Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Halcyon ❯ Chapter 8 ( Chapter 8 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Title: Halcyon (Ch. 8)

Author: Genuinelie(s)

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer: Weiss Kreuz is not mine.

Pairing: AxY

Summary: The boys are finding that until death, all ends are just masked beginnings.

A/N: Continuation. We're getting there...

Please note that this chapter has been modified from the original to comply with ff.net, you can find the original here: http:// genuinelie. livejournal. com / 154108.html (without spaces)

xxxxx

This had been a stupid idea.

What had Ran been hoping to find? Yohji, lurking in Tokyo's gay clubs, when he was more likely to be on a plane?

Ran was an assassin. This was Yohji's purview - pretending to be a normal twenty-something-year-old. Ignoring who he'd become. Ran had difficulty being himself, let alone pretending to be someone different.

Even if he were a "normal" man - he would never wander here. The thought slipped in, surprising him. The crowd, the noise, the drunks and the drugged - it all made him uncomfortable. The thought that he could take any one of them made him feel more safe, though not at ease.

It wasn't a logical thought. He wasn't "normal". There was no point in considering what he would do if he had the choice. Yohji's ability to look beyond that - perhaps he was jealous of it.

Ran had a purpose.

No, he didn't.

He had his sister.

No - he didn't.

He had Weiss.

That was a constant. Even if members left, he realized with a start, looking at his empty vodka glass. Even if they changed, and Manx gave them new members, he would still be Weiss.

When they replaced Yohji, he would still be Weiss.

He was sure they would. Four assassins worked more smoothly, made more sense than three. Teams of two. Of course they would replace him.

And it didn't matter, not really, he supposed. Purpose or no, he knew his place.

Ran pushed up from the bar, sick. Not drunk - he'd only had one drink - not even buzzed. But suddenly he felt nauseous.

xxxxx

Ran took the back alley out of the club, he didn't feel like being among any more people. The streets had probably emptied out some, but they wouldn't be deserted. He rounded the corner, head down to discourage the bouncer from talking to him.

He watched his feet pass over the filthy cement, kicking up mud and grey litter, discarded pill packets and cigarettes.

He rounded the corner onto the back street, and ran headfirst into someone.

His head snapped up at the same time Yohji's did.

Both of their hands were poised over weapons they weren't wearing.

Yohji's eyes, wide with horror and something else, quickly narrowed into slits behind his sunglasses.

Ran remained frozen.

After a moment, Yohji lowered his arms, stuffing his hands into his coat. His face was determined. He kept his gaze on Ran's for a moment longer, then pushed past him, toward the club.

As if he were a stranger.

The alley was deserted, and unlit.

Yohji let out a small laugh as he passed. It contained no humor, only pain.

Ran slammed sideways into him before he made it past, hand shooting out to ram into Yohji's shoulder. He spun him into the concrete of the building before he reached the corner.

He warred with himself. It took him a second to hold back from throwing the punch to his stomach, grabbing Yohji by the head instead.

He took him in, raking over Yohji's length, almost unbelieving.

He was still in Tokyo.

He closed his eyes. Yohji wasn't moving.

When he opened them again, Yohji had taken his glasses off. His face was raw in the shadowed light.

His broken expression was what Ran had needed to see.

That this decision had hurt him as well.

Ran slammed himself back into Yohji, pressing them both against the wall. His lips found Yohji's, devoured them. His hands stayed in Yohji's hair, clamped around the back of his head. Keeping him in place. Opened his mouth, Yohji mirroring him.

You can't go yet.

Yohji's hands gripped Ran's lower back, grinding the men together. He moved his hips into Ran's, in a way that wasn't necessary and felt like torture with their clothes between them. Yohji's muscles were both familiar and uncharted.

Finally, Ran pulled away, gasping. Yohji stepped forward after him, back into his space. Ran leaned forward, not touching him, but unable to pull away again. Yohji bent his head to look at him, eyes intense.

"I feel," he rasped at Yohji.

How could you have started this, before you left.

He reached for Yohji's belt, slid his hands down over the smooth fabric of his clothes. Shoved him into the wall again, followed him into it. Yohji took in a ragged breath.

"You should have said so sooner." Yohji said, but it was soft. His hand reached up, ran through the bloody strands of Ran's hair. "Dammit, Aya."

"Ran," He corrected immediately. His irritation for once was overshadowed by the knowledge that Yohji was right.

Yohji kissed him fiercely, then pushed him off only to grab his arm. He suddenly found himself being dragged around the corner, back to the club. "Not there," Yohji hissed over his shoulder.

The warm air of the club, the deep beat vibrating through the floor of the landing hit him like a slap. Yohji tugged him past the bouncer and down the stairs, and down another flight he hadn't seen before, and through a hallway into a back room with bodies on couches. Ran was careful not to look at them, but followed Yohji into another room.

It was a kitchen. He noticed the bill Yohji slapped into the hand of a chef before he was pulled through the doors of the staff's bathroom.

A click and the door was locked. The room had three stalls, all empty. The paint was chipping, an ugly pale green trimmed with white, like a hospital.

Yohji pushed him into the wall before he could process his response.

Not going to do this in a restroom, like a -

But he was going to.

He couldn't keep suppressing this, suppressing what he felt, passing up again on something he'd ignored, when the cost was a slower death than the one he'd always been expecting to come, when it never had -

Ran jerked into motion, tugging the coat off of Yohji's shoulders, letting the man reciprocate. Yohji slid a hand down his stomach, under the waist of his jeans, the fabric beneath, while his other hand cupped his head at his neck, his mouth traveling down Ran's throat.

Suddenly, Yohji stopped. He pulled back, leaving Ran heaving against the wall, fingers curled against the tiles.

"You said you felt. So say it."

Ran's eyes snapped fully open. He stepped forward.

"Say it!" Yohji held him off, fingertips pressing into Ran's chest.

Ran set his jaw stubbornly, started working on Yohji's pants. He grabbed Ran, throwing his arms against the wall, caught at the wrists. "Say it!"

Violet eyes flicked to the side, steeled as they returned to Yohji's. "I...care...for you."

A wicked, grim smile turned the corners of Yohji's mouth. "That's not it." He bent slightly, open mouth sliding against Ran's neck. "But I'll take it. Ran."

xxxxx

Go to http:// genuinelie. livejournal. com / 154108.html (without spaces) for the full version! This version has been slightly modified to comply with ff.net rules and regs.

xxxxx

The beat of the club was still pulsing from above.

Yohji had crumpled forward. Ran held him up.

He bent his head as Yohji turned. Ran closed his eyes against the evidence of what they'd done.

Yohji pulled him forward, wrapped Ran in his arms. His lips moved against Ran's hair, but he couldn't make out what Yohji was saying, or if the words were even meant for him.

What had he done.

xxxxx*

Tbc.