Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ The Hits Keep Coming ❯ Chapter 17
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: KD Sarge 
Yohji's detective instincts finally check in.
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Hentai | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 08.24.2006 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.0K | Visits: 829 | Status: Work In Progress
Yohji's detective instincts finally check in.
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Hentai | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 08.24.2006 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.0K | Visits: 829 | Status: Work In Progress
For the chibi, in hopes she won’t disappear again anytime soon. And, always, for the delightful folks at Ass Anon who, while unable to keep me sane (that battle was lost long ago) may well be credited for keeping me from violence. Love you guys!!
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It took Yohji less than two minutes to get free, as Aya had probably realized. That didn’t make Yohji any less angry. It took him a good three minutes more to get cleaned up enough he could stand to button his jeans, the absolute minimum needed before he went and killed that gods-damned redheaded bastard son of a—
“Yohji-kun?” Omi said, looking up from putting several food samples on a plate. The Meep sat on the table being fluffy. “You’re bleeding?”
Bleed—oh. Yohji swiped at his cheek. “It’s not mine. Where’s Aya?”
Wide blue eyes followed the trail of blood down his chest, then went even wider and looked away. Great, Kudou, traumatize the chibi...
Aya. Kill Aya, deal with the rest later. Yohji debated going back and taking the Porsche apart so the bastard couldn’t run again, decided that wasn’t satisfying enough and took the stairs two at a time.
“He’s not there,” Ken said, wandering by playing a handheld video game and talking around his toothbrush as Yohji pounded at Aya’s door. “Went upstairs.”
Upstairs. To the gym, where he no doubt had his sword. Yohji was pissed, not suicidal. And suddenly tired as hell.
Which wasn’t odd at all, considering what he’d been through in the last twenty-four hours. Yohji took a long shower, ignoring Ken’s complaints at not being able to finish brushing his teeth. One day he would have them all convinced; they would stand united in demanding Kritiker install a second bathroom.
In the meantime Yohji went the hell to bed. And couldn’t sleep. He lay smoking in the dark, watching the shadows of one fluttering candle dance on the ceiling. Trying not to think of Aya. Because, damn it, his mind might be confused and his emotions in turmoil, but his body knew exactly what it wanted—and every time his body started reacting, the confusion elsewhere got worse.
He got up and locked the door.
Ten minutes later he unlocked it. Five minutes after that he put a chair in front of it. Seven minutes after that, he cleared all the laundry and other stuff on the path from the door to the bed. Six cigarettes, half a bottle of vodka and three attempts at reading after that, his next-door neighbor Omi started jumping on his bed. Damn. That caffeine still hadn’t worn off?
TV would help. Mindless entertainment was always a good option. Yohji threw on a yukata and stepped into the fluffy bunny slippers the chibi had given him and shuffled down to the living room. Which was right under the chibi’s bouncing bed. Now there were noises, too, the kid was watching one of those animal shows he liked. Turned all the way up. Yohji sighed and grabbed a couple beers and some pocky and went down to the mission room. The system was better down there anyway.
When he’d gone four times around the two-hundred-fifty channels and still found nothing, Yohji gave up and wandered back upstairs. But the caffeinated chibi was still going strong, so he kept walking. Found himself at Aya’s door without having thought about it. Picked the lock and curled up in the plain, hard, empty bed and finally, finally fell asleep.
Sunlight woke him far too early. Yohji groaned and buried his head under the pillow and wondered who the hell had stolen his curtains. He wriggled closer to the warm body next to him, obstinately ignored the insistent voice in his head telling him to wake the hell up, and tried really hard to get back to sleep. It wasn’t until the solid form next to him vanished that he realized why that voice was so determined, and before he could struggle out of the covers, the door had closed and he was alone.
Che. Yohji grabbed his yukata to go after the redhead, but changed his mind before he reached the door. Even if he could find the man, he wasn’t up to an encounter. Any kind of encounter, he told his body firmly. His body firmly disagreed. Yohji growled and stumbled his way to the shower and another date with his hand.
Omi was in the kitchen. He unaccountably blushed when Yohji came in. The blonde ignored him, heading for the coffeepot.
Had Omi made coffee? Or was it Aya?
Didn’t matter. Yohji poured himself a cup of life and sat at the table. Ken came in, and he blushed. Yohji checked his yukata was closed. It was. What the hell?
It wasn’t until his second cup that he noticed it was not him. Ken had a general air of surprise about him this morning. He would glance at Omi, and look away quickly and blush. Omi blushed frequently too, but when he wasn’t blushing, his mind was clearly far away and his face had a smug grin.
As Yohji poured his third cup, Smug Omi + Blushing Ken + Bouncing Bed added up to a total that staggered him. He set the pot down and turned to look at his teammates again. Ken coughed, choked, muttered something about soccer and ran. Omi blushed and bent over his plate, but not far enough to hide the grin. Yohji blinked a few more times, and a few more things added up. And in every equation...
Yes.
He needed to go shopping. He needed a Meep net, and Meep treats, and...
****
Reviews charge my writing batteries. Honest.
*******
It took Yohji less than two minutes to get free, as Aya had probably realized. That didn’t make Yohji any less angry. It took him a good three minutes more to get cleaned up enough he could stand to button his jeans, the absolute minimum needed before he went and killed that gods-damned redheaded bastard son of a—
“Yohji-kun?” Omi said, looking up from putting several food samples on a plate. The Meep sat on the table being fluffy. “You’re bleeding?”
Bleed—oh. Yohji swiped at his cheek. “It’s not mine. Where’s Aya?”
Wide blue eyes followed the trail of blood down his chest, then went even wider and looked away. Great, Kudou, traumatize the chibi...
Aya. Kill Aya, deal with the rest later. Yohji debated going back and taking the Porsche apart so the bastard couldn’t run again, decided that wasn’t satisfying enough and took the stairs two at a time.
“He’s not there,” Ken said, wandering by playing a handheld video game and talking around his toothbrush as Yohji pounded at Aya’s door. “Went upstairs.”
Upstairs. To the gym, where he no doubt had his sword. Yohji was pissed, not suicidal. And suddenly tired as hell.
Which wasn’t odd at all, considering what he’d been through in the last twenty-four hours. Yohji took a long shower, ignoring Ken’s complaints at not being able to finish brushing his teeth. One day he would have them all convinced; they would stand united in demanding Kritiker install a second bathroom.
In the meantime Yohji went the hell to bed. And couldn’t sleep. He lay smoking in the dark, watching the shadows of one fluttering candle dance on the ceiling. Trying not to think of Aya. Because, damn it, his mind might be confused and his emotions in turmoil, but his body knew exactly what it wanted—and every time his body started reacting, the confusion elsewhere got worse.
He got up and locked the door.
Ten minutes later he unlocked it. Five minutes after that he put a chair in front of it. Seven minutes after that, he cleared all the laundry and other stuff on the path from the door to the bed. Six cigarettes, half a bottle of vodka and three attempts at reading after that, his next-door neighbor Omi started jumping on his bed. Damn. That caffeine still hadn’t worn off?
TV would help. Mindless entertainment was always a good option. Yohji threw on a yukata and stepped into the fluffy bunny slippers the chibi had given him and shuffled down to the living room. Which was right under the chibi’s bouncing bed. Now there were noises, too, the kid was watching one of those animal shows he liked. Turned all the way up. Yohji sighed and grabbed a couple beers and some pocky and went down to the mission room. The system was better down there anyway.
When he’d gone four times around the two-hundred-fifty channels and still found nothing, Yohji gave up and wandered back upstairs. But the caffeinated chibi was still going strong, so he kept walking. Found himself at Aya’s door without having thought about it. Picked the lock and curled up in the plain, hard, empty bed and finally, finally fell asleep.
Sunlight woke him far too early. Yohji groaned and buried his head under the pillow and wondered who the hell had stolen his curtains. He wriggled closer to the warm body next to him, obstinately ignored the insistent voice in his head telling him to wake the hell up, and tried really hard to get back to sleep. It wasn’t until the solid form next to him vanished that he realized why that voice was so determined, and before he could struggle out of the covers, the door had closed and he was alone.
Che. Yohji grabbed his yukata to go after the redhead, but changed his mind before he reached the door. Even if he could find the man, he wasn’t up to an encounter. Any kind of encounter, he told his body firmly. His body firmly disagreed. Yohji growled and stumbled his way to the shower and another date with his hand.
Omi was in the kitchen. He unaccountably blushed when Yohji came in. The blonde ignored him, heading for the coffeepot.
Had Omi made coffee? Or was it Aya?
Didn’t matter. Yohji poured himself a cup of life and sat at the table. Ken came in, and he blushed. Yohji checked his yukata was closed. It was. What the hell?
It wasn’t until his second cup that he noticed it was not him. Ken had a general air of surprise about him this morning. He would glance at Omi, and look away quickly and blush. Omi blushed frequently too, but when he wasn’t blushing, his mind was clearly far away and his face had a smug grin.
As Yohji poured his third cup, Smug Omi + Blushing Ken + Bouncing Bed added up to a total that staggered him. He set the pot down and turned to look at his teammates again. Ken coughed, choked, muttered something about soccer and ran. Omi blushed and bent over his plate, but not far enough to hide the grin. Yohji blinked a few more times, and a few more things added up. And in every equation...
Yes.
He needed to go shopping. He needed a Meep net, and Meep treats, and...
****
Reviews charge my writing batteries. Honest.