Inside The Elevator

Disclaimer: No, I don't own them. In fact, I remember back in the day when all I owned was a spoon, and it was a mighty fine spoon. I could bend it, and it was shiny. God I love that spoon. So don't sue me, that spoon is all you'll get.

Warnings: This fic contains yaoi. And a hand job. If that doesn't roast your turkey, well then, you know what that little X on the top of the screen is for. The main pairing is YojhiXOmi, with hints of RanXKen. Those pairings don't fry your chicken? Again, you know what the X is for.

Yoji slammed his fists against the steel doors as if willing them to open. Which he was. It had all been going so well for him to. They killed the target, he didn't think about Omi, snuck out, he didn't dwell on how cute Omi looked with his hair all messy and his clothes wet from where he had landed in the snow after a jump from a window, they drove back to the hotel, he had paid attention to the road, not Omi, they had walked to the elevator, and god dammit, he didn't think about Omi.

"Ne, Yoji-kun. I don't think that will help. The power must have gone out from all of the snowstorms. It's useless. Just enjoy the peace." The blonde walked away from the door, knowing his attempts were useless. "I just wish it weren't so cold. Do you mind if I take off my clothes? They're soaking wet from when we had to jump out that window."

"Go ahead." Despite his seeming nonchalance Yoji was hoping he could keep his libido in check. The boy was so unknowingly seductive. His naiveté to the situation made him even more appealing.

"You should probably take off your clothes too. You'll get sick if you stay in those wet things." Yoji obliged grudgingly, knowing that an objection would raise questions as to why. He searched his discarded trench coat until he found a small silver flask. Despite his better judgment he took a swig and offered some to his companion. "Yoji-kun! You know I'm too young! I just hope you don't get drunk in case this thing starts up again."

*

Perhaps it was to help ease his nerves, or maybe he hoped the liquor could help extinguish his desire to ravage the young teen who was currently seated in the corner, possibly his motivation was to drink so much he passed out and wouldn't have to sit in a cold elevator with the object of his affections the only other occupant. Whatever the reason, Yoji soon found his flask to be empty and his thoughts a bit muddled.

"Hey, Omi," he drawled as he crawled across the floor until he was face-to-face with his friend. "Ya think Ran and Ken are worried about us? Naw, they'll be too happy to have the place all to themselves to care. Ken'll be able to scream as loud as he wants. If Ran doesn't gag and tie him up them fuck him for a few straight hours, that is." The teen blushed at the crude launage. Yoji was quite obviously plastered. "Ne, Omi."

"Hai?"

"You're cute like this. All cuddled in a corner with only your boxers." He plucked at the top of the plaid garment, his fingers barely slipping past the elastic band. "Makes me want to take you right now."

"Yo-Yoji-kun!"

"What? Like you didn't know I want to ravage you." He worked his hand all the way into Omi's boxers, his fingers stroking the soft flesh.

"Yoji! Stop, you're drunk. You don't mean that." He wrapped his fingers around Omi's flaccid cock and began to pump it clumsily but with obvious tenderness. The limp organ gradually began to harden as Yoji toyed with it. Dragging his fist over it, fingering the crushed-velvet head, grazing his nail over the slit that wept a few precious drops of precum.

He clenched his hand quickly, causing the boy to jerk his hips and gasp. Had he not been so harsh he might have pleasured Omi and not hurt him, as he originally intended. However, in his haze of drunkenness Yoji only succeed in doing the opposite of both.

"Pl-please, Yoji, stop!" The junior of the two was sobbing, his body wracked not with shivers of pleasure, but instead with great, gulping cries and pitiful pleas for his companion to cease. Yoji stopped, splaying his fingers on Omi's lower belly, his fingertips combing coarse hair.

"Do you really not want this?"

"Yes!" The single syllable brought him crashing down from his alcohol-induced reverie. He removed his hand from the boy's undergarments and fell back so that he rested on the opposite wall. Omi stood and scuttled away, the tears still cascading over his cheeks.

"Omi, I'm sorry. I don't-"

"Please Yoji-kun. Don't just, no. " The youth sunk to the floor, tears splattering on his thighs. Yoji crawled to the teen and brushed his shoulder. "Don't touch me!"

Omi buried his face in his arms, tendrils of cold wrapping their chilly hold around his body. What was he supposed to do? True, he did like Yoji in a more than friendly way, something more than adoration or comraderieship, but he had decided long ago to not do anything, not even to allow himself to name the emotion. It wasn't that he was worried about ruining their friendship, the relationship had been strained ever since his feelings developed, but he didn't want Yoji to be disgusted.

So here he was, crying, heaving for air, wary of the man whom he had always trusted, and cold, and dammit, he was still incredibly turned-on.

"Why?" Yoji was startled, after what he had done he had expected to be yelled at and possibly hit. Not questioned for his motives. "Why did you do this. Did you just want to mess with my emotions, or are you nothing but a cruel, sick bastard?"

"Because I thought you'd enjoy it."

"Enjoy what? Almost being raped?" Yoji blanched at the word rape, wishing he could deny the fact that what he had been doing could be called rape.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to hurt you. I only did it because..."

"Because why? I'd love to hear how you can justify this."

"Dammit Omi!" Yoji punched the wall, the small pain helping to clear his thoughts some. "Can't you see I'm in love with you?" The teen opened his mouth, perhaps to deny the statement, but the honesty in those words prevented him. "I'm not asking you to feel the same. I'm simply asking you to understand that I'm so fucking crazy for you I don't even know what I'm doing half the time."

"And what if I do feel the same? What if I enjoyed what you were doing before?" Omi bit his lip, unsure of how to end his confession. "The only reason I wanted you to stop was because I thought that, well, I thought you were too drunk to know what you were doing."

He felt lean arms embrace him, inhaled the scent of cigarette smoke and liquor. His head was tilted, and he supposed this was kissing, this soft, warm, slippery, melting sensation. The back of a nail traced his nipple and he jerked, ending the liplock abruptly.

"Well, someone's sensitive." Again Yoji brushed the small nub. Once, twice, thrice. Omi's hands settled on he legs he was situated between, his form trembling with the stimulation. With all of Yoji's play he might come sooner than he thought.

And then a warm hand enveloped his cock, ran it's length, encircled the head, dropped back down, and the process was repeated again. Unconsciously he spread his legs wider, wanting more of this unsettling but tender touch.

"Pl-please, Yoji, I'm gonna..." A most tongue teased his ear, ran along it's rounded edge. Omi closed his eyes and gasped, felt his cum cling to his flesh and boxers as Yoji withdrew a stick hand and suckled each of his fingers.

"You taste so good, Bishounen."

*

Yoji cracked an eye, unsure of whom he was holding and why he wasn't in bed. A tuft of blonde hair peeked out from the edge of the trechcoat draped around them. Correction, his trenchcoat. The person next to him stirred and lowered the material so it wasn't obscuring her face. Correction again, his face. "Morning Yoji."

A blink then a smile. "Looks like not only did I catch my beauty sleep, but I also got to sleep with a beauty."

"Ahem." A pair of eyes, one set green the other blue, turned to look at the now open door of the elevator and the many pairs of feet there, then raised up to the faces, some disapproving, some just irritated that the elevator was currently occupied by two nude young men.

"Good morning ladies and gentlemen. Good to see the elevator is working again. We've been stuck in here all night with nothing to do. Well, that's a lie, there was something to do. Right Omi?"

And so it went. Yoji talked, Omi blushed at some of the crude comments, their audience glare (minus a few fangirls who were giggling insanely), and back at the flower shop Ken glared at a still sleeping Ran for forgetting to untie and ungag him.

~Owari~

Author's Note: Right, well, this is just my little spot to rant. I finally finished it. Took me forever, but it's now done! If you'd be so kind to drop a review (Don't care if it's praise or criticism, but please, no flames), I'd really appreciate it. Should I write a sequel? Like what happens after they get back to the flower shop? Will Yoji restrain himself and keep his hands off Yoji? Will the fangirls stop shopping there when they learn all four of the boys are gay (Not much of a surprise though. Seriously, a flower shop?)? Will Ran ever remember to untie Ken?