Omi Hopeful
Chapter Two
Disclaimers:
I don't own WK, and really, I'm just writing this one for fun.
Notes: This version is just because I'm feeling a little blocked, so little chapters might be all I can do for a little while. I'll get back to longer chapters sometime soon.
Youji stood there, back against Omi's door. He didn't remember the night they'd gone to the club to get information and movement on their target. He did remember before the club thinking that Omi was sexy, older than he'd been last time Youji looked. The kid was as tall as Youji now and more muscular, solid arms and wide shoulders. That wasn't all that surprising, maybe because of the weapons Omi used were all bow type, or darts. And Youji realized he was standing there in the dark, in Omi's room, thinking about anything except how looking at Omi made him feel.
"You okay, Youji kun?" Omi asked, a voice like a beacon in the darkness of Youji's heart and the night filled room.
"My ribs will heal," he said, side stepping. "You have a bad dream?"
"Yeah," Omi said, sheets rustling softly. "Why are you up?"
"Got up to take a piss," Youji said, hand still on the doorknob. "You want to go down and get something to eat? Talk about your dream and stuff? That'll make it go away."
Omi's feet padded across the floor. "I was thinking we might stay here and maybe talk about the good part of my dream where you were dancing and you smiled at me, like you might be interested."
That room must be smaller than Youji had thought because before he knew it, Omi's fingers were reaching out to touch him in the dark. Youji didn't know what to say, didn't know how to move, away or towards. Voice small, he asked, lips moving against Omi's thumb, "What are you doing?"
"Asking if you're interested," Omi said softly, bare chest close enough to feel warm against Youji's skin. "So? Are you?"
"I'm not interested in being your duck buddy," Youji said, after a long pause. He did want Omi sexually, wanted him the way flowers want sunlight, as if he could just rise and float towards him. Duck buddies were easy to come by though. What he wanted was someone who would touch him the way Omi was now, tenderly, impossibly kind and full of so much electric.
"Good. I don't want to be your duck buddy either," Omi said, punctuating with a soft kiss to Youji's lips, just lightly brushing lips to lips. "Lay down with me? Just stay with me tonight? Wake up with me?"
"Tomorrow? The others will know."
"Good. I want them to know," Omi took Youji's hand and drew him towards the bed, pausing when he felt the awkwardness in Youji's battered body. He turned back around and covered Youji's hand his other hand as well. "I just want to hold you, real gentle like."
"Why?" Youji tried not to limp, tried not to cry. "Omi? You don't have to do this? I'm okay, you know?"
"I want you with me because I want you," Omi scooted onto the bed, drawing Youji down near him.
Even with the lights off, as Youji slipped back into sleep, his breathing, his warm comforted Omi. Laying on his side, he imagined Youji's smiling face in his mind, and whispered, "I love you."