Ah! Changing Circumstances seems to be running my life all the sudden! I'm so re-obsessed all the sudden that I can't believe it. Nevertheless, I by no means have any plans to abandon my other works. Out of them all, I would say Eternal One is my favorite, but it doesn't get as much response. That makes me really sad, but I'll give the others priority anyway. When I have the time I'll write a RuroKen straight fic to pull in more people, but right now I'm about at my limit.
Thanks to everyone for the support. I really like Bridges and I'm glad it seems to have found a few fans. I hope you all stick with me!
Warnings: I own nothing. Shounen-ai for the moment. Language.
Aya did not often allow himself the luxury of laughter. There were many days which passed in which he did not relax even once, not even when sleeping. Even before his sister's "accident" he had found it difficult to, as Yohji put it, "unclench."
Relaxing involved a certain degree of trust which he simply did not have. Aya-chan had been the only one with the ability to bring him out of his shell. Aya-chan, and now, apparently, Yohji.
Covered in dried paint, ribs sore from laughter, Aya lay sprawled across his new used couch, hip flush with Yohji's, the other man's arm around his shoulders and his long hair tickling his arm where the blonde had rested his head near Aya's shoulder.
He was glad he had agreed to the apartment.
Evening. They had finally finished the bedroom, each wearing more paint than the walls. They had ordered takeout and were sitting together at the table in a comfortable silence when the phone began to ring.
Aya liked his new kitchen; he had already decided that it was his favorite room. During the day, it was filled with sunshine. As the sun began to set it became…cozy.
The walls were a medium shade of blue, the cabinets and trim white, the floor black tile. The slightly worn table and set of four chairs were white to match. Yohji had bought him a rug as a housewarming present and they had put it under the table. Somehow the room was thus transformed. That section of the apartment, at least, felt like home.
Aya's cell was sitting next to Yohji's on the counter when it began to ring. Yohji leaned his chair back on two legs, stretched out his arm, and grabbed it before Aya could rise.
"Aya's phone." He drawled lazily. "This is Yohji, his incredibly sexy and unbelievably willing boy-toy love slave secretary. How can we be servicing you?" He listened a few moments, a strange expression on his face. "Yeah, he's right here." He answered finally, lip twitching.
Aya only stared at him as he held out the phone.
"Who is it?"
"Don't be rude, now." The blonde teased.
Warily, Aya accepted the phone.
"Hello?"
"Fujimiya-san, I am so sorry to be interrupting your evening!" The voice of Mei Teng exclaimed. Aya winced visibly, glaring at his now silently-laughing friend. "If I had known you had something planned with Kudoh-san, I never would have called!"
"It's fine." He assured her, voice barely polite. "He was just about to leave, anyway."
Yohji smirked leisurely, sticking his tongue out at him.
"Well, listen, I won't keep you long – I just wanted to know if you had plans for tomorrow."
"…Why?"
"I know it's short notice, but an old friend of mine from college is coming in tomorrow night and I don't want to give him the wrong idea. Do you think you and Kudoh-san could double with us?"
He didn't answer.
"Aya-kun, please?" She asked in a babyish voice. "I would be forever grateful! And we can discuss the dinner Wednesday night."
"What does she want?" Yohji whispered.
Aya narrowed his eyes and smiled evilly.
"We'll be there." He promised.
By the time Yohji came to his door the next night, Aya was very much regretting his rash decision. Not only did Yohji seem to not mind playing his lover for yet another night, but he seemed to actually enjoy the act.
He showed up at Aya's door in a pair of well-fitted black dress slacks and a button down top that shimmered from blue to green. Only three of the buttons were clasped, but he appeared far less slutty than usual for certain. He had tied back the front of his hair, left his sunglasses at home, and arrived with a bouquet of blue and white violets.
Aya leaned against the open door, unwilling to let Yohji in, unwilling to accept the flowers. He felt rather common and frumpy in the presence of the golden god before him.
"You don't have to start pretending so soon, Kudoh." He stated, oddly depressed all the sudden.
"Just getting into character." Grinning, he held out the flowers. "To friendship."
Aya shook his head, but accepted the offer. "Violets don't stand for friendship, either." He stated, retreating into the apartment to put them in water. No need to mention that he still had the carnation Yohji had given him the first night they had gone out. He had pressed it into a book when it had begun to fade, and carefully hadn't thought about his reluctance to throw it away.
He did not yet have any dishes, much less vases, so he stoppered the sink, filled it with a little water, and placed the violets inside.
When he turned from his task, he found Yohji standing right there, much too close and definitely invading his personal space.
The other man's eyes were dark and strange as he gazed down at him, slowly lifting a golden hand to gently brush hair out of Aya's eyes.
"You look really beautiful tonight, Aya." He stated quietly.
The redhead pushed him away and stepped quickly past.
"Save it for when we have an audience."
Yohji grinned to himself as he slipped a hand under the table and laid it to rest against Aya's thigh, watching as the younger man gave a small, involuntary jump.
It was just too much. Too amusing, too alluring, too perfect.
Mei Teng was beginning to be one of his favorite people in the world.
Certainly she was annoying as hell chattering on about some foolish nonsense not even her date seemed to find interesting, but were it not for her, they would not be there at that very moment. He probably wouldn't have even seen Aya tonight.
Yohji began to slide his hand up the other man's leg, slowly enough that the redhead wouldn't notice until he was being fully groped right in the middle of the restaurant.
Weiss' former leader truly did look beautiful. He was, of course, always beautiful. Yohji had thought so since the day they met.
But that didn't mean he ever got tired of looking at him.
Soft, dark khakis that fit in such a way as to perfectly show off his ass. Oversized blue sweater that set off the bluer tones of his eyes. Hair a crimson halo around that perfect, pale face. He had certainly attracted stares since they had entered the restaurant – and the most enticing thing about it was that he didn't even seem to notice the attention.
But that was Aya. Completely desirable. Completely unattainable.
Completely oblivious.
Yohji inched his hand further up the other man's thigh, trying to contain his glee that he had not yet been caught. Aya was the ultimate prize – a prize he had planned to claim since the night at the club and Mei Teng, bless her insensible soul, was making his task so deliciously easy.
There had been a time, not too long ago, when Yohji would have thrown all of himself into the endeavor. Doing so, he would have managed to get Aya into his bed within a mere matter of hours. Love him and leave him, quick and easy. Of course, Yohji probably wouldn't have survived the attempt.
But what he had told the redhead was true. Fucking was too easy; he wanted, needed, a new challenge.
He wanted someone to love.
He wondered at how his karma could possibly be good enough that, when he at last decided it was time to settle down, not only did his longtime impossible fantasy walk back into his life, but it was an Aya much changed. An Aya more beautiful than ever, yet less likely to kill him for trying something.
Aya jumped as he realized quite suddenly that Yohji's fingertips were brushing his groin. He sat up very straight, and carefully did not move.
Mei Teng continued to chatter on.
Yohji slid his hand further into Aya's lap and leaned in close to him, breathing gently against his skin and nearly crowing with pleasure as the smaller man shivered. He leaned in closer, carefully drawing the tender skin of Aya's earlobe into his mouth and nibbling a moment before lightly kissing the skin just under his ear.
When he drew away he realized that Mei Teng had at last fallen silent and was watching them, chewing on a thumbnail.
"Hot." She breathed finally.
Aya stood quickly, jostling the table and nearly toppling his seat. His face was red, his hands trembling.
"E…excuse me." He stammered shakily. He fled, making a quick escape to the restrooms.
Yohji sighed happily, leaning back in his seat and tucking his hands behind his head, sated. He grinned brazenly at Mei Teng and her date, happy with himself.
No night had ever lasted so long, Aya decided, standing in the elevator with Yohji at the end of the evening. It had been at least an hour since the redhead had deemed speak to the blonde.
The elevator stopped at his floor. Yohji caught his arm before he could make his exit.
"You aren't going to invite me back to your room?" He asked lightly.
Aya glared, wrenching his arm away.
He did not speak to Yohji again until Wednesday, when the other man showed up at his office.
"What the hell do you want, Kudoh?" he glared, watching the blonde flop down into one of the chairs set before his desk.
"What the hell do you expect me to do when you keep hanging up on me?"
"I'm angry at you."
"Don't you have that big dinner tonight?"
"I'll go without you."
He raised his eyebrows. "Do you think that's a good idea?"
The smaller man winced, knowing Yohji was right. Still he continued to glare. "I'm angry at you." He repeated in a growl.
Something deep within Yohji's eyes flinched before the blonde looked away, staring up at the ceiling as if he couldn't bring himself to care about the conversation overmuch.
"I got a little carried away." He relented finally. "Sorry."
"You completely humiliated me!"
Yohji looked down at his lap and shrugged as if in discomfort. "What do you want me to say, Aya? It's too late to take it back now, isn't it? It was supposed to be a date, wasn't it? How the hell else was I supposed to act?"
"Groping is not an acceptable behavior in public!"
"No one else minded." He grumbled. "Hell, they thought it was sweet."
"Yohji." He was trying his hardest to be patient and was just (barely) succeeding. "Yohji, when you behave that way, I don't know how to react." Yohji's head shot up once more and he stared at Aya as if the man had said the most surprising thing in the world. Aya ran over the sentence in his mind and could find nothing wrong with it. He decided to continue anyway. "We can't be caught lying about this, Kudoh. It could cost me my job."
"What am I supposed to do then?" The blonde countered. "We're pretending to be a couple. Couples touch, Aya. They hug and they kiss and they laugh."
"You went too far." Silence passed between them and Aya felt a sudden surge of fear. He was angry, true, but he wasn't willing to give up this strange friendship he and his former teammate had been so painstakingly forming. "Look Yohji, you caught me off guard and I don't like being surprised."
"I'm sorry, all right?"
"Maybe ground rules are in order." Aya mused. "If we decide together what is or is not permissible, then you won't surprise me and I won't handle the situation quite so poorly."
"Okay."
Neither moved. Aya fought the urge to snap at the man.
"I need time to think." He said finally. "Leave me alone."
"We have that thing tonight. You don't have time to think."
Aya cursed; how could he have forgotten?
Yohji sat up from his slouch, pulling his sunglasses down over his eyes. "You got a lunch break coming up?" He asked, voice unreadable. "I'll treat."
Aya checked the clock on his computer and nodded briskly. "Fine," He decided, "We can do that. But why?"
A slow grin spread itself across Yohji's face.
"Practice."
By the time Aya returned to work he was more than ready to be saying goodbye to Yohji Kudoh. They had gone to a small fast food restaurant, chosen a secluded booth, and set to discovering just how much Aya had been prepared to let his "date" get away with.
As it turned out, the answer was "not much."
"Maybe we can tell everyone that we haven't been dating very long." Aya offered unwilling, as always, to leave the blonde's side.
Yohji stared at him speculatively and Aya had ti fight the sudden urge to rip the sunglasses from his face so he could see his eyes.
"Can I ask you something personal?" The former playboy asked finally.
Aya found himself nodding.
"You've never dated anyone before, have you?"
"Is it that obvious?"
"Don't be afraid of me, Aya." He said sincerely. "I won't hurt you."
The redhead released the breath he hadn't known he was holding.
"Good thing this is all only pretend." He said with a small smile. "I think that may be the only reason I can trust you." He stepped away from the car, shoving his hands. He'd had the sudden, strange urge to brush that gleaming golden hair out of his companion's eyes. "I'll see you tonight."
Yohji stared at him for a long moment before starting his car.
"Yeah." He said, annoyance in his voice. "See you."
Aya watched him drive away, lost as to what he had said to upset the man. Wasn't he supposed to be the volatile one?
Yohji showed up at his door an hour early bearing an offering of wine and roses.
"I'm not even ready yet, Kudoh." Aya glared, annoyed that Yohji had once again managed to transform himself into some stunning Adonis. "What are you supposed to be, anyway?"
The confident smile slipped from those lovely lips.
"What do you mean?"
He was wearing a finely cut black suit, perfectly tailored to his body, a crisp white shirt and a blood red tie. His hair was tied back into a neat tail.
"Are you supposed to be the god of wet dreams or the angel of the adult film industry?" He asked bluntly.
Yohji's eyes grew very wide.
"Aya!"
He turned and went back into his apartment, leaving Yohji to decide whether to follow or not.
"Should I go change?" Yohji asked in worry, following as Aya had known he would. "I don't want to screw this up for you, love."
Love. That gave him pause.
But it was one of the pet names they had agreed to using for their "cover." Aya had to get used to it.
He shook his head and turned back to Yohji, snatching the roses from his hand.
"Red roses don't stand for friendship, either." He informed him in annoyance. "Yellow ones do."
"Oh. Well, at least they smell good, right?"
Rolling his eyes, Aya continued into the kitchen. He had finally bought some vases, and he put the roses in one of them before setting them next to the violets.
Tohji's long arms wrapped around him from behind and he fought the urge to pull away. Practice, he reminded himself. Yohji was doing him a big favor by pretending to be his lover; he couldn't yell at him for making him uncomfortable. He had to get used to the caresses and embraces.
"Do you want me to go home and change?" Yohji offered again, breath warm against his neck.
Aya scowled. "You'll look the same no matter what you put on. It can't be helped."
A low, utterly masculine chuckle. Lips momentarily brushed his neck before he was released.
"Go get dressed."
"We don't have to leave for another hour."
"And I plan to put that hour to good use. Please, Aya, go get dressed."
Twenty minutes later found Aya Fujimiya fully dressed and sitting on his couch with a glass of wine, allowing Yohji to brush his hair.
"I'm going to braid it." The blonde announced, running his fingers through the soft strands. Aya found himself nearly purring with pleasure.
"Is it long enough?"
"For a French braid, yeah."
Aya closed his eyes, feeling very relaxed and content. When Yohji finished in his task, he pulled Aya backwards against his chest and wrapped his arms around him and Aya didn't even care.
He felt at peace with Yohji as he hadn't felt since long before he became a murderer. At that moment the blonde could have done anything he wanted to him and he would have let him.
Too soon, Yohji released him, patting his leg.
"Come on, we need to leave."
With a squeal of "Fujimiya-san!" Mei Teng had latched herself onto them the moment they entered the banquet hall the company had rented for the night. Dressed in a shimmery, low-cut thing much too young for her, she placed herself between Aya and Yohji and entwined her arms with theirs before proceeding to lead them around the room to mingle.
"Now, now, don't get your hopes up, ladies, these two are madly in love with each other – you should have seen them the other night; they couldn't keep their hands off each other! It really is true, the good ones are all either married or gay – and these two might as well be both! But aren't they pretty!"
Aya wished she'd either stop or lower her voice. They had attracted the attention of Jiro Nakamura, the last of the three whose approval Aya needed to gain.
If the man didn't like a man who looked foreign, how would he feel about a man who chose to date other men?
Aya didn't want to even begin to think about it.
He wished he would have put a little more consideration into the whole thing.
After a while, everyone began to settle themselves into chairs for dinner. Gratefully, Aya slid his arm from Teng's.
"Where are you going?" She pouted, obviously enjoying her evening.
At least someone was.
"Yohji and I need to go find our seats." He answered, holding out his hand to the blonde. Yohji took it, coming to his side with a cheerful grin. "We'll talk to you later, though."
"Don't be ridiculous, Aya-san!"
When had she decided she could use his first name?
"You're going to sit with me!" She exclaimed, motioning to a table at which sat both Nakamura and Morita (the latter of which appeared to be already drunk.)
"I don't think…"
"Now, Aya-san, I had to go to a lot of trouble to get permission for you and Yohji-kun to sit with me. If you try to argue I'll be offended!" She scolded.
Aya wasn't sure, as he walked to the table hand-in-hand with Yohji, if he felt more like a child who had to be lead everywhere, or like the most flamingly gay individual ever to walk the surface of the planet.
The truth was, that Aya had never liked wome…well, that was to say, he wasn't exactly…
Uncomfortable with his own train of thought, the young man ducked his head quickly. He was certain that if he met anyone's eyes he would begin to blush or worse.
As if sensing his sudden discomfort, Yohji dropped his hand and, instead, wrapped his arm around his waist. Aya followed the gesture, for some unexplainable reason feeling better with the other man's arm around him than with holding hands. Not that he didn't enjoy holding hands with Yohji; it was comfortable and safe.
And not only did that frighten him, but somehow having Yohji's strong, calloused hand enveloping his own was an experience too private for him to willingly share with others.
He shrugged off the thought, reminding himself that it was Yohji he was with. Yohji, the notorious playboy. Yohji, the infamous womanizer.
Yohji, his friend and former teammate, who was only doing him a favor.
Mei Teng made introductions around the table as they took their seats. The number of hostile looks directed their way made Aya want to find somewhere to hide for the night.
But Yohji's hand slipped under the table to rest on his knee the moment the lanky man took the seat beside him, and it was as if that hand was an anchor, keeping him firmly in place.
With a hand that trembled very slightly, he reached out and picked up his water glass.
The polite conversation swirled around him without his paying much attention to it. Food was brought to them and he picked at it, barely noticing as Yohji's hand left his knee in favor of the back of his neck, long fingers toying lightly in his hair. He leaned in close and brushed his lips against Aya's jaw.
"Relax, will you?" He whispered under the context of kissing Aya's cheek. Drawing back, he chuckled seamlessly at the punch line of a joke Satoshi Morita had been telling. Aya could manage nothing more than a weak smile.
"So, how did you and Fujimiya-san meet, Kudoh-san?" A slim woman with short, spiky hair asked. Aya was fairly certain she was some photographer bigshot the record label was trying to woo into working with them. Chizaru-something. "As I understand it, he's only been back in Japan for a short time."
"We knew each other before, didn't we, love?" Yohji squeezed his shoulder, grinning.
"And you were together then?"
"No, I don't have that kind of luck." The blonde laughed. "Though I'm indescribably grateful I've gotten a second chance to act on my feelings."
"Second chance?"
"Oh yeah. I've wanted Aya since the first moment I laid eyes on him. Who wouldn't? I must have some incredible good fortune to have been given the chance to date someone so amazing." Yohji looked at him, eyes deep and dark and warm. He looked so sincere, so loving, that Aya had to remind himself that this was all only an act.
An overweight, somewhat stumpy-looking man stood, throwing his napkin down onto the table. "Excuse me," He said, lip curling. "I think I've lost my appetite."
Silence passed around the table for several long moments. Aya felt very warm and somewhat sick. His vision was swimming.
He excused himself as conversation was beginning once more and made his way quickly to the restrooms.
He turned the water on as cold as it would go and stuck his face under the faucet until the heat left him and he began to calm. When he straightened, he accepted the handful of paper towels offered to him by someone who had entered without his noticing.
"It takes a certain degree of bravery to walk into the lion's den – and stupidity to do so without showing fear."
Aya's head snapped up and he found himself staring into the stern face of Jiro Nakamura.
"You don't strike me as a stupid man, Fujimiya."
He tried to think of an answer, but his voice wouldn't work. The other man smiled very slightly.
"I've been thinking about it, Fujimiya, and I've decided that I may be persuaded to agree to the Hirata project…if you would agree to leave your present job and come to work for me."
"Nakamura-san!"
"You can tell me your decision by next Friday." Nakamura said, handing him the remaining paper towels he held. "Take all the time you need to compose yourself before coming back."
To Be Continued
The world is not a perfect place. People will always surprise you, whether for good or for ill. See you in ch. 5.
Blue violets – faithfulness
White violets – "Let's take a chance on happiness"
Red roses – love
Response to Reviews:
moimoi-chan - Aya's cluelessness is very important, that it is. (Grins)
tigermink - thanks for such a nice review! It's always been a bit of a challenge finding Weiss fanfiction, at least for me (much less information, sigh) Have you read Guilty Red or Rhosyn Du? They're really good.
Borglemash - I'm glad you're enjoying it. I hope I can continue to interest you in my little plotline. ) Thanks so much.
talietim69 - Aya's uke-ness seems to be everyone's primary concern. I would think it's pretty obvious, but then, I can't really see him any other way. Actually, with my stories, I tend to let the characters have a pretty equal share. (More realistic that way.) But they always tend to lean a bit one way or another, nevertheless...
nates - You like my ocs? (Does happy dance) They kind of annoy me, especially Mei, but they're vital to my plans. Guess I have to suffer through them. Thanks for the really great review, it really brightened my day.
Moon without a Sun - )
