How You Gonna See Me Now: Ken/Omi semi-spinoff from Aya/Yohji fics "As Lover's Go" and "Poison" Ken boinks Omi and then leaves on a mission he expects to die on, without telling his new lover.

"Okay, what the f-uzz is going on?"

"You know, Omi, you're a big boy. You can use the word fuck if you want." Ken teased. "You can say fuck, get fucked, fuck back. Anything you bloody fucking want."

As he spoke a hungry quality had inhabited Ken's voice at once scaring and enticing the youngest member of Weiss. "Okay, what the fuck are you doing in my bed? Jesus Christ! Did you get drunk again and mistake my room for Yohji's?"

"I've never mistaken your room for Yohji's! Yours is much too neat and pretty to be his. And it doesn't smell like sex all the time. Of course...it could smell like that if you wanted it to."

Omi's heart leapt up into his throat but he forced himself to remember what was happening was only happening because Ken was drunk and horny. "That's very sweet of you to offer Ken, but I really think you should leave."

Ken nodded and tried to roll out of the bed and up onto his feet. He smacked his head on the bed post with an audible thump. "Ow! Fuck!" He turned back to Omi and smiled lazily. "See, Omi? You can say it like that too!"

Omi winced and walked over to him. "You're wasted, you idiot. DO you even need a reason to get drunk or do you just go out and do it?" He asked, in a perturbed and concerned voice, untangling the blankets from his inebriated.

It was then that he made a very shocking discovery. Ken wasn't wearing anything under the sheets... Of all the ways Omi had imagined seeing Ken naked for the first time, this hadn't ever occurred to him. Of course, what he'd always imagined was a romantic and loving Ken ready to teach him love, not a drunk Ken ready to pass out.

Omi clenched his teeth, determined to ignore it and wrapped his arms around Ken's waist and chest, trying to pull him up out of the bed while supporting him. He wasn't sure what happened, maybe he'd slipped and lost his balance, but he found himself flat on the bed with Ken's naked body squashed to his. "God! You're heavy, Ken! Get off of me!"

"You don't really want me to, do you?"

"What?" Omi's struggle to get free ceased in his confusion.

"You don't really want me to leave, do you?" Ken whispered again, his lips brushing lightly over Omi's collarbone.

Omi gulped and–hardly able to believe what was happening–shook his head. "N-no...but you should go." Omi did not want this to happen if it was just because Ken was drunk.

Ken laughed softly and kisses sucked and nibbled at Omi's lips in a heavenly show of affection that left the boy feeling dizzy and warm. "I thought you wanted this. You're not very good at hiding it. You jump guiltily every time I say your name. It's rather cute." Ken's tongue slid from perfect lips to slip into Omi's unprotesting mouth.

His taste was sweet and warm and exactly as Omi had always thought he'd taste...and he didn't taste at all like beer. For the first time Omi realized what he should have before, that Ken didn't smell like alcohol and when he'd spoken last he'd sounded completely sober. "Ken?...were you faking before?"

Ken smiled, his kisses halting for a moment so that he could smile down into Omi's deep blue eyes. "Of course."

"Why?"

Ken shrugged. "I dunno...wanted a back-up excuse in case I was wrong about you. You do want me, don't you?"

Omi blushed deeply and–hardly trusting his own daring–reached up to tangle his fingers in Ken's soft hair before kissing him deeply. "Yes! It's all I've dreamed of for months!"

With a smile and a quick kiss Ken climbed out of the bed and walked over to lock the door.

✉

Later, Ken held in his arms knowing the pain the boy had gone through, being a virgin, he wanted to soothe whatever pain he'd caused and he snuggled the boy to his chest, leaving tender kisses on the boy's bruised lips and closed eyelids. "Are you okay, Kitten?"

"Mmhmm..." Omi snuggled deeper into Ken's arms. "I love you..."

Ken froze, his arms stiffening though he quickly forced himself to relax. "I..." Soft snores rescued him from having to finish the deadly sentence. So, completely unsure of how he truly felt besides bewildered, Ken slipped into a light sleep with the boy curled tightly around his body.

It would be alright. He was leaving in a couple of hours and wouldn't be back for a long, long time. Probably never. That way, he'd never have to deal with those three poisonous words, never have to return them. Never have to think about them.

✉

Stretching slowly with a wide jaw-cracking yawn, Omi sat up in bed running fingers through his blond love-tangled hair. He was sore in places he was sure he didn't want to mention but it felt really good. He sighed contentedly and turned toward Ken.

No Ken.

Omi brushed his fingers over the sweat-stained sheets and found them cool to the touch. He'd been gone for a while...Omi felt no alarm, only mild curiosity, for the moment he just wanted to stay in bed and think on the events of the night before. Maybe he'd gone to get a shower. Breakfast. Omi knew that Ken liked his coffee first thing in the morning.

Long minutes passed with Omi curled up under the blankets, his blue eyes obstinately half-closed against the insistent morning light. Finally, the cheerful sunlight streaming in through Omi's somewhat girly lacy curtains, warmed the room too much for comfort and Omi reluctantly crawled from under the sheets.

He rummaged n his dresser drawer for clean boxers and a shirt and, with another wide yawn, stepped out of his room in search of his wayward lover. The bathroom was a dud, no gloriously nude Ken bathed in a shower of crystalline droplets of steaming water. Not even a partially nude Ken.

Pouting at that, Omi headed for the kitchen. Still, no Ken. Coffee hadn't even been brewed yet. Yohji was there, making eggs, bacon, and herbal tea–he was trying to get Aya to cut down on his vices, caffeine foremost–and spilling cigarette ashes all over the place.

"Good morning, Yohji." Omi paused, he didn't know if asking the question on the tip of his tongue would be too obvious or not. Finally, he shrugged, deciding it would, but also that he didn't much care. "Have you seen Ken this morning? I can't find him."

Yohji gave one of his classic casual shrugs. "Not seen him since about three this morning. He went on a mission, big one. North Ireland, didn't you know?" The blond's comely features clouded over. "Schuldig's all pissed because he knows it's a death mission and Ken went and threw himself into it." He took an unconsciously violent puff of his cigarette and went back to his cooking.

Omi felt sick and not just because the smoke and the smell of bacon were a horrible combination. "A mission?"

"Yea." The blond mercenary grimaced. "Going after some of those Resistance zealots that have been struggling with the British–bloody stuff." His emerald green eyes took on a distant almost furious expression. "Cocky bastard knows there's a slim to none chance he's coming back and doesn't care what that means to us! Starts talking some shit about how he's never really fit in with us–always been somehow outside the group...fucking prig.

"Oh." Omi turned to walk back to his room so that he could scream, or cry, or sulk, or whatever the Hell it was that he felt like doing, in private. But his legs gave out after only two steps and he found himself confronted with a very distorted view of the floor.

"Kid!" Yohji was there in an instant, picking him up, checking him for injury, for fever, checking his blue eyes for dilation. "Jesus, are you okay? Say something."

Omi was only half cognizant of the command but still he wondered idly what to say. What could he say? That he'd been taken advantage of? That he'd been the willing victim of a cruel rapist? That he'd thought that his experiences last night had been about love?

The words came to him then, not to his mind–he didn't have to think them–they were just there falling from his lips. "Kill me."

"W-what? Omi, what's wrong?"

"Kill me...please."

Yohji was shaking his head a smoking cigarette tucked forgotten behind his ear. "Omi...what's going on? Tell me, please!"

Omi turned away from him, knowing that he'd not get what he wanted from Yohji. Yohji kept trying to get him to talk, to say anything, he couldn't. It wasn't that he didn't want to, he just couldn't.

"Aya! Aya, get in here now! Omi's...there's something wrong with him–I don't know–get in here!" Omi turned back to look at him, the blond looked worried and scared, almost like he was about to cry. Omi wondered distantly why he wasn't crying, he knew he should be but...nothing. Maybe he was in shock.

Aya came, barely dressed but with stoic eyes. Those eyes calmed Omi, the lack of fear or anger or 'I-told-you-so' tranquilized him into something like lucidity. They walked him to his room and tucked him into bed.

His bed where..."No!" It was a denial, definitely a denial, but the simple two-letter word was twisted into something almost unrecognizable–animal–filled with terrible despair and heartache. If a human soul were ever to shatter, that would be the sound it made.

Fighting against Aya and Yohji's arms with a strength borne of desperation, Omi howled his pain out with still-dry eyes. His knuckles cracked, sending pain shooting up into his shoulder, when he hit Yohji's jaw. At some point after that, the blond kicked his legs out from under Omi and then wrapped his arms around him while the redheaded warrior used a well-practiced maneuver to knock Omi unconscious. The boy accepted the oncoming darkness gratefully.

✉

"What do you mean, he just went nuts?"

"This is Omi we're talking about." Yohji pointed to the huge swollen black and purple bruise on his jaw. "Omi doesn't do this for no good reason."

Schuldig nodded slowly, fiery hair falling over his face. "And you want me to look around n his little blond head to see what's wrong." He stated flatly, his eyes hard.

Yohji turned to look at Aya, seeming uncomfortable in what he was asking the German to do. "Yes...but...only because we want to help him." Aya nodded in silent confirmation of his lover's words.

"Can't do it."

Yohji looked like he was about to launch himself at his leader, Aya stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. His violet eyes flashed dangerously at Schuldig and then returned to their stoic expressions. "Would you care, sir, to explain exactly why the hell not?"

"Because I already know what happened, You would too, if you thought about it calmly."

"We have thought about it calmly! We've been thinking about it all fucking morning!" Yohji snarled wrathfully.

"Wow. Blonds really are stupid, two prime examples in just one morning. Yohji, what had you and Omi talked about just before he got sick?"

Yohji frowned, "Nothing really...he said good morning and then he asked about..." He trailed off and then turned to look at his lover with hard emerald eyes that bespoke a need to strangle something. "Ken."

Understanding dawned in Aya's eyes and then anger again welled in him. "One last bloody conquest before he bloody goes off to fucking die–didn't even tell Omi he was leaving, probably told him he loved him. That bastard! That–" Aya reached up a hand to cover Yohji's mouth, silencing the blond's tirade.

"Go smoke a cigarette, calm down. Our anger at Ken can't help Omi at all. We can't get to Ken from here, we can only comfort out littlest brother, okay?" He said softly, his palm sliding over to cup Yohji's cheek once it was established that he wasn't going to yell anymore.

After a moment Yohji nodded and bent to kiss his comrade softly. "Alright. You're right. I'll be back in a little bit." He tried a small smile and then left the room, already pulling his cigarettes and lighter from his pocket.

Aya turned to Schuldig. "Ken will come back, won't he? This is all some stupid trick you're playing." Schuldig shrugged and stretched a little in his chair, leaving Aya to continue. "Look, you're a bitch Schuldig but you don't give a damn about any Irish zealots and you're not liekly to send a member of your elite team to die by them. Tell me what's going on."

"What do you want me to say, Aya? You want me to just nod and smile and say 'Oh, I was just being a mean little boy.' Is that really what you want to hear?" He asked, his accent thickening with his anger.

Aya's eyes were cold. "I don't care what you say as long as it's the truth and it explains what the Hell is going on. I know you wouldn't callously send one of us on a death mission for Goddamned Ireland!"

Schuldig nodded. "Alright. Alright, I'll explain. Ken doesn't think he belongs–really belongs–to Weiss so...I've set it up so that he'll have a lot of time to sit and think about what a family we've been to him. His boinking out Omi and thereby causing said family to want him dead wasn't part of the plan."

Aya stared blankly. "No one else knows this?"

Schuldig shook his head. "Nope. And don't worry, the Irishmen will make sure he gets all the beating he needs. That's in the plan too."

Taking in the amused smile on Schuldig's lips, Aya scowled. "You're a bastard."

"Yes, but I don't really see what my parents' marital status has to do with this."

✉

Omi woke up–denying that he was awake once again in the real world with all of his being and losing all the same–in a room that wasn't his own. Aya's, he decided after a moment when he actually bothered to look around himself. Yohji and his stock lover must have moved him to this room when he'd shown to be so desperate to get away from his own room.

When he crawled out of the blankets eh found hot tea waiting for him on the night-stand next to a box of pocky. The latter he suspected was from Yohji and the former from Aya. With a pouty expression Omi pulled a stick of pocky from the box and sucked on it. He deserved candy, dammit!

He sighed heavily, deciding he wasn't quite ready to face his Weiss brothers, he sat down on the edge of the bed instead with pocky sticking like one of Yohji's cigarettes from his lips. Ken...Ugh! That jerk!

Why had Omi ever fallen for such and asshole? "I hate him..." Omi nodded to himself. "I hate him." He took a deep steadying breath to confirm his words and took a sip of his tea, ready to get on with his life.

✉

"Hey, Omi! Get up! You're going to be late for school!"

Omi gasped in an alarmed breath and shout of of bed, grabbing his school uniform and jumping into it in moments before rushing out of the room. A tan arm looped around his waist to halt him and Omi could hear Yohji's familiar laugh. "Calm down! I'm just joking, it's Saturday, you don't have school."

Omi took a deep breath and tried to glare at his comrade but the chocolate covered rice ball that he was offered a moment later caused the expression to fritter away and transform into a wide and somewhat greedy smile. "You're so mean!" He said, playfully swatting his friend upside the head while simultaneously slipping the rice ball into his pocket.

Yohji was glad to see the smile, glad to see that Omi was doing so well only eight months after what Ken had done to him. Yohji still got angry when he thought about it–Omi wasn't like the rest of them, he still had so much innocence left and Kne had tried to steal it. The bastard.

"That guy Ryuchi came by again–he's cute–I think he likes you."

Omi blushed and looked down at his feet which he noticed for the first time, only had one sock. "We just study together...that's all."

Yohji grinned. "Yea, Aya and I like to study too."

Omi glared and the expression lasted a little longer this time. "We're both studying hard so that we can get into college and–has anyone checked the mail for acceptance letters?"

Yohji shrugged. "Haven't checked the mail all week." He said casually lighting up a cigarette. Omi snatched it from his lips and dropped it into a nearby vase of flowers commandeered from the shop. It made a soft sizzle as it hit the water. "No coffee for Aya means no tobacco for you." He reminded sternly.

Yohji pouted and nodded while Omi went back to his room to put his pajamas back on. He was going right back to bed...after he went and checked the mail for his letters.

The box was over crammed, no one had checked it since Omi had the previous Saturday he supposed. He had to wonder exactly how it was that any of their bills got paid. He grabbed the whole mess of jumbled envelopes and headed into the house.

He tossed them onto the kitchen table and fixed a cup of coffee with lots of sugar and cream before returning to the table. Sitting down with a stretch and a yawn he started to sort the mail out loud. "Junk. Bill for Schuldig. Porn for Yohji. Junk. Bill for Aya. Gun mag for Yohji. Victoria's Secret...Yohji. Letter for–me?"

Omi took a long sip of his coffee and stared down at a ragged-looking envelope. There was no return address only "Omi" in carefully forged letters above the address. Should he open it? It might be some sort of trick. He set it slightly aside and went through the rest of the mail. Only one college had responded and it had been a denial. Omi's attention was again directed to the letter with his name on it.

What was the worst that could happen? He picked up the letter and resolutely refused to think about the answer to that question. He slipped the hand-written letter out of the envelope warily, searching carefully for any signs of harmful powders and such. When he spotted nothing, he opened the letter. The first few words were enough to make Omi want to burn it immediately.

That prick was writing to him? He was still fucking alive? What the fuck are you up to, Ken? Omi took another long sip of his coffee and started to read

Dear Darling,

Surprised to hear from me? I'll bet you're sitting drinking coffee–yawning
sleepily.

Omi paused to smirk at that, was he trying to play a mind game with him? Too fucking late, stupid asshole–Omi didn't want any part of him. With a scowl Omi continued to read on.

Just to let you know, I'm going to be home soon. I'm kind of awkward and
afraidthat time has changed your point of view.

How're you going to see me now? Please don't see me ugly, babe, because
I knowI've let you down in oh so many ways. How're you going to see me
now? Since we've been on our own? Are you going to love the man when the
man gets home?

Omi jumped when a drop of liquid fell over the words, blurring the ink. He realized then that he'd started crying, after eight months, this was the first time he'd cried over Ken. He realized also that he would still love Ken, no matter what he'd pretended in the long months the man had been gone.

Listen darling, now I'm heading for the west, straightened out my head but
my old heart is still a mess. Yes, I'm worried honey, guess that's natural
though. It's likeI'm waiting for a welcome sign, like a hobo in the snow.

And just like the first time, we're just strangers again, I might have
grown out of style in the place I've been. And just like the first time, I'll be
shaking inside, when Iwalk in the door there'll be no place to hide.

It was signed simply "Ken" and Omi brushed his fingertips over the carefully composed letters as if through them he could touch Ken again. He wiped at the tears that poured from his blue eyes. "Ken..."

Yohji wandered into the kitchen at that moment and frowned at Omi sitting with his head bowed, blond locks obscuring his face, a letter held loosely in his hand. "You all right, Kid? Did you not get accepted? I'm sure there'll be other colleges..."

Omi didn't say anything and Yohji meandered over to glance over his shoulder at the tear-stained letter. What he saw made his blood boil. He was coming back? Hadn't Schuldig said he was probably going to die? Dammit, Yohji wanted the bastard dead! And he was going to cuddle up to Omi and pretend he loved him? "Sonuvahbitch!"

Yohji snatched the letter from the boy's hand and crumpled it. "Tell me you're not going to believe his bullshit again, Omi. He's just messing with your head!"

Omi didn't move at first but after several heartbeats he slowly raised his eyes to Yohji's. "Why'd you do that?" He asked, as if he couldn't believe the letter had been destroyed.

"Omi!" Yohji insisted, looking slightly panicked.

"I...I don't think it's bullshit..." Omi whispered in a tiny voice, looking back down at his empty hand.

"What?"

"I don't think he's lying." Omi said again, raising his voice and his eyes so that the blond assassin could hear his words and see his resolve in those assured blue orbs.

Yohji stared at him for a moment, his fist clenched around the letter. He looked like he was going to snap Omi in half or at least yell something really obscene. Instead, when his mouth opened he yelled in a strained voice: "Aya!"

The redheaded swordsman appeared soon after, immediately working to soothe his lover, "What's going on?" He asked turning from a blathering Yohji to Omi.

"I got a letter from Ken. He's coming back." Omi shrugged, "Yohji's got it now if you can pry it from his hands."

Aya frowned and held out his hand to his lover. With an almost childish pout Yohji handed him the letter, in all its crumpled glory. With a quick and stoic eyes Aya read over the letter and quietly handed it back to Omi. "Okay."

Yohji exploded. "Okay? What the fuck! Aya, you can't believe what Ken says! Am I the only one that's still sane?"

"Better than being the only one that's still straight." Schuldig said from behind Omi. "Ken's coming home?" Everyone nodded. "Okay." He smiled slightly and walked away while Yohji spluttered incomprehensibly.

"It's not okay!"

Aya sighed an ran his fingers through the blond's long golden hair. "How about, just this once, you go smoke...try to calm down? I'll talk to Omi." He kissed him, his lips teasing Yohji's until the swordsman felt the larger man's pulse quicken.

He released him and gave the senselessly grinning assassin a helpful push toward the door. He turned to regard Omi with a steady gaze once the blond was gone. "Be careful. Don't let him break you again. It nearly killed Yohji to see you so sad. You're our brother and we love you."

Omi nodded and smiled, clutching his letter. "Thank you, and...I love–"

"You Goddamned bastard! I'm going to kill you!" Omi and Aya's collective eyes were drawn instantly to the door and the cursing heard from outside.

"I think Ken's home."

Omi nodded and bolted through the door with Aya close behind. Yohji was on top of a huddled form that Omi assumed was Ken, fists flying while the prone person under his blows tried to cover his face with his arms. "Yohji! Stop it!"

Yohji screamed a random curse and refused, his blows becoming more forceful. Omi picked up a rock, sent an apologetic glance at Aya, and took aim. Throwing it, he hit Yohji square on the temple, the resulting disorientation from the blow knocked the infuriated blond over, causing his punches to stop.

Aya rushed to Yohji and Omi to Yohji's victim. It was ken, his hair was longer and his bloody face held a beard but it was Ken. "Come on inside, I'll clean you up." He helped him up and lead him to sit in a chair at the kitchen table while he filled a bowl with water and soaked a clean cloth in it.

Returning to Ken, he wrung the cloth out and dabbed the blood away from the cuts and bruises on his face. He looked different somehow, he had some new scars–the cut on his brow which was the source of most of the blood on his face promised to turn into another one–and a beard, but that wasn't it. He seemed more...peaceful. Like he'd finally accepted something about himself.

"It's good to be home."

Omi snorted, "Yea, nothing like getting the shit knocked out of you by the ones that really care to welcome you home." He sighed and shook his head. "Yohji's still pissed about what you did."

"You didn't used to curse so much, Omi."

"Yea? Well...a lot's changed about me."

"Oh..." Ken focused intently on Omi's eyes for a moment. "Did you get my letter?"

Omi nodded. "Just this morning..." He waved a hand to the crumpled paper sitting at the end of the table where he'd left it before his run out into the yard and subsequent rescue of Ken. "Yohji got to it." He said in explanation for it's ragged appearance.

"I...I didn't know if it would get to you and–I'd hoped it would but I didn't know–most of the others...I tried to write you hundreds of times–mostly stupid things like how my day was going–never sent them–coward I guess. I've got them though." He was opening up his dusty bag. "I'm sorry, I think they got a little messed up when Yohji tackled me. Sorry."

His flustered nervous rambling halted for a moment while he fumbled with the knot on his bag and then dumped it out on the kitchen table. No clothes poured out, no combs or toothbrushes, no weaponry only dozens of letters. Omi doubted, by the sheer volume of the letters, that anything else could have fit into the bag.

"I-I wrote every day but sometimes I thought of something else or something happened that I thought you should know. A couple of them are just sketches that I thought you might think were pretty–they're not that good. I-I always intended for you to h-have them b-but I was scared–I brought them though, so you could read them now."

Omi stared at the letters piled on the table, there were hundreds of them! Ken must have written on average six a day, probably more. "Ken...why did you write this many letters?"

Ken looked like a lost and confused little boy. "B-because I didn't know how to say it."

"To say what?"

Ken looked down at his lap, "That...I'm sorry and that, I love you so much." He looked up at him and smiled unsurely, the livid bruise on his cheek marring it just a bit.

Omi found himself smiling as well, an invisible weight that had been holding him under pressure for the past eight months was lifted of his shoulders and he leaned forward, his face close to Ken's "This isn't a joke? You're serious, right?"

Ken nodded slowly and reached up tentatively to slide his fingers through Omi's hair. "Very. I...I love you Omi. I thought about you constantly and please, please, please forgive me." He whispered softly.

Omi smiled, his blue eyes lighting up. "I forgive you. I love you." With a grin he leaned forward fully and kissed him softly just a Yohji came in and glared. Aya flicked his ear and he whined.

"He needs his ass kicked!"

Aya shook his head. "Later. Come on, let's leave them alone."