A Brief Encounter
Yohji, Ken, and Omi stood around the apartment's washing machine, each eyeing it carefully. Omi reached in and pulled out the single piece of red cloth from the chamber, looked at it, and sighed.
"I'm not telling him." He stated simply.
Yohji sputtered around his cigarette, "I'm sure as hell not gonna tell him!" They both looked at Ken. "This is yours, right Ken?" Yohji jerked his thumb at the red jersey in Omi's hand. Ken glared at Yohji and nodded.
"I wasn't the one doing the laundry." He protested, arms crossed over his chest. "You were. Besides, I told him last time." Ken shuddered. "I am not going again!"
The three looked into the washer at the now slightly pink load of whites.
"Wasn't my shirt, wasn't me doing the laundry today," Omi declared, "You two settle it."
"Fine then, we settle this the proper way," Yohji smirked, "we play for it." He put his fist out and looked at Ken, who grumbled and did the same. They started the chant as one.
"Jan Ken Pon." Ken almost always picked 'Ken' first, a fact which the others knew and never failed to use to their advantage. Thus, as usual, he lost. Yohji smirked and patted Ken on the shoulder.
"Good luck, you're going to need it." He said as he went about finishing the laundry. Ken stood there for a moment, a worried look on his face before he steeled himself. It wouldn't be so bad right? Aya was a reasonable human being, right? And he was a trained assassin, fully capable of dealing with his teammate, even when the redhead was in the midst of OCD induced rage.
Yeah, right, and the wedgie incident never happened.
With that thought in mind, Ken strode off to Aya's room, where the swordsman was wallowing in his angst as usual. He knocked on the door and waited patiently for an answer, all the while telling himself there was absolutely no reason for him to be so nervous. Aya opened the door, greeting Ken in his typical sunny manner.
"What?"
"Um, you have a kind of unconventional color sense, right? I mean, that *sweater* and all....so you're comfortable enough in your masculinity that having pink underwear isn't going to upset you too much, right? Good, bye--I'm just going to run for my life now."
Ken turned quickly and used all his soccer honed skills to flee, flee, flee. Yohji was standing in his doorway smoking as a brown-haired streak rushed by.
"Way to show your courage KenKen!" He called, laughing and glad it wasn't him. All of five seconds later bright red hair and a very sharp object came into view, stalking by Yohji with a glare that silenced any comment.
A shriek and a thump informed him that Aya had caught his
target. Ken found himself pressed
against a wall with that damn katana far too close to his tender flesh. In a flash of surprisingly quick thinking,
Ken realized just how to diffuse the situation.
"I don't wanna die I
don't wanna die Yohji was doing the laundry it's all his fault I just lost Jan
Ken Pon please don't kill me"
If there was one thing Aya knew about Ken, it was that he was a terrible liar
under pressure—especially when the pressure was Aya. Aya also knew as well as the others did that
Ken always lost Jan Ken Pon. So, the
swordsman dropped Ken and spun on his heels, back to an unsuspecting
Yohji. Yohji, unfortunately, had
forgotten that Ken certainly knew enough to pass the buck.
"Yohji! Die!" Aya raised the katana. Yohji backed up. Time to think fast and talk even faster.
"Hey, calm down, it's only underwear. I mean death for discoloration? That's hardly an adult way to deal with the problem...."
"They're pink" growled Aya, pressing Yohji through his open door. Omi and Ken watched the action from around the corner—a nice, safe distance out of Aya's line of ire.
Yohji decided to change tactics. If you can't reason with them, flirt.
"Hell" He said, flashing Aya a crooked smile, "You could always come in and forget about wearing anything at all." Aya blinked and paused just long enough for Yohji to think he was considering it.
"You're trying to distract me." He grumbled. Yohji wrapped a long arm around Aya's neck and leaned in.
"I think you'd look pretty in pink—but you'd look stunning nude." Aya didn't resist as Yohji drew him in for a kiss.
Omi and Ken's eyes grew wide at the sight of their frosty leader allowing Yohji to get that close. Omi suppressed a giggle at how cute the two looked together. Aya noticed the audience and pushed Yohji through the door, slamming it behind them. There were better things to do with a mouth than utter cheesy lines like that.
"I can't believe they're doing that." Stated Ken in wonder. Omi turned big, cute eyes on the other boy.
"But Ken, we do that all the time!"
"We're not Aya!" Ken shook his
head. "I mean…Aya!" Omi grabbed him by the arm, pulling him off to bed.
********
Not long after…
Yohji yawned as he slunk down the stairs to the meeting room below the flower shop. He paused when he noticed Ken asleep on the couch. Not one to pass up the chance to torment his teammates, Yohji gave the couch a good shove, startling Ken awake. He just managed to stay on the couch, much to Yohji's annoyance.
"Good morning Ken. Omi have a test tomorrow?" He couldn't remember Ken doing anything too stupid the day before, so schoolwork was likely the reason Ken was sleeping on the couch instead of Omi's bed.
Ken raised one arm just enough to give Yohji a rude gesture. Yohji just laughed.
"Your morning conversation skills are sharp as ever I see."
"Stupid Kritiker, getting us a building with only three apartments. Why the hell did I end up the one without a room again? Oh yeah, 'cause sword boy joined up late, and I got to be the one tossed out." Ken managed to complain without actually getting up from his meld with the couch.
"You could have roomed with either of us."
"Yeah right. I don't want to know what goes on in your room.
And Mr. Angst would have killed me for even suggesting it. At least Omi's
cute."
"I bet he cuddles too." Yohji snickered. Ken threw a couch cushion at him,
missing him entirely.
"Shut up. I'm going back to sleep." Yohji walked around the mission supplies to the closet where they kept the washer and dryer. It didn't look like any of the laundry had been done. Darn it, since that last little mix-up, Yohji wasn't allowed to wash whites and delicates, and he needed clean underwear. Yohji mumbled a curse as he realized it was Omi's turn. Omi, who was obviously studying, and studying hard if he was still at it from last night. Interrupting Omi when he was focused enough to kick Ken out of the room was dangerous, for a school-stressed Omi tended to throw things, and unlike Ken, Omi almost never missed. He also threw whatever was handy, and those books really hurt.
Aya, of course, was off wherever he went to wallow in his angst on his day off.
He could do a load of just his, but then the others would complain.
"Oh, Ken?"
"No"
"But…"
"No, I will not do the laundry. No, you can not touch the whites and delicates pile. Go away." Actually, the last sounded more like 'geway' as Ken resumed his nap. Fine. He didn't really feeling like doing laundry anyway. Yohji stalked back up stairs as an idea struck him. Aya, dear obsessive Aya, always had lots of clean underwear—and it wasn't like he hadn't already been in Aya's pants.
Later that night…
Yohji lay back and enjoyed the feeling of Aya kissing down his bare chest, content to allow his lover to do as he pleased. Sex was such a wonderful way to end the day. That thought and others scattered as Aya stripped Yohji's pants off, leaving him only in his underwear. Yohji was expecting things to progress from there, so he was quite surprised when nothing happened.
"Um, Aya?" Yohji opened his eyes to see Aya staring down at him.
"Aya? You're really killing the mood here…you know, you aren't supposed to stop at this point." Aya glanced up at him, glaring.
"My underwear." He stated coldly.
"Huh?"
"You. Are wearing. MY underwear." Aya got up off the bed and backed away. Now he would never be able to wear that pair again.
"Well, if you want them back, you could always come take them off." Aya just looked at him and started to gather up Yohji's clothes. Grabbing Yohji by the wrist, he pulled him off the bed and out the door.
"Hey, Aya, this is going a little far, I mean, mine were all dirty." Yohji sputtered. Aya bundled Yohji's clothing into his arms and slammed the door in his face. Yohji stared in baffled shock at the door. The door to the next apartment opened, and Omi and Ken leaned out.
"And he's re-JECTED! We have the shove-out followed by a classic door slam. Looks like Kudou is sleeping alone tonight." Ken barely kept from laughing during his sports commentary. Yohji turned and flipped him off before stalking away with as much dignity as a man clad in only his underwear can manage. Stupid OCD.
The next morning Yohji opened his door to find a box sitting in front of it. Pulling off the lid, he found all of his underwear—clean and neatly folded, as well as some new pairs. Black Silk? He thought with a grin. Then he noticed the waistbands.
His name, written with a felt pen, on every pair.
"AYA!"