoji asked quietly. His emerald gaze was soft and steady, making Ken blush.
"Uh, yeah," Ken replied, timidly slipping his hands from the ball, "I guess."
"Then let me just say two things," Yoji gestured with a peace sign. "Number one, thank you, but," -- lowering his voice to a condescending whisper -- "I think I can save my own butt," he smirked. "And number two, since you're letting me go this time, then, may I suggest that, next time," he raised the soccer ball, "use the claws," he told him, tossing the ball back to Ken. Catching the ball, Ken shifted his "what's wrong with this ball?" gaze between it and Yoji. "It's more threatening," Yoji explained, crinkling his nose.
Ken made a face, not noticing that Yoji was already a few steps less away from him. Then, in one fluid motion, elegant fingers caught Ken's chin, taking the younger boy by surprise. "And who knows," Yoji leaned forward, bringing his lips close to Ken's ear, tickling it with his warm breath as his lips stole feather-like touches.
"I just might let you catch me."
And with this, Yoji sauntered out, leaving Ken speechless, soccer ball in hand -- his external stillness a stark contrast to the wild flip-flops, electric shivers, and loud thumps inside of him.
~Owari~
Thanx for reading! ^_^ And yes, I know nothing about soccer -- and it's a shame since I really, really like Ken. .