Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ "Dancing With Eyes Closed" ❯ Easier to Forget ( Chapter 1 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: LilyMoonsAlias 
One shot of Schuldig and Yohji. Sometimes it's easier to forget. Don't own Weiss Kreuz, make nothing from the stories.
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Romance / Hentai / Shounen | Type: Shounen-ai | Uploaded On: 01.01.2007 | Updated On: 01.01.2007 | Pages: 1 | Words: 957 | Visits: 760 | Status: Completed
One shot of Schuldig and Yohji. Sometimes it's easier to forget. Don't own Weiss Kreuz, make nothing from the stories.
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Romance / Hentai / Shounen | Type: Shounen-ai | Uploaded On: 01.01.2007 | Updated On: 01.01.2007 | Pages: 1 | Words: 957 | Visits: 760 | Status: Completed
Yohji danced, giving himself up to the throbbing beat of the music and the movements of the bodies surrounding him. He liked to dance with his eyes closed so that the transition from one partner to another was experienced only through touch and smell. Each new song brought with it a new body rubbing sensually against his. Some soft and curvy and wearing flowery scents. Some hard and dominating with a dark, musky scent to tantalize his nose. Never one to discriminate, Yohji danced with them all. Sometimes he even allowed more than just casual touching. If he was interested enough, he would allow his partner a kiss, but always with eyes closed.
Yohji had been dancing for hours, trying to exhaust himself and exorcise the memory of his latest mission from his mind. Buried within the shallow and anonymous club scene he could forget what he was and just let his body take over and flow with the music. The few drinks he had allowed himself tonight were buzzing pleasantly through his system and heightening his senses. Eyes still closed, Yohji leaned back against his newest dance partner. The rough textured hands skimming the exposed skin at his waistline and the citrusy cologne told him it was another man behind him. A man just about his height, too. A rarity in Japan, and a dancer he had encountered before.
Those hands curved possessively around Yohji's hips and guided the movements of his body by touch alone. Amused and aroused by the show of dominance, Yohji reached behind himself to stroke his hands down the hard thighs behind him. Oh, that got him a response all right. One hand slid up his chest to cup his jaw and the other held him tightly at the waist as teeth nipped at the back of his neck. Yohji tilted his head to the side to give his partner better access to the tender skin below his ear and he wasn't disappointed. Firm lips grazed just below the lobe only to backtrack and flick the small bit of flesh with a talented tongue.
Breath coming faster, Yohji groaned softly. It couldn't possibly have been heard over the decibel defying crash of the music. Yet, the man behind him chuckled deep in his chest and tightened his hold on the blonde, fastening his lips to the slim column of neck and sucking hard. Blood heating up, Yohji strained against the hands holding him in an effort to turn and, for once, face the anonymous dancer being so familiar with his body. Always before the dancer had loosened his hold and melted back into the crowd before Yohji could get his eyes opened in time, preserving the secret for them both.
This time the calloused hands helped him complete the turn and skimmed up his body to cup his face before skating back down to cup Yohji's ass and begin a slow grind. Almost panting now, Yohji slid his own hands up the firm chest of his partner and into long, soft strands of hair. He played with it, carding his fingers through it, the merest beginnings of a frown touching his lips. Before he could open his eyes, lips meshed neatly with his own and that talented tongue was back, licking at the seam of his lips until he opened the on a breathy sigh. Invitation accepted, the stranger plundered and took what he wanted, but at the same time leaving a tingling, languorous pleasure to mark his possession.
Shaking now with desire, Yohji finally cracked open his eyes to meet another pair as blue as clear, autumn skies, and as familiar as his most hated recurring nightmare. Yohji froze, unable to move, his body still responding to the delicious caresses. Schuldig, his enemy, Weiss' nemesis, was the dancer so confidently stroking his body, continuing to coax a reluctant lust. Unbelievably, Yohji's body responded even more strongly, the blood rushing from his head to head due south, leaving him dizzy and a bit disoriented.
Calloused hands steadied him until he could stand on his own then released him. Schuldig never said a word. His characteristic smirk had been replaced with a warm smile of invitation. Schuldig cocked his head at Yohji, heavy orange hair sliding over his shoulder, and raised one hand in a slight beckoning gesture as he smoothly walked backwards through the hoard of bodies. They parted for him mindlessly obligingly, giving Yohji a clear view of Schuldig all the way to the back door of the club. A phantom hand ghosted over the pleasure centers in Yohji's brain, eliciting a gasp.
Without needing to be told, Yohji knew that Schuldig was waiting for him just outside the door. The decision was his now, stay and continue to dance and try to maintain the charade or walk through the door to accept a greater pleasure promised by steady blue eyes. Yohji ran shaking hands through his own disheveled hair and licked his lips, still able to taste the telepath on them. Throwing caution and common sense to the wind for he was damned anyway in his own mind, Yohji took his first tentative step toward the door. While his body buzzed with excitement, somewhere deep in Yohji's mind was the knowledge that he had just lost a battle he didn't know he had been fighting. He didn't care. The damned took what was given, leaving the purer offerings to those who deserved them, to those who never had to wash blood from their hands.
Yohji made his way to the back door, walking without hesitation, and he did it with his eyes open.
Yohji had been dancing for hours, trying to exhaust himself and exorcise the memory of his latest mission from his mind. Buried within the shallow and anonymous club scene he could forget what he was and just let his body take over and flow with the music. The few drinks he had allowed himself tonight were buzzing pleasantly through his system and heightening his senses. Eyes still closed, Yohji leaned back against his newest dance partner. The rough textured hands skimming the exposed skin at his waistline and the citrusy cologne told him it was another man behind him. A man just about his height, too. A rarity in Japan, and a dancer he had encountered before.
Those hands curved possessively around Yohji's hips and guided the movements of his body by touch alone. Amused and aroused by the show of dominance, Yohji reached behind himself to stroke his hands down the hard thighs behind him. Oh, that got him a response all right. One hand slid up his chest to cup his jaw and the other held him tightly at the waist as teeth nipped at the back of his neck. Yohji tilted his head to the side to give his partner better access to the tender skin below his ear and he wasn't disappointed. Firm lips grazed just below the lobe only to backtrack and flick the small bit of flesh with a talented tongue.
Breath coming faster, Yohji groaned softly. It couldn't possibly have been heard over the decibel defying crash of the music. Yet, the man behind him chuckled deep in his chest and tightened his hold on the blonde, fastening his lips to the slim column of neck and sucking hard. Blood heating up, Yohji strained against the hands holding him in an effort to turn and, for once, face the anonymous dancer being so familiar with his body. Always before the dancer had loosened his hold and melted back into the crowd before Yohji could get his eyes opened in time, preserving the secret for them both.
This time the calloused hands helped him complete the turn and skimmed up his body to cup his face before skating back down to cup Yohji's ass and begin a slow grind. Almost panting now, Yohji slid his own hands up the firm chest of his partner and into long, soft strands of hair. He played with it, carding his fingers through it, the merest beginnings of a frown touching his lips. Before he could open his eyes, lips meshed neatly with his own and that talented tongue was back, licking at the seam of his lips until he opened the on a breathy sigh. Invitation accepted, the stranger plundered and took what he wanted, but at the same time leaving a tingling, languorous pleasure to mark his possession.
Shaking now with desire, Yohji finally cracked open his eyes to meet another pair as blue as clear, autumn skies, and as familiar as his most hated recurring nightmare. Yohji froze, unable to move, his body still responding to the delicious caresses. Schuldig, his enemy, Weiss' nemesis, was the dancer so confidently stroking his body, continuing to coax a reluctant lust. Unbelievably, Yohji's body responded even more strongly, the blood rushing from his head to head due south, leaving him dizzy and a bit disoriented.
Calloused hands steadied him until he could stand on his own then released him. Schuldig never said a word. His characteristic smirk had been replaced with a warm smile of invitation. Schuldig cocked his head at Yohji, heavy orange hair sliding over his shoulder, and raised one hand in a slight beckoning gesture as he smoothly walked backwards through the hoard of bodies. They parted for him mindlessly obligingly, giving Yohji a clear view of Schuldig all the way to the back door of the club. A phantom hand ghosted over the pleasure centers in Yohji's brain, eliciting a gasp.
Without needing to be told, Yohji knew that Schuldig was waiting for him just outside the door. The decision was his now, stay and continue to dance and try to maintain the charade or walk through the door to accept a greater pleasure promised by steady blue eyes. Yohji ran shaking hands through his own disheveled hair and licked his lips, still able to taste the telepath on them. Throwing caution and common sense to the wind for he was damned anyway in his own mind, Yohji took his first tentative step toward the door. While his body buzzed with excitement, somewhere deep in Yohji's mind was the knowledge that he had just lost a battle he didn't know he had been fighting. He didn't care. The damned took what was given, leaving the purer offerings to those who deserved them, to those who never had to wash blood from their hands.
Yohji made his way to the back door, walking without hesitation, and he did it with his eyes open.