Happy Valentines Day, everyone. I hate this holiday, but I'm still giving you a present. Enjoy!


The movie they had chosen was nearly deserted, and while somewhat entertaining (at least in Yohji's opinion) it was also terribly transparent.

"I know how this is going to end." Yohji sighed at last. "The father is the killer."

"That's too obvious." Aya answered, not bothering to look at him. Yohji found he was very much missing the closeness they had shared prior to the evening on his couch. Before the incident, Yohji had had Aya to the point where the redhead would nearly always lay his head against Yohji's shoulder during a movie.

Now it seemed as if there were miles between them.

And unfortunately, Aya would not be persuaded to speak about what had happened between them. Yohji wasn't brave enough to attempt to force the issue and risk Aya storming away in fury.

He had to be patient. He would have another chance one day, but only if he was patient.

"Let's make it a bet." Yohji decided. Someone behind him began making shushing noises.

Aya was silent a moment, then shifted slightly closer.

"What mind of bet?" He whispered, putting his head near Yohji's so that they could speak without disturbing anyone.

Grinning, Yohji turned his lips into the delicate shell of Aya's ear and put an arm around the smaller man, enjoying having him close once more.

"Whoever is right gets to choose what we do next week – these movies just keep getting worse and worse."

His grin only grew as he caught Aya shiver at the feel of his breath against his skin. The redhead nodded once, briskly, and pulled away.


A week later, Friday once more. Yohji had won the bet.

Understandably, Yohji was in a very good mood as he dressed for the night's activities. He had made little progress with his former leader over the course of the week, but he could not allow himself to become depressed over what he had lost because of the irrepressible hope rising within him. It was going to be a good night. It had to be.

He reminded himself that Aya had been the one to initiate what had happened that night on the couch by caressing Yohji's cheek. Yohji could still clearly remember the amazing intensity and emotion which had been in his companion's eyes that night.

Aya felt something for him, that much was wonderfully, blessedly clear. Aya had wanted him.

It still haunted Yohji; how sweet Aya had tasted, how wonderful his body had felt beneath him.

There had to be something there.

Yohji was taking great care with his appearance for the evening. If Aya wanted to resist his attraction for the blonde, then said blonde was going to make it as difficult for him as possible.

He had bought a brand new pair of leather pants, and they were tighter, and rested lower on his hips, than any other pair he owned. After some debate he had chosen to wear a black fishnet top and long leather duster. He had also decided to leave his hair down, brushing it until it formed a hazy golden halo around his face.

Standing before the mirror in his apartment, he had felt pretty spiffy.

With a brazen grin for his reflection, he steeled himself for the furious glare he would receive from Aya when the redhead saw him.

He also prepared himself for the fight he knew he would have on his hands when he tried to persuade the smaller man to dress appropriately for their destination.

All his arguments, and every other thought as well, flew out of his mind some moments later when Aya opened the door.

Red pants (was that satin?) that looked poured on. A black, long sleeved shirt that was even tighter. A black,. Silver studded thing around his neck that could only be called a collar.

"What's your problem?" The smaller man glared.

Yohji had to try several times before he succeeded in picking his jaw up off the floor.

"Nothing." He lied lamely. "Are you ready?"

A sharp nod.

"Let me get my coat."


The club Yohji had chosen was new. Had only, in fact, opened two weeks ago – and thus was busier than it might have been. Yohji had been dying to do. (He had actually been invited to the opening by the owner, an ex-girlfriend, but had been unwilling to accept the invitation, as the young woman would have undoubtedly expected the two of them to hook up afterwards.)

It was as crowded and noisy as he had expected as they walked in, leading Aya by a hand resting at the small of his back.

He could tell that Aya was already hating it. Yohji swore to himself that they would only stay for a little while. This was too good a chance to show off the redhead though; many of Yohji's friends and former lovers would be there that night.

Somehow they managed to find a place to sit at the bar – all the tables had been taken. They ordered their drinks and Yohji settled back to people-watch until he was brave enough to ask Aya to dance.

"Having fun yet?" He asked, struggling to be heard over the music.

Aya scowled at him. "Why does it have to be so loud?"

Yohji laughed and turned to take his drink. He heard someone call his name and waved to the rowdy (drunk) group sitting at a corner booth.

"Friends of mine," he told Aya, "Come on."

Aya shook his head. He had his arms crossed and was leaning as close to the bar as he could, trying not to touch anyone or anything.

"Go ahead. I'll wait here."

Yohji would have attempted to bully him into coming, but realized almost too late just how very uncomfortable the smaller man was. It was more than just not liking the party scene – Aya was claustrophobic around crowds.

"We'll leave right after I talk to them," he promised with a smile, reaching out to tug playfully on a lock of Aya's hair. "We'll go do something else."

If anything, Aya paled.

"No, we don't have to," he scowled, "I'm not that selfish, Kudoh."

"But I can't have any fun if I know you aren't enjoying youself." He pointed out logically.

Aya began to glare.

"It has to be boring for you – spending so much time with a recluse like me. You deserve this, so go. Have fun. I'll be here when you're done."

Still Yohji hesitated.

"I'll go talk to my friends, you and I will dance a few songs, then we'll leave." He decided. "Is that okay?"

Aya nodded once, sharply, and turned away.

"Fine." He mumbled.

The table was still waving him over with enthusiasm. Reluctantly, Yohji left.

He quickly found that he could concentrate neither on the laughter nor the conversation of his companions, and kept catching himself looking back at Aya.

Yohji had partied with this group often, even slept with most of them, if those drunken memories were anything to go by – but he couldn't seem to remember any of their names.

A foreign man had taken Yohji's seat next to Aya at the bar, and the blonde abruptly decided that he'd had enough of visiting with his former party pals.

He left them without even a word of departure.

His eyes narrowed as he noticed that the strange man had placed his hand on Aya's leg and was leaning in close, speaking to him in quiet tones. Aya's nose wrinkled and he pulled back as he made some blank-faced answer – a sure indication that the man's breath reeked of alcohol. Eyes bearing a coldness Yohji could clearly see even from how far away he was, Aya dispassionately removed the offending hand from his leg. By the time Yohji reached his side, Aya was nearly the mirror image of the killer he had once been.

"Dance?" The blonde asked over the music as he held out his hand to his friend. Aya took it, and only Yohji – who had begun at last to understand the quiet man – would have been able to tell that he was relieved to see him.

"You're too good for me, but not that cheap whore?" The other man called after them.

Yohji turned Aya to face him and pulled him close despite the fast tempo of the song. Aya, for a wonder, pressed even closer, laying his head against the other man's chest and wrapping his arms tightly around his waist. Clinging, Yohji would have said, had he been brave enough.

"Now are you ready to leave?" Yohji asked gently, pressing his lips to the top of the smaller man's head.

"I'm sorry." Aya murmured back. "I promised myself I wouldn't ruin your evening."

"You aren't ruining it." Yohji assured him, shocked that he would have ever thought something like that. "You're still here, aren't you?"

Reluctantly, Yohji pulled back, smiling down at Aya as if he could manage to convey with his eyes just how important the man was to him. Aya wouldn't meet his gaze.

"Let's go." Yohji suggested softly.

Aya nodded, and even allowed Yohji to walk with his arm around him. The small man was more bothered than he would ever freely admit, yet the blonde saw it, anyway.

He found that he did not want to move away from Aya's side, and so he walked him to the passenger seat of the car and opened the door for him.

Aya turned to face him, and it seemed so natural to bend and brush his lips against the smaller man's.

"Yohji…"

Whatever Aya had been about to say was lost. A hand fisted in the back of Yohji's jacket, pulling him forcefully away from the redhead. Aya barely had time to register the drunk foreigner from the bar before a fist connected with his jaw.

The man outweighed him by at least a hundred pounds. The next thing Yohji was aware of, he was on the ground and black spots were dotting his vision. The man was advancing on Aya, whose eyes had gone cold and dangerous.

Aya could handle himself, Yohji knew.

Nevertheless, the blonde sprang to his feet and spun the man around, imagining his fist going through the back of the man's skull as he punched him.

His fist didn't go through the man's skull. In fact, the damned drunk didn't even fall – though by the blood on his face Yohji was fairly certain that he had succeeded in breaking the man's nose.

"I can handle it, Kudoh."

Yohji didn't listen, meeting the drunk's glare furiously.

"I saw 'em first." The man slurred.

"He's mine, asshole."

Yohji lunged.

It seemed a very long time before Aya and some people from the club managed to pull the two apart. Aya agreed to leave before the police were called and snatched Yohji's keys from him, shoving him into the passenger seat with a glare.

Silence passed between them for long enough to alert Yohji to the fact that he was in trouble. Aya was pissed.

"I'm sorry." He attempted at last, wincing as Aya narrowly cut off another driver.

Aya's voice was like ice.

"I could have taken care of him."

"I know, but I – shit! Aya, that was a fuckin' red light!"

"I'm not a child." Aya countered, raising his voice. Yohji wasn't sure he'd ever seen him so angry before. "I'm not helpless. And I'm sure as hell not your responsibility."

"Responsibility?" Yohji felt his own anger rising in response. "Gods, Aya! Is that what you think?"

"You treat me like some stupid, defensless, bimbo girlfriend!"

"You aren't – shit!"

Aya had slammed on the breaks and Yohji was abruptly thrown against the restraint of the seat belt. They were at a red light.

Aya was trembling visibly, his breathing labored. He seemed to be trying to grasp at some unbelievable thought. Slowly he turned to face Yohji, his eyes huge.

"That's it, isn't it?" He demanded. "All this time – you've been acting like we were dating."

"Well…"

Aya paled.

"Yohji…" His voice was so quiet now, so hollow. "Yohji…are we dating?"

He winced, and that was all the answer the small redhead really needed. Aya turned back to face the road, staring blankly at nothing. The light changed and he didn't move. Car horns behind them began blaring, and he didn't flinch.

"I was hoping you wouldn't notice." Yohji offered at last.

Aya took several deep breaths, blinking slowly. He drove through the light just as it was turning yellow.

"Aya?" Yohji asked after a stretch of silence that seemed to have lasted years.

"What. Do you mean. You hoped I wouldn't notice?" His companion bit out at last.

Yohji shivered at the ice in his voice.

"Shit, man. I didn't mean it the way it sounds." He mumbled miserably, slouching down in his seat.

"Then how," he demanded, "Did you mean it?"

"Damn it, Aya!"

"No, Kudoh. Tell me. I want to know."

Yohji tried desperately to think of something, anything to say. He had the feeling that the longer he stayed silent, the deeper hole he dug for himself.

Aya pulled into a random parking lot and turned off the engine, flipping on the overhead light as he turned to face Yohji.

"Go ahead." He ordered coldly. "Explain it to me, Yohji. I've got nothing to distract me now. Explain or get out."

"You can't kick me out of my own car."

Aya's lips compressed into a hard, thin line.

"You have ten seconds, Kudoh."

He sighed and looked away, unable to face that accusing glare.

"Look…back when all this first started…you would never have agreed to dating me."

"You don't know that."

"Aya, be honest, will you? At least I'm trying."

"Now."

"Now." Yohji acknowledged.

Another stretch of silence. Cold, furious.

"What about all that you told me about reforming, then?" Aya demanded at last. "Abouyt being in love and wanting to settle down? Was that all bullshit?"

"Of course not. You're being dim now."

"Kudoh, you've already pissed me off." Aya warned.

"I'm not lying, Aya, I swear I'm not. I've been with the man I love all along."

"So you've been two-timing him?"

"Aya, really! When would I have had the time?" He put a hand on the smaller man's knee, and noticed somewhere far back in his mind that the pants really were satin. "You're the only one I've seen in months." He whispered.

"Don't, Kudoh." He was staring at the hand resting on his knee as if he thought it to be a snake about to strike him. He remained as motionless as stone. His voice had come out strained and pleading.

"I've wanted you since the day we met, but it's more than that now, Aya." He said as forcefully as he could, begging Aya to listen – to believe him. "I love you."

"No."

"You don't have to ever return my feelings; being near you is all I need."

Aya shook his head wordlessly, still staring at Yohji's hand.

"Switch seats with me." Yohji offered with a sigh. "I'll drive us home."

Another shake of the head. Aya started the car once more.


The small man was still silent as Yohji walked him to his door. He hadn't told him not to; Yohji intended to follow him until expressly forbidden to continue.

The redhead's hand shook as he slid his keys into the lock, but he offered a ferocious glare when Yohji tried to help him.

"You need to come in," Aya commanded suddenly, coldly. "So that I can make sure you aren't injured."

"Aya…"

"Don't say my name like that."

"Like what?"

Silent, Aya passed into his apartment. He hung his keys on a small hook near the door, and began heading for the bathroom.

"Take off your shirt and wait for me in the kitchen."

Yohji watched him go, fear gripping him. He needed to be careful – but he had no idea what was going through his former leader's mind. There had been a time when an upset Aya would have been just as likely to kill him as to dress his wounds.

Yohji removed his shirt and slid into a chair.


Aya stopped short at the sight of Yohji, shirtless, sitting in one of the kitchen chairs.

It wasn't lust that made his breath catch in his throat.

"You look like hell." He said before he could stop himself.

Yohji smiled a little, eyes wary. Careful. Did he not feel the large bruises forming all over his torso? His entire face would be purple by tomorrow. Surely, at the very least, he had a headache.

"You look like an angel." The blonde answered softly.

Aya scowled, unable – unwilling – to think about that yet.

"Don't you hurt?" He demanded at last.

"I'll worry about that once I'm sure that you aren't mad at me."

"Idiot." He glared, moving to inspect Yohji.

There was really nothing he could do for the bruises, but there were numerous scratches down his back from when he had fallen and skidded against the pavement. Picking bits of gravel out of the cuts, Aya set to cleaning the shallow wounds.

"You can't ignore this, Aya."

"I can sure as hell try."

"I said I loved you."

"You say that to everyone you want to fuck."

"Aya…"

He shivered involuntarily at the longing and love put into that one word as Yohji pulled him around to stand in front of him.

"Don't…"

"Stop it, Aya." Yohji placed his hands on Aya's slim hips, leaning forward to rest his head against the flat planes of his stomach. "What the hell am I supposed to do?" He demanded in a hoarse whisper. "You know now. There's no more hiding. I can't rest until this is settled between us."

"Yohji…"

"I love you." He whispered. "I love you. I can't live without you…or I don't want to try, anyway. Please, just let me be with you."

He buried his hands in the blonde's hair, hands moving as if of their own accord.

"I don't love you, Yohji." He protested.

"You don't have to; just let me be near you. Gods, Aya, don't take this away from me. Please."

He slid his hands through the man's hair and Yohji tilted his head back with the movement, eyes closed. Aya stared down at him, and knew that he didn't want to lose what they had, either.

"As long as you understand…" He said finally, unable to stop himself from bending to brush his lips gently against the other man's.

"Yes," Yohji promised, "I understand."

Yohji's hands slid lower as the blonde pressed forward to deepen the kiss, pulling Aya down into his lap. The smaller man wrapped his arms around Yohji's neck and closed his eyes, reluctantly surrendering himself to the gentle persuasion of Yohji's mouth. The former playboy's hands came to rest at last at the small of his back, pressing their bodies close as Yohji's lips slipped to his jaw and Aya tilted his head back to allow him better access to the tender flesh.

Hands fisted in the back of his shirt and pulled. Aya drew back enough to let the blonde slide it over his head.

Yohji touched his skin lightly, reverently, a look of awe in his eyes.

"Gods but you're beautiful, Aya."

"This will never work." Aya breathed, arching against the other man as his mouth descended to his collar bone, warm and moist.

"Don't be such a pessimist." Yohji murmured against his skin, reaching for the front of his jeans.

Abruptly the blonde pulled away, hissing in pain. Belatedly Aya remembered the cuts on the other man's back, and realized that he had been digging his fingernails into the injured skin.

"Sorry."

Yohji began to laugh helplessly, hugging him close.

"You're such a bastard sometimes, Aya." He muttered fondly.

"I didn't do it on purpose."

"Should we move this to the bedroom?"

Aya pulled back, frowning.

"You knew all along that none of those flowers stood for friendship, didn't you?"

A small shrug, an impish smile. Yohji Kudoh was back.

"Got me."

"We can't do this." Aya decided.

Yohji paled, hands tightening convulsively on Aya.

"The relationship?"

"No, the sex." Aya answered gruffly, standing.

"Because I lied about the flowers?"

"Don't be an idiot."

Yohji followed him across the room and wrapped his arms around him from behind.

"Come on, bunny thong," he whispered affectionately, breath warm on the back of Aya's neck. "I'm not hurt that badly."

"This is too fast."

"I'll be gentle."

Aya closed his eyes. He wanted Yohji so much, had wanted him for so long…

"I'm not ready. This is happening too quickly." He leaned back into Yohji's arms, secretly mourning his decision. His lust for Yohji was nearly all-consuming – if he couldn't find some degree of control, he would be consumed. "Can you give me time?"

"Anything for you, bunny thong."

"And stop calling me that."

"Anything except that." Yohji held him a moment longer before giving him a tight squeeze and releasing him. He smiled softly as Aya turned to face him, and reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. "Can I see you tomorrow?"

"Call me and we'll see."

"I do love you, Aya."

Aya sighed, allowing himself a small smile.

"We'll see about that, too."


To Be Continued

Happy Valentines Day, everyone.

Response to Unsigned Reviews:

kirai - Thanks so much! Yes, Aya can be a bit difficult at times. Will you forgive him?

talietim69 - Aw, thanks. I hope you're not too disapointed that the time has come at last. On a side note though, the tale is far from over.

amethyst rulzz - Yay! I love fans!

morningglory - there you go. Likies?