Obsession Confession

By: Anna Hibiki

Rating: R/NC-17 (it's going up).

Disclaimers: Weiss is not mine! Koyasu-sama and other people with much more money than me owns it.

Warnings: Shonen-ai/Yaoi, angst.

Notes: Anything written in Italic are thoughts.

This fic can be read in and Wish I had the time to thank all the reviewers… anyway, consider yourself hugged, kissed and thanked if you reviewed! I'm sorry this took this long to update, but there was nothing I could do to help it after losing all my data I have to rewrite all the stuff I had ready to update. I'm also quite busy writing other stuff so I have Weiss kinda abandoned, but don't worry, I'll be fully back to WK as soon as possible! This is pretty short but it's all I can do if I want to start updating. Updates on everything else will come eventually.

You can also blame The Libertines for stopping me from writing Weiss.

Again, sorry and I hope I can update sooner next time.

sighs Feels so strange to update a WK fic after so long…

Chapter 12

Anxious.

It was the only word that could describe Aya's state best.

For far too many minutes he'd stood in front of the hotel room's door, not daring to do or say anything. But it was time to do something, he just couldn't stay there like that until the next day.

Maybe it was the fact that for a while he hadn't felt followed anymore or just that his conscience was occupied with another thing at the moment. The thing was that he had to do something.

So Aya composed himself and knocked firmly, waiting for a response.

But time passed and there was no answer.

The Weiss assassin knocked again, harder, but the result was the same.

Angry and tired of waiting, Aya twisted the doorknob and the door opened instantly, showing the assassin the white place he'd been into before.

Strangely enough, once inside, Aya got the impression that he was alone there, something that was confirmed after a quick exploration of the place.

"What the fuck is going on?" he wondered to himself.

Where was Crawford? The American was supposed to be there, wasn't he?

But no, there was no Crawford around.

Aya knew he was alone in the bedroom, but wanted to be completely sure that there was no sign of Crawford having been there recently.

Confused and somewhat angry, the redheaded assassin sat onto the enormous white bed they had used the first time they'd been there and jumped off it when he heard a crumpling sound.

Aya realised there was a sheet of paper onto the bed that he hadn't seen before and calmed.

Without hesitation Aya grabbed it and turned the now slightly crumpled sheet of paper around, discovering, as he had assumed already, that there was something written on it. And it had to be from Crawford, because at the bottom of the paper it was written neatly 'Schwarz'.

An address… why would Crawford give him another address if they were supposed to meet in that hotel? What kind of a joke was that?

Aya felt manipulated, like Crawford expected him to do whatever he wanted the moment he wanted. Like Crawford KNEW that he had long ago lost control over his obsession, letting it lead him, his acts, his… everything.

Taking a second look at the address, Aya realised that they were familiar to him. He had been there before…

Yes. A few months ago, after a long, exhausting mission, when they came back to their city, the four members of Weiss had to stop at a small, crappy motel to spend the night because Aya's car had decided it wouldn't take them back home that night.

Luckily it hadn't stopped in the middle of a road and between the four of them directed it to that place without further problems. They had something to eat in a bar next to the motel and divided in two rooms to spend the night. Omi had insisted he didn't want to spend the night with Youji and Ken, who being as stupid as always had ended up getting drunk and taking one of the bedrooms before the whole group decided who was sleeping with who.

Not that Omi would have stayed with them if they hadn't been drunk anyway. He always did all he could to be left alone with Aya, the redhead knew it, and didn't care.

Aya stopped dead on his tracks after leaving the expensive suite.

If Crawford had paid for such an expensive place, why had he told him to go to another? Did he think he'd follow around wherever AND whenever he wanted? The thought that the precog knew him so well was terrifying.

As he went back to the place where he left his car, Aya mentally cursed himself for taking the road towards the motel instead of going back home, which was what he thought he should have done.

The truth was that the swordsman's mind wasn't working well that night. He felt somewhat confused and dizzy, slowly slipping out of control.

So it's no surprise that when he finally parked his car next to the only other car outside the ruinous building and headed for the room Crawford had written down, the first thing he did when the door opened was grab the American by the collar of his shirt and lose whatever little dignity he had left, if he had any, by submitting again to his enemy and obsession.

"Mn…" Ken groaned in agony and shut his eyes as tightly as he could as he started to wake up and take conscience of the world around him.

How much did he drink? The sick feeling in his stomach and the start of what would be a horrible headache a few hours later seemed to say that the brunette probably drank a little too much.

And where the fuck am I? Ken was lying on a bed that wasn't his. It wasn't something he was going to panic about though. After all it wasn't the first time it had happened.

A slight shift on his position and the soreness it brought confirmed the Weiss assassin's suspiccions: he had sex with some random stranger. And it was okay, as it had been okay all the times he'd done it in the past and would probably do in the future.

It was nothing to worry about.

Ken wasn't the cute naïve little virgin only focused in soccer his teammates, the fangirls from the Koneko, and even Schwarz seemed to think he was.

Let's be realistic for a moment. Yes, Ken was kind of shy and had this somewhat naïve look that could make him look like the perfect picture of innocence. He wasn't a slut either. He wasn't Youji.

BUT, the assassin known as Siberian was a nineteen year old male who went out from time to time and got drunk, went to clubs and if he had sex with anyone, it was only his business. Not Weiss', not the fangirl's, certainly not Schwarz's. Not even Youji's.

After all the brunette wasn't going to spend his whole life kicking a soccer ball around while waiting for his teammate to look at something other than his own reflection on a fucking mirror.

Ken knew how to enjoy the few good things life gave him, and so he did.

And, judging by the sated feeling all over his body if one didn't count the soreness on his ass and the effects from the alcohol, last night had been good. He'd dare say that it had been really good.

Ken couldn't remember anything from the previous hours though. Didn't mind anyway.

Sighing, Ken realised it was still the middle of the night. How long had it been since he had left home to go see what Aya was doing? Just a few hours.

It had been so weird… He had left his motorbyke somewhere when Aya parked his car and followed the redhead for a while.

But Ken had suddenly felt the impulse to go into a bar, and the rest was confusing and blurry. He briefly wondered what had happened to his teammate.

All Ken wanted to do at the moment was going back to sleep, and if whoever had fucked him was there by the time he woke up, ask for more. After all what had happened lately in his life, the brunette really needed a distraction in the form of another body, on it's warmth.

The Weiss assassin wasn't alone in the room, that for sure. There was another body on the bed. Even though they were far enough not to touch, the warmth and the scent of another person lying there was present.

Yawning loudly, Ken turned around so he was lying onto his back, draping an arm over his eyes and willing sleep to take him as far as possible from reality.

But as usual, curiosity killed the cat. So Ken scrubbed at his eyes and turned his face to the side to see the kind of guy he had slept with.

And he nearly jumped out of the bed when he saw a smirk he hated too much, attached to the face of someone he just wished he had never met in his life. "Fuck no…" Ken moaned, sitting up and shakily rising to his feet.

Schuldig's smirk only got wider. "I think there is no need for me to reply to that kitty."

Ken grabbed onto the wall to avoid falling as a wave of nausea passed through him at the quick movement and his legs threatened with stop holding him onto his feet. Ken just barely succeeded in not throwing up as he glared at his mortal enemy, who lay sprawled onto the bed, smirking lazily, looking more satisfied and crueler than ever if that was possible.

"And for I moment I thought you were acting maturely… such a pity you're still a brat." Schuldig mocked.

Ken looked around for his clothes, trying to get to them without falling or throwing up meanwhile. "What the hell have I gotten myself into? I knew this would end up happening…" he muttered to himself.

"Oh… kitty?" Schuldig said as he sat onto the bed, narrowing his eyes slightly so he could see better what he was looking at.

The brunette glared at his enemy with all his might, daring him to say anything else.

And of course, the telepath didn't let the chance go. "Here." He said pointing to his chin, the smirk going back into it's place. "You should wash your face before anyone sees you and realises what you've been doing…"

Realisation of what the German meant hit Ken almost instantly. He reached up to wipe at his chin with his hand and this time he couldn't help it and ran into the small bathroom the room had, being just in time to throw up in the toilet.

It was a miracle that Ken's legs hadn't failed before, but they did at that moment, refusing to move as he emptied what little was left in his stomach.

Even though the Weiss assassin thought that an eternity had passed until he'd managed to leave the hotel and found a cab, the truth was that not even ten minutes had passed.

When Aya parked his car and went into the house where Weiss lived, he'd expected the others to be sleeping already, but to his surprise he found that the kitchen lights were on.

He soon saw that Ken was there, but didn't bother going into the kitchen. There was no need to do it, and Ken didn't look like he wanted to see anyone at the moment, which was great because Aya didn't want to face any of his teammates. Especially not the one who probably knew the most what was going on.

Not after what he'd done.

It had been like the other time. First he'd let Crawford do whatever he wantedd to him, and afterwards came the shame and the horror of knowing how weak he really was.

As Aya opened the bathroom's door he heard the front door opening.

Youji.

For a few seconds the redhead stood in front of the door, waiting to see if Youji was going upstairs or not. The quiet steps heading towards the kitchen and the playboy's voice saying something to Ken were a guarantee that he could shower quietly.

Tsu zu ku…

1 glares Hadn't this fic have been in their conversation would have been a little longer and more explicit. But I just didn't feel like making two versions because of just a few words, I'm fed up with that. We all know what Schu meant anyway, don't we?