Poison–songfic: "Poison" by Alice Cooper using Yohji/Aya sequel to "As Lover's Go"' Which...I no longer have on my computer... ;;;

Key to reading: thoughts song

Aya slipped into the cascade of steaming water just after hitting the button on the stereo he'd balanced precariously on the too-small counter. It was really Omi's, the boy sometimes listened to it when he took his shower in the mornings. It helped him wake up for school.

But where the youngest Weiss boy chose pop rock or the occasional solid gold oldies CD, Aya chose something rather different. All the lights were off and even the small window had been covered by a thick towel. If there was one thing Yohji had taught him, it was that occasionally complete darkness suited the mood. Yohji...

The beat of ominous sounding drums in accompaniment with mellow guitars picked up, moving slowly toward its climax. Faster the drums beat, more baleful sounded the guitars and then a whispered voice addressed the darkened bathroom. "Be careful with that axe Eugene..."

This was what Aya had been waiting for. He reached out of the water and cranked up the radio, he braced his arms against the wall and let the liquid heat pour over his back and soak into his hair, red locks plastered to his cheeks. Three or four beats passed by in the music and then the most horrible blood-curdling screams filled the air. Aya had heard many screams in his life and these were some of the worst.

He loved them.

As each scream rose and fell so did his own voice. He screamed until his entire chest ached and his throat was raw. And then he screamed some more, the tears streaming down his face hidden by the steaming water.

Slowly the song ended, the echoes of the last screams died away and Aya relaxed, limp and exhausted against the shower wall. The ache in his chest and throat lessened as did the stress on another ache in heart. Yohji...

Aya swallowed hard around the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. He pushed water-laden strands of bloody silk from his face, ran the same hand down his face and worked through a miasma of other nervous actions designed to release tension. It was best not to think of his blond comrade.

Comrade. That made Aya chuckled to himself. After all of Yohji's pretty words, after they'd become lovers andafter Yohji had tricked Aya into falling in love with him, that's all they were: comrades. Not even friends, damn him! Aya wasn't quite sure which "him" he was mentally damning. Himself or Yohji, he was the one that had fallen in love with him after all.

"Idiot..." He whispered into the dark before going about finishing up his shower.

☼

"Yup." Yohji confirmed, leaning against the bathroom door with an unlit cigarette held between his fingers. He did this more often than he should, listened to Aya bathe. Watched him when he practiced his swordsmanship. He knew why the redhead was so quiet–quieter than normal–now. He knew why he threw himself into every mission he could as if the thought of staying at the house more than two nights in a row would kill him. He knew...it was his fault.

Your cruel device...you cowardly bastard. He thought walking down the hall away from the bathroom door and pulling his lighter from his pocket as he went. He was a bitch, plain and simple.

It had been almost a month now since Aya had caught him with another man and Yohji hadn't even figured out why he'd been with another man in the first place! No...that was a lie. He knew why but he was scared to even think about it. If he thought about it too much he might start to believe in his delusions.

He took the first blessed puff of his cigarette and let it out slowly, muscles he hadn't realized were tensed relaxing as the nicotine reached his bloodstream. He could remember that night so well, Aya drawn by moans and screams to the livingroom in the Weiss house. The look in his shocked and hurt amethyst eyes as he found Yohji in the middle of his climax on top of some little brunette whose name Yohji couldn't even remember–if he'd even asked for it before fucking him senseless. Yohji could never remember seeing so much emotion at once in the stoic man's eyes, he'd looked...broken.

Your blood's like ice, Kudou, you could have told him why... But he was a coward, he'd always be one and from now on he'd always be hiding from the little redhead. One look could kill... Ever since that night Yohji had been hiding from those eyes and not because those violet eyes regarded him with any malice, quite the opposite, they simply asked "why?" That night Aya had shouted a lot of things, said some things that Yohji knew he didn't mean and also some things that he feared very much he did.

"Why, Yohji? Why? Is my pain your thrill? Didn't I love you enough? This was all a fucking game to you, wasn't it! Let's see how long you can drag along the poor pathetic bitch that was stupid enough to fall for your god damned lines?" Yohji shut his eyes tight trying to fight off the worst of that night but to no avail. "Please Yohji...I love you..."

He heard doors opening and closing inside and knew that Aya had retreated to his bed for the night. Yohji set his jaw and nodded to himself before throwing his cigarette to the ground and stomping in out. Tonight. Tonight he'd finally break the silence and explain why. Tonight.

He squared his shoulders and waked back into the house going toward Aya's room. The door was closed, of course, and the light was off. Aya always went to bed early these days, probably to avoid Yohji. The blond raised his hand to knock but found almost immediately that he couldn't. His hand found its way to the doorframe instead and his forehead pressed to the door...again.

Same thing, every night that Aya was actually here for the last three weeks. He was such a coward! Worse than that, he was a monster for letting the one person he loved in the world go on believing that Yohji had used him for nothing more than a quick lay. All because he was chicken shit, all because he was afraid to say those three committing words in return.

"I want to love you but I'd better not touch." He whispered to the door holding no hope that the swordsman would hear him. He'd said the same thing every night. This was becoming his new routine, his mantra.

"I want to hold you but my senses tell me to stop. I want to kiss you but I want it too much. I love you but I'm so very afraid of that feeling burning in my chest every time I think of losing you so...I lost you and the hope is that eventually the ache will one day go away but...I doesn't. It's only gotten worse but I still...I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

Tears that he denied access to his cheeks burned at Yohji's green eyes as he moved toward the second part of his routine. He made sure he looked perfectly casual as he made his way into the back room and poked Omi in the shoulders. He was hunched over a book, probably on of the sappy romances that he always read and making a valiant effort to hide his red nose and puffy eyes, evidence that he'd been crying.

"Kiddo, you've gotta stop reading those bodice rippers if you're gonna cry every time."

Instead of insisting that he hadn't been crying as Yohji had been almost certain he would, the boy merely nodded and gathered up his things. "I'm going to finish up my book downstairs and head to bed if you don't mind watching the security cams again tonight."

"Nah, s'cool with him." He come and watched the cams every night since he'd started coming to Aya's door and failing his explanation. Sometimes, at first, he'd had to kick Omi out but eventually the boy had gotten used to Yohji's nightly vigil and as often as not came up with an excuse to leave him alone.

As soon as the door closed, Yohji started fiddling with the wiring, hooking up to a camera that only he knew about. Aya's room. Yohji turned all of the TVs to the same channel and adjusted it from sixteen tiny Ayas to one big one spread out over all the connected screens.

He was asleep as Yohji had thought he would be but he was in the middle of a nightmare or something because Yohji could see the sweat standing out on his pale chest and how his long graceful legs tangled in the sheets. Please, don't be dreaming of me. Yohji begged silently.

☼

"Yohji..." The name softly whispered by Aya's sleeping lips as his exhaustion pulled him deeper into a dream that he fervently wished to have no part of.

"Yes, little Aya?" Green eyes smiled up at him and Dream Aya found himself standing at the food of his own bed with a gloriously naked Yohji stretched casually upon it.

"You can't be here. I don't want you here!"

Dream Yohji smirked. "You're lying, you still want me just as much now as you did the first time. If anything, you want me even more."

Aya chewed his lip, his dream form showing more emotion than he ever would, and let his eyes cautiously explore the memory of Yohji's form stretched out before him. Superb as it always had been, all green and gold–his Yohji. I want to kiss you but your lips are venomous poison.

"Come on, Aya, I won't hurt you. I love you. I'll prove it, kiss me."

That smiling face, Aya couldn't resist. Besides, he knew it was only a dream and he was allowed to dream, wasn't he? You're poison running through my veins. You're poison.

He was swallowed then by the dream sensations and wishes that for a moment Aya allowed the fantasy of coming true. He was trapped and he didn't much care at the moment. I don't want to break these chains.

He moaned as a hot mouth seared over his neck and well-remembered hands burned over his body. Your mouth, so hot. Your web, I'm caught. Your skin, so wet. Black lace on sweat. So many images and concepts flashed through his dreaming mind, so many dreamed sensations and emotions that Aya couldn't fully comprehend. "Yohji..."

☼

Aya was twisting and writhing on the bed more actively and Yohji was starting to get concerned. If this was a really bad dream he should be there to soothe the little swordsman when he woke. But...he wouldn't want him there, he'd probably turn to Schuldig before he even thought of Yohji.

Aya's face turned toward the camera as he twisted around once more, fighting the blankets that embraced him. "Yohji..." He saw it, the syllables curving on his love's lips. His name. He needs me. I hear you calling and it's needles and pins...I'm coming, you need me and this time I won't back out. Yohji promised himself leaving the back room hurriedly and racing down the hall–as fast as he could without running–toward Aya's room. He needs me. He needs me. Kept repeating over and over in his head giving him the courage he hadn't before.

He turned the corner, close to the master swordsman's room just in time to see Omi knocking and being granted entry. Yohji's blind-rush stopped short and he thought he heard something in his chest shatter and die.

Omi was there before him.

Omi was the one to comfort his love while Yohji was force to slink back into the dark. He returned to the surveillance room and fixed the camera's so they showed what they normally would. Showed something other than the way Aya clung desperately to Omi while the boy stroked the wine-red silken hair of Yohji's one and only love. Aya was so strong so much of the time but his nightmares...Yohji should have been there...but he'd never be there again. It wasn't his place anymore, he'd willingly ruined that.

He'd been fighting it so long, pretending it'd go away for such a long time that he wasn't quite sure when the tears had started falling from his eyes and landing in rough-patterned circles on the console. He'd lost him. Even when he was calling his name, Yohji couldn't go to him–Aya didn't need him to.

Jesus Christ! He was such a fucking idiot! The whole reason he was in this mess was because of the morning just before he'd been caught with the nameless brunette when he'd realized just how much he loved the stoic redhead. Sure, he'd said those words before but they had always just been words, he'd not been able to say them and actually mean them. He'd been so scared of that overwhelming feeling that he'd not been able to deal with it. When he'd been caught it had been because he'd wanted to be caught.

He'd wanted to chase the swordsman away so that he wouldn't feel the things he did when he looked into those violet eyes. He'd wanted to deny that he felt what he really felt: love. It seemed now that in denying that love he'd lost it. Why did I try to hurt you, little Aya? I want to hurt you just to hear you screaming my name. Don't want to touch you but you're under my skin... Yohji had been wrong before in thinking that Aya needed him, it was he who needed Aya, he'd been stupid to ever think otherwise...

At about 6am Omi came in, Yohji had fallen asleep at some point he couldn't remember and the boy woke him up and told him to head to bed when he came to get the homework he'd left there the night before. Yohji, still physically and emotionally drained, went without argument or comment beyond an accepting grunt when the youngest Weiss boy mentioned that he "looked like Hell."

He felt worse than Hell, he felt that it had walked all over him three times before fucking him hard for at least a week. God was probably in on the gang bang too. Yea, that was almost an accurate description of how he felt. He stumbled his way to his room, surprised that he could still feel a heart beating in his chest after the horrors of the night before.

He passed Aya's room and wondered if he was still asleep. He was probably up already and off avoiding him somewhere. Why did he ever think that chasing Aya away was a good idea? He fought the burning of tears he would have sworn he was too dehydrated to form and rushed to his bedroom and to his bed. To dreams in which Aya was still held in his arms.

☼

"How long has he been in there?"

"Well, I told him to go to bed just before I left for school this morning and I don't think he's come out since." Omi's high, boy's voice replied to Aya's quiet interrogation. "Did you talk to him about what I showed you?"

Aya shook his head tersely, his eyes stoic, though Omi knew that the swordsman was anything but. He'd been there last night when Aya had woken up crying for Yohji. He love him and now they both knew that Yohji loved him in return. Something they'd found out just in time for Yohji to slip into a violent bout of depression. Woo frickin' hoo. "You listened to the tape I left you?"

Aya nodded and let his head hand at the lower end of the motion, his blood-colored hair sliding in front of his face. "Many times..."

"He's too scared to approach you. You'll have to go to him."

Aya smirked a bit, "Well, Yohji has always been chicken shit." He looked up at the door and Omi could feel the resolve in the man's heart. When he turned to face him Omi was sure that his stoic amethyst eyes were a bit softer than he'd seen them since he and Yohji had split. "Thanks, kiddo, for being such a curious meddling brat."

Omi grinned impishly. "You're wel–" he was cut off by soft lips on his, teasing, tasting, sucking softly and pulling away with a knowing smile.

"Thanks again, I hope you find someone that makes you just as happy as Yohji makes me."

Omi was too dizzy to do anything but nod and smile. Aya gave him a little push and he somehow managed to stumble down the hall to his own room. He prayed that one day the one he loved would kiss him like that but he doubted it. Ken hardly knew he existed but maybe...someday.

Aya walked back to his own room and gathered up a few things, tucking them under his arm before heading back to Yohji's door. He didn't bother knocking, he just picked the lock and slipped inside. Yohji slept undisturbed curled around a body pillow that Aya had always picked on him for owning.

Aya smirked, Yohji Kudou would be the only Weiss member that could sleep through an intruder slipping into the room. Setting the things he'd brought along on top of the dresser he quickly stripped of his clothes, folding them and leaving them on the foot of the bed.

With great patience he coaxed the pillow from Yohji's arms, when he pulled it completely free the blond man whimpered, his expression pained. "No! Aya!"

Aya smiled shaking his head. "Oh hush, you big baby. This is so not good for me..." He whispered to himself, slipping under the covers and into a whimpering Yohji's tanned arms. You're poison. Running deep inside my veins, burning deep inside my veins–poison. Aya smirked and pressed a small kiss to Yohji's lips enjoying the taste of his chosen poison before settling down into those wonderful, strong arms. Aya hadn't gotten much sleep the night before and he was damn well going to enjoy it now, especially since he was back in Yohji's arms.

☼

Yohji woke up around quarter after nine, he wasn't exactly sure of the time because his clock–alarm and all–had been thrown across the room at some point a few weeks ago. It was definitely after dark though, he knew that much.

He started to slide out of bed but his arm–which he just then realized was numb–was trapped under something. His body pillow? A pillow was definitely lighter than this. Anger flared in him, thinking he knew who it was in his bed. "Damn it, Ken! I've told you a hundred times–I will not have sex with you! Stop sneaking into my bed at night!"

The weight in his arms shifted around and pressed a slender finger to his lips. "Shut up, you. I'm trying to sleep."

"A-aya? What are you–"

"You're not going to let me sleep, are you?" Aya asked, sighing long-sufferingly before sitting up in the bed. "Could you find my pants for me? They're somewhere at the foot of the bed..."

Yohji sat in stone-ish confusion, about as intelligent as a piece of statuary. Aya was in his bed. No–He corrected himself as Aya crawled out of his blankets and down to the food of the bed–naked Aya was in his bed. "I'm dreaming, aren't I?"

Aya's cool violet gaze drifted over to regard Yohji with some amusement. "No. Because if this was one of your dreams Yohji Kudou, I'd already be moaning and writhing on the sheets. I've listened in on a few of your dreams. You talk in your sleep, moan a lot too."

Yohji blushed and looked away when the redhead pulled on a pair of jeans, concealing that perfect ass in thick denim. "What are you doing here?"

Aya turned to him, flipping on a light and smiling. "'I want to love you but I'd better not touch. I want to hold you but my senses tell me to stop. I want to kiss you but I want it too much.'" The redhead, clothed only in jeans curled up in the bed, his head on Yohji's lap. "Sound familiar?"

Yohji choked to hear his own words thrown back at him and he could only nod mutely. Aya stood and walked over to the dresser picking up the things he'd brought and carrying them back to the bed. He curled comfortably into Yohji's lap and flipped the power switch on the laptop in his lap. "You know...eventually we're going to have to deal with our problems ourselves rather than letting Omi meddle around for us...He's been watching you, taking pictures and such. Just last night he put a listening device outside my door because he'd been curious to know if you were saying anything important or just touching yourself inappropriately."

Yohji was starting to wake up from his daze and he wrapped his arms around Aya's waist with a familiarity he'd feared had been lost forever and was exceedingly grateful to all things holy–including the Pope's padded toilet seat–that he was allowed to once again indulge in.

"He came to me last night with the recording and pictures of you outside my bedroom, leaning on the bathroom door, watching me practice, watching me eat breakfast. That last one's a bit scary because I happen to know you've got a dinner table fantasy..."

"So the little sneak wasn't crying about that damn book last night after all?" Yohji blushed and wound his arms a little tighter around Aya. "Aya...I'm sorry."

"I know, teddy bear, don't worry about it. It's fixed now."

Yohji shook his head, golden strands of hair falling down to caress Aya's cheek and making the swordsman shiver. "It's not. Not yet. I have to tell you, before anything else is said or done, I love you. With all my heart, I love you and I never want to repeat this past month ever again."

Aya turned in his arms and pressed him back on the bed, his entire body pressed intimately to Yohji's. "Good. Neither do I...I love you too you chicken shit fuck-tard."

Yohji grinned. "Those are fighting words."

Aya's grin was no smaller than Yohji's. "Oh? Care to try an' take me down?"

"Oh, with much pleasure little Aya."

Aya had just enough time to put the laptop and tape recorder on the floor before strong arms were pulling him back and pinning him to the bed. "I'm so sorry that I ever tried to push you away. Forgive me, little Aya?"

Violet eyes smiled love up at him and Yohji wasted no time in claiming soft lips, his fingers sliding through blood-colored silk while his other hand slid over stomach and hip that his nerves remembered so well even if while they'd been apart Yohji had been certain he was forgetting.

I want to love you but I'd better not touch, I want to hold you but my senses tell me to stop. I want to kiss you but I want it too much. I want to kiss you but your lips are venemous poison. Poison, running through my veins, you're poison...

Minutes passed, maybe hourse,Aya knew he'd never be sure howlong but he found his body curled lovingly around Yohji's. "I love you too, you coward."

Yohji grunted in exhaustion and pulled him a little closer, tiny sleepy kisses pressing to the corner of Aya's mouth. Aya smiled softly and turned towards those kisses and just enjoyed that softness for a moment before settling in Yohji's arms. It would be good to wake up in them once again.