Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Yohji Kudou, International Man of Parody ❯ The morning after ( Chapter 7 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Ann H 
The morning after the night before. Or, friends don't let other friends pick out their clothes.
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Hentai / Comedy | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 01.29.2003 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.1K | Visits: 478 | Status: Work In Progress
The morning after the night before. Or, friends don't let other friends pick out their clothes.
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Hentai / Comedy | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 01.29.2003 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.1K | Visits: 478 | Status: Work In Progress
Title: Yohji Kudou, International Man of Parody
Author: Ann
Rating: R. Yaoi, baby, yeah!
Pairings: It would spoil the fun to tell you; from the title, you can assume Yohji gets some. Male/male situations, though mostly implied. Be adult or be gone.
Notes: Parody/fusion of the Austin Powers films and of Weiss Kreuz. Austin Powers characters belong to the very funny Mike Myers, Michael McCullers and New Line Cinema. Weiss Kreuz characters belong to Takehito Koyasu and Project Weiss. This is fan fiction, and no profit is made from this endeavor. Parody is a long-standing, protected form of free speech.
*emphasis*
//song lyrics//
~telepathy~
#thoughts#
Warnings: Bizarre and lame humor. OCC? Of course! Character bashing? Yes, but just in fun... well, mostly. ::snickers:: Character deaths, bad language, bad puns, just... bad.
Feedback: Feedback would be greatly appreciated at Ann89103@lvcm.com.
Archive: Ask and you shall receive.
***
Yohji sighed dreamily as his fingers wove even deeper through glossy red-orange strands. The stimulating touch of lips and tongue and hair on bared skin were unbearable, yet not nearly enough. He whimpered, pushing his tormentor lower, desperate for release, needing those tender lips on his aching--
"Yohji, wake up! Let go of my hair, dammit!"
Yohji was in a sitting position before he was truly awake. He blinked in confusion, staring at the stray golden strands of hair left in his hands before noting the unhappy Omi sprawled on the floor next to Yohji's futon.
"What are you doing down there, bishounen?" the spy asked.
"I was trying to wake you up, you pervert!" was the snapped response, "Then you pushed me into a very *uncomfortable* position, before knocking me to the ground. We need to be at the hotel in less than an hour, so get up!"
##I never have any problems getting up! Anyone who says otherwise is a liar!!##
~I'm very happy to hear that, Kudou.~
~Schu?~
~The only and only, sweets.~
~Where are you?~
~In the guest bathroom, making myself all pretty for you... well, actually putting on my disguise, but it's all the same thing, yes?~
~Yeah, baby, yeah. Something smashing, then, I take it?~
~You got that right. Though I think we'll have more fun taking it off later.~
Suddenly two hands were waved in front of Yohji's face. "Get moving!" Yohji's boss exclaimed. "Your clothing for today is in the bathroom. I'll do your hair once you're dressed."
Noting the sudden gleam in Omi's eyes, Yohji remembered his comments from the night before, regarding his chosen disguise. It was with trepidation that Yohji approached his bathroom, not eager to see what fashion sense his employer displayed.
After all, the man running Kritiker had an unfortunate penchant for pastels and little boy shorts!
The trepidation turned into out-and-out horror at the fabrics that lay draped on the counter. Black parachute pants; a white T-shirt emblazoned with "Frankie says relax" in black lettering; and a cream-colored linen jacket.
"Omi!"
"Just put them on, Kudou."
Yohji tore his eyes away from the hated clothing, only then noticing the blessedly normal black socks on the floor; sadly, next to them was a pair of Addidas sneakers, mostly black with bits of white and red, and a package of underwear that had fallen from the counter.
Yohji staggered; only grabbing onto the shower rod kept him from falling to the floor completely. Everyone in the apartment, everyone in the *building* heard the furious, anguished cry:
"I can't believe you got me Underoos!"
***
Yohji never felt this way before: so defeated, embarrassed, ashamed. And that was before he let the others see him in his disguise. Omi immediately fell to the floor, lost in gales of hysterical laughter. Yohji blushed from shame, awaiting the same humiliating response from his German partner, but instead stood there, stunned, as he tried to comprehend the vision of sexiness that walked into his bedroom.
She was beautiful.
Shoulder-length ash blond hair, curls and waves flipped back, framing a face dominated by bright eyes and wide, sensual lips. Light makeup graced perfect bone structure, primarily mascara, blush and lip gloss.
Yohji noted the perfume, light and sweet, as his eyes lowered to take in her body, slim and shapely in all the right places, perfectly proportioned. She wore a black long-sleeved body suit with matching black calf-length boots. A red skirt with a floral-pattern was wrapped around her waist, falling to mid-calf and providing a hint of modesty to the otherwise blatantly seductive outfit.
~See anything you like? By the way, the perfume is Charlie. What kind of name is that for a woman?~
~S-schu?~
~Larger than life. You can take the boy out of the assassin, but you can't take the assassin out of the girl. Omi really has it in for you, doesn't he, my lovely eighties flashback?~
Yohji shuddered, then decided to get back to business. The sooner their assignment was done, the sooner he could take off those horrendous clothes. And Schu could take of his... bra.
Suddenly, things were looking up.
"Let's get moving, gang!" Yohji said as he moved to exit the bedroom, "We've got work to do!"
Omi hurried over to Yohji, one arm reaching out to hold the spy back. "Wait, Yohji, your disguise isn't done yet. We still have to do your hair!"
Yohji shrugged off the restraining arm. "No-one does *anything* to my hair, Omi. Cutting my glorious locks would be a crime against humanity."
Omi smiled. "Then, you won't object to wearing a wig, right?"
Yohji knew his boss well enough; there was no good answer to that question, it was a matter of bad or worse. So he choose the lesser of two evils: "Okay, boss, bring on the wig. Anything to save my beauty."
Omi lifted the wig from a box hidden behind him. From a distance, it didn't look too bad. The hair was a true strawberry blonde, blending gold and red. The wig appeared to fall just below shoulder-length, curlier on the top, straight the rest of the way.
Yohji leaned down so Omi could position the wig. After a few minutes making sure the piece was set, Omi stepped back, both he and Schuldig scrutinizing the results.
The matching wide smiles that they sported alerted Yohji to the probable horror he would experience upon viewing the results. He slowly turned to the full-length mirror that lined one closet.
Once again, Yohji's wail could be heard throughout the building.
"You got me a mullet! Omi, once this mission is done, I will dedicate my life to ruining yours!" (1)
"Work now, threaten later," his boss replied, heading towards the door, "first we take out Schwarz."
***
(1) Confused? Learn more about mullets! Visit www.mulletjunky.com Be warned, I will not hold myself responsible for any psychological trauma that may occur from visiting that site.
Author: Ann
Rating: R. Yaoi, baby, yeah!
Pairings: It would spoil the fun to tell you; from the title, you can assume Yohji gets some. Male/male situations, though mostly implied. Be adult or be gone.
Notes: Parody/fusion of the Austin Powers films and of Weiss Kreuz. Austin Powers characters belong to the very funny Mike Myers, Michael McCullers and New Line Cinema. Weiss Kreuz characters belong to Takehito Koyasu and Project Weiss. This is fan fiction, and no profit is made from this endeavor. Parody is a long-standing, protected form of free speech.
*emphasis*
//song lyrics//
~telepathy~
#thoughts#
Warnings: Bizarre and lame humor. OCC? Of course! Character bashing? Yes, but just in fun... well, mostly. ::snickers:: Character deaths, bad language, bad puns, just... bad.
Feedback: Feedback would be greatly appreciated at Ann89103@lvcm.com.
Archive: Ask and you shall receive.
***
Yohji sighed dreamily as his fingers wove even deeper through glossy red-orange strands. The stimulating touch of lips and tongue and hair on bared skin were unbearable, yet not nearly enough. He whimpered, pushing his tormentor lower, desperate for release, needing those tender lips on his aching--
"Yohji, wake up! Let go of my hair, dammit!"
Yohji was in a sitting position before he was truly awake. He blinked in confusion, staring at the stray golden strands of hair left in his hands before noting the unhappy Omi sprawled on the floor next to Yohji's futon.
"What are you doing down there, bishounen?" the spy asked.
"I was trying to wake you up, you pervert!" was the snapped response, "Then you pushed me into a very *uncomfortable* position, before knocking me to the ground. We need to be at the hotel in less than an hour, so get up!"
##I never have any problems getting up! Anyone who says otherwise is a liar!!##
~I'm very happy to hear that, Kudou.~
~Schu?~
~The only and only, sweets.~
~Where are you?~
~In the guest bathroom, making myself all pretty for you... well, actually putting on my disguise, but it's all the same thing, yes?~
~Yeah, baby, yeah. Something smashing, then, I take it?~
~You got that right. Though I think we'll have more fun taking it off later.~
Suddenly two hands were waved in front of Yohji's face. "Get moving!" Yohji's boss exclaimed. "Your clothing for today is in the bathroom. I'll do your hair once you're dressed."
Noting the sudden gleam in Omi's eyes, Yohji remembered his comments from the night before, regarding his chosen disguise. It was with trepidation that Yohji approached his bathroom, not eager to see what fashion sense his employer displayed.
After all, the man running Kritiker had an unfortunate penchant for pastels and little boy shorts!
The trepidation turned into out-and-out horror at the fabrics that lay draped on the counter. Black parachute pants; a white T-shirt emblazoned with "Frankie says relax" in black lettering; and a cream-colored linen jacket.
"Omi!"
"Just put them on, Kudou."
Yohji tore his eyes away from the hated clothing, only then noticing the blessedly normal black socks on the floor; sadly, next to them was a pair of Addidas sneakers, mostly black with bits of white and red, and a package of underwear that had fallen from the counter.
Yohji staggered; only grabbing onto the shower rod kept him from falling to the floor completely. Everyone in the apartment, everyone in the *building* heard the furious, anguished cry:
"I can't believe you got me Underoos!"
***
Yohji never felt this way before: so defeated, embarrassed, ashamed. And that was before he let the others see him in his disguise. Omi immediately fell to the floor, lost in gales of hysterical laughter. Yohji blushed from shame, awaiting the same humiliating response from his German partner, but instead stood there, stunned, as he tried to comprehend the vision of sexiness that walked into his bedroom.
She was beautiful.
Shoulder-length ash blond hair, curls and waves flipped back, framing a face dominated by bright eyes and wide, sensual lips. Light makeup graced perfect bone structure, primarily mascara, blush and lip gloss.
Yohji noted the perfume, light and sweet, as his eyes lowered to take in her body, slim and shapely in all the right places, perfectly proportioned. She wore a black long-sleeved body suit with matching black calf-length boots. A red skirt with a floral-pattern was wrapped around her waist, falling to mid-calf and providing a hint of modesty to the otherwise blatantly seductive outfit.
~See anything you like? By the way, the perfume is Charlie. What kind of name is that for a woman?~
~S-schu?~
~Larger than life. You can take the boy out of the assassin, but you can't take the assassin out of the girl. Omi really has it in for you, doesn't he, my lovely eighties flashback?~
Yohji shuddered, then decided to get back to business. The sooner their assignment was done, the sooner he could take off those horrendous clothes. And Schu could take of his... bra.
Suddenly, things were looking up.
"Let's get moving, gang!" Yohji said as he moved to exit the bedroom, "We've got work to do!"
Omi hurried over to Yohji, one arm reaching out to hold the spy back. "Wait, Yohji, your disguise isn't done yet. We still have to do your hair!"
Yohji shrugged off the restraining arm. "No-one does *anything* to my hair, Omi. Cutting my glorious locks would be a crime against humanity."
Omi smiled. "Then, you won't object to wearing a wig, right?"
Yohji knew his boss well enough; there was no good answer to that question, it was a matter of bad or worse. So he choose the lesser of two evils: "Okay, boss, bring on the wig. Anything to save my beauty."
Omi lifted the wig from a box hidden behind him. From a distance, it didn't look too bad. The hair was a true strawberry blonde, blending gold and red. The wig appeared to fall just below shoulder-length, curlier on the top, straight the rest of the way.
Yohji leaned down so Omi could position the wig. After a few minutes making sure the piece was set, Omi stepped back, both he and Schuldig scrutinizing the results.
The matching wide smiles that they sported alerted Yohji to the probable horror he would experience upon viewing the results. He slowly turned to the full-length mirror that lined one closet.
Once again, Yohji's wail could be heard throughout the building.
"You got me a mullet! Omi, once this mission is done, I will dedicate my life to ruining yours!" (1)
"Work now, threaten later," his boss replied, heading towards the door, "first we take out Schwarz."
***
(1) Confused? Learn more about mullets! Visit www.mulletjunky.com Be warned, I will not hold myself responsible for any psychological trauma that may occur from visiting that site.