I'm American. Not only that, I'm from the South. (Yes, I can write. Yes, I am wearing shoes right now. Sorry to disapoint.) Anyway, that all probably bears some of the blame for this chapter. I'm certain there's some Southern influence in here somewhere. Oh well.

As for Aya's job, as you are sure to notice, I know nothing about his particular business. I don't really care. It was all probably subconsciouly inspired by Gravitation.

I really should be studying right now...Thanks to everyone who reviewed, please, do so again!

Standard disclaimers apply.

Bridges

Chapter 2


The closer it grew to the time Yohji was supposed to pick him up, the more deeply Aya was regretting ever agreeing to go. Never having been the social type, Aya found himself no longer feeling the pangs of loneliness and regret that had influenced him into making such a rash decision as to agree to go spend time with playboy Yohji Kudoh. He had seen and spoken to his old teammate already – wasn't that enough?

Yohji's final words to him the last time they spoke still bothered him. He actually forced himself to go shopping for something to wear.

At last he had chosen something he was almost comfortable with, but which he was reasonably certain would gain the approval of his companion. The black leather pants from the previous week – he had never expected to need to wear them again, but he had paid a lot of money for them so he might as well get some use out of them – along with a white shirt. The shirt was relatively simple: wide, long sleeves, nearly transparent materiel. It hit him nearly mid-thigh, and the front and the sleeves needed to be laced up in order to stay closed.

He looked pale and delicate – something he hated – with his hair spilling down over the white of the shirt in an uncomfortable parody of blood and his eyes so large and dark in a face much too pale. He found himself staring at the stranger in the mirror for a long time.

A knock came at the door, making him jump. He already had his glare all prepared as he yanked open the door.

Yohji grinned brazenly at him and Aya had to fight the urge to squirm as the other man's eyes roamed lazily over his form. Yohji flirted with anything that moved; it was nothing personal.

He was perfectly posed, forearm resting against the door frame, opposite fist resting on one slim hip. He wore skin-tight leather pants of red, so covered in zippers that Aya doubted any of the "pockets" were functional. He wouldn't have been surprised if unzipping them would reveal skin.

A black leather coat so long it nearly hit his ankles, also covered in zippers, and a green…tube top was the only word Aya could think of. Between shirt and pants, framed by the coat, the playboy's abdomen stretched muscular and golden.

His hair framed his face, soft and shining. His emerald eyes were lit bright with the promise of mischief.

Aya immediately turned and began walking away. Yohji caught his arm, laughing.

"What?"

"Go home, Yohji."

"What? Why?"

"You look like a porn star." He answered in clipped tones. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

Yohji's laughter, warm and almost comforting, filled the small room. He pulled Aya back to the door, though he managed to do it carefully enough to avoid an ass-kicking.

"Will you relax? I'm not going to take you anywhere where you'll be uncomfortable."

"I seriously doubt that, Kudoh."

"Yohji. Please. It's not a difficult name to remember."

He intensified his glare a few degrees. "Just what were you planning for tonight, Kudoh?"

For a moment, the older man looked almost hurt. "I just want to hang out, Aya. Catch up on old times."

"I think your idea of 'hanging out' differs somewhat from my own."

A sudden grin. "Hell yeah it does." He finally released Aya's arm, grin slipping away. "No wild parties. I promise."

The smart thing would have been to shove the blonde back into the hallway, slam the door in his face, and forget that they had ever run into each other.

"Come on, Aya, I'll behave! I promise!"

"Damn you, Kudoh."

He laughed, knowing already that he had won. Reluctantly, Aya pushed past into the hall.

None of the other occupants of the hotel looked twice at them. Aya was deeply regretting his wardrobe choices. Walking next to Yohji, he felt like a whore.

Yohji's Seven was waiting out in the parking lot, so familiar it was painful.

"You still have that hideous thing." Aya commented dryly, ignoring the sudden and unexpected rush of emotions.

"Hideous? I'll have you know that chicks dig this thing."

He snorted. "If so, it's only because they think that anyone who would drive such a ridiculous thing must have a lot of money to make up for his lack of intelligence and style."

"Or be well-hung, right?"

"Unless he's compensating."

Yohji's laughter filled the still night and Aya realized with surprise that he had always liked the bright, comforting noise.

A flower was set on the passenger seat of the car. A single red carnation.

"What's this?" Aya demanded, staring down at it as if it was a poisonous snake.

"It's for you."

"Why?"

"Why so suspicious?"

Aya glared.

Shaking his head, Yohji slipped into the driver's seat. "Carnations symbolize friendship, right? It's like a peace offering."

"How long were you a florist?"

"I dunno. A few years, why?"

Reluctantly, Aya got into the car, holding the flower in his lap.

"Carnations do not stand for friendship."

"Oh. My mistake." Yohji started the car. His radio was too loud, blaring something obnoxious that should never have been referred to as "music." The air conditioning was on much too high.

"Where are you taking me?" Aya asked, buckling his seat belt as Yohji pulled out of the parking lot.

"Well, I figured you would stab me if I tried to take you to a club…"

"Correct."

"And I'm about ninety-five percent sure that anywhere you would pick on your own would be boring as hell, so I was thinking we could catch a movie, then go grab some coffee after. Sound all right to you?"

"I suppose." He ceded. "But none of those cheesy sex movies, understand?"

"Just ruin all my fun, why don't you?"

Unable to take the noise any longer, Aya reached out and turned off the radio. Silence filled the car.

"So, have you seen either of the others, then?" Yohji asked, voice loud in the sudden stillness.

"No." Aya hesitated. "Tell me about them." He requested finally.


After much debate, the two men agreed to seeing a romantic comedy neither was really interested in. Yohji's votes had been for a highly-publicized horror flick, while Aya had wanted the remake of a classical novel. The comedy had been their compromise.

"If I had known it was going to be in English, I think I would have attempted to push for the cartoon movie." Yohji griped, after, as they headed for the car.

"You speak English fluently, Kudoh."

"That doesn't mean it doesn't give me a headache." He complained. "Anyway, it was totally unrealistic. Real whores aren't that attractive."

Aya's lip quirked in (very slight) amusement as he slid into his seat. "You shouldn't talk about yourself that way."

"There! That was a joke! You can't deny it, I caught you this time!"

"You're delusional."

They sat in the car, silent, unmoving, the keys in the ignition but the engine left off. A street light offered dim illumination on the carnation sitting on the dash.

"The movie was cute." Aya said finally, wanting to fill the silence. "I enjoyed it more than I thought I would."

"Tell me something. Why are American movies so strange?"

Aya shrugged, not really caring. "You expect me to know everything?" He made the mistake of glancing at Yohji. His face was mostly obscured by shadows, but he knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that the man was staring at him.

A long-fingered hand reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, fingertips brushing his cheek.

"Kudoh?"

The hand drew back.

Yohji started the car.


The "coffee shop" Yohji took him to was more like an all-night truck stop. The décor was interesting enough: lace curtains, wooden signs with not-so clever catchphrases, porcelain figures of animals. The tables were covered in checkered tablecloths.

The place was nearly deserted. The few tired-looking patrons who had even bothered to grace the diner with their presences shot hostile looks to the two leather-clad young men in the doorway.

"Over here." Yohji instructed, a hand on Aya's shoulder as he steered him toward a booth in the corner.

"Where have you dragged me to?" He hissed as the blonde tried to force him to sit.

"What? It's not as bad as it looks. Asuka and I used to come here all the time." Yohji was getting good. He almost said her name without the customary flash of darkness in his eyes. "This place has the best coffee. And you won't believe the pie – it's heaven, I swear."

Reluctantly, Aya slid into the booth. Yohji slid in next to him, throwing his arm over the back of the seat.

"There aren't any menus?"

"Don't worry. I know what to order."

Aya wasn't certain he liked the idea of the other man ordering for him, but decided not to say anything, as he really didn't have the energy for an argument at the moment.

When the waitress came over, looking frazzled and tired, Yohji ordered two coffees and a slice of lemon pie.

"We can share," he said with a wink. "The servings are huge."

"Miss?" Ignoring his companion, Aya got the waitress's attention. "Make mine a tea, please. No sugar, no cream, no lemon."


The pie was reduced to a few crumbs on the plate between them, their cups held only the last dregs of their drinks, and Yohji had actually apologized for not knowing he didn't like coffee. Aya had merely shrugged.

"I didn't know what to do once it was over." Yohji was saying. "Just that I needed to make money. Krittiker wasn't going to support me anymore. Before I knew it, I was doing detective work again."

"Was it difficult?" Aya asked quietly, secretly amazed that the other man was willing to have this conversation.

Yohji shrugged, barely lifting his shoulders. "Not as bad as I expected it to be. What about you? What are you doing nowadays?"

Aya licked his fingertips and pressed them to the plate, coming away with crumbs. "Oddly enough, I work in the music business now. A recording company out of L.A." He answered reluctantly, licking his fingers clean. "One of the bosses knew my father…it wasn't difficult to find employment."

"You're right. That is odd." Yohji laughed. "What are you doing back in Japan, then?"

It was his turn to shrug, reaching for the plate again and licking his fingers clean of the crumbs. "The bosses think signing some Japanese talent would be a good idea. Like the next big thing or something."

"Who?"

"Aki Hirata."

Yohji whistled low under his breath. "Good luck with that; she's really hot right now."

"You don't have to tell me. I'm having a hell of a time with this whole thing."

Yohji caught his hand as he reached for the plate again. His expression, when Aya looked at him, was strange.

"Stop." He requested.

His eyes were too intense. A green that almost burned. Funny how Aya had never noticed before. Suddenly, he was very aware that Yohji's arm was still slung across the back of the seat, fingertips brushing his shoulder.

Yohji released him, reaching for his cup and peering inside. The moment was broken.

"You want another refill before we go?"

"No." Aya answered, unable to explain to himself why he was suddenly spooked.

They didn't speak again until Yohji pulled up in front of his hotel.

"This was fun." Yohji stated quietly, not looking at him. "Thanks for agreeing to come with me."

"You would have found a way to force me, anyway." Aya mumbled, reaching for the carnation on the dash.

"Well, thanks for not bringing Bob, anyway. I appreciate that."

Despite himself, Aya laughed. He got out of the car and leaned down, finding himself brave enough to smile a little at Yohji.

"If you were to ask me to do something like this again, I would agree."

Before Yohji could say anything, Aya had pushed back and made his way around the car. He went into the hotel without looking back.

He found some paper cups in the bathroom and filled one with water. He put the carnation inside and set it on the windowsill.

Florist's instinct.


Monday evening, Yohji called him at the hotel.

"This isn't too much of an invasion of your personal space, is it? Because I would hate to think that I'm interrupting your quality time with Bob."

"What do you want, Kudoh?"

"Well, I was looking at the paper, and it looks like they're showing another horrible foreign movie this Friday. I couldn't help but to think of you. So, what do you say? Do you think you can survive another night of acting like a normal human being?"

Aya ran a hand through his hair, realized he was smiling, and quickly schooled his face.

"I suppose." He answered reluctantly.

"You gonna dress sexy again?"

"Not on your life."


Friday evening arrived at the end of a week so trying it was almost painful. Aya had actually found himself looking forward to his plans and the surprising comfort of being in the company of someone who knew what he was and could accept it unflinchingly.

All of the progress Aya had thought he had been making at work seemed to have collapsed around him all in the course of that single week. Nakamura still refused to so much as speak to him and worse, seemed no longer able to see him. Teng, meanwhile, seemed to have redoubled her efforts at seducing Aya. She was growing so brazen that he would not be able to ignore it much longer. Soon Aya would have no choice but to either submit or turn her down.

He wasn't certain how that would affect his project.

By the time Yohji arrived, Aya was more than ready to go. He found that he was actually glad to see the other man.

Black leather pants that laced up the sides all the way up to his hips so that flashes of tanned leg were visible. Black combat boots underneath. A soft-looking red button-up with only two buttons clasped. Toned abs flashed under those buttons, strong chest above. He had pulled the front of his hair back, leaving his strong, handsome face clean.

He looked Aya up and down as he had the week before, grinning brazenly as he took in the faded blue jeans and blue sweater.

"Well, not the sex kitten look I was hoping for, but still sexy as hell."

Aya narrowed his eyes into a glare. "So glad to meet with your approval."

"I'll have an effect on your wardrobe yet."

The redhead brushed past him into the hall. "Let's hope not." He commented. "I wouldn't want anyone thinking I'm even half the whore you are."

"But Aya! You'd make such a wonderful whore!"

"Fuck you, Kudoh."

"That's the spirit!"


Three weeks later. Friday night and out with Yohji once more. The blonde had been dominating all of his Fridays since the first; it was something Aya had nearly come to depend on. It was, he was fairly certain, all that was keeping him sane.

It was strange – and frightening, if he thought to much about it.

It was the same every week. A movie (usually foreign) at seven, then to the diner to share a slice of pie. He wondered if the predictability bored Yohji. He wondered if the blonde wouldn't rather be on a date.

He wondered how long until Yohji stopped calling.

Seven o'clock and they were not in the movies this night. The showing they had wanted to go to was sold out. Without a word between them to discuss it, they instead bought tickets to the nine o'clock showing.

"What'll we do until then?" Yohji asked, a fine twinge of suggestion in his tone like poison hidden in wine.

Aya hunched his shoulders against a sudden chill wind, unconsciously stepping closer to his companion. "Let's walk." He suggested quietly.

"For three hours?"

"we'll have dinner." He decided. He gripped a hand in the sleeve of Yohji's coat, pulling him along as he began to walk. The blonde's arm slid around Aya's shoulders, but the former assassin neither yelled nor moved away. He was cold, and Yohji was so very warm. "Is there anywhere that's good down here?"

Yohji was silent a long moment. His hip brushed Aya's as they walked.

"There's a pretty good Italian place about three streets over." He said finally. "They've got good bread. Do you like Italian?"

"Yes."

The wind picked up, sharp and bitter and cold. The weather channels were predicting snow. Aya moved closer to his former teammate's warmth, putting an arm around his waist to keep himself from stumbling as Yohji missed a step.

"Remember the Krause mission?" He asked quietly.

Yohji gave a laugh, short and sharp. "That motherfucking water was cold that night. You know, you never did thank me for saving your ass."

"You…saved my ass?"

"Well, yeah."

"No you didn't."

"Yeah, I did. You were shot in the leg. You couldn't walk. I dragged your ass out of there."

"And almost drowned. If anything, I saved you."

"You almost froze to death." Yohji protested. "If I hadn't given you my coat…"

"You were in the hospital with pneumonia."

"And you were right there with me, buddy-boy."

They stopped, waiting for the cars to pass so they could cross the street. It was even colder when they weren't walking. Aya huddled closer. Silence stretched between them.

"Maybe we saved each other." Yohji murmured finally.

Aya snorted.

"You're so strange."

Their way cleared and they crossed the street, entering the small, dark restaurant moments later. The heat seemed to soak into Aya the moment they stepped inside. Warm at last, he stepped away from Yohji and shrugged off his coat, hanging it on a peg on the wall with several others.

A waitress approached. One look at Yohji and a wide, flirtatious smile spread across her lips.

"Just one tonight?"

"No, two."

Her eyes momentarily flickered to Aya. She didn't seem to care. That she had eyes only for Yohji was no real surprise; he was an astoundingly attractive man.

"Smoking or nonsmoking?"

"Smoking."

"Kudoh."

He glanced back at Aya and his grin was nearly sheepish. "Right, I forgot. Non, please."

She led them to a table in the back, bending a little more than was necessary to place the menus on the table.

"Let me know if I can get you anything." She purred.

They sat. She left. Aya stared at Yohji until the other man looked up.

"What?" He asked.

Aya shook his head, unsure of how to adequately state his surprise. "I've never seen you ignore the chance to flirt before."

"Huh? What are you talking about? I'm not that bad."

"I once saw you flirt with a goat."

"I was drunk!"

"Kudoh, you even flirt with me. It's like a disease with you."

Yohji finally looked away.

"She's not my type." He said finally. He was silent for a long while. "I guess you could say I've calmed down a little…I'm tired of the game. Fucking is just too easy – I need a new challenge. I…want someone…to love." He looked at Aya once more, eyes burning and intense.

Whatever he saw in the redhead's eyes wasn't what he was looking for. He glanced back down at his menu without another word.

Aya forced himself to speak.

"I'm proud of you, Yohji."

"What do you mean?" He mumbled, not looking up.

"For growing up."

Yohji hesitated. "Thanks." He mumbled finally. He cleared his throat as the silence between them became uncomfortable. "Do you know what you want yet?" Yohji asked.

"What made you decide it was time to settle down?"

Yohji's head shot up from the menu, eyes large and almost frightened. "What?"

"Was the question too personal? I'm sorry."

"No, I…I just…damn." He gave a half-laugh, still sounding somewhat nervous. "You just surprised me, that's all."

"Well?"

"Well…I don't know, really."

"You're lying."

The blonde shifted, turning his attention back to the menu as if it was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen.

"There's this…person…I used to see a lot, but don't anymore. I never realized how important…this person…was to me until after it was all over. I'd really…really like another short to see if we could make something work."

"And if you can?" Aya questioned, interested. He didn't think he had ever seen the playboy so uncomfortable. "Could you really be faithful to one person alone?"

"For this one? Definitely." He breathed, suddenly intense. Passionate. "I could really love this person, if he's let me. If I had him, I would never want anyone else."

"Him?" Aya asked, taken aback.

Yohji froze. Slowly he turned his brilliant green eyes onto him.

"What?"

"This person is a man?"

There was something strange in his eyes.

"Does that disgust you?"

"No, it's just surprising. What about all those women you date?"

"What about them?" Yohji grinned. Suddenly he was himself again. What was going on with him? "Didn't you know? Yohji Kudoh, sex god extraordinaire, does not discriminate against sex, race, or religion?"

Aya raised his eyebrows. "You surprise me, Yohji."

For a moment, a happy surprise seemed to possess the blonde.

"Ditto." He said finally, voice strange.

"What's wrong with you?"

He shook his head.

"Nothing." He grinned.


To be continued.

Obviously, I know nothing about the music business, or any business in general. The whole thing with Aya's job may very well have been influenced by Gravitation, who knows?

Red Carnations – "My heart aches for you"

I lost the webpage where I got my print-out of the symmbolizm of flowers, so I can't cite it. If anyone knows where I might have gotten it from, let me know. I'm going to be using more from my list later…Yohji's idea of subtlety. Yeah.

Response to Reviews:

Dark Avalon - Shhh! If you let everyone know you've already read the first ten chapters of this, then...oop. Should have said that more quietly. See ya at the Ren Faire!

meghan - I'm trying my best to update with some regularity. Here's hoping I can keep it up. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy EO.

Kat R. Fair - Oooh, looks like you've caught on to Yohji's not-so-evil plan! I'm flattered you're reading this even though it's not your preffered couple. Hmmm...maybe we can lure you over to our side...(evil plotting)

Blythe - Fret not, Bob will be making many more appearances.

yaoi-fan yokatta - Hmm...interesting suggestions. Not sure I'll be able to fit most of those in, but they did leave me with some rather interesting mental images. As for Aya as uke...well, the boy does tend to take on a more submissive role sometimes...

Vampire Louis - Thank you so much for the compliments. I'll try my best to continue to hold your intrest!