I'm evil. Acknowledged.
Beware.
A week without word from Aya. Of course, he had kept his phone off for most of the week, but still he took the lack of word from the redhead as a sign that the pale young man had decided not to forgive him.
Yohji hadn't been to the office since Friday; he hadn't so much as looked at any of his cases. Saturday had been spent in a bar. Sunday he had woken feeling so shitty that, once again, he swore off bars forever. The smoky air proved to be just too much for his damaged lungs.
So he had bought his own booze and stayed at home in his pajamas, drinking and watching bad made-for-tv movies. By Thursday night, he had run out of booze.
Early Friday morning, a blizzard struck. Yohji briefly considered making a beer-run anyway, then caught sight of himself in the mirror.
In short, he was a wreck.
"Pretty pathetic to be doing this to myself over a guy I haven't even slept with." He mumbled to himself, utterly and completely miserable.
He set a pot of coffee to brewing and took a hot shower. He ordered a pizza. By the time he had dressed and died his hair, the coffee was ready.
By the time his doorbell rang, he was beginning to feel something like himself again.
"Just a minute." He called, going for his wallet. Frankly, he was impressed by the delivery boy's speed in the snow.
He opened the door and stopped short, staring.
"I've got three horrible movies I know you like, those sugar-loaded cookies you used to buy and then hide from Omi, and a hand-written admission of wrong-doing." Aya said quietly, eyes averted. "It's all for you, but only if you agree to forgive me."
Yohji's hug was more like an attack, pushing them both out into the hall. Aya dropped his bagful of goodies to tentatively put his arms around the taller man, gasping quietly as Yohji squeezed him and nuzzled his neck.
Less than an hour later, they were at Yohji's table eating pizza, all forgiven between them. The comfort they had shared before the argument had not yet completely returned, but it would.
"You know you're going to have to watch those so-called 'horrible' movies with me, right?"
"Well," Aya gave a small smile. "It's doubtful that we'll be going out in this mess, anyway."
Yohji grinned, thrilled with the prospect of having Aya on his couch for the entire evening. Because of their argument, it would be weeks, or even months, before he could risk making any kind of move on Aya again, but it was nice to be near the man, anyway.
"About my sister…" Aya began quietly, looking down at the table.
"Look; let's just forget about it, all right?" Yohji offered with a strained grin. "It's none of my business. I mean, whether you see her or not, it's your decision, right?"
"I want to thank you."
"You want to…?"
"I was being selfish staying away just because of my own self-loathing. But, at the same time, I feel as if it's selfish of me to try to involve myself in her life after everything…it would break her heart to know what I've become. The brother she knew is dead. Ran is dead." He grimaced, still refusing to meet Yohji's eyes. "It's a…difficult situation."
"Damned if you do, damned if you don't?"
"You always did understand me. I don't know why it still surprises me." Aya looked up at last, eyes pleading for something Yohji couldn't name. "I called her."
"You…?"
"We didn't speak for long, and I refused to meet with her, but at least I called, right? It was…really, really good to hear her voice again."
Yohji reached across the table to cover Aya's hand with his own.
"I'm proud of you." He said quietly.
"Don't patronize me."
"I'm not! I really am…proud."
"Are you finished eating?" Aya demanded, looking away again. "We should start one of those movies if we're to have any hope of finishing more than one tonight." He pulled his hand away from Yohji's and stood, gathering up their dishes.
As Aya set up the movie, Yohji took a blanket down from the linen closet. Without discussion, the two cuddled under it together on the couch to watch the movie.
It was amazing sometimes that Aya could do such "couple-ish" things without thought, yet was still oblivious as to what was going on. He had no idea how Yohji really felt and now, thanks to their argument, it would be at least another month before Yohji could dream of enlightening him.
He knew the moment the opening credits began that Aya would hate the movie. It did, however, happen to be one of Yohji's favorites. Was it possible that the cold and unfriendly leader of Weiss had watched him enough during their time as teammates to have discovered things about him which he had never spoken about? Yohji had watched Aya that way, certainly.
But was it even possible…?
"What's wrong?" Aya asked, lifting his head to look at him. "You don't like this one?"
"No, I…" have three copies in my movie collection and you probably damn well know it. "…It's fine."
Aya grunted and settled his head against Yohji's shoulder, seemingly completely bored. His hand rested lightly atop Yohji's thigh, but since he didn't seem to have noticed it, the blonde chose not to enlighten him.
They settled into a silence that was both comfortable and, in Aya's case, bored. That was fine, in Yohji's opinion. You couldn't ever be really close to someone unless you were comfortable enough that you didn't feel the need to entertain them.
It was a lesson Asuka had taught him – and something which he had never experienced with anyone but her until Aya had re-entered his life.
Ignoring any feelings of sadness the thought brought to him, Yohji set to mentally plotting out just when and how to put the moves on Aya. It would have been easier to think up his battle strategy if he'd had a calendar with him, but then Aya might have become suspicious.
By the time the movie had reached its halfway point, he thought he may have formulated a strategy that would win Aya over within a month and a half.
Then, abruptly, he was forced to throw all his plans out the window.
Despite the sounds of numerous loud explosions and the fact that the actors kept shouting curses every few moments, Aya was almost dozing against Yohji. He couldn't help it, really. He hadn't been sleeping well since their fight (why was something he didn't really want to think about) and Yohji was so very warm and made him feel so content.
And it felt so amazingly good to have everything repaired between them. So good, in fact, that it was almost easy to ignore the lust that now reared its tempting head whenever he was around his teammate.
Aya had forced himself to accept the fact he lusted after his former teammate, just as he had forced himself to accept that his feelings did, indeed, go much deeper than lust. Thanks to their argument, he's had more than enough time to think about it, too. Despite his best efforts at ignoring the truth, he had forced himself to admit that there was something he felt for Yohji that went farther than physical attraction.
Yohji made him feel safe and…accepted. There was simply no other way to describe it. Yohji made him almost forget his past.
Aya needed that.
Aya needed Yohji.
Lifting his head from the comforting strength of his companion's shoulder, Aya glanced at the other man. Yohji had been silent since the movie had started, fully engrossed in the rather asinine storyline. Aya wished he could lose himself so easily, and for a moment he felt a flash of affectionate envy.
From his position, Aya found he had a perfect view of Yohji's strong, chiseled jaw. The blonde hadn't shaved, and darkly golden stubble dotted his tanned skin like sprinkles in icing, and Aya had to draw back a little to avoid the sudden, embarrassing urge to lick Yohji's warm, golden skin.
He managed to restrain himself, but his hand moved as if of its own accord, fingertips brushing the light stubble along Yohji's jaw line.
Yohji, when he had his attention focused on something so intently, was nearly impossible to pull away. There was a time that stood out quite strongly in Aya's memory in which Omi had actually had to douse the blonde with a bucket of water to get his attention away from one of those horrible movies of his.
The moment Aya touched him, though, Yohji's head turned. Aya's fingertips slid along his skin as he moved, until they were resting against the surprising softness of the other man's lips. Yohji's eyes were deep and solemn and unlike anything Aya had ever seen. There was…fear…there. And hope. And something Aya didn't dare give name to.
"You don't like the movie?" Yohji asked, his attempt at humor falling hollow. His voice seemed almost too quiet, too intimate. Aya moved his hand, finding the movement of Yohji's lips against his fingertips far too distracting. He slid his palm against Yohji's cheek.
Yohji leaned forward, the long strands of his soft, golden hair sliding slowly through Aya fingers.
His lips brushed Aya's – gentle, hesitant. Aya closed his eyes and allowed it to happen, feeling very young and inexperienced as Yohji pressed him backwards into the couch. The blonde's mouth pressed upon his more forcefully as Aya's quiet acceptance of the kiss encouraged him.
A hand slipped under his shirt and he gasped at the unexpected feel of the other man's skin against his own, though all Yohji did was rest his hand against his abdomen. The former playboy took the opportunity presented by Aya's gasp to slip his tongue into his mouth, to deepen the kiss so carefully and expertly as to drive all thought from Aya's mind.
Yohji's hands slid around, both now under Aya's shirt and against his back, pressing him upwards into the blonde's long, lean body.
Yohji's lips broke from his, leaving him breathless and dazed as the hot, warm mouth moved to his jaw, and then to his neck.
Aya pressed himself closer, lost to the sensations, the unfamiliar yearnings being awoken within him. He barely registered the hand directing one of his legs to wrap around a slim hip, the mouth feeding hungrily off his neck, the hardness pressed tightly against him. Yohji was completely assaulting his senses. The smell of his hair, the feel of his skin, the taste of his lips.
Yohji's mouth left his neck and moved to his lips, hungrier now, more urgent. Aya responded as much as he was able, arching himself against the other man, holding him as tightly as he could.
Yohji's mouth left his again and he wanted it back, wanted it terribly, even as his lips brushed his ear.
"Gods, Aya." The blonde whispered, pressing close. "I've wanted this for so long."
The words grounded him, brought him back to reality. No longer riding his emotions and the sensations making every fiber of his being burn with desire, he was forced to return to himself suddenly, unfairly.
He was lying on the couch, Yohji atop him, lips once more against his neck. Aya's shirt had been pushed up, exposing his abdomen in a long, clean line. His pants had been unfastened, and he tried to remember when that had happened as one of Yohji's hands slid down the back of his jeans.
"Yohji…"
The blonde moaned, lips moving downward to nibble on his collar bone.
Aya put his hands on Yohji's shoulders and pushed, forcing the man up. Having the taller man sitting atop his hips, straddling him most comfortably, did not help.
"What's wrong?" Yohji asked, looking wild and beautiful and so achingly available. Aya began pushing himself up on his elbows, forcing Yohji to get off as he sat up. "Aya?"
He stood and turned away, straightening his clothing and fighting to gain some composure.
"Aya? What happened? Come back."
"We can't do this, Kudoh."
Silence passed between them for a terrible, long moment. Aya knew the coldness in his voice had hurt the other man, but he would not take it back.
"I should leave." The redhead decided finally.
"Aya…"
"I can't let you do this, Yohji. Or I won't. You'll hate yourself tomorrow if this happens."
"No, Aya…"
Moving toward the door hurt, but he forced himself to do it.
There was someone Yohji loved, he reminded himself. Someone Yohji cared so much for that he had made himself celibate waiting for him. Aya couldn't let himself ruin that – he had never seen Yohji so serious as he had been the day he had spoken about the one he loved. Aya couldn't let the way he felt about the man destroy what Yohji had been working so hard for.
Hand on the doorknob, he turned back to Yohji with a smile that felt sad.
"You deserve to be with the person you love, Yohji." He said quietly. "If I let you do this, I'll ruin everything for you."
"Damn it! You don't understand!"
"Think about the love you're waiting for. You can't sacrifice that for one meaningless fuck with me."
He left before he began to cry.
Aya Fujimiya was not a man who had cried often in his life, although he seemed to be doing it quite often lately.
He supposed he had cried when he had been a child. He knew he had wept when his family had been taken away from him. He had certainly shed a tear when he had left Japan, Weiss, and his sister for what he had thought to be forever.
When he returned to his apartment that night, Aya wept once more.
He wept because he finally realized how much he cared for Yohji, and that he could never have him. He wept because he had come so horrifyingly close to ruining everything for the man.
He wanted Yohji, but he wanted the blonde's happiness even more.
Two o'clock in the morning, his phone began to ring. He let it ring at least seventeen times before answering.
"Kudoh."
"Nice psychic abilities, there."
"Who else would it be?"
"Have you been crying?"
"No."
"You're lying. I can always tell when you lie."
Aya sighed heavily, throwing an arm across his eyes.
"What do you want, Kudoh?"
"I want to talk to you about what almost happened."
"No. I don't want to talk about it."
"Aya…"
"Let me clarify. I won't talk about it."
There was a silence. Finally Yohji heaved a heavy sigh of his own.
"Fine." He agreed, defeated. "Just answer me one thing, okay? Aya?"
"Fine." He agreed.
"Are we still friends?"
Aya let out the breath he had been holding.
"I would really like that, Yohji."
"Me too."
Aya smiled a little, drawing his eye from his eyes.
"Good." He breathed.
A silence passed between them over the line, and while not the kind of comfortable, safe silence he was accustomed to sharing with the blonde, neither was it hostile or awkward.
"You wanna do something next Friday?" Yohji asked at last.
Aya found himself smiling a little more.
"Yeah." He answered. "Yeah, I do."
Aya Fujimiya felt very much like throwing his desk chair through the window, and perhaps jumping out after it.
The young boy he had been given sole authority over sat in a chair across from his desk glaring mulishly at him, his band mates on either side of him and also trying to glare the former assassin into submission.
The band called itself by some nonsense name Aya had given up trying to remember. Their sound was too strange and unique to ever catch on. They never would have caught the attention of any talent agent at all had the boy, who wasn't even the band's lead singer, not had such an amazing voice.
"I'm not doing anything without my band." The boy insisted stubbornly. Initially, his protests had been weak. They had strengthened at the urging of his friends, who had no doubt convinced him that the label would do anything to keep him.
"We only want you." Aya informed him coolly, feeling as if he had already repeated those words thousands of times today. "You signed a contract. There's nothing you can do about it."
"I didn't know what I was signing!"
Aya fought the urge to use the full-force of his glare and frighten the boy out of his stupidity. "It was your responsibility to read the contract before signing."
A polite tap came at his door just a moment before his secretary stuck her head in.
"Fujimiya-san, Kudoh-san is here to see you."
He glanced at the clock and nearly cursed. He hadn't realized how late it was.
"Thank you; tell him I'll be finished in a few moments." He turned his attention back to the "band" before him.
"You are a bad man." The girl, the actual lead singer of the band, informed him angrily. "You tricked him into signing to take advantage of him!"
Aya met her gaze unflinchingly.
"You sing like a drunken banshee." He informed her coldly. "And your so-called band plays their instruments like a group of brain-dead monkeys. We are not interested in the rest of you." He rose, deciding that the meeting was over. "You will show up for recording on Monday," he informed the boy, ignoring the rest, "Or I will see you in court."
"Bastard." The girl hissed as he brushed past the group, leaving his office first.
Yohji stood outside his office chatting happily with Satoshi Morita. Without thinking, Aya moved to hug the blonde.
Had he paused to think about it, he wouldn't have done it.
After their little…mistake…last week, hugging was just a little too awkward. Not to mention Morita was right there.
And Aya didn't want to seem the type who needed a hug after a particularly trying day.
For a moment, standing awkwardly in Yohji's arms, he thought he felt the gentle brush of lips against his temple.
Abruptly, Yohji pulled away. He left one arm around Aya, an uncomfortable reminder that the entire office thought they were dating. They would have to make it a point to "break up" soon.
Then Yohji would have more time to pursue the man he really loved.
"Well, I got what I came here for." The blonde announced, laughter in his voice. Morita was asking what they had planned for the evening when the door to Aya's office opened and the "band" came out.
The lead singer's lip curled into a sneer as her eye fell on him and Yohji.
"Fags." She hissed, leading her group past.
Aya grasped Yohji's wrist hard enough to hurt, and the blonde wisely changed his mind about commenting.
"There's a restaurant opening and we're going to check it out." Aya informed Morita, ignoring the kids completely.
"That should be fun." The rotund man commented.
Aya stood to chat a while longer, waiting until the "band" had left before saying his goodbyes and leading Yohji away.
"Where are you parked?" He asked as they stepped out into the still-bright sunlight.
"I took a cab." The blonde answered, pulling his sunglasses down over his eyes. "You're driving tonight."
"Me?"
"What's wrong with you driving? Oh. Oh…nevermind. I get it."
"Get what?" He glared.
Yohji laughed, and Aya knew by his tone that he was teasing.
He also knew that whatever his companion was about to say had about a ninety-five percent chance of pissing him off.
"What?" He demanded.
"You're a little uke boy!" Yohji crowed.
Aya punched him.
To be continued
Well, damn.
(Blinks innocently.)
What?
Review please.
Response to Unsigned Reviews:
RANMA - All in good time, my dear. All in good time.
kirai - I'm very mean to them. But I'm mean to a lot of people. (giggle)
Glynwulf - I hope the wait wasn't too bad this time. Thanks!
Moon without a Sun - (flinches) You're going to hurt me, aren't you?
