Disclaimers: I don't own Aya or Youji and I don't own the lyrics to "Boys Don't Cry". Those belong to the amazing Tiffany Arbuckle of Plumb. Weiß Kreuz is owned by Project Weiß, Kyoko Tsuchiya, Koyasu Takehito, and associated parties.
Aya loves Youji, but how much? Songfic inspired by "Boys Don't Cry" by Plumb.
Warnings: Deliberate OOC for Aya and Youji. Implied shounen-ai. Dun like it, dun read. No spoilers.. I think.
" " indicate speech
- - indicate thoughts
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You sit there on the couch
Sipping your scotch and ice
You turn the TV on
And tune me out again
Aya stood at the edge of the livingroom, leaning against the door frame dispiritedly. Crimson hair fell over his violet eyes as he allowed his chin to drop, almost unable to stand to watch the scene before him. Youji, reclining back in the chair, blonde hair touseled and uncombed, the rest of him as ungroomed as the ex-assassin's hair.
The TV blared loudly; some American action movie. In Youji's limp hand was an empty glass, tipped to the side. Stains marred the carpet by the chair. It was the same every day. He had his drinks, then passed out watching some TV show or film, letting the cup tip over and spill whatever remaining conents it contained onto the floor.
So what would you say to me
If you could talk to me
You could ask anything
I wouldn't lie
But you're okay with this
Damaging awkwardness
So I'll just play it safe
And keep it inside
'Cause boys don't cry
Aya turned away, cat-like in all his movements. Aya fought back a few stinging tears, in rememberence. They never spoke more than five words to each other anymore. The red-head drifted through the house, rather ghost like.
-Why, Youji?- Aya wondered, sadly. -Why don't you ever tell me you love me anymore?- Slender fingers slid up under the sleeve of the black shirt he wore, gently caressing the bruises that he sported more often than not from Youji's rough treatment.
A few of the hot tears he tried to keep back slid down his cheeks, and he ruthlessly wiped them away. -I won't cry- he repeated to himself. He felt anger and dispair at his situation. Youji... As much as he tried to deny it, he loved Youji, not matter how many times he left, he always came back to the blonde. He always came back and faced the harsh treatment and punishments for leaving.
I used to hold your hand
So tight there was no question
But now even when you're near
I've never felt so alone
Aya froze, hearing Youji get up, in a drunken stupor, from the beaten recliner and stumble through the house, followed by the sound of shattering glass and a harsh voice calling his name. The red-head dropped his fingers and walked to Youji and sliding his arms around the blonde's waist, holding the drunken man upright, wincing as he felt strong fingers grasp his arms, adding more bruises to Aya's pale skin.
Aya looked up into Youji's green, bloodshot eyes and mentally cringed at the look of lust and anger blazing in those once beautiful eyes. Youji's grip tightened, and the stronger and taller man pulled the shorter former swordsman close. Aya didn't fight. It only caused more pain later. He blocked out the scents of an unwashed body, scotch and whiskey as Youji's lips decended on Aya's with bruising force. The older man crushed Aya against his still lithe and muscled body, forcing his tongue into the red-head's mouth, dragging them both towards the scarred and creaky staircase towards the bedroom.
If you just stand beside me
I'll keep you in my life
Tell me how much you love me
And I'll be just fine
Don't be afraid of me
Aya stood under the spray of hot water, letting the heat soothe the ache in his body and carress the new bruises and cuts that he aquired in an hour with Youji. His eyes were closed, as he stood under the cascade, trying to ignore the pig stye around him, letting the pale pink water swirl down the drain. "I love you, Youji," Aya whispered quietly.
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My first WK fanfiction. Yes, no? R&R if the inspiration strikes you.
Aya loves Youji, but how much? Songfic inspired by "Boys Don't Cry" by Plumb.
Warnings: Deliberate OOC for Aya and Youji. Implied shounen-ai. Dun like it, dun read. No spoilers.. I think.
" " indicate speech
- - indicate thoughts
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
You sit there on the couch
Sipping your scotch and ice
You turn the TV on
And tune me out again
Aya stood at the edge of the livingroom, leaning against the door frame dispiritedly. Crimson hair fell over his violet eyes as he allowed his chin to drop, almost unable to stand to watch the scene before him. Youji, reclining back in the chair, blonde hair touseled and uncombed, the rest of him as ungroomed as the ex-assassin's hair.
The TV blared loudly; some American action movie. In Youji's limp hand was an empty glass, tipped to the side. Stains marred the carpet by the chair. It was the same every day. He had his drinks, then passed out watching some TV show or film, letting the cup tip over and spill whatever remaining conents it contained onto the floor.
So what would you say to me
If you could talk to me
You could ask anything
I wouldn't lie
But you're okay with this
Damaging awkwardness
So I'll just play it safe
And keep it inside
'Cause boys don't cry
Aya turned away, cat-like in all his movements. Aya fought back a few stinging tears, in rememberence. They never spoke more than five words to each other anymore. The red-head drifted through the house, rather ghost like.
-Why, Youji?- Aya wondered, sadly. -Why don't you ever tell me you love me anymore?- Slender fingers slid up under the sleeve of the black shirt he wore, gently caressing the bruises that he sported more often than not from Youji's rough treatment.
A few of the hot tears he tried to keep back slid down his cheeks, and he ruthlessly wiped them away. -I won't cry- he repeated to himself. He felt anger and dispair at his situation. Youji... As much as he tried to deny it, he loved Youji, not matter how many times he left, he always came back to the blonde. He always came back and faced the harsh treatment and punishments for leaving.
I used to hold your hand
So tight there was no question
But now even when you're near
I've never felt so alone
Aya froze, hearing Youji get up, in a drunken stupor, from the beaten recliner and stumble through the house, followed by the sound of shattering glass and a harsh voice calling his name. The red-head dropped his fingers and walked to Youji and sliding his arms around the blonde's waist, holding the drunken man upright, wincing as he felt strong fingers grasp his arms, adding more bruises to Aya's pale skin.
Aya looked up into Youji's green, bloodshot eyes and mentally cringed at the look of lust and anger blazing in those once beautiful eyes. Youji's grip tightened, and the stronger and taller man pulled the shorter former swordsman close. Aya didn't fight. It only caused more pain later. He blocked out the scents of an unwashed body, scotch and whiskey as Youji's lips decended on Aya's with bruising force. The older man crushed Aya against his still lithe and muscled body, forcing his tongue into the red-head's mouth, dragging them both towards the scarred and creaky staircase towards the bedroom.
If you just stand beside me
I'll keep you in my life
Tell me how much you love me
And I'll be just fine
Don't be afraid of me
Aya stood under the spray of hot water, letting the heat soothe the ache in his body and carress the new bruises and cuts that he aquired in an hour with Youji. His eyes were closed, as he stood under the cascade, trying to ignore the pig stye around him, letting the pale pink water swirl down the drain. "I love you, Youji," Aya whispered quietly.
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My first WK fanfiction. Yes, no? R&R if the inspiration strikes you.
