Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ It's All Relative ❯ Chapter 17 ( Chapter 17 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: LilyMoonsAlias 
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Psychological / Hentai | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 08.25.2006 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.6K | Visits: 707 | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Psychological / Hentai | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 08.25.2006 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.6K | Visits: 707 | Status: Work In Progress
Yohji woke to a smothering field of orange. Oh Gods, all those years of making jokes about Aya's hideous orange sweater had come back to haunt him. Surely Aya didn't still possess the thing, but he must because here it was back for revenge trying to suffocate Yohji in his sleep. Then the orange separated into individual strands that slid across Yohji's cheek like silk as the body clasped in his arms rolled over on its back.
"That's some imagination you have there, Kudou," Schuldig yawned and ruffled his wild mane. "You could write for some bad 'B' movie company. 'Attack of the Killer Orange Sweater' or maybe a documentary like 'Fashion Mistakes and the Assassins Who Make Them'."
Yohji blinked rapidly at him, trying to wrap his mind around the fact he was in Schuldig's bed and desparately trying to remember how he got there.
"Schu, we...didn't, did we?"
"Nein."
Yohji's look of relief was comical.
"I don't know which offends me more, Kudou, the fact you could believe I would be so forgettable that you wouldn't remember or your relief that we didn't." Schuldig crossed his arms over his chest and raised his chin with a sniff.
Yohji grinned sheepishly and tugged on a lock of the telepath's hair. "Don't be offended. You know you're gorgeous. I was just worried I might have taken advantage of you."
Now it was Schuldig's turn to eye Yohji in disbelief and he laughed until tears flowed from his eyes and he had to clutch his stomach.
"God, Kudou! You are a gem," Schuldig managed to gasp out between bouts of giggles. "I think you are the first person to ever worry about taking advantage of me."
Yohji thought that was very sad and very telling about Schuldig's past, but he tactfully tucked the thought into the darkest recesses of his mind and hoped the telepath didn't catch it.
"So you let me bawl all over you then tucked me in and let me snuggle you like a security blanket?"
"Mutual snuggling, kitten. You were hurting last night and I chose to put you in my bed. Neither one of us took advantage of the other." Schuldig's smile turned suggestive and he tangled his fingers in Yohji's hair to pull the blond close. "But it's morning now."
He nibbled at the corner of Yohji's mouth and Yohji allowed their lips to brush in a chaste kiss, then he pulled back. Yohji looked intently into the telepath's blue eyes until he was satisfied with whatever he saw there. He pulled Schuldig in for another soft kiss, stroking the clinging waterfall of red hair then resolutely set the telepath away from him.
"I'm not going to lie to you, Schu, and tell you that I'm not attracted. I'm just not ready. I wouldn't want to jump into something if my head's not straight on the matter and I don't want to hurt you." Yohji laughed at himself. "Kudou Yohji turning down sex. The Gods must be laughing."
Schuldig wasn't laughing. He was staring at Yohji with something akin to puzzled fascination. Whatever the telepath was thinking, it quickened his breathing and pinked his cheeks. Yohji climbed from the bed and dropped a kiss on Schuldig's temple.
"Thanks for being there for me last night and thanks for keeping it between us. I'm going to my room to shower and change. Don't worry. I'll put fresh dressings on my hands. I guess it's my turn for cooking, so don't expect much. I think I can manage something passable although what you did for me last night deserves a gourmet meal," Yohji babbled.
"Anytime," Schuldig murmured, a dazed look on his face as Yohji left the room.
Yohji encountered Crawford in the hallway right outside Schuldig's door. The precognitive raised an eyebrow and Yohji blushed like a teenager caught sneaking in after curfew.
"It's not what you think," Yohji blurted defensively.
"I didn't ask," Crawford returned in a cool voice. "If something happened it would be your business."
"Um, yeah," Yohji mumbled and sped to his own room.
Crawford shook his head at the departing assassin and quietly opened his own door. Despite pain medications, Aya's well honed instincts had him opening his eyes immediately at the small sounds Crawford made.
"Brad?"
"Here." Crawford sat on the side of the bed and brushed aside the fall of red bangs to look at Aya's neck. "How does it feel?"
"Fine."
"I think you would argue that you were fine if you lost a limb and carried the bloody thing home."
Aya let loose a short laugh and threaded the fingers of their hands together. "I'll try to bitch and whine a little more."
Crawford lingered only a moment more before taking his coffee into his office where the laptop awaited. Aya sighed to himself and touched ginger fingertips to the bandage on his neck. Privately he admitted the gash stung viciously. Added to that, the still livid bruises he had been given in Japan still bloomed colorfully and ached if he let himself think about them. Aya stifled another sigh and climbed from the bed to shower himself.
Feeling somewhat better he descended to the kitchen to find his new old teammate standing outside the terrace doors smoking and nursing a mug of coffee. Aya cleared his throat to announce his presence and was surprised to see Yohji jump and blush a deep red clear to the roots of his hair.
"Ah, Aya. Morning." Yohji took a quick drag to cover his embarassment.
"You okay this morning, Yohji? You seem distracted and jumpy."
"I'm fine. Better. You?"
Aya frowned at Yohji and gestured impatiently for him to finish the cigarette and follow him back into the kitchen. Once inside the two assassins stared at one another, at a loss how to begin. Finally, Aya laid a gentle hand on Yohji's shoulder.
"I'm sorry your life with your wife was ruined," Aya said quietly.
Yohji's eyes widened and glistened wetly before he hardened his gaze. He placed his own hand over Aya's and squeezed then moved away from physical contact. Yohji swallowed more coffee, trying to find the words.
"Asuka deserved better," Yohji said so softly Aya nearly missed his first words. "I always felt in some part of my mind that I was cheating her, that I was using her to replace someone else. I think she could feel that. Sometimes I would catch her watching me and her face was always so sad. We weren't getting along very well. The day she was killed we were arguing and she had rushed ahead of me. If she hadn't whoever was waiting for me wouldn't have... She wouldn't have been..."
"Yohji."
Yohji shook his head and wrapped his arms around himself to ward off the remembered shock. Aya remained still until the blonde resumed speaking.
"She deserved better," Yohji repeated. "I can't do anything about that now, but I can see that the ones responsible for her death pay with their lives. It won't be enough, but it's something I can do."
Aya nodded. He knew better than anyone how empty Yohji's eventual revenge would leave him feeling, but he was unwilling to tamper with the vengeful crutch Yohji so obviously needed. Yohji looked strained and frayed to breaking. He watched as the blonde assassin beat back his pain and turned a small, patently false, smile on him.
"So, how did you come to join Schwarz? Given our history, I would think the last thing you would do is join with them. I'll give you that they have changed, or maybe we just never really knew them, but I don't remember you as someone willing to give them a chance."
Aya's smile was edged and self mocking.
"Bleeding to death alone in a foreign country is how they found me. I was marked, same as you. Crawford saw it, I suppose, and scooped me off the sidewalk. They offered me a place. I took it."
Yohji snorted at Aya's terse explanation. It was so typical of the man he remembered, and it was obviously only the bare bones of the matter. Rather than pick at Aya when he was holding on to his own painful revelations, Yohji let it all go except one question that nagged him.
"If Crawford saw the attack in a vision, why didn't he prevent you from getting injured in the first place?" Yohji asked.
"That's some imagination you have there, Kudou," Schuldig yawned and ruffled his wild mane. "You could write for some bad 'B' movie company. 'Attack of the Killer Orange Sweater' or maybe a documentary like 'Fashion Mistakes and the Assassins Who Make Them'."
Yohji blinked rapidly at him, trying to wrap his mind around the fact he was in Schuldig's bed and desparately trying to remember how he got there.
"Schu, we...didn't, did we?"
"Nein."
Yohji's look of relief was comical.
"I don't know which offends me more, Kudou, the fact you could believe I would be so forgettable that you wouldn't remember or your relief that we didn't." Schuldig crossed his arms over his chest and raised his chin with a sniff.
Yohji grinned sheepishly and tugged on a lock of the telepath's hair. "Don't be offended. You know you're gorgeous. I was just worried I might have taken advantage of you."
Now it was Schuldig's turn to eye Yohji in disbelief and he laughed until tears flowed from his eyes and he had to clutch his stomach.
"God, Kudou! You are a gem," Schuldig managed to gasp out between bouts of giggles. "I think you are the first person to ever worry about taking advantage of me."
Yohji thought that was very sad and very telling about Schuldig's past, but he tactfully tucked the thought into the darkest recesses of his mind and hoped the telepath didn't catch it.
"So you let me bawl all over you then tucked me in and let me snuggle you like a security blanket?"
"Mutual snuggling, kitten. You were hurting last night and I chose to put you in my bed. Neither one of us took advantage of the other." Schuldig's smile turned suggestive and he tangled his fingers in Yohji's hair to pull the blond close. "But it's morning now."
He nibbled at the corner of Yohji's mouth and Yohji allowed their lips to brush in a chaste kiss, then he pulled back. Yohji looked intently into the telepath's blue eyes until he was satisfied with whatever he saw there. He pulled Schuldig in for another soft kiss, stroking the clinging waterfall of red hair then resolutely set the telepath away from him.
"I'm not going to lie to you, Schu, and tell you that I'm not attracted. I'm just not ready. I wouldn't want to jump into something if my head's not straight on the matter and I don't want to hurt you." Yohji laughed at himself. "Kudou Yohji turning down sex. The Gods must be laughing."
Schuldig wasn't laughing. He was staring at Yohji with something akin to puzzled fascination. Whatever the telepath was thinking, it quickened his breathing and pinked his cheeks. Yohji climbed from the bed and dropped a kiss on Schuldig's temple.
"Thanks for being there for me last night and thanks for keeping it between us. I'm going to my room to shower and change. Don't worry. I'll put fresh dressings on my hands. I guess it's my turn for cooking, so don't expect much. I think I can manage something passable although what you did for me last night deserves a gourmet meal," Yohji babbled.
"Anytime," Schuldig murmured, a dazed look on his face as Yohji left the room.
Yohji encountered Crawford in the hallway right outside Schuldig's door. The precognitive raised an eyebrow and Yohji blushed like a teenager caught sneaking in after curfew.
"It's not what you think," Yohji blurted defensively.
"I didn't ask," Crawford returned in a cool voice. "If something happened it would be your business."
"Um, yeah," Yohji mumbled and sped to his own room.
Crawford shook his head at the departing assassin and quietly opened his own door. Despite pain medications, Aya's well honed instincts had him opening his eyes immediately at the small sounds Crawford made.
"Brad?"
"Here." Crawford sat on the side of the bed and brushed aside the fall of red bangs to look at Aya's neck. "How does it feel?"
"Fine."
"I think you would argue that you were fine if you lost a limb and carried the bloody thing home."
Aya let loose a short laugh and threaded the fingers of their hands together. "I'll try to bitch and whine a little more."
Crawford lingered only a moment more before taking his coffee into his office where the laptop awaited. Aya sighed to himself and touched ginger fingertips to the bandage on his neck. Privately he admitted the gash stung viciously. Added to that, the still livid bruises he had been given in Japan still bloomed colorfully and ached if he let himself think about them. Aya stifled another sigh and climbed from the bed to shower himself.
Feeling somewhat better he descended to the kitchen to find his new old teammate standing outside the terrace doors smoking and nursing a mug of coffee. Aya cleared his throat to announce his presence and was surprised to see Yohji jump and blush a deep red clear to the roots of his hair.
"Ah, Aya. Morning." Yohji took a quick drag to cover his embarassment.
"You okay this morning, Yohji? You seem distracted and jumpy."
"I'm fine. Better. You?"
Aya frowned at Yohji and gestured impatiently for him to finish the cigarette and follow him back into the kitchen. Once inside the two assassins stared at one another, at a loss how to begin. Finally, Aya laid a gentle hand on Yohji's shoulder.
"I'm sorry your life with your wife was ruined," Aya said quietly.
Yohji's eyes widened and glistened wetly before he hardened his gaze. He placed his own hand over Aya's and squeezed then moved away from physical contact. Yohji swallowed more coffee, trying to find the words.
"Asuka deserved better," Yohji said so softly Aya nearly missed his first words. "I always felt in some part of my mind that I was cheating her, that I was using her to replace someone else. I think she could feel that. Sometimes I would catch her watching me and her face was always so sad. We weren't getting along very well. The day she was killed we were arguing and she had rushed ahead of me. If she hadn't whoever was waiting for me wouldn't have... She wouldn't have been..."
"Yohji."
Yohji shook his head and wrapped his arms around himself to ward off the remembered shock. Aya remained still until the blonde resumed speaking.
"She deserved better," Yohji repeated. "I can't do anything about that now, but I can see that the ones responsible for her death pay with their lives. It won't be enough, but it's something I can do."
Aya nodded. He knew better than anyone how empty Yohji's eventual revenge would leave him feeling, but he was unwilling to tamper with the vengeful crutch Yohji so obviously needed. Yohji looked strained and frayed to breaking. He watched as the blonde assassin beat back his pain and turned a small, patently false, smile on him.
"So, how did you come to join Schwarz? Given our history, I would think the last thing you would do is join with them. I'll give you that they have changed, or maybe we just never really knew them, but I don't remember you as someone willing to give them a chance."
Aya's smile was edged and self mocking.
"Bleeding to death alone in a foreign country is how they found me. I was marked, same as you. Crawford saw it, I suppose, and scooped me off the sidewalk. They offered me a place. I took it."
Yohji snorted at Aya's terse explanation. It was so typical of the man he remembered, and it was obviously only the bare bones of the matter. Rather than pick at Aya when he was holding on to his own painful revelations, Yohji let it all go except one question that nagged him.
"If Crawford saw the attack in a vision, why didn't he prevent you from getting injured in the first place?" Yohji asked.