Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ I Hate Him ❯ What you should know ( Chapter 11 )

Disclaimer: All characters and their outstanding speeding tickets belong to WeiB Kruez

and Koyasu Takehito . . . I have no money!

Yohji watched as Aya hung up the phone, rubbing at his eyes. It had taken three hours to get a hold of Aya-chan. Yohji had sat back at the kitchen table and listened as Aya was put through a strange circle; having to call a friend that should know where Aya-chan was when his sister wasn't at home. Then, the friend had Aya call a cell-phone of someone who should be with Aya-chan. The person on the cell-phone had Aya call the headquarters of the volunteer branch Aya-chan was working for.

Yohji started to smoke as Aya was put on hold. It was entertaining to watch Aya try to pace but was kept in close by the phone cord. Aya walked around the corner of the door, the curled wire keeping him in the room. He was pissed that he had been put on hold while someone tried to locate Aya-chan. Leaning against the wall was probably uncomfortable, because Aya walked back into the kitchen. He played with the phone cord absently, beating his fingers on the counter in irritation. It was an Aya thing to do: tapping his pointer finger several times before drumming all of his fingers at once, growling at being put on hold for so long.

After the third cigarette, Aya had finally managed to get a hold of Aya-chan. There had been a very weak and quiet argument from Aya's side, full of long holds as he listened to Aya-chan. Aya didn't have the heart to yell at his cute, little sister. Yohji didn't think Aya would even know how to be mean to Aya-chan. This agreeing, submissive Aya contrasted to how he had been after the commercial. Quite a change from the redhead gasping helplessly on the floor. It had taken Yohji hours to calm Aya down.

"No, Aya-chan, don't hang up… No… I'm not saying that… Aya-chan, don't go," Aya argued into the phone. Yohji waited as Aya managed to keep his sister on the phone, getting answers to some of his questions. Finally, Aya was forced to hang up the phone when Aya-chan said a rushed goodbye and killed the connection.

"She's going to be on the evening flight with Sebastian," Aya told Yohji after a moment's silence. Yohji snubbed out the rest of his cigarette, grinding it into a plate left on the table. Wouldn't Omi be happy to know Yohji was using the dish as an ashtray? Yohji stood up, coming up closer to Aya.

"Who's Sebastian?" Yohji asked. Aya wasn't looking at him yet, still staring at the phone. Like Aya-chan might call back. Fat chance. Something had changed in Aya-chan. Before, you didn't need to go through five people to talk to her. She would have been there for her brother, twenty-four hours of the day. Yohji couldn't believe that she hadn't seemed to care at all. Yohji had heard Aya's side of the conversation, and it sounded like Aya-chan had been trying to hang up on her beloved brother for the past five minutes.

"Her boyfriend," Aya informed Yohji, his voice steady. Yohji blinked. Boyfriend? When had Aya-chan found a boyfriend? In Africa? There was something wrong with all of this. Aya sniffed, brushing hair out of his face before he looked Yohji in the face.

Nothing. Absolute silence. Aya didn't talk about things that upset him. He was just quiet, unbearably so. It made Yohji worry. He wanted to know what was being left unsaid. What words weren't being shared between them? It left him on the outside. He didn't know how to help. Aya was the kind of man wouldn't tell another person what was wrong. All Yohji could do was stay by the kitchen table as Aya pulled out a chair.

Aya sat down heavily, clasping his hands together in front of him. He brought them up to his forehead, resting his head on his interlocked fingers. Aya looked worn down. Yohji couldn't blame the guy, not after having a panic attack and then finding out his sweet little sister had a boyfriend. What a way to finish off the cake. Yohji was going to slap Aya-chan when she came in. Out of Aya's sight, of course.

"Aya," the redhead said to himself, like saying her name would bring his sister back. Yohji was at a lost. It was out of his depth. He didn't have a sister that had morphed into a bitch. What could Yohji offer? He didn't have any sage-like advice that stemmed from years of experience. All Yohji could give Aya was a good fuck to forget everything with. And he couldn't even do that for Aya, because of some damn memory that Yohji couldn't even fight. At least with real people there was something to hit.

Yohji grabbed the bottom of his chair and yanked the whole thing over until he was sitting right next to Aya, their knees touching together. Aya looked up from behind his hands, glaring at Yohji for presuming to move in on his personal space. Yohji put a hand on Aya's back, touching him lightly, trying to comfort him. Aya kept looking at Yohji, glaring until he was sure that the playboy wasn't going to try anything more.

It was strange to have Aya lean in. Oh, Yohji knew very damn well how much Aya had been deprived of natural, safe human contact. He knew how much Aya needed to have innocent comfort, something that wouldn't him. Aya had denied himself that contact, and had been repeatedly deprived of a normal hug. Back when they were just killing people, Aya had remained aloof to keep himself from gaining a weakness for a person. Then, after he didn't get enough guilt from that night time job, Aya went and became a prostitute. That wasn't a job one could expect tender, loving care from.

Yohji had recently become an expert at them as well, pulling Aya against his chest and wrapping his arms around Aya's body. Yohji could just hold him as close as possible. Do his best to pretend that nothing would ever touch the smaller man again. At least, when Aya was pressed against him like this, Yohji felt like he could do something for him.

Besides, this way he could be certain where Aya was. Yohji didn't like Aya to be away from his side for too long. It worried him to the point of getting sick. He wondered about where Aya might be, or where Aya might wind up. Yohji didn't like to wonder about the location of the redhead.

* * *

Ken spun out to a stop on the sidewalk, right before the stairs leading up to Omi's college. The sprawling campus was intimidating. The huge, main brick building towered over Ken. It made him regret never bothering with that whole higher education deal. It was too late now. Ken already had two jobs that paid enough to live comfortably. He was happy with his life, even if he hadn't done anything that was going to win a Nobel Peace Prize.

He parked the bike right there on the walkway, even though two students stared as they passed by. Ken pulled the book out from under the shirt before he ran up the stairs, blowing past the students and throwing open the door. A startled janitor jumped out of Ken's path as he ran down the hall, looking up at the signs desperately.

There. Main office. That could work. The door was opening, a girl laughing as she said something to the people inside the door. Ken shoved past her and the girl screamed before she fell to the floor. The backpack came off her shoulder, dumping out all of her books and pencils and sending them scattering across the floor. Ken ignored it, slamming the book on the counter in front of a secretary.

"Omi Tsukiyono. What classroom is he in?" Ken demanded. The secretary blinked up at him over large, cat-eye classes, the safety chain dangling around her neck. She was an older woman, gray stiff hair brought up in a bun low on the back of her head. Her face was wrinkled and sagging, but the thin, sharp features and bird-like nose were still prominent.

"Excuse me, sir, but we don't give out students' schedules," she explained in a cracking, nasal voice. Ken winced away from her tone. Omi went to school with people like this? Ken had more respect for the boy by the minute. Ken was already grinding his teeth, her voice and attitude rubbing him the wrong way.

"Listen, he forgot his book at home. It's very important that I get it to him. He's got a test and he needs the book," Ken tried to reason. She looked at Ken, her face not changing one bit.

"We don't give out schedules."

Ken clenched his fist to release the bugnunks that weren't there. What part of 'he needs it' did she miss? The woman glared at him for a moment, making sure that she got the point across, before she turned back to the computer and began to type something in. Clearly ignoring him.

"Listen, either give me his class or I'll go around to every room on campus," Ken threatened. She paused in her typing, looking up at Ken in something that was a mix between disgust and irritation. It reminded Ken of Aya; however, the reception's glare was nowhere near the homicidal, crazy looks that Aya could throw around. It didn't intimidate Ken in the least.

"Well, won't you get your exercise today?" the woman sniped, pushing the glasses up on the bridge of her nose. Ken stared at her. Was she serious? Apparently, she was, because the woman turned back to her keyboard and began to slowly hit the keys, looking at the monitor as she put in words. She picked up a pencil, tapping it on a piece of paper as she found some sort of error.

The girl that had finally managed to gather all of her spilt school supplies together yelped as Ken grabbed the pencil from the receptionist's hand and stabbed it into the top of the desk. The pencil cracked, splintering into halves. He had the receptionist's attention now as he held up the broken pencil in one hand, breathing hard with anger.

"If you don't want me to stab this in your eye, tell me what class Omi Tsukiyono is in right. Now," Ken hissed, very serious. The receptionist stared at the pencil clutched Ken's fist, her eyes going wide. All activity in the office stopped, everyone noticing that a man was threatening to do bodily harm to an old woman.

Ken picked up the book from the counter, smiling at the receptionist as she shakily told him the classroom. He nodded to the girl on the floor as she held her backpack in front of her chest like a ward as he walked by. The woman was already picking up the phone to call the police. Ken started running again, holding the book in one hand as he went toward the neighboring building. Just his luck that Omi's class would be in another building and on the third floor.

He found the building Omi's class was in, lost for a moment as he looked up and down the halls. Ken couldn't see the stairway entrance. A boy laughed as he opened up a door, and Ken heard the sound of feet on steps. A class was apparently getting out as more students filed out of the stairwell.

Ken pushed his way through the crowd, working around the students like a fish going upstream. More then one dawdling teenager was shoved out of the way. Someone yelled after Ken, but he was already rounding on the next set of stairs. He rocketed up the steps, taking them two at a time.

By the time he made it to the top step, Ken was starting to breathe hard. Even athletes got winded when they had to run across campus and up stairs. He needed to see Omi, right now. He needed to give him the book. Why did his class have to be on the third floor? Just his luck. Ken huffed as he counted the classroom numbers out loud, glancing at the labels.

"3… 1… 0," Ken panted, skidding to a stop. He had found it. Omi would be in this classroom, somewhere in the middle of the lecture hall, lost and confused without the book. Why hadn't he woken up earlier to tell Omi to get to school? Well, Omi wouldn't have to worry anymore, because he had come to save the day!

* * *

This is not my day! Omi cried out, if in his mind alone. Of course, there were no parking spots left by the time Omi had gotten to school. He had parked it behind some bushes, using a bit of his covert operation skills to hide the bike until he could move it at lunch. He was late, the most tardy he had ever been in his entire life! How could he explain this?

Omi continued rocketing down the halls, unable to even pretend to acknowledge his classmates' 'good mornings.' He passed by familiar faces without heed. He didn't have time to talk to people! How could he have just missed the fact that the big hand was for the hour, little hand for the minutes? Oh geez, its so embarrassing!

"Excuse me!" Omi cried out, half in tears as he threw open the door to his classroom. The professor glanced up in shock at Omi's loud entrance, the entire class's eyes on Omi. He panted, bowing deeply in apology to his teacher, embarrassed out of his mind. How could he have been so late? God, he was stupid!

"Tsukiyono-kun… Are you all right?" The professor asked in true concern. He had heard Omi's guilty, breaking explanation of why he had missed school. Something about his older brother being involved in a very, very serious car accident. It was more then heartbreaking to see a bright student take a leave of school because of a series of bad luck and family crises. The boy still tried hard to attend school, and everyone adored his eager spirit.

"I'm so… so… so fucking stupid!" Omi cried out, fed up with it all. Yohji had rubbed off on him, more then once being at the end of one of Yohji's loud, guilty rants. The whole class gasped. Nobody thought the sweet, cute boy could swear like that. The professor's jaw dropped, his bearded chin sagging under large, round glassed eyes.

"You're excused, Tsukiyono-kun," the professor offered shakily. Omi nodded, sobbing in relief. He held his head up, forced to look around for his seat. Keiko waved at him gently, gesturing at the empty seat next to her. It was nice to have a customer who attended his college class. They had loads of sympathy for him on top off hearing the tragic tales of why some of the favorite employees were absent for a while and had casts or bandages.

Omi ran up to the teacher's desk, picking up a copy of the test before running up the stairs loudly. He threw himself into the seat, glancing up at the time. He had twenty minutes. There was no way he could past this test. It was ridiculous. Why didn't he try to do a make-up exam? Oh, yeah. This class doesn't do make-up exams, Omi worried, biting at his lip.

"I'm so screwed," Omi said breathlessly, breaking out in a sweat. He dug into his messy backpack, searching savagely for the scan-tron sheet that should be in there. Why did he have to be in such a hurry this morning? Omi grabbed his mechanical pencil, tapping out the lead frantically.

Omi scribbled his name down on the test, glancing at the top of the test. "An Introduction to the History of Japanese Government." Oh, the textbook test. Omi hadn't spent much time studying for it, figuring he could find the answers quickly enough in the book. How wrong I was! Geez, why didn't I study? Omi looked in his bag for the book he knew he threw in there. He had left it on the dresser so he would remember it!

"MY BOOK!" Omi yelped. He had forgotten it. The class turned around to him again, one girl giggling lightly at Omi's antics, numerous others smiling dreamily at him. It was a pain to be cute sometimes. What was he going to do? He was dead! Omi stared blankly at the top of the test. "In the year of 710 AD, which city became the first permanent capital?" He was dead.

"Omi!" Ken yelled into the classroom, screaming like he was going to rescue him from kidnappers. The door flew off the runner strip, falling loudly in a cloud of dust. Ken stared into the classroom, looking around desperately for Omi. Omi's eyebrow dropped as the straps on the helmet swayed. Ken had forgotten it was on his head.

Ken regained his posture in the midst of the sudden shock the class had fallen into again. Omi laughed nervously in the middle of it all, waving his hand at Ken guiltily. How could he explain the clothes Ken was wearing? He had left on those god-awful tight jeans that Yohji had ripped for work, the stupid idiot. He looked like he was trying to impress someone, the way the pants hugged his hips. That was probably because he was wearing such a ridiculously small, white tank top…

"That's my shirt!" Omi yelled out, angry and embarrassed that Ken was dressed liked that. Ken laughed guilty, flashing Omi a peace sign as he dragged the helmet off guiltily. One girl squealed in delight at Ken's appearance. Omi shot a quick glare over at the source of the sound. Ken was his boyfriend after all; though most of the class probably thought Omi was straight with the way the girls crowded him.

"Can I see Omi for a moment?" Ken asked, so honestly that it might be rude. Omi gaped at Ken. What was going on? Was something wrong with Aya-kun, again? Omi looked over to the teacher, wondering how he was ever going to excuse this. He would probably never get to take this test. He was going to fail the class!

"If it's important?" the professor asked questioningly, probably doubting Ken's exasperated state. Ken nodded, waving at Omi to come. Omi winced, standing up over his open backpack and test guiltily. Please, be it something not quite like death, but just as bad. That would be the only way to try and get excused for this test.

The professor nodded Omi bowed, excusing himself again as he ran down the steps. This is ridiculous! What was he supposed to do now? He ran up to the door, glancing down at the screen door Ken had broken. He couldn't believe his eyes that Ken had done that damage. He pushed Ken guiltily down the hall. Omi didn't want his classmates to see him yell at Ken.

"Omi, you forgot your book!" Ken explained breathlessly, holding up the textbook in his hands. Omi laughed, nervously dizzy with relief. He went to grab at the book, thinking of the time he had left. Ken dodged his hand, laughing naughtily. Omi bit back a scream. This was not happening right now!

"Don't I deserve a reward?" Ken asked, ever the lusty dog in the morning. Omi growled, grabbing again at the book. Ken grabbed at his arm, capturing Omi's elbow. Omi tried to jerk away. He had a test! How could Ken possibly be doing this right now? Ken dragged Omi into a janitor's closet, tugging open the doorknob and shoving Omi in before slamming the door shut.

Omi flicked on the light in severe irritation as Ken locked the door, panting a bit with smug aggression. Omi was going red in the face, he was so angry with Ken. He couldn't deal with this right now. I need to get back to class! Ken kept on leering; being selfish and confident because he knew Omi needed the book.

"Ken-kun, give me it now," Omi demanded, giving him one last chance. Ken grinned even larger, thinking it was he who was charge. Omi clamped his teeth together in a grin, smiling so big that his eyes closed. Ken laughed a bit with nervousness now, not exactly sure what response he had really evoked out of Omi.

"I have a test right now, you jerk!" Omi snapped, flicking open the buttons of Ken's jeans with efficiency. So, Ken just wanted sex like an old pervert? Well, he could get that stupid little bit of sex if Omi could get his book back and Ken out of his school! Ken held the text up, thinking that this might be a distraction for Omi to try and grab at the book.

Omi yanked the pants off Ken's hips, grinning in pride at what he was going to do. Ken would get what he deserved, the big pervert! Omi dropped to his knees in one motion, looking up at Ken from in front of the man's groin. Ken stared down, his mouth smiling open nervously, frozen in shock at what Omi was doing. Omi tugged at the opening of the boxers, effectively ripping open the slit of the boxers.

Omi put a hand under the base of Ken's balls, fearlessly getting to the point of the matters. Foreplay was a distant thing now, the watch on Omi's wrist painfully heavy. It wasn't surprising to get Ken stiff rather quickly. Ken seemed to like embarrassing situations, dragging Omi into one too many public spots. This was his school, his grade, and Ken didn't need to be here to mess it up!

Ken gasped at Omi's ministrations, the work of Omi's familiar fingers making a short manner of it all. Stroking up and down Ken's penis wasn't frighteningly new, except for the fact Omi looked like he might kill Ken at any moment. Ken's eyes were definitely frightened now, scared at Omi's temper. Ken hadn't seen Omi take control of their sex before, and was surprised enough to stay quiet.

Just because he was shorter, it didn't mean he have to give in every time! Omi was very skilled and could embarrass Ken about his own arousal. Omi was suddenly an expert at the hand jobs Ken had always used as an old teasing trick. The blonde licked the head swiftly, encompassing it in a swift motion.

Ken yelped as he became fully aroused in Omi's mouth, taking down into the throat in a manner so quickly it might have well been Omi's fist. He grabbed at something, the wall, taking a step back to try and find something to fall against. Omi took a knee-shuffle forward, forcing Ken further back over a rolling mop-bucket.

Ken tipped the empty bucket, spilling several mops to their side as he finally got his back against the wall. Omi put two hands on the walls, on either side of Ken's hips. He had Ken trapped, as assuredly as the brick wall behind him.

"Omi!" Ken gasped, not sure what he should do anymore as Omi kept his warm, velvety mouth right over his own cock. "Oh, shit!" Ken cursed, assuredly turned-on but trying to fight it. If someone heard the noises from a closet, they might suspect something.

Ken reached up, running his hands desperately in Omi's hair to try and force him to go at a more slowly, rhythmic beat. Omi bit down just a bit, nothing to really hurt but it stung enough to make Ken lay his palm back fearfully on the wall. Omi let his mouth relax again, rewarding Ken for being a punished, unruly child.

It didn't take more then a moment for Ken to come helplessly in Omi's mouth, unable to hold out under this kind of punishment. Omi smiled around the piece in his mouth swallowing it conceitedly. Wouldn't do to have something on his face when he went back to class.

Ken handed down the book in defeat as Omi released him, finally pulling his mouth away from his shrinking erection. Omi plucked the book up, patting Ken on the stomach like he was a good pet. Ken growled tiredly at Omi, upset that he had lost this little war. Omi just laughed and stood up, waving goodbye.

"Thanks for the book, Ken-kun," Omi murmured, kissing Ken on the cheek. Ken stayed against the wall in a bit of shock and residual arousal. Shit, he had never felt more in danger then in the last five seconds! Omi had Ken pinned against the wall, pissed off that Ken had charged in on the class. Ken was regretting ever trying to make a quick little make out.

"I'll think more often in the future," Ken apologized as Omi jogged away. The door was left open for Ken to slowly pull himself together. He couldn't believe it! God, he'd have to clean up the mops! What kind of man was he being? He had knocked equipment over heedlessly, unable to think of anything beyond Omi.

Ken stuffed himself back into the boxers, still moist from Omi's mouth. How embarrassing. He started going at the buttons, grumbling, as he had to tighten them painfully around his hips. Shaking his legs helped a bit, and he wriggled his bottom into the pants, gingerly closing them around his now-sensitive groin.

"Are you going to pick those up yet?" An old, gravelly voice asked impatiently. Ken didn't see anyone immediately, jerking his head around to find the voice. There was an impatient grunt and Ken glanced down at his waist. Before him was a small, elderly woman in a janitor's uniform, a baseball cap pulled down on a head of scraggily, puffy hair, pointing at the mess of mops that Ken had made. Ken giggled a bit, unable to stop the insane laughter at the irony of it all.

Meanwhile, Omi made it back to his class, marching in victoriously. He had gotten his book, and he was going to pass this test! Screw the next class! It was only a lecture! He could get the notes later! The students began to look up him, taking notice slowly. Without the door opening to alert them to someone coming in, not very many looked up from their tests. Someone grunted at his second, far messier entrance.

His friends looked up, several of them glancing to Omi's hair. He realized it must be a mess, with Ken pawing through the combed strands and sending them up in disarray. Omi scrubbed at his face with the back of his jacket uniform, trying to dry off some of sweat that had started to dry on his face. Someone in the class snickered, recognizing the telltale signs of someone fooling around.

Omi took his seat again, taking up his pencil with a calm determination. One had to be confident after beating Ken at his own game. He looked at the first question again, thumbing open his book to the back for a timeline. He could do this!

* * *

"…And then Ken-kun was given a citation for indecent exposure!" Omi laughed over washing the noodles, thinking it was all very funny. Yohji laughed too, thinking over Ken trying to explain himself to the police officer that was called on the scene. What luck to get the same guy who was giving you a parking ticket as well!

Aya grinned just a bit, more of a quick show of teeth in humor. He was cooking the thick red, meat sauce in the pan. Yohji and Ken had groaned at Aya's own personal recipe. That meant it wouldn't need any spicing up. Aya put enough pepper in the sauce to make one wince at the dry heat in their mouth. Yohji had learned the hard way, the burning numbness a painful reminder to not steal a taste again.

Yohji and Aya had opened up the shop that day after Aya had calmed down a bit. He was determined to work today, his attitude totally set that they would have the flower store open for at least several hours. Yohji hadn't even tried to arguing, recognizing Aya's face and backing off immediately.

When Ken came back from his mad dash to the school, he just said he dropped the book off but didn't explain why it had taken so long. Yohji could just guess what it was. Ken had this sudden swing toward the kinky, constant bouts of sexual pleasure with poor Omi. Yohji hoped Omi had slapped Ken good or something if he tried amateur shit like that.

All three of them had kept the shop open all day long, until Omi came back from school. The girls kept pouring in, excited that the place was open for a relatively long time now. They all were cheering and chatting happily as they bought up the entire stock of flowers. All they had left were a few out of season daisies and decorative ferns. Yohji had been on the phone all day long, grumpily reordering what was on the lists Aya handed him without a word. Yohji had been making orders all day long because of the redhead, ordered around like a slave.

Yohji hadn't even managed a few flirts. Aya just glared death at him when Yohji tried to put arm across Aya's back and rest a hand on his lower hip. Yohji just watched in mild surprise as Aya glowered up at him, sniffing down his nose at Yohji like he was some tasteless teenager. It was frustrating, to be put off so. And, it wasn't even like Aya was really scared or something.

Aya just thought the whole thing was irritating. It was kind of… warming to see Aya flick his chin up and pull away smoothly, like watching a statue suddenly pull away when Yohji felt the marble of it. Aya's skin was so addictively smooth, Yohji now knew. That little bit of skin that was showing above the top line of the jeans, peeking out under the hem of the shirt drove Yohji to distraction. It was only worse that Aya was wearing a thick, black studded belt, the large piece of leather only heightening the skinny jut of his hips.

The workday had been good, beyond that, Yohji managing to deal. It was hard to remain calm and emotionless as they worked through the day. He didn't want to have to back off Aya. Yohji wanted to be with Aya, there to help him and get some of that incredible sex again. Until then, he could be content with Aya-watching. He would have to be.

Yohji was hypnotized now again, his eyes dragged to the sway of Aya's waist as he strutted to the kitchen after taking a shower. Aya was dressed semi-formally, probably some of the nicest things he had. He was a practical dresser, never spending much money on designer clothes, but it was the way he made it look. Aya was fashionably fuckable, and Yohji couldn't help but think about getting Aya out of the shirt and in a room alone.

Aya wore a straight, white cotton shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows so he wouldn't get it stained as he cooked. He wore a pair of pressed black slacks, draping down over the top of the black house slippers. He even had a pair of black socks on now, not allowing that little bit of skin to show. A heavy black belt was visible over the drape of the tucked-in shirt, making sure that someone couldn't just brush their hands down the waist of the pants.

In fact, the only bit of skin Aya was showing was the small amount of throat and collarbone that was revealed every now and then. The shirt was buttoned up to the second-to last hole, allowing the sharp collar to sag away from his neck a bit. It didn't look so stiff and rigid as Aya had been in the past days, refusing to allow even the smallest hint of skin. Aya had even been wearing longer sleeved shirts to hide his fingers in the beginning.

Aya glanced up out of the corner of his eyes, the clean and combed hair curling into his face. Yohji blinked away from those black eyelashes, drawn into fine detail again. He just loved to look at Aya, watch Aya move about in normal activities. Something about the mundane was incredibly sexy with Aya. Maybe Yohji's brain had just been alerted to how satisfying Aya could be in bed.

Now that he had had a taste, Yohji was painfully craving more. But, he knew he couldn't force it on Aya. He'd have to wait now, prowling around the sides of Aya's personal space like a tomcat. Yohji wanted Aya even more desperately now, now that he knew what Aya was like in bed.

Plenty of promise, there. Even despite the hesitation and whole slow way of it, Aya had been more then what Yohji expected. He would have never thought he would actually hear Aya's moans echoing in his head. Because Yohji had managed to make Aya open his mouth and breathe out huskily in pleasure. Yohji didn't care how it happened; he just wanted to hear Aya make those noises again.

They had all started to help Aya out with cooking dinner to welcome his sister home with. Omi had been ecstatic that Aya-chan was coming for a visit so soon, thinking that it was the loving bond between siblings that was bringing Aya-chan back so quickly. Yohji couldn't tell the kid that it was because Aya-chan was a stark, raving spoiled princess.

Yohji glanced away from Omi as Aya came close to the boy, reaching over to take the noodles to the stovetop. The thin, black apron sagged a bit on Aya's chest. How come nobody else was noticing how fucking hot Aya was just by cooking? Yohji felt like it was crime, too look that damn good. Maybe it was all in his own head, too.

Yohji scratched his face, thinking hard about it. You've got it bad, man, Yohji berated himself. No one was going to compare to having sex with Aya. Yohji wasn't going to be able to forget that night. He couldn't sleep, holding Aya as the red head slept over his arm. Aya had chosen to put Yohji's arm under his neck as a pillow, his mouth open in his exhausted rest. Yohji had been content to stay there forever, the morning sun not reaching his window yet, and the shadows of the building making it dark on the icy, snow-covered landscape.

"Mmm… hungry," Aya had refused tiredly when Yohji put a hand on his rump to wake Aya up. Yohji knew that Omi wouldn't have time to cook this morning, so he decided to rouse Aya up by insistently tugging the man out of the bed, one limb at a time. Yohji had to promise Aya he'd make the best breakfast in the history of mankind to get the guy waken up.

Yohji had surprised the shit out of them all with his cooking skills, he knew. Just because he never had cooked before didn't mean he was incompetent. Aya was showing all of them up this evening, however. Aya's cooking was excellent, with a kind of ruthless perfection about it. Just like he got all determined when he fought, Aya was good at the culinary, precise in everything he did.

"Aya-chan should be here any minute. I can't wait to see the boyfriend, he's probably the nicest geeky guy in the world," Ken speculated excitedly from the kitchen table. He had finished setting it, spreading out the tablecloth Aya had demanded they use, all pressed and shimmering white via Omi. Ken started to take out the good silverware from the top cabinet. Aya had ordered them to use the finest, assuring Aya-chan's dinner would be perfect.

Yohji couldn't figure out why Aya was being so nice, preparing everything for his sister. Yohji would prefer Aya tell cute little Aya-chan to fuck off and eat at the airport or on the way to the building. Yohji wanted Aya to himself tonight. He wanted to work at it again, a little more carefully this time, having a better knowledge of what Aya would be scared of. He had been caught up in the moment, for sure, but he had recorded every little detail of the sex in his mind, so he could list what had been good for Aya.

Then again, he wanted so badly to hear Aya say it was all right. He was praying, praying that he had been good enough to show Aya what love could be like. He didn't want to have pushed Aya away, losing out on the pleasure Yohji was going mad with. Yohji didn't want to have frightened Aya. He had wanted to impress the hell out of Aya, so he could see how good it could be.

Aya threw the spaghetti noodles into the boiling pot of water he had been nursing while Omi got them ready. He had taken charge of cooking, Aya being the only one who could make everything properly and to his tastes. He assigned them all small jobs, having Ken set the table, Omi helping out since he had a meager amount of helpfulness. Yohji had been cleaning up the living room, 'requested' by Aya. He felt like it was some kind of grudging punishment dished out by Aya.

By the time Aya-chan was supposed to arrive, Aya had dished out the spaghetti onto a serving bowl. He had also mixed the salad perfectly, a small garnish on top that Yohji only saw when he went to the really nice places. The Italian garlic bread was to the side, homemade by Aya. A bottle of wine was set on the counter in a bucket of ice, over a decorative towel to soak up any of the condensation. Even when Aya was making things this elegant, he didn't want to do any water damage to the wood surface.

Yohji was starting to wonder why he never got any of this kind of treatment. Assuredly, he hadn't been with Aya really long at all, but he had done a hell of a lot of work. Couldn't that be appreciated? Instead, Aya was showing off this flair for throwing a dinner party that nobody ever even expected. Yet, it made perfect sense that Aya would be totally proficient in this. Why not? He was coldly excellent in everything else.

Aya took off the apron, hanging it on the hook on the wall. He unrolled his sleeves, flicking out the small little folds in his shirt and re-buttoning the cuffs. Aya left the sleeves down over his knuckles, covering himself again. He was probably getting self-conscious, now that it was his sister he was facing. Yohji wondered if Aya might tell Aya-chan what he had been doing. Aya had a sense of honor and duty like that.

Like it was his fault anyways. Little bitch, had she been asking for money or something? Yohji couldn't believe the amount Aya had been sending in the mail, everything carefully recorded and accounted for on paper. Aya had shown Yohji the budget, totaling somewhere in the thousands. Yohji had been floored at the paycheck.

How many jobs did this mean Aya did? Yohji couldn't calculate, not sure of how much Aya had charged. God, please be some ridiculously high amount. He didn't want to hear that Aya had been at an easy-going rate. Yohji didn't want to know the exact number of jobs Aya had done, yet he couldn't stop thinking about it.

They all sat down awkwardly, slowly becoming bored of standing around. The food was slowly stopping to steam, beginning to cool down. They all began to watch Aya carefully, waiting for a reaction. Aya was waiting for Aya-chan's arrival, dangerously still and tense.

"Maybe... She's caught up in traffic," Omi said thoughtfully, putting a hand under his chin. It was getting to be twenty minutes late. Yohji wondered if he could pop the wine now. They could forgive starting to drink a little bit early.

"We should cover this stuff up, or keep it hot," Ken pointed out, rising out of his chair to start saving the food. Aya looked up sharply, pinning Ken with his gaze. Yohji leaned back a bit, sighing at the angry face Aya had on.

"No. She's coming," Aya made it sound like a known fact. Yohji was ready to step out for a cigarette. It was going to be a while, and the smell of food was starting to get annoying, teasing Yohji's empty stomach. He felt like he was going to be sick if they didn't start to eat soon. He needed a smoke.

"Okay, whatever you say," Yohji agreed lazily, waving his hand at Aya. Aya glared at him, his back tightened up offensively. Like Yohji had insulted his pride. Aya-chan being late was a reflection on himself as a brother. Aya was always prompt, arriving exactly five minutes before hand just in case.

"She's going to be late, either way," Ken reasoned, shrugging. Aya slammed an open hand down on the table, forcing Ken to jump. He tossed his head, taking a deep breath like he was trying very hard to not yell at them. All of them froze; waiting for the outburst they knew was coming.

The doorbell rang, the bells effectively killing the mood. Omi jumped up, running to the door with a bright "Coming!" Ken followed Omi, pushing his chair in before he left. Yohji stood up, waiting for Aya to set his napkin on the table and get up. Aya blew past Yohji, effectively stomping while not even slamming his feet down. It was like watching a wet cat walk by. Aya was pissed, embarrassed, and nervous all at the same time. It made Yohji's head spin.

"Aya-chan!" Omi greeted happily from the doorway. Aya-chan laughed, dropping two large suitcases on the front porch in a gasp of exhaustion. She was wearing a pair of tight, black leather pants hitting her pair of snake-skinned, high-heeled sandals. She was wearing a white silk blouse that just looked weird on her. Yohji didn't think expensive clothes fit Aya-chan. They just weren't right on her, her face and body not fitting the outfit like it should.

"Ran! Brother!" Aya squealed happily, running through the door and wrapping her arms around Aya's neck. Yohji jumped back, surprised by her sudden affection. Aya gasped, lifting up his hands to push her away in a panic. Aya-chan was too quick, jumping away obliviously to hug Yohji. She missed Aya's shove by a mere second.

Yohji looked down at the young girl in his arms, her laughter still the same as he remembered. Then, what had been that on the television? Yohji didn't understand it. He looked over, noticing Aya was shuddering. Aya put one hand on his shoulder, holding his arm across his chest defensively.

"Ken, Omi, how are you two doing? You've been healthy?" Aya-chan asked, her back already turned to them. It was really a shame that she was missing out on seeing her brother work through a panic attack. Yohji glared at her, angry that she had sparked the fit as Aya's eyes clenched closed, his jaw flexing as he tried to remain silent. Yohji looked away, knowing Aya would kill him if Yohji brought attention to him.

Aya didn't want comfort. Yohji wanted to hold him, protect him against his own sister. Aya-chan walked back out the door between Ken and Omi's stunned faces, taking decisive steps in such thin, tall heels. Aya shook his head behind Yohji, bringing himself out of his sudden, irrational terror.

"Baby, come in here!" Aya-chan ordered sweetly, waving out the door. Aya's attention was immediately focused, moving over to the entranceway. Yohji waited, Aya started to lean on the wall in a lazily, defensive way. He wasn't pleased to see a second man in his sister's life. Aya-chan reappeared, coming back into the hallway with a smile.

"And this is Sebastian," Aya-chan introduced her boyfriend. A man came in behind her, carrying two large suitcases. He smiled, perfect, straight white teeth flashing. The man was beautiful in a sick way. He had a wild mass of dark, brown hair; a few dyed, blonde strands lacing through the curly hair. His face was very chiseled, his cheeks strong and straight above a firm, square jaw. Sebastian was muscled and trim, as tall as Yohji. He was wearing a black, leather jacket and a pair of tight white jeans, the knee artfully ripped.

"Hey, mate," Sebastian greeted in an English accent. He held out his hand to shake and Yohji glanced down at it like he had offered a piece of trash. Yohji hated him already. Probably didn't know a word of Japanese and didn't care. He was annoying. Yohji could already tell his personality was egotistical and arrogant. Yohji wanted to punch him in the face.

"We still have some luggage in the cab, mate. You want to get it for me?" Sebastian asked Yohji in English. Yohji tilted his head, pulling out his cigarettes. He tapped one stick out as Sebastian started to blink, realizing that Yohji wasn't going to go fetch the luggage. I'm not a serving boy. I wasn't introduced as 'Bitch' to you. Yohji growled in his mind.

"I don't know your language," Yohji lied in Japanese, lighting up in the man's face. Sebastian's handsome features wrinkled up away from the smoke, waving his hand to get rid of the burning tobacco. The man could ask in the native language. Rude little prick. Sebastian had neglected to learn even a bare amount of Japanese when he came to the country. What did Aya-chan see in him?

"Oh, Christ, I'll get it," Ken snapped, stomping around Yohji. Omi followed, not about to leave Ken alone to do something by himself. Aya-chan smiled at Yohji and he smiled back at her. He wanted to choke them all. It was uncomfortable, it was painful, and they all knew it. Aya shifted to his other foot, bringing all three's attention to him.

"Aya-baby, you didn't tell me you had an older sister as well," Sebastian drawled, sidling up to Aya like he was dream date. One hand hit the wall to the side of Aya's head and Sebastian's body covered Aya's thinner body with his own muscled bulk. Aya's eyes went wide, angry, glaring up at the boyfriend. Sebastian put his other hand on Aya's hip like he had the right to touch him, smirking at Aya's obvious reaction to his charms.

"You know, maybe we should go to dinner some time. I'd like to hear about having a little terror like Aya-chan for a sister," Sebastian whispered, so low that Yohji almost didn't hear him. Aya-chan laughed, totally undisturbed by the fact her boyfriend was hitting up on her older brother. Sebastian didn't know how close he was to death right now. The man smiled into Aya's scared, white face, so close that their lips were almost touching.

"Or maybe we should just forget the dinner?" Sebastian whispered. Oh, shit. Yohji was going to rip the man's arms off and beat him with them. Forget the fact this was Aya-chan's boyfriend. This asshole was scaring Aya, pushing forward on ground that he had no right to walk on. Sebastian didn't know what Aya had been through, and he didn't care.

"Back off!" Yohji snarled, stepping forward. Aya was faster, punching Sebastian in the sternum. The boyfriend hunched over to clutch at his sides, gasping like a fish out of water. Aya-chan yelped in surprise as Sebastian fell to his knees in front of Aya, coughing.

"Bloody hell! What was that for?" Sebastian snarled, moaning at the pain. What a pathetic person this boyfriend was. He was out of commission by that one, small hit. Aya should have punched him harder. Aya was staring down at him, his face not betraying a single emotion. But the way his eyes narrowed, the way the corner of his mouth went hard told Yohji everything. He was scared, he was frightened. Aya had been reminded of something. Yohji wanted to kill Sebastian.

"Don't touch me," Aya ordered in a very male voice. Yohji wanted to kick Sebastian to back up those words. He was proud of Aya for telling Sebastian off. Yohji moved closer, stepping between Aya and Sebastian. Aya-chan knelt next to her boyfriend, petting him on the arm.

"God, you're a mate?" Sebastian asked incredulously, his voice squeaking at the end. Sebastian didn't seem to believe that Aya was a man. Yohji glared down at the bastard. Aya moved out from behind Yohji, going to the door as Ken and Omi returned, a suitcase in each of their hands.

"That's my brother, Ran," Aya-chan explained, rubbing Sebastian's arms. Sebastian coughed, then looked up at Aya in bewilderment, his mouth open like a fish's. Aya glared down at him from the other side of the entrance hall. He had put a safe distance between him and Sebastian, though to anyone else it probably looked like Aya couldn't stand to be in the same room with the man. To Yohji, it looked like Aya wanted to run far away.

"What happened here?" Ken yelled, dropping one suitcase on the ground. Aya-chan turned, glaring at the luggage. Apparently, nobody had ever dropped a suitcase in shock before, especially when it belonged to Aya-chan. It was ridiculous. Aya-chan didn't have any fragile items in there beyond clothes.

"Brother?! That's a man, for reals now?" Sebastian cried out, looking to everyone's faces for some kind of denial. Yohji was going to kick him in those perfect, white teeth. Bastard. How dare he call Aya a woman! Aya had more strength in him then any man could ever manage. Aya had more beauty then any woman could ever pray for, too. Yohji sneered down at Sebastian. The idiot didn't have a chance in hell with Aya.

"Who… Who's hungry?" Omi stuttered, trying to save the conversation. Everyone turned on the poor boy as he sat down the luggage, smiling obliviously. Ken put an arm around Omi's shoulders, ruffling up the hair despite Omi's protestations.

"We all know I am!" Ken agreed. Yohji knew that was a load of bull. Everyone was silent, looking at each other. Sebastian stood up, brushing off Aya-chan's hands and straightening his clothes.

"Whatever. What a rude stiff," Sebastian snapped, looking Aya up and down in a measuring way. Like he was figuring out where he wanted to put his hands on Aya. Ken and Sebastian picked up the suitcases, Omi taking two while Aya-chan helped with a smaller, light bag. Yohji and Aya watched as the group caravanned upstairs, Omi showing their guests to Aya's room.

"You okay?" Yohji whispered, leaning in close to Aya's hair. He could smell the harsh, clean scent of Aya's soap. Aya nodded, lifting up one hand to Yohji's lips without looking. He plucked the cigarette out of Yohji's mouth and took it to the door, pinching it with mild disgust.

"Don't smoke," Aya ordered. "Not around Aya-chan." What, concerned for her health? That was more then Aya-chan had every thought for him, off in Africa. She was too busy falling in love and living off Aya's prostitution money without a care in the world. Why couldn't Yohji give her a little second hand smoke?

"Drink?" Yohji asked, thinking back to the lonely wine in the kitchen. Aya nodded, obviously desperate to get drunk as quickly as possible. They both paced back to the kitchen together, not really needed to say anything to each other. Aya swept two wineglasses off the table as Yohji grabbed the bottle out of the ice bin, snatching up the corkscrew.

He popped it out with reasonable efficiency; smirking at Aya when he held it professionally, ready to pour before Aya had the glasses on the counter. Yohji could damn well open a bottle of wine, proving Aya wrong from that night before. Aya looked at Yohji steadily, not even giving him the gratification of a sneer. Yohji felt young in front of Aya, his antics not touching that cold, sophisticated heart that Aya had buried away.

"You wanna toast?" Yohji asked, pouring the glasses evenly. Aya shook his head. He didn't like to talk, didn't like to express what he was feeling. Aya was nervous in front of Yohji now, skittish about the conversation leading to sex. That was probably all that was Aya's mind now.

"To you being a silent son of a bitch," Yohji granted, taking a long sip of his own glass. That made Aya glare over the shine of his own glass, his eyes narrowing in offence. Yohji still could get to him, no matter how crude it was. Aya drained his cup, pulling it away rapidly as he listened to the steps upstairs. Even when he was trying to get belligerent, Aya was still sharp and cold about it. He didn't want to be seen drinking this quickly.

"You might empty the bottle," Yohji warned when Aya poured them a second glass. Yohji's throat burned from the sweetness of the white wine. Aya-chan's favorite, Yohji's personal revulsion. But, Aya was taking it back like it was nothing, and Yohji would be damned if he was left behind. Aya shrugged, taking a first sip of his next serving.

"There's another bottle in the refrigerator in case. Take it out for me," Aya demanded, turning back to his glass. Aya wasn't nursing it at all, swallowing the wine like it was water. It made Yohji kind of queasy, but he couldn't turn away from the curve of Aya's neck as the man took it down.

"Why should I?" Yohji speculated, not about to anything for free. It wasn't like he had been of any big help cooking dinner, but he had gotten fed up of being ordered around tonight. One should start to be paid for one's services.

"Oh, fuck you," Aya snapped, setting down the empty glass sharply. There was an explosive giggle from upstairs, Omi and Aya-chan's laughter mixing. Aya looked up at the roof, calculating how much time he had.

"Whatever. Get it out by yourself," Yohji shrugged, pouring himself another glass languidly, knowing Aya was pissed he wasn't pouring the redhead a drink. Yohji started to sip at his next glass, a bit dizzy by now but not about to fall into a drunken haze. It would take fare more then this to get Yohji smashed.

Aya took several quick steps forward, suddenly pulling the zipper on Yohji's pants. Yohji spat into his glass, surprised at Aya's unexpected caress solidly on the top of his balls, right over the slit of the briefs. Yohji couldn't help but shrug and tense at the touch, a bit too close to home for what Yohji wanted so desperately.

Aya reached up with his hands, swiftly taking Yohji's glass away from his face and brushing Yohji's arm away. Yohji blinked, not sure if he was too drunk to black out by now. He must be. This wasn't real. Aya just… wasn't like this. Not so distant, not so professional.

Aya kissed Yohji on the lips, not wasting any time about the manner. Yohji wondered if he might have pushed Aya too far to quickly, sending him into a kind of 'mission' mode. Aya pulled away, slowly falling onto Yohji's chest and hugging him loosely around the shoulder, resting his head on Yohji's throat. Yohji's chin was forced up under Aya's hair, a breath warm and hot on Yohji's collar.

"What do you think of her? Yohji? Is she… Is she still my sister?" Aya asked hesitantly. Yohji sighed, a bit in relief as he allowed himself to put his hands on Aya's back, pulling him close. Aya wasn't being 'professional' about this. Aya was nervous as all hell about his sister. It wasn't a fear of Yohji that was on the redhead's mind.

"I don't know. I don't like that Sebastian guy, though. I think he's a problem," Yohji said honestly, hugging Aya tightly. He wouldn't let go for a while, at least, for as long as he could. Until Aya-chan showed up and he'd be forced to let go of Aya.

I don't want Aya-chan to see us. I don't want to scare her, or… something. Aya's words echoed in Yohji's mind. Aya had given Yohji a talk, privately when they went on break that day. Aya didn't want Aya-chan to see that her brother was a homosexual. Aya didn't want to his only sister to know that her brother was a prostitute.

"I don't want to sleep together. I'll take the couch," Aya had insisted, looking away from Yohji's face. Yohji sighed, knowing that he wouldn't be able to argue with Aya. He wondered if Aya could do it? Aya might get scared, alone in a big, unfamiliar room.

"Fine. Fine, damn it," Yohji swore, wanting very much to argue with Aya but knowing that he couldn't. He would love to; he would want to insist that he wanted to sleep with Aya. He didn't want to be separated from Aya's bed so soon after having sex. He had worked so hard to get there, in between the sheets with the human icicle. It made him wonder if it was more because Aya didn't want to sleep with Yohji, scared that he might take advantage? So much for that trust he had built up. He needed to assure Aya it would be all right, and that would be to demonstrate the normal, comforting sleeping pattern.

Besides, Yohji like holding Aya at night. He didn't fall asleep until after Aya, content to stay awake and admire Aya in his relaxed, dozing state. Aya's face was so much softer, much more innocent and beautiful then when he forced his eyes into a glare. Aya was beautiful either way, but Yohji did like to study a motionless subject. He didn't get yelled at as much like this.

So, when he heard Aya-chan's voice from the stairwell, he pushed Aya away. He wanted to hold him for much longer, hell, drag that man outside the door and hug him to death on the porch. It hurt to let go of your favorite things. Aya-chan walked into the kitchen, one hand on Sebastian's arm.

"Didn't you start to warm it up, chap? We don't want cold food, now do we," Sebastian laughed, making the order into a joke. Yohji shook his head in a mockery of stupidity. He had no idea what this white guy was saying. Aya rolled his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching up in a smile despite his irritation with Yohji.

"Oh, Sebastian, don't be so terrible!" Aya-chan admonished, slapping him on the arm lightly. Like she was striking a puppy. Ken and Omi came in afterwards, sighing at having to carry up most of the luggage. Poor boys. Those two had just turned into human slaves for the happy couple.

"Sebastian-kun is right, we should start to warm it up," Omi agreed, even though they had painfully set up the displayed food. Ken reached down to pick up the platter, ready to help out.

"Don't! I'll do it, you all can sit down and start the salad," Aya ordered suddenly, not wanting anything to ruin his sister's dinner. Aya didn't mind not eating; to prepare the food he had already painstaking cooked to perfection again. Yohji minded a lot that Aya was going to turn himself into a martyr yet again.

"I'll help," Yohji agreed, not looking to Aya for an okay. "You all start without us, don't worry. I don't like the veggie stuff anyways," Yohji told Ken, while looking at Sebastian the whole time. The pretty boy stopped for a moment, looking at Yohji suspiciously as Omi and Ken took their seats. Those two knew not to argue with Aya, just deciding to give in and make things easier.

"What's he saying about me?" Sebastian demanded of Aya-chan as she led him to the seat. Aya took the spaghetti and the meat sauce away in both hands, while Yohji started the oven again to warm up the bread.

"Oh, honey, he wasn't saying anything, don't be so rude," Aya-chan cheerfully assured him. Yohji sighed as Sebastian took his seat, shooting a look of distaste at Yohji. What a little prick. Omi served Ken up a healthy portion, giving his own plate a little less. Aya-chan began to explain the documentary they were going to film of poverty in Africa. Yohji took the bread from the table and put it into the warming oven, figuring a quick bit of time would heat it up soon enough. He danced around Aya's busy form, trying to stay out of the redhead's way as he stomped around the kitchen. Aya checked on the oven, not expecting Yohji to be able to do it right.

"Fly," Aya hissed, close to Yohji's ear. The way he was standing by the counter now made Aya's body a perfect cover, blocking Yohji from the table's sight. Yohji looked down. Oh, fuck. He zipped up the pants in a frantic, quick motion. He had forgotten, just blown away by Aya's actions.

"Did anyone notice?" Yohji asked, wondering if he could, with enough luck, hide this from them. Aya shook his head, going back to the stovetop to check the warming main dish. Yohji watched Aya's hips as the man turned away, kind of… touched that Aya cared enough to warn him. Aya didn't usually help anyone out, allowing them to clean up their own messes.

"Thanks," Yohji nodded across the kitchen. Aya shook his head, not even turning around to face Yohji. It wasn't important to him; it was just Aya didn't want Aya-chan to see a guy swaggering around with his underwear showing. The redhead tossed the noodles, taking a moment to stir the meat sauce.

"Oh, they're so good together!" Aya-chan exclaimed from the table. Yohji turned around in shock, Aya freezing up on the stove. Aya-chan looked over at them in confusion, Omi raising an eyebrow. He had been telling them about their dear Oba-chan getting married to the old mailman who had been coming around recently. Omi went back to serving everyone something to drink, the table relaxing expect for one.

"What's wrong with them?" Sebastian sneered from the table, pointing over at Aya. Yohji could swear that the jerk was point at Aya's ass. Yohji felt a vein pop on his forehead. The only reason he stayed in place was because Aya grabbed a fistful of his shirt before Yohji could take off.

"Yohji, get the bread, will you?" Aya demanded in a threatening tone of voice. Yohji went over the oven, glaring at Sebastian the whole time. The guy didn't lower his finger, letting it stay on Aya like a fucking pair of hands. Yohji jerked the door open, tugging on the oven mitts violently.

"Sure thing," Yohji hissed, taking the bread out. Sebastian smiled up at Yohji, right over Aya-chan's head as she continued to give the details about the documentary, how much money they were going to bring in. Yohji wondered just how much of it would go to the charity.

"Oh, Ran, dear, would mind hurrying that up? Some of us are hungry," Sebastian sang out, ordering Aya around with his real name. Sebastian made it sound like a slur. Yohji slammed the bread down on the table next to the man, making him jump away and look up the arm to Yohji's angry face.

"Omi, why don't you serve?" Yohji made it sound like a curse, looking down over his nose at Sebastian. Omi nodded, more then happy to start a serving of Italian bread. Sebastian looked over at Aya-chan, nodding toward Yohji.

"What did he say?" Sebastian demanded sharply, looking away from Yohji. Aya was stiff over the food, his jaw jumping as he stirred the pans.

"He told you to stop pointing at Aya!" Ken growled in English, his hands out for the bread as Omi finished cutting the loaf. Sebastian looked to Ken's face, confused that Ken had caught on. Yohji was kind of relieved that it hadn't been just him.

"I'm not pointing at Aya," Sebastian argued, thumbing toward Aya-chan on his right. He didn't know that Aya had never given them his real name. They all knew it, read it in mission reports and some articles about the bombing of the Fujimiya household and office building. That didn't mean they used it for Aya. Ran was a person Aya had left behind long ago.

"Just leave it," Aya told Ken, coming back with the serving platter full of steaming spaghetti. Ken took it, passing it around the table to serve people, Omi taking the meat sauce to follow. Aya took a seat by Aya-chan, away from Sebastian. Yohji got the pleasure of sitting between Sebastian and Omi.

Aya-chan was the source of most of the conversation that night. It was more because nobody else could even get a word in, not even cute little Omi. Sebastian thought Aya-chan was adorable and was all over her, putting an arm over her shoulder. Ken and Omi ate in silence, trying to add something to the conversation but being cut off by either one of the couple.

Yohji picked at his own food, more interested in watching Aya. The man wasn't touching his food, everything in the exact same place it was when he first set the plate down. Aya's eyes were closed, his lips a straight hard line. There was no emotion, but Yohji saw a bead of sweat form on Aya's lips, the man licking it away nervously. That was not what Aya did.

"Stop it, baby," Aya-chan giggled, shoving Sebastian's legs away from her own under the table. Aya stiffened, in what might have even been relief. He hadn't said anything all night long, which was bad, even for Aya. Sebastian just smiled and a laughed, moving in his seat to obviously throw on leg over Aya-chan's lap, even though they were under the table.

"Come on, I love you!" Sebastian drawled, taking a bite of the spaghetti. "This isn't half bad, Ran. I thought you'd be an awful cook!" Yohji dropped his fork on the table, the silverware clanging loudly before it dropped on the floor. Aya's eyes opened up, looking at Yohji in a sort of terror that was barely recognizable.

"Sorry," Yohji apologized slowly, bending over to pick up the fork. He looked under the table, seeing what might be going on in the dark tent the tablecloth did. Sebastian's leg was thrown over Aya-chan's lap, but that was only half of it. He was using Aya-chan's lap as a resting spot for his knee.

Sebastian had his foot in Aya's groin, teasing and poking with his sock-covered toes. Aya had his legs open, bearing it silently. He was probably used to something worse then this. Aya didn't want to say anything to bring attention to it. He didn't want to alert Aya-chan to this, because it was so close to the subject Aya was trying to avoid. That he was a prostitute. Aya would bite his own tongue off before he allowed the secret out.

Yohji reached out slowly, around Aya-chan's legs. He had the fork in one hand. He stabbed the prongs into Sebastian's toes hard enough to cause pain, but not wound. Sebastian screamed, falling out of his chair as he threw himself back. Aya-chan yelped as Yohji dropped the fork again, away from Sebastian's side of the table.

"Oh, shit! That rat was huge!" Yohji cursed, jumping up. Ken looked under the table immediately. They had a problem with rats a long time ago. It was enough to make the story seem a bit believable. Yohji could deny if Sebastian tried to accuse him of anything.

"What? What was it?" Sebastian demanded as Aya-chan tried to reassure him it had only been a rat. Aya was the only one to remain sitting, looking at Yohji in suspiciousness, but not saying a word. Sebastian stood back up, righting his chair and sitting again, much more mindful of his feet now.

"Oh, Ran, are you all right? You've gone all pale," Aya-chan asked, glancing over at Aya's stricken face. Sebastian smirked, obviously curious as to what lie Aya would make. Aya shook his head, smiling weakly at his sister. It looked like he might be sick.

"I'm fine. I'm alright," Aya insisted, saying something for the first time since they started to eat. Yohji wished Aya would have been honest, and pinned the bastard in his seat. Yohji knew he wouldn't be able to get away with that. So, why was Aya letting Sebastian, this low-life lover boy that Aya-chan had taken on?

The dinner continued on in a painful manner, everyone making the politest conversation possible. Aya was a dark, silent cloud, watching everyone's words, making sure that they were appropriate for his sister's dinner conversation. It was hard to talk around. They couldn't really say what they had been up to the past month.

"Well, that was wonderful," Aya-chan thanked her brother and Yohji. Sebastian shrugged, not offering his fine culinary critique. It made Yohji want to slap the man. Aya was bearing it all in a silent manner, the perfect, unresisting target for Sebastian's overt teases. He was probably still pissed Aya had stopped his crude advances with one solid punch. Stupid European bastard. Yohji didn't like him, pure and simple.

"Ken-kun and I will clean up, if that's alright? Aya-kun?" Omi asked, picking up his own dirty plate. Aya glanced up from the hole he was trying to burn into the table with his eyes. He nodded, agreeing without much of an argument.

"Yohji-kun, why don't you go to bed? You had such a late night yesterday," Omi said in concern. Yohji knew what he was trying to say. Why don't you get Aya in a bed? Yohji looked down at the redhead, the man wobbling a bit in the chair. He had managed to get himself rather drunk in a polite manner while at the dinner table.

"Sure. Hey, Aya, I could use a tuck-in," Yohji begged from the counter. Aya sighed at it, but didn't say anything. Sebastian snorted, chuckling that Yohji had been blocked just like he had. Aya switched the glare to the boyfriend, suddenly jumping up, straight as a board.

"Are you finished?" Aya demanded of Yohji, making it all sound very usual and irritating. Sebastian growled, jealous that Yohji was getting a walk upstairs. He turned into Aya-chan's hair, kissing her on the temple almost territorially, like he had her staked out and that was more then Yohji could do.

Yohji didn't really care. He was just glad Sebastian had done it to Aya's back as they went up the stairs. Yohji didn't want to see Aya's reaction to a boyfriend making out with his little sister. He herded Aya up the stairs, taking the steps quickly so Aya was forced to stomp up them rapidly if he wanted to avoid being touched.

"I could tuck you in, if you want?" Yohji was grinning at the idea of pulling the covers across Aya, like father tucking in the sleepy son. Aya was weaving dangerously, putting a hand across the wall so he could navigate the hall. Yohji watched as Aya paused, taking a moment to find his balance before glowering at Yohji.

"You're not staying," Aya stated, making it sound like a death threat. Yohji could read it in Aya's eyes. Don't get any ideas, because you and I are not fucking. Yohji sighed, putting a hand in his pocket as they went into his room. Rules, rules, rules.

"Well, can I just stay for a while?" Yohji demanded innocently, locking the door behind him. Wouldn't do to have visitors, if Yohji got lucky by some miracle. Aya didn't like that suggestion much, his eyes getting dark. He didn't like Yohji in his room at all right now.

"Fine. Fine, whatever to make you get out," Aya surrendered, like it was the most anyone had ever asked of him before. Yohji smirked. He had a chance now! He flexed his fingers, cracking out the loose knuckles. Aya raised an eyebrow, wondering what Yohji could possibly be thinking of doing? He just winked mischievously at Aya, watching as his eyes widened at Yohji. He probably looked like a fox outside a chicken coup.

"I'm getting ready for bed," Aya growled. Yohji nodded, going over to the dresser and digging through the top drawer. He found a smaller, older t-shirt that Aya could use, one that might actually fit him. Aya glared as Yohji took out the pajamas without a single request for permission.

"You're not sleeping here," Aya said one more time, much more strongly now. Yohji nodded, ignoring the fact that this was still his room. Aya had taken control of it relatively easy, Yohji too scared to push him out. He didn't expect to get invited unless Yohji showed that he was still the same person. Yohji didn't want Aya to be frightened of him now because they had sex. Yohji didn't want to be thrown out of Aya's bed like this.

Aya finally shrugged, sitting down uneasily on the edge of the mattress. He watched as Yohji took off his own shirt, pulling a white tank top on for sleeping. He took off his own pants, settling into a pair of loose boxers. He didn't usually sleep clothed. The only reason he wore anything was for Aya's benefit.

Aya held himself up straight as Yohji smiled, putting a hand down on the mattress. Yohji slid next to Aya on the mattress, letting his chin drop on Aya's shoulder. Aya looked down at Yohji in a mix of disgust and terror out of the corner of his eye. Yohji put an arm loosely around Aya's chest, hugging him softly.

"Oh my honor, won't do anything," Yohji promised. Aya nodded slowly, taking his time to accept Yohji's words. Aya did believe Yohji's pledge to leave later. They wouldn't sleep together if Aya truly wished Aya-chan not to know. Yohji would uphold his word.

"You all right? With Sebastian?" Yohji asked. Aya stiffened, the shoulder stiffening under Yohji's chin. He didn't expect Yohji to bring up the boyfriend so soon. Yohji waited, not drawing away, but remaining until Aya relaxed again. Aya gently started to unbutton his shirt, getting ready to change in front of Yohji. It warmed a man's heart to see Aya trust him enough to get half-naked in his presence after sex.

"I'm fine, it wasn't anything big," Aya lied, his hands going down his shirt as he unbuttoned it. Yohji knew he was lying, lying badly. Aya wouldn't even meet his eyes, looking down at his hands in a sort of embarrassed focus. Yohji nodded, having to take Aya's answer. He wouldn't pry any further unless Aya wanted him to.

"Okay, okay. Well, I think there's a big problem with that jerk," Yohji informed Aya, just incase he had missed it. Aya nodded, starting to pull the shirt apart. Yohji put his hands on Aya's shoulders, over the fabric. He didn't know if he could have bare hands on Aya's flesh yet.

"He was rude at dinner, he's totally below Aya-chan," Yohji quipped as he began to massage Aya's neck. Yohji felt like he was saying everything Aya should be saying. Aya was her brother, after all. Yohji was just trying to drive the guy away. He didn't like what he had been doing to Aya. Aya tried to open his mouth to argue something, but Yohji apparently dug his thumb into the right place.

"Aya-chan is bet… Oh… -ter… Better then him," Aya agreed, trying to sound like he was still coherent. Aya was slightly drunk and tired, and Yohji was working out the tensed, sore muscles Aya had developed over dinner. He was a true stiff, literally and figuratively. Aya turned into the human icicle, freezing up his muscles just as he did his emotions.

Yohji worked Aya's shoulders, digging his thumbs and the edge of his palms into Aya's upper back. Aya began to sag, starting to slump as his muscles gave into the exhausted limp state Yohji was making. He didn't have to wait much longer before Aya started to slump against his chest, his eyes starting to flutter closed.

Yohji managed to turn Aya around, letting him fall against the pile of pillows at the head of the bed. Aya's arms flopped down uselessly at his sides, not in any shape energetic enough to fight this right now. He was almost asleep on the pillows, glancing up at Yohji under the sweep of his eyelashes.

Yohji assured himself that he was not trying to do anything more then he thought Aya was comfortable with. Aya was staying relaxed and playable under Yohji's hands, and he didn't voice an objection when Yohji pulled the shirt apart, spreading the cloth away from Aya's body. It dropped a bit on Aya's shoulders, but was still under his back on the bed. Yohji put a hand on Aya's sides, over the hollowed curves of his ribs.

"You gonna be able to sleep?" Yohji asked. Aya moaned a yes, nodding on the pillow. He was almost passed out. Yohji found a knot in Aya's side, slowly working out the overtaxed muscles one by one. Aya had been starting to do exercises, nothing more serious then a few sit-ups and push-ups, not daring to do exercises with the katana without building his muscles up again. It made Aya even more tired and slower to heal, Yohji having to bear Aya passing out as soon as he was sitting down.

Aya was falling asleep under it now, believing that Yohji wouldn't try to force him in his sleep. Aya had told him it had happened once, when he was been knocked unconscious. Aya had woken up with a concussion and a dick in the ass. It was a very special thing to have Aya fall asleep on him. Aya didn't like to be defenseless if there was someone else in the room, not matter who it was.

But now, Yohji continued his slow, gentlemanly massage. Aya lolled his head on the pillows, not trying to fight off the alcohol and exhaustion. Yohji pulled away finally when he heard Aya's soft, breathy snores. He was asleep, passed out in front of Yohji without a care. Slowly, so Aya wouldn't notice, Yohji sat back, settling on the mattress beside Aya.

Aya stayed slumped on the pillows, his white skin almost blending with the white folds of the shirt. His red hair was bright on his face; one ear tail swirled across his face and into his mouth. Yohji brushed it back into place, mesmerized by Aya's soft, sleeping red lips. Amazing that he could still look so peaceful in his sleep, though on waking Aya would look much different, much more pained and alone.

Yohji gently pulled one of Aya's arms out of the sleeve. Aya moaned a bit, waking up but refusing to be cooperative and roll over. Yohji had to push Aya over onto his stomach to get the shirt out from under him. Yohji pulled the sleeve down Aya's arm, trying to be soft to let Aya sleep, but not so slow Aya would get scared that Yohji was attempting to seduce him.

Yohji put an arm under Aya's back, pulling the redhead up to a sitting position. Aya was suspiciously limp and submissive. Yohji got Aya's arms into the shirt and pulled it over his head. Aya snored on. Not about to wake up to help Yohji out. Yohji gently undid the latch on the belt, watching Aya's face for any signs of rousing. Aya continued to sleep on when Yohji got a grip around the waist of the pants.

He slowly, very carefully dragged the pants off Aya's legs, trying not to wake Aya up at this point. He wouldn't want Aya to know that he was pulling his pants off. Aya might think Yohji was trying to get him really naked. Yohji got them off Aya's legs, dropping them slowly to the floor so he wouldn't wake.

Aya dozed on, oblivious the fact he was only wearing Yohji's shirt and a pair of boxers. Yohji looked at the small shadow of muscle on Aya's thigh, the line disappearing into the pants of the boxers. One hand was curled up by Aya's face, gentle and open as Aya slept comfortably, a faint flush on his cheeks. You're not here to gawk, Yohji hissed at himself, jerking his face away.

Yohji moved forward, tugging gently on the boxers. Aya shifted once, murmuring something that was lost to Yohji. Yohji waited for Aya to settle down again before pulling the boxers fully off, just down to over his knees. He didn't want to have to explain to Aya why he took the underwear off completely. Sebastian had been digging a foot into Aya's groin. If he had hurt him, Yohji would go strangle the man right now.

Aya moved in his sleep, spreading out on his back like a sleeping cat. Yohji slowly shifted his body over Aya's, bending down to look at the groin. There was a red smear of blood under the base of Aya's left ball. He had taken care of that wound before, and he knew it was soft and tender. He cursed, pissed that Sebastian would be so careless. It wasn't like the guy knew what had happened to Aya, either, but Yohji still had the right to be angry as all hell.

Yohji tugged a tissue out of the Kleenex box, spitting into it to give the paper some moisture. He ran it under Aya's penis, gently swiping away the blood. He was very careful; making sure it was all very slow and gentle, so slow that Aya might not even notice it was happening. That was what Yohji hoped to succeed in as he put Aya's member back down, letting it lay against his leg like it usually would.

He pulled the boxers up, hoping that Aya might be drunk enough to actually not remember tonight. He would prefer it that way. He didn't want to have to protect Aya from this. Yohji didn't want to see Aya suffer through Sebastian's touch because he didn't want to upset his dear sister. It made Yohji mad that he couldn't be allowed by Aya's side. Because of all the 'face' Aya was trying to save.

Yohji pulled back the covers from under Aya's body, waiting for the man to settle on the bed before tucking him in. Yohji drew the sheets up to Aya's neck, flicking a few bits of hair back into place before moving away from the bed. Aya didn't stir, surely passed out from the alcohol.

He would have liked to leave the bedside lamp on for Aya, just in case he woke up in the middle of the night. It would have comforted Aya immediately, casting light on the room that was familiar. But, Yohji had to flick the lights off and leave Aya in the pitch dark because the lamp was broken. The only light was the moon shadows the snow reflected up into the window.

"Goodnight," Yohji whispered, closing the door. He smiled. It might not have been sleeping with Aya, but he felt like he had patched things up a bit. If Aya was still comfortable falling asleep with Yohji, then maybe sex hadn't messed the whole thing up like Yohji thought it had. He sighed, leaning his head into the door. He was really in love with Aya.

"Oh, Yohji-kun, that's so sweet," Omi said honestly. Yohji opened his eyes, looking down at Omi's smiling face. What did the brat know? How long had he been standing there, watching Yohji? Omi continued to walk down the hall, toward Ken's room.

"I'm going to do laundry tonight, so throw your dirty clothes out in the hall," Omi told him, disappearing into Ken's room. Yohji blinked. This late at night? Omi came back out, hauling a laundry bag he must have packed beforehand.

"But, won't up you be up late?" Yohji asked. Omi shook his head, setting the laundry bag down so he could talk to Yohji.

"No, I'll just start it now so I can be ahead tomorrow morning!" Omi reasoned. Yohji shrugged. It didn't matter much to him. He scrubbed at his face, following the kid down the stairs. He had the couch tonight. He'd have to stop by the linen closet and pray that there would be some soft, clean blankets in there. He didn't know about the state of their bedding now, after they had used most of it on Aya.

"Hey mate, Aya-chan and I are gonna hit the sack… Well, get in bed, if you know what I mean?" Sebastian smirked, pointing a finger at him from the kitchen. Yohji looked up, trying to stay 'stupid' as Sebastian cocked his pointer finger and fired it like a gun. Was the man just slow or did he really forget Yohji didn't 'know' English?

"Goodnight, Yohji," Aya-chan called from the stairwell. Yohji growled up at the couple. They better not keep Aya up. It had become painfully obvious how thin their walls were lately.

* * *

"Yohji!" Aya screamed out helplessly, barely able to make a word out. Yohji grunted in return, his hands on either side of Aya's face on the sheets. He couldn't talk right now, couldn't think about anything else. Aya's body rocked underneath him, Yohji pounding into Aya, mindless with lust. So good, so warm, so perfect.

Aya screamed again, this time in fear. Yohji sat up straight on the couch, the blankets thrown off his body in a second. The dryer had finally stopped, sending the house into an eerily silence after the scream. I'm still dreaming? No, not in his dreams did Aya's screaming rock the house; a wordless crying that shattered the quiet darkness of the night. He knew he shouldn't have agreed to this. He knew this would happen. Yohji was already running up the stairs, the wood cold on his bare feet.

By the time Yohji made it to the top of the stairs, Omi threw open his bedroom door, hastily pulling on a shirt. Ken wasn't far behind, wearing only a pair of boxers. They saw Yohji running to his bedroom, trying the doorknob. Locked. Aya screamed again, louder now that Yohji was closer to him. Why had he agreed to separate rooms? God, what was going on in there?

Suddenly, Yohji remembered that his watch was no longer hidden in the bed stand. Aya had broken the cabinet. Yohji had set the watch on top of his dresser. In plain sight. God, how fucking stupid could he be? Don't kill yourself; don't kill yourself, Yohji chanted, begging anyone that would listen. Aya screamed again, pleading with someone to leave him alone. Why had Yohji left him alone to fight his nightmares? Yohji tried the doorknob again in disgust, slamming a fist on the door.

"Aya, open this door. Fucking open it right now!" Yohji roared, trying to reach Aya. There was a sob. Aya was crying now. Oh, when had he ever said it would be okay to separate for just one goddamn night? Not even a few hours into the evening and Aya was already attacked by his own nightmares. Yohji wasn't there to wake him up. How far into the dream had Aya gone?

"Ran?" Aya-chan yelled, throwing open Yohji's bedroom door. She was dressed in only a white nightshirt that had to be Sebastian's. Her legs were bare and her hair was down, wild around her face. It was obvious what Sebastian and she had been up to. Aya-chan ran across the hall, shoving Yohji out of the way. Yohji stumbled, regaining his balance quickly. So now she was going to be a sister?

"Ran! Ran, open the door, please!" Aya-chan was pounding on Aya's door. Sebastian came up behind Aya-chan, his eyes wide at Aya's screaming. He glanced at Ken and Omi, both of them used to Aya freaking out in the middle of the night. This was the first time Yohji hadn't been there immediately. This was the first time Aya had been left alone in a room to deal with his nightmares. The first time he was screaming in terror, all alone.

"Out of the way," Yohji ordered. Aya-chan moved away from the door and Yohji stood in front of it, taking a step back. He kicked the door once, the doorframe cracking with the force of it. The door didn't give quite yet and Yohji kicked it again. It flew open, no longer swinging in an arc but instead creaking before falling off the hinges. Aya-chan flew past Yohji, running into the room before he even had a chance to turn the lights on.

Aya was underneath the window, far away from the bed. He was hiding next to the dresser, crammed into the corner it made with the wall, the overhang of the window protecting him from above. Aya had his hands over his head, making fists in his hair. His face was shoved into his knees, heartbreakingly small in a tight ball, curled up around himself.

"Ran, Ran, what's wrong?" Aya-chan begged, throwing herself down before her brother. He didn't move, he didn't make a single noise. Aya didn't stir, didn't do a single damn thing to show he knew they were there. Aya-chan reached out before anyone could warn her, trying to touch her brother on his right hand.

Aya screamed, kicking her solidly in the stomach. Aya-chan was thrown back as Aya threw out his hands, fighting with the air in front of him. Yohji knew he was fighting with the memories. Sebastian yelled out in anger, going to Aya-chan's side. She was gasping, the air knocked out of her by her brother.

"You little bastard," Sebastian roared at Aya, raising up a fist. Aya flinched away, scrabbling against the wall in an attempt to get away. There was nowhere left for him to go, already pressed as far into the corner as he could manage. Aya-chan starting crying, adding tears and sobbing to the noise, Aya's own screaming and pleading overpowering Ken's curses and Omi's whimpering questions of what was wrong.

"Don't. Don't! Leave me alone! Don't touch me. Please. Don't touch me!" Aya begged miserably, hiding his head back under his arms. Sebastian stared at Aya, shocked out of anger. Anyone would be when they saw Aya, the no-emotions robot, go crazy at someone's touch, even his own sister's. Anyone would be shocked when Aya cowered in fear in front of them, expecting to be hit and not even going to try and fight it.

Yohji shoved Sebastian fiercely out of his path, going down to his knees in front of Aya. Aya-chan was still crying, harder now that she had her breath back. Sebastian bent down, putting his arms around Aya-chan. Ken and Omi hung back, knowing that the only one who could reach Aya now would be Yohji. Yohji lifted up a hand by Aya's arm, not daring to touch him yet as Aya's body started to tremble.

"Aya, it's me… It's Yohji," he elaborated after a moment's thought. He wasn't quite sure how aware Aya was of his surroundings right now. There was silence. Aya wasn't saying anything. Yohji placed the tip of his fingers on Aya's clenching hands. There wasn't a flinch, there wasn't a scream.

"Hey, man, what are you doing on the floor here?" Yohji asked, not expecting an answer. He would talk just to let Aya know it was him. Just so Aya could hear his voice. Sometimes the point could get confused, Aya forgetting who was touching him if he couldn't hear Yohji's voice to connect the hand to the person. Yohji felt safe to make the contact a bit stronger, wrapping one hand lightly around one of Aya's fists.

"Why don't you stand up?" Yohji asked, pulling Aya's limp hand away from his hair. Yohji winced when a large chuck of red strands fell from Aya's fingers. He was surprised there wasn't blood on Aya's scalp. Aya-chan sobbed helplessly when Aya looked up, surveying the damage he had caused with those lifeless, violet eyes. Sebastian held her closer, glaring at Aya with a hard, unforgiving look.

"I'm sorry," Aya said faintly, pitifully. His eyes were full of unshed tears, Aya already making himself hold back any emotions for the sake of others. Aya's face was pink, his face marred from the salty tears on his light, sensitive skin. It made Yohji hurt to see Aya like this. It made Yohji want to shove everyone out of the room and just hold Aya forever. Make sure that no one ever touched him again. Instead, Yohji put his other hand on the side of Aya's face, wiping away some of the tears on his face, brushing back the bangs that had become messy.

"It's okay," Yohji lied. It wasn't okay. Every single time he said that it was all right, it was the farthest fucking thing from fine. He had lied more in the past month or so then he had in his entire life. Aya's eyes looked up at Yohji, pleading from inside, two small holes in the mask Aya was trying so desperately to keep on his face.

"It's not bloody okay! He just kicked his sister!" Sebastian snarled at the most inappropriate time. Aya-chan grabbed Sebastian's shirt even though she was still trying to get her breath back, her face stained with tears. She wasn't the crier Aya was. Aya's face swelled and he turned red when he cried. Aya-chan's tears sparkled, making two perfect trails down her cheeks.

It was Ken who grabbed Sebastian's collar and hauled him up from Aya-chan's side. Yohji had wanted desperately to beat the living shit out of the man, but he still had Aya's hand in his, trying to coax Aya off the floor. Sebastian didn't even manage an insult before Ken hauled the man out of the room, Aya-chan starting to cry even harder at her boyfriend's removal.

"You stupid, fucking spoiled prick!" Ken's curses were heard very clearly even though they were in the hall. It wasn't like they could close the door anymore. Omi was lost, knowing that there was no way to salvage this fiasco. He just smiled weakly as he knelt down next to Aya-chan, offering a shoulder. Aya-chan took it, turning to Omi and weeping loudly as they all heard Sebastian being shoved against a wall.

"What are you saying? Speak English, for God's sake!" Sebastian demanded outside the room, still trying to make everyone compensate for his lack of a second language. Yohji wanted to call Sebastian a few choice words in his own limited English, but instead, he looked back at Aya. Aya wasn't even looking at Yohji, biting his lower lip and closing his eyes tightly. He had finally come to his senses, now aware of everything he had done. Aya was embarrassed, humiliated because he had a nightmare.

"Aya, it's alright," Yohji tried to head it off before Aya started to withdraw completely. Aya blinked up at Yohji's face, then over to Aya-chan. His face fell, looking sad and hurt and so damned guilty. Everything had to be his fault. Aya's lips and hands trembled as he crawled forward, stopping by his sister.

"Aya-chan, please, I'm… I'm so sorry," Aya begged, trying to get Aya-chan to look at him. Aya-chan kept her eyes downcast, her tears hitching with every breath. Aya raised up her chin, placing once hand against her cheeks and drawing her eyes to him.

"Aya-chan, it was just a bad dream," Aya assured very slowly. Yohji didn't believe him! The little prick was going to try and pass off the nightmare as a 'bad dream.' People didn't have 'bad dreams' where they woke up screaming if someone didn't wake them soon enough. 'Bad dreams' didn't make someone cry and try to curl up around himself.

"Ran… oh, are you all right?" Aya-chan whispered. She knew Aya was trying to lie to here. Even as a bad sister, she could still read Aya better then most people. She knew something was eating away at Aya from the inside. She could tell that Aya was hurting. Aya-chan put her own hand up to her brother's face, trying to connect with him.

"I'll tell you later, okay?" Aya flinched away, not about to bear that kind of caress so soon after a nightmare. Aya dropped his other hand like it was burned, pulling away from Aya-chan with a brutal coldness. Aya didn't ever believe that someone would care for him, so he just hid away. It pissed Yohji off. He cared for the man.

"Aya?" Yohji asked, trying to gauge the redhead. Aya jumped, going to his feet in a moment, startled by the voice. There was the sound of a heavy blow to someone's flesh. A body hit the floor outside the room and Aya shrank a bit, no doubt associating that to his recent dream. Yohji started to go toward Aya's back, trying not to spook the redhead.

"Aya-chan, Sebastian's fainted outside," Ken called back into the room. Aya didn't look at Ken's face, probably still humiliated that he had coward when Sebastian raised a fist. Yohji put a hand on Aya's shoulder, trying to reach him. Aya jumped a bit, but didn't shy out from under his hand. Slowly, Aya turned around to face him.

"Y… Yohji? You're real, right? Please, I'm not dreaming," Aya hissed, begging Yohji to tell him that this was not a nightmare. Aya had told Yohji before that for some reason, the blonde had not entered his dreams. It meant Yohji would be a sign that this place was the real world, and he didn't have to fear anything.

"Aya, it's okay. You're awake, we're all awake," Yohji laughed, looking at the crowd. Aya looked around at the room, guilty that he had made everyone wake up in the middle of the night. Embarrassed that he had screamed like that. Aya grabbed a fist of Yohji's shirt, pulling at it to see if it was real.

"Aya, I think we should talk now. You have to tell her," Yohji demanded. He wouldn't let it slide. Not this time. Aya needed to tell his sister what was going on. She had a right to know. They all had the right to hear exactly what had happened. Ken and Omi had never actually heard the full story. Yohji hadn't exactly been open mouth about it, and Aya didn't say a damn word.

"No, no, I can't," Aya begged, turning into Yohji's chest. He was trying to hide from Aya-chan's gaze. He didn't want her to see him right now, see her older brother freaking out like a small child. One small, adult package of trauma that was terrified at being alone. But, Aya would never reveal what he had gone through to any of them.

"Ran? Please, I want to know. Sebastian's probably out cold so he won't say anything," Aya-chan begged. It was true. She was thinking about Ran's sake. She didn't want him to be teased by her boyfriend. Maybe the little bitch hadn't changed quite so much. Yohji began to wonder how much of the influence was Sebastian.

"Aya-chan… I can't," Aya begged. He didn't want to tell them. Aya was humiliated, shamed beyond belief at what he had done. Yohji hugged Aya close, trying to help him burrow into his chest to hide from their eyes. He allowed Aya a moment. Just a moment to collect himself, to sort out what he would tell them.

"In the kitchen," Aya demanded. He wanted to take that brief time that it would take to go downstairs to think up a story. Yohji would let him take that time, if it meant he would still tell Aya-chan. Yohji didn't want Aya to force himself through it, preteneding everything was all right. The act was already taking its toll, Aya sobered up very quickly after the nightmare.

"All right. I'll put some tea on," Omi offered, going downstairs. Ken followed him, jumping over the fallen door to get to the hallway. Yohji began to loosen his grip on Aya. He didn't want to let him go. He wanted to make sure that Aya was all right, that Aya knew he was safe.

Aya-chan made them break apart, Aya going over to help his sister up. Aya-chan took her brother's shoulder, leaning on him. It didn't seem right to have Aya-chan use Ran as a crutch to make it down stairs. Aya was the more wounded one, emotionally shattered. Aya-chan just had a sore stomach.

Yohji walked out around the hallway. Sebastian was a sorry sight, sprawled against the wall in an unconscious heap. His right cheek was bruised, a bit of his cheek bleeding. He was out at that little tap? Maybe Yohji wouldn't get as much satisfaction as he thought he would if he beat up Aya-chan's boyfriend. Aya, for the most part, treated Sebastian like a road obstacle, merely stepping over a leg to clear him. Aya-chan leaned on her brother, giggling at her boyfriend's pale, pathetic face.

They all went downstairs, Omi already starting a pot of hot water. Ken sat down at the empty kitchen table, putting an arm on top to lean on. Aya-chan took a seat as well, breaking away from Aya to sit next to Ken. Yohji took out several mugs for them all, figuring it would be a long time. Aya stood up, uselessly trying to figure out his story.

"Ran…?" Aya-chan asked, wondering why her brother was so nervous. Her face was going pale. She knew that what she was going to hear would not be pleasant. Aya-chan could sense that the story Aya was going to tell her was very serious. She was starting to look more stricken by the minute, going closer to tears again as Aya stayed silent.

"Just… give me a moment," Aya insisted, closing his eyes in thought. Yohji sat down, not sure what he could do. He didn't think giving Aya any comfort would help him now. It would just draw his attention to how wrong their relationship was. Aya felt shame that he was a prostitute, that he was gay. Aya didn't think that Aya-chan would take it well. Yohji knew it would be bad, but Aya-chan wouldn't look down on her brother.

At least, if she really wasn't a little spoiled brat now. It was hard to judge now. The water boiled on the stove, background for Aya's silence. They were all waiting on Aya's word, and that made him only more inclined to stay silent. Yohji wanted to offer out his hand, something for Aya to support himself with. Give Aya a bit of strength if he could.

Aya sat down heavily, ignoring Yohji's hand. Ignoring anything Yohji was trying to give. Aya was going to face this alone. Because he was the one who was so ashamed of it. Aya looked his sister dead on, not backing down anymore. They had gone too far to stop now.

"Aya-chan, did you ever wonder how… where the money was coming from?" Aya asked his sister. Aya-chan nodded her head innocently. Aya kept looking on steadily, not saying a word.

"It was from the flower shop, right?" Aya-chan asked. Ridiculous. That much money coming in just from flowers? How could she honestly believe that? Aya shook his head, closing his eyes. Ken leaned forward, sitting up straight in his chair as Aya prepared to reveal his life to them. Omi opened up a cupboard, pulling out an oven mitt for the pot. Omi was otherwise focused on the back of Aya's head, just as interested as the rest of them.

Aya was spellbinding, really. Yohji was watching as Aya's face reflected the white light of the kitchen, making him glow, almost like an angel. His skin looked so soft, yet his face was very hard and smooth, emotionless as he thought about how to phrase it.

"Aya, I've been doing another job, because I thought you needed the money," Aya admitted. "I… I quit it… so, you won't be getting as much anymore." Was that what Aya was worried about? Shit. Yohji didn't want Aya to think about his sister. Yohji wanted Aya to take himself into account, just for one fucking time in his life.

"Oh… Why? What was the job? Why did you have to quit?" Aya-chan asked. Yohji wasn't sure what she was more concerned over, her brother or the money. She didn't make it very clear what she cared about more right now. Yohji looked over to Aya, who shrank a bit at the hard questions, his red bangs hiding his eyes.

"Aya-chan… I did something… that I am not proud of… And, it's not your fault… It's mine, it's my fault," Aya stressed first. Aya-chan nodded shakily, not sure what her brother was going to tell her. She was starting to suspect it was something bad. The pot hissed, starting to steam with the boiling water.

"Aya-chan, I… I did male hosting," Aya said very quietly, but it was still loud enough to be heard. Yohji didn't expect Aya to dance around the subject, but plow right to the heart of things, just like he had done now. Aya-chan blinked, her eyes starting to go wide. She gasped, realizing what her brother meant.

"You're joking… This is a bad joke," Aya-chan tried. Yohji looked her straight on as she glanced to him, trying to have Yohji tell her it was true. That it was a joke. Yohji wished it were. It would be so much easier then, so much more innocent to try and court Aya. But, it wasn't, this was their cold, hard reality. Assassins learned not to keep petty regrets and visions of better days. It got you killed more often then not.

"Aya, I was a prostitute. I let them buy me. I sold my body to them," Aya explained very slowly. He didn't like having to make himself clearer. He had just wanted Aya-chan to understand. He hadn't wanted to tell her more. Aya-chan shook her head. Omi came to the table, giving everyone a cup of steaming water. He was silent for Aya's sake, passing out the tea packets wordlessly.

Yohji tore open Aya's packet, dunking the tea into the water for the man. He knew Aya wasn't up to preparing himself a cup of tea right now. He made himself one as well, waiting for the water to cool and the tea to brew in the water. Aya put his hands on the table, clenching them in front of his cup on the table. It gave him something else to look at.

"I sold my body every night. I wasn't really... expensive… so, it would take a while to get enough money… I thought that you needed it," Aya tried to reason with her. He didn't want Aya to be ashamed of him. Aya-chan was one of Aya's only reasons left to live. Aya-chan was everything Aya had put faith in. Yohji wished he could get even half the degree of admiration Aya put in his sister.

"Ran… I can't believe this… I didn't know," she whispered, shocked. Omi nodded his head, suspecting this all along. It was just nice to hear Aya tell them, to have Aya trust them enough to reveal what had happened.

"Nobody knew, Aya-chan. I didn't tell anyone. I just… did it. It was my choice," Aya said, reaching a hand out to her across the table. Aya-chan raised her hands to her face, wiping at her tears with the back of her hands.

"Don't! Don't tell me that!" Aya-chan screamed. "It wasn't your choice at all, was it?" Yohji blinked at Aya-chan. What did she possible know? How could she suspect? Aya-chan had heard the aftermath of a dream, but that didn't mean she knew what they were about. Yohji barely liked what he knew of them.

"Aya-chan…" Aya whispered, his eyes wide at his sister's intuition. Ken and Omi looked on, distant spectators to the siblings facing off. Aya wasn't enjoying this new turn of conversation. Aya-chan wasn't backing down, staring at her brother with teary eyes.

"Don't lie to me," she insisted in a shaky, deep voice. Aya was dead serious now. "Ran… what did they do? It wasn't your choice, was it? Not all the time… was it?" Aya-chan demanded. Aya stared at her, his mouth frozen open. Aya didn't have an answer for her, because they would all reveal what he had done. Aya was still so humiliated by it all. He didn't want them to take advantage of him if he showed a weakness. He didn't want them to make fun of him. Aya wouldn't be able to deal with it now.

"Aya-chan… I… I was always paid," Aya said slowly. Yohji probably had the same thoughts as Aya-chan. Was it worth it? Had that money been worth the pain, worth the scars? Worth these dreams at night? Aya was insisting it had been his free will, but Yohji knew the truth. Aya hadn't ever truly given into the sex, not like a real prostitute. Aya had just been trapped in a vicious cycle of violence, money and business. He hadn't been able to escape that and avoid a public scene. The businessmen and politicians had held that over Aya's head. He was scared now, that the media might come crashing down on him at any minute because some of the past customers had been very powerful, influential people.

"So? So what? Ran, I don't want that money if that's how you got it," Aya said slowly, lifting up her face from her hands. Her eyes were dry as she said this, very determined. She didn't want Aya to do this ever again. Yohji could tell if she didn't want the money because Aya had been hurt, or if she was ashamed her brother was a prostitute.

"I've quit. I stopped it… A while ago," Aya insisted, trying to avoid the subject. He didn't want to give any more of those details. Aya was trying to stay detached from this, not allowing his eyes to get wet with tears. Aya looked just as cold and untouchable as ever, beautiful and alone in the world.

"Is that why… you were avoiding me? What… what those bruises are all about?" Aya-chan asked. Aya self-consciously ducked his head, hiding the split over his eyes that hadn't stopped being an angry red on his white face. And the corner of his mouth that was a bit paler now, scarred from being slightly ripped open.

"In order… to quit… There was a deal. I had to live through… a night… without a hospital. Like a goodbye ceremony, I suppose," Aya admitted distantly, his voice going soft as he started to remember. Aya's eyes glazed over a bit, looking beyond the table as he thought of other things. Things he shouldn't think about.

"Ran… what… don't tell me?" Aya begged. Omi took a small, hesitant sip of the cooling tea. Ken hadn't moved, listening to Aya in rapt attention. Only Yohji was relaxed. He was trying to be calm for Aya's sake, to provide an emotional anchor when Aya looked over for support.

Yohji nodded at Aya when those violet eyes settled on him, asking for help. Aya didn't want to tell them. He didn't want to admit to it. As long as people didn't know, he could pretend it never happened. Aya wanted to save honor that way. Yohji grabbed Aya's hand, damning Aya-chan's sensibilities. He squeezed it, trying to warm the cold, slim digits.

Aya looked down at his pale hand in Yohji's darker, bigger one. His was certainly more feminine, even though he had pale scrapes on his knuckles. His joints were still green from being shattered, but the bones had healed. The scars might not though, a reminder forever of what Aya had done.

"They beat me. They beat me, and raped me, and left me for dead," Aya hissed, still angry that he had allowed it to happen. "I managed to steal a pair of pants and run, Aya-chan… That was all I could do," Aya admitted, his face jumping between anger and shame as he remembered.

"Oh, Ran… I'm so… sorry. It's my fault," Aya-chan sobbed. Ken raised a hand to her shoulder, trying to comfort the girl. Aya looked up in a pained shock, slamming a hand down on the table.

"No, Aya-chan, it was my fault. It was my choice, not yours," Aya roared. Anger came up, Aya not knowing how to comfort someone. He never had to before before. Yohji wondered how Aya felt; trying to tell someone the facts and they just wouldn't listen to common sense. Yohji had tried to reason with Aya before, trying to get him to accept the fact that it wasn't his fault. Aya had denied it, just like Aya-chan was doing now.

"But… But, because of Sebastian and me… You, you did this," Aya-chan screamed, turning to Ken's chest. Aya looked like he might finally cry as well, trying to tell Aya that it wasn't her fault. Aya didn't want to ruin her like this. This was why Aya had never wanted his sister to know that he was a whore.

"Aya-chan, please, just calm down," Omi pleaded, not wanting anyone to be upset so. Aya sat back in the chair slowly, shaking his head against the tears. His ear tails brushed against his face, against those thin cheekbones. Still so fragile, still so determined to gain back his old strength.

"Ran… Please… don't do it… don't ever do it again. I don't need money, if that's how you're going to get it," Aya said coldly, suddenly so similar to her brother in attitude. She was insulted that Aya had hurt himself to pay for her. She hadn't thought her brother was this self-sacrificing. She didn't want him to be in pain because of her.

Aya-chan stood up from the table, leaving her full teacup on the table. She walked away slowly, going back up the stairs. They listened in cold silence as she roused Sebastian in an irritated, muffled voice. The two must have gone back to bed, for there were no more sounds after that.

Yohji turned to Aya. The redhead was staring down at his tea, his mouth slightly parted just to breath. He looked suspiciously calm, his eyes almost completely blank of any awareness. Yohji raised up a hand, tapping Aya on the shoulder.

Aya jumped to life, flinching away with a sharp breath of air. He looked up at Yohji in a shock of recognition, glancing around the table. He looked at Aya-chan's empty seat, ignoring the rest of them. That was how Aya would like to deal with it. Deny, deny, deny and ignore.

"Aya, it's all right now. She knows," Yohji tried to assure him. How could he tell Aya that it was better now that his sister knew? To Aya, it was the worst thing on earth. Aya-chan was ashamed of her brother, and ashamed of herself for helping him do it. They both were shouldering the blame, alike in that aspect. They just dealt with it differently.

"But… What should I do?" Aya asked, distant, lost. Yohji brushed an ear tail shamelessly out of Aya's face, displaying affection without a single thought for Ken of Omi. Or for Aya. Screw the face and honor. It was gone anyways, torn to shreds.

"Nothing, not now. Tomorrow, we can try talking some more. It'll be easier then," Yohji tried to reassure Aya. How could he promise Aya that talking to people would bring about good things? Aya-chan had already run upstairs, locking herself away from her brother for the rest of the night.

"I don't know… What I can do anymore?" Aya asked, looking down at his hands. Aya was trying to see the calluses there, from sword work and the business of being an assassin. Instead, he saw soft palms, eased with expensive lotion because he had gotten too many complaints. Aya pulled down the sleeve of his shirt, looking at his scarred wrist. Where he had been restrained before. It almost looked like he had a rope around his wrist now, the white scars wrapping around his joint.

"It doesn't matter Aya. You can figure that out later," Yohji told him. He didn't want to have Aya think about this now. This wasn't what he had to worry about. Aya just had to worry about himself for once in his goddamn life. Just worry about himself enough so that he could get better.

"Aya-kun, we'll be here for you as well, always," Omi promised from the end of the table, nodding at Aya when the redhead looked up. Aya stared at him in a bit of shock, that Omi would care that much and not question him about his masculinity, not tease him about being a male whore, allowing himself to be used like a woman.

"Don't worry, Aya, we'll kick serious ass if any of those guys show up around here again," Ken laughed, giving Aya a thumbs-up. Aya laughed a bit, unable to resist Ken's antics after being so scared and frightened only moments ago. Aya needed to laugh a bit, and brush off some of that terror.

"We'll be here," Yohji swore to Aya, holding his hand tightly between his two. Aya looked up at Yohji's face, blinking a bit shyly under all the attention. I'll be here for you. Yohji didn't want to say it out loud, not in front of Omi or Ken, but he hoped the message got through.

AUTHOR'S NOTE- Sebastian Andrieu is actually a real model! I wanted to base him off of someone who nobody can stand, and boy, isn't that a male model? If you know him and he's actually a nice guy, I'm sorry. On the Japanese test… I have no clue, but boy is my ass is sore from pulling ideas from it. Sorry about details, I seem to be totally off these days. That's probably because this has gotten so frickin' long! I'll be ending this mother soon, but now I am pumped and want to write more! If you have an idea/suggestion, do tell because I'm not that creative and need good inspiration. I need to think about it now so I can have it ready to write… You have to mull things over in your mind; at least I know I do…

ON THE LAST CHAPTER- okay, as we all might know, I screwed up! I just wanted to take the time to apologize. If you didn't catch this because I reposted so fast you never saw the error, ignore my obsessive worry rant. As you might have figured out, in my first version Aya freaked out too much to have sex, so the morning after scene was written to that. But, I was thinking about it and said 'hell, it's a fan fic' and figured even though Aya trippin' would have been far more realistic, I did put Yohji x Aya on the summary and that most certainly hadn't been happening… Thank you very sincerely from my little heart if you were one of the few people who emailed me…. Repetitively….

ON THE LONG ASS WAIT- J it got edited. Aren't you happier for it? Don't worry, now I can post like the wind!