"Shoot me. Just shoot me now."

Ken had to smile. "I'm not carrying a gun, Yoji. How about some pain pills instead?" He rattled the bottle in his hand.

A muffled groan was his only answer. Yoji was a lump under his blankets, only the back of his head and one hunched shoulder visible.

Shaking his head, Ken walked over to the bed, placing the glass of water he was carrying on the small table, then unscrewing the bottle lid.

"Come on. It's time for you to take your pills."

"Aah, Ken. You're so mean..." Yoji drawled, rolling over onto his side with a whimper.

"Is that any way to talk to the man who's offering you some much-needed medication?" Ken asked brutally, shaking free a few pills.

Yoji didn't answer, scrubbing at his face and blinking blearily. He seemed to be eyeing his window, where the fiery glow of the sun was sliding in through his cracked blinds.

"Na, Ken. What time is it?"

"Five p.m." Ken helped Yoji gingerly into a sitting position then handed the older man his water.

"Five...." Yoji angled a narrow look at his smirking teammate. "What day?"

Ken gaze met Yoji's green gaze forthrightly, though his own brown eyes were twinkling. "Tuesday."

"Ugh!" Yoji grimaced, slumping forward. "Wasn't the concert on a Saturday night...?"

"Ken." Aya's deep utterance fell flatly in from the doorway. "Stop toying with a wounded man's mind."

"Whaaa~t?" Ken held his hands spread before him, trying and failing to look innocent.

"Out." Aya thrust a thumb over his shoulder, violet eyes sharp.

"Ch'! You're no fun." Ken slouched his way past the redhead.

"Sometimes I wonder about your sense of humor," Aya muttered, giving his teammate a dark look.

"Just 'cause I have one.... Yipe!"

Ken cut and ran before Aya's foot could find its way to slamming into his rear. With a sound of disgust, Aya closed the door to Yoji's room, then, drawing a deep breath, he faced the man he'd been avoiding all day. Although, Yoji had slept through 'til evening, so it hadn't been all that difficult.

"So it's really only Sunday?" Yoji asked pitifully. He had his head bowed to one hand. Aya was glad that he did not have to meet those sleepy emerald eyes yet, even though he was not happy that Yoji was in so much pain.

"Of course. Don't let Ken confuse you."

Yoji sighed softly, a small huff from between parted lips.

"Omi's cooking dinner," Aya offered, crossing the room on reluctant feet. But he had entered now, and there was no turning back. Besides, he had spent the rest of the shattered morning and all afternoon tying himself up in knots over what he had done, and Yoji's reaction to it... he wanted to face things and get them resolved. He was not a man who liked mysteries.

"I don't think I feel much like eating," Yoji groaned, raising his head as Aya sat gingerly on the edge of his bed. "I hurt too much to have any appetite."

"Just wait until the pills kick in," Aya counseled sagely. "You have to eat. You need to keep your strength up if you're going to heal."

"I know, I know." Yoji fumbled at the bedside table for his cigarette pack. "But saying it doesn't make me feel better."

When the lanky brunette had some major difficulty lighting his smoke up with shaking hands, Aya took both the cigarette and the lighter from him. He didn't allow himself to think as he placed the filter between his lips, sparked the lighter and took the first drag before transferring the cigarette to Yoji's own mouth. After all, he'd kissed the man only a few hours before -- how was an indirect kiss worse? And yet, somehow, it seemed even more intimate.

Yoji mumbled something that might have been a thanks, heavy lids falling down to hide his gaze from Aya as he exhaled smoke.

Aya sat, silent and stiff, unprepared to speak and yet with no desire to leave the room until he had done so. If only he knew what it was that he wanted to say.... But he was uncertain in his own mind what it was he wanted from Yoji. He didn't want to risk losing the man as his friend, and yet he thought... he thought... he thought that maybe he wanted... more. He thought that maybe he wanted what Ken and Omi had.

Someone to hold, someone who could hold him. Someone who knew what he was and what he had done and who understood... someone who had been and done the same. There was no one else who could understand. Not the way that Yoji could.

And it wasn't only this he desired from Yoji. He had done a lot of thinking in the last nine or ten hours. It had been difficult for him to admit to himself, having spent so long in denial, but he was... attracted to Yoji.

He had always masked it, even from himself, covering his emotions with irritation and occasional aggression. But from the first he had realized that Yoji was a strange and beautiful creature. With his lean limbs, seemingly all angles, but so graceful in motion or in repose, his soft emerald eyes and chestnut curls, his almost feminine features.... Yoji was lovely, and Aya had been aware of this almost from the first.

This was one of the things that he had suppressed and ignored in his quest for vengeance against Takatori. And then there had been Schreient, Schwarz, Este.... Each had taken a turn at keeping Aya-chan from him, keeping him in suspense as to her safety, keeping him off kilter and unable to concentrate on anything else. There had not been time to think or feel, barely time to breathe, in those final days before they had fallen into the sea and had defied death to return to Weiss.

After all that, after Aya-chan had awakened, after all his ties to his past life had been severed and he might have allowed himself to move on and to take some happiness for his own, it had become such a deeply ingrained habit to deny his desire for Yoji and to keep the man at a distance that he found himself doing so unconsciously, without meaning to.

Breaking this pattern was going to be difficult. But Aya thought that it might just be worth the effort.

He couldn't have said he loved Yoji; not the way that Ken and Omi loved each other. And yet, could he say that he did not love Yoji? He wanted to protect him and see him smile freely. He felt the same warmth whenever Yoji paid him any particular, special attention that he had felt when he and Aya-chan had spent time together. This was in part why he had always been so brusque -- it had felt like a betrayal of his emotions for his sister.

But now Aya-chan was beyond his reach, and Yoji was right here. And if Yoji's defenses had been lowered by his wounds and the pain medicine, then his words to Aya might have been the truth.

That was one of the most frightening things of all.

Aya didn't want to admit that he loved Yoji. He refused to think the word in his head. But he and Yoji were friends, they understood one another, he enjoyed spending time with the other man and wished to continue to do so. He found Yoji sexually attractive and wanted to develop a physical relationship, if Yoji was amenable....

Maybe this wasn't love, but it was something that he could work with. If only he could get up the courage to say something.

He only prayed that he had not misunderstood, and that Yoji felt something even close to the same thing. At least he could be fairly certain that Yoji had not been toying with him. Barriers had been dropped this morning... and besides, Yoji had to know that Aya would kill him if he had been trying to mess with him in any way.

"Did Kritiker get anything out of that guy who attacked Yuki and Shindou?" Yoji finally asked, rubbing sleepily at his eyes with his free hand.

"Nothing we didn't already know," Aya answered with a small shrug. He welcomed the distraction, while knowing at the same time that he was simply postponing the inevitable. "But we did find out that he was the last of the Slashers. We shouldn't have any more trouble from that group."

"Good." Yoji's expression was pensive, his gaze fixed on the window. "I'm sure all of us can sleep more soundly knowing that. It's just too bad that Yuki and Shindou got involved."

"They did well, though," Aya offered, without any reluctance. He'd been won over in spite of himself, even though he still thought that Yuki was a jerk and Shindou was obnoxious. "Very well for a novelist and a rock idol."

Yoji chuckled, then winced, clutching at his ribs. "Shit. I really fucked up."

Aya sighed. "Let it go, Yoji. No one expects you to be perfect. What about Ken? If Omi hadn't talked him into wearing a bulletproof vest when he went to confront Kase...."

"Yeah." Yoji perked up a little. "You're right. And, besides, it's not as though I haven't paid for my lapse."

Aya grinned humorlessly. "Aa."

"Na, Aya...." Yoji paused, his emerald eyes darkening.

Aya drew in a breath, bracing himself. "Aa?" This was why he had come into Yoji's bedroom, after all. He didn't want to leave things unresolved between the two of them... but telling himself this did nothing to calm the twisting feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Aya," Yoji turned his face toward his teammate, crushing out his cigarette in the ashtray beside the bed. "Would you kiss me again?"

The redhead stared blankly, trying to process the request. His mind simply refused for long moments, and once the words had sunk in, he felt a burst of unexpected irritation. Why was it always Yoji who was the bold one, the one who made the advances? Why? Aya was usually the one to plunge recklessly ahead; on missions, at least. Why was this situation so different?

And yet, never in his wildest dreams would he have thought to hear those words from Yoji's lips, even though they were the same lips he had spontaneously kissed earlier in the day. At least *that* had been his own idea. At least this morning he had acted *first*... even though he had been acting without thinking.

Meeting that deep leaf-green gaze forthrightly, Aya fought to prevent his own violet eyes from hardening. Yoji deserved better than that, after proving himself willing to take the next step, which Aya himself had not been certain he was brave enough to take. Yoji's emerald eyes were wide and unexpectedly vulnerable, and Aya wanted to reward him with like openness.

Reaching forward slowly, as though Yoji might shy away at any moment, Aya cupped that smooth oval face in his hands, his palms warm against the firm lines of Yoji's jaw.

"I'll kiss you," he replied quietly. "But I'm doing it because I want to, not because you asked me to."

Yoji's mouth twisted in a small smile, his eyes lightening. "That's the way I wanted it, Aya," he said, tilting his chin upwards.

Any further words were cut off as Aya's lips closed over his, this kiss neither light nor hesitant. Yoji's mouth tasted of cigarettes and rusty blood and too much sleep. But his lips were lush and warm under Aya's and his tongue twined about the other man's in a sensuous welcome. There was skill in this kiss, true, but there was also emotion; honest emotion.

In the raw truth of this moment, Aya was able to set aside worries and admit to what he wanted. *This* was what he wanted, and now that he had gotten a taste, he wasn't going to give it up for *anything*. Especially not intangible concerns such as "what if" or "someday".

With a sexy little murmur that Aya thought was real and not feigned, Yoji hitched closer, drawing Aya further into the kiss, opening himself more fully to the other man. Although they were only merged at the mouths, this was one of the most intimate experiences Aya had ever had.

And, of course, it was only getting good when....

"Aya-kun, Yoji-kun! Dinner is-- eep!"

Yoji loosed a weary chuckle as Aya turned a violet glare of doom toward the blushing blonde in the doorway.

"Next. Time. Knock," Aya grated out, more irritated at having been interrupted than he was embarrassed at being caught out. His lips were tingling from the pressure and friction of Yoji's kiss, and the flavor of the other man wrapped itself silkily around his tongue, a teasing reminder of what he had been wrenched from too soon.

"Sorry, Aya-kun." Omi strove to look apologetic, even though his eyes were sparkling, his entire face glowing, and he seemed to be fighting a wide grin. "But dinner *is* ready."

"I'll be out in a moment," Aya said shortly.

Behind him, Yoji had collapsed back against his pillows, and probably the only thing stopping him from laughing was the fact of his cracked ribs.

"All right," Omi said cheerfully enough, turning to leave. He paused a long moment in the doorway, however, his face turned to the hall, but his body still half in the bedroom.

"What?" Aya asked, trying not to bark the question.

Omi swung back around, his hands coming up to rest on his hips, his head tilted to one side.

"It took you two long enough! Honestly!"

After this exasperated exclamation, the young man darted out, closing the door silently behind him.

Aya glowered at the wooden surface for a moment, before relaxing with a heavy sigh. At least Omi, unlike Ken, had a measure of discretion, some tact. He wouldn't tease them, and if they were lucky, he wouldn't inform his lover of what he had just walked in on.

"Should I apologize again?" Yoji asked, sounding amused and not at all contrite.

Aya skewered him with a searing glare. "If you do, I'll break every one of your remaining sound ribs," he answered calmly.

"Hai, hai! I get it!" Yoji lost the battle to keep the corners of his mouth from curving upward. His eyes were shining as brightly as Omi's had been -- though in a different way -- and he seemed on the verge of laughter. It struck Aya that Yoji was feeling giddy with the relief of having gotten something off of his mind; probably the discovery that Aya had been not only willing but eager to kiss him again upon request.

Or maybe it was just the pain medication kicking in.

"Between you and Omi, I'm starting to feel as though I've been missing something," Aya complained, giving Yoji a quizzical look. "Have you been throwing yourself at me all along without me noticing?"

"No." Yoji smiled softly, his eyes warm with something Aya could only label as affection. "Not obviously, anyway. I don't know why Omi said that. What I said this morning.... I guess that was more in response to my own feelings than anything else. I don't know. It just seemed like the right thing to say at the time. I wanted to let you know that I didn't mind, that I liked it. You know?"

Aya had to grin a little at the helplessness in Yoji's voice. There were some things that just couldn't be explained. His feelings for Yoji was one of those things. Perhaps it had been a long, inevitable slide; especially judging by Omi's words. It had just taken him until today to truly face his emotions.

Even though it had felt like a revelation... it really hadn't been.

And the discovery that Yoji felt the same way about him was maybe the most amazing thing of all.

"Now, where were we?" Yoji was asking, his voice a sultry purr, heavy lids falling down over hazy emerald eyes.

Aya reached out to brush his knuckles over the plushy swell of Yoji's lips. "I was going to go and get you a tray," he said, not without regret. But Yoji was too badly hurt to attempt more than the one kiss, no matter that he might argue. "And then you're going to eat dinner."

Yoji's lower lip jutted out in something that could only be termed a pout, never mind that he was well past too old for such expressions. "Will you eat with me?" however, was all he asked.

"Of course." Aya hadn't thought that this would be in question.

Yoji cheered up a little at this promise and made no further protest as Aya left the room to collect their meal. Ken didn't burst into hysterical laughter when the redhead entered the kitchen, and he took this as a good sign, although he couldn't resist shooting Omi a warning glance. This was met with a perfectly innocent, disingenuous expression and Aya retreated, feeling for some strange reason as though he had been defeated.

"I feel like an invalid," Yoji complained as he ate. The pain medication had kicked in, as promised, and he packed his food away with gusto, his hands only shaking a little bit.

"Well, you are," Aya responded quizzically. "For another couple of days, at least."

Yoji growled, but Aya ignored him. Stubborn as he was, Yoji couldn't argue with reality. If Ken had to sit on him, he'd stay in this bed until he was well on his way to mending.

On second thought, Aya didn't want anyone other than himself sitting on Yoji -- especially not Ken!

"Aya, you okay?" Yoji blinked sleepily at him through mussy bangs. "You've got a funny look on your face."

"I'm fine," Aya answered shortly. That sudden surge of possessiveness had startled him... but it didn't feel wrong.

Yoji shrugged slightly and they finished their meal in companionable silence.

Omi came in after a while to collect the tray of empty dishes. He didn't knock, but Aya didn't really care. Although he did get up and make sure Yoji's door was closed and locked behind their youngest teammate after he exited. Aya had some things to discuss with Yoji, and he didn't need any more interruptions.

Aya thought that Yoji might have an after-meal smoke, and that he might be able to bum a cigarette off of his friend to help soothe his tattered nerves. But Yoji didn't seem so inclined, simply leaning back and staring thoughtfully up at the ceiling. It was probably just as well, Aya decided. After all, his image in Yoji's eyes had already been completely altered. Best not to spring yet another surprise on a wounded, weak man.

Sitting himself back down on the edge of the bed, he found those lazy emerald eyes fixed on his face with startling intensity.

"Na, Aya...."

"If you're going to ask me to kiss you again, the answer is no."

"No, I wasn't going to-- What?" Yoji looked torn between anger and hurt. "Why not?"

"Because you've been wounded and you're still recovering." Aya allowed a little of his emotions to bleed through his normally hard expression, his voice rueful. "It's not that I don't want to...."

"Oh. That's okay, then." Yoji sat back, letting out a relieved breath. His brow knotted. "But you know, you don't have to treat me as though I'm made of glass, Aya. I'll be fine."

"I know." Aya reached over and clasped one of Yoji's hands in his, feeling the warmth of the other man. If things had gone badly in the warehouse, he might never have experienced this warmth... that thought still stung a little. "You *will* be. But right now you need to rest and recover."

Yoji pulled a face, but when even shifting on his mattress hurt, he couldn't very well argue.

"What was it you were going to say?" Aya asked, bringing Yoji's hand up and brushing his lips against the knuckles.

Yoji's eyes kindled with desire and Aya felt a rush of answering heat as Yoji's tongue flickered out to run over his lips. It seemed that once these reactions had been turned on, they were not going to be easy to put away. At the same time they clarified for Aya what he wanted. And it was more simple than his tortured maunderings had led him to think, earlier in the day.

"I wanted to know... what *this* means," Yoji said, twitching his hand within Aya's. His brows were drawn up in the center, his eyes wide and dark, silently asking that he not be rejected. Although he kept his voice carefully light, there was a world of anxiety and uncertainty in those liquid green depths. "Are we.... What are we? I'm not asking for.... But, I mean, we can't just go back to the way we were before, can we? We're not going to... are we?"

Aya fought the urge to smile, knowing that Yoji would be likely to take it in the wrong way. He was being a little bit silly, but Aya couldn't tell him so. Or, rather, he could, but he chose not to. He didn't want to say anything negative, since the two were still on shaky footing.

Instead, even though he had said that he wouldn't, he leaned forward and kissed Yoji again.

Need was immediate. Desire was easy to understand. Aya might be hurt, or he might be the one to do the hurting, but he had been wounded before and had survived. He was strong inside, not fragile. And that strength, it would seem, was what Yoji needed.

Besides, as much of a risk as this might be, it was a risk that Aya was willing to take. Because sometimes there was something that was worth any danger.

He kept it soft and gentle, pulling back when Yoji would have pressed for more. Because Yoji was still wounded, and anything further would have been too much.

"No. Things won't go back to the way they were before," he said firmly. "I'm not sure what will happen, but I can promise you that. We'll have to figure it out as we go along. I've never been in a real relationship before, though. I'm not sure I won't hurt you." This was an almost painfully personal admission in itself, and it frightened Aya how easy it was to make to Yoji.

Yoji's face relaxed, but there was still something dark in his eyes. "We're both damaged, Aya," he spoke, his voice low but clear. "We can't be perfect for each other, but we can be *here* for each other. And we've proved we can take more than our share of heartache... so what's the risk of more?"

Aya frowned. "I don't like that it sounds as if you can't trust me."

Yoji smiled tremulously. "It's myself I don't trust. I can't trust myself not to fuck this up." He spoke the words breathlessly, his hand shaking slightly were it was still clasped in Aya's gentle grip. "I haven't been in a relationship before either; not a real, complete one."

This, Aya understood. No matter what Ken or Omi might have thought, Yoji had never been more than a friend and partner to Asuka, not realizing his feelings for the woman until it had been too late. Ever since then he had seemed afraid to commit, to allow himself to fall in love again. But Aya was different. Aya was strong, and he wasn't going to die on Yoji. At least he certainly had no intention of doing so.

Aya still wasn't comfortable thinking the word "love", and he had no intention of making assumptions where Yoji's emotions were concerned. For now it was enough that they seemed to be on pretty much the same wavelength.

"Well, like I said... we'll figure it out as we go along," he said, squeezing Yoji's hand carefully. "I'm not even sure what we have... but I know that first and foremost, I consider you to be my friend. And I don't want to lose that, for any reason."

"Really?" Yoji's face it up almost as brightly as Shindou's. "We're friends, Aya?"

Aya scowled, nonplussed that Yoji had to ask. And yet, he had to admit that he had never acted very warmly toward Yoji. Well, that was something that he intended to rectify.

"Of course."

Yoji relaxed back onto his pillows, smiling happily. "That's good to hear. Makes this whole mess worthwhile."

"Just don't go getting yourself almost killed again," Aya said harshly, though his thumb was gentle where it smoothed over the palm of Yoji's captive hand. "Next time there might not be a teenaged rock idol around to save your ass."

Yoji glared at his teammate. "You're my friend too, Aya," he said. "But sometimes I don't like you very much."

Aya grinned. It was as much in relief and pleasure as amusement. Things had changed, his entire world revolving around him to assume a new reality, but there was still familiar ground under his feet.

****

Aya slid a last yellow blossom into the arrangement he was working on and set it aside with a sigh.

Manx hadn't given them any missions since they had clashed with the Slashers. He wasn't sure if this was because she knew it would be a struggle to keep a still-healing Yoji from joining his teammates, or whether it meant that the world was becoming a better place.

Most likely the former, Aya had to admit, and he wholeheartedly agreed with the reasoning. Without tying Yoji to his bed, it would have been impossible to keep him from participating in their missions. As soon as the lanky brunette could rise from bed unaided he had been back to work in the flower shop, despite Aya and Omi's best efforts.

Aya glanced over at Yoji, feeling that peculiar mixture of affection and exasperation that the man so often roused in him. Yoji was fetching something down from a shelf, which pleased Aya, since it indicated to him that Yoji's ribs were well on their way to mending.

Things were slowly beginning to relax into a comfortable understanding between the two of them. Clearly, sex had been out of the question until Yoji healed. Even if Yoji might have pushed for it, Aya hadn't felt ready, and had been grateful for the time he had been granted. He had first needed to come to grips with admitting Yoji as a friend and more before he was ready for further intimacy. They had found time to kiss, quite often, and as Yoji healed Aya learned that he loved cuddling, but a lot of their time was spent in talking.

Aya hadn't known it could be so rewarding, conversing with someone about whatever came to mind; history, music, flowers.... All those books in Yoji's room were not just for show, and while the two of them didn't always see eye to eye, there wasn't any subject Aya could raise that Yoji didn't have some opinion on.

Turning with a pot in his hands and catching Aya's gaze on him, Yoji winked. Aya averted his gaze quickly, biting back a smile. Not in the shop....

Their female customers had noticed the changes, though they were more confused by them than anything else. Yoji had virtually given up flirting, although he was still polite and courteous. Aya had informed him that he didn't care if he continued to flirt, but Yoji had said in almost an off-hand manner that he didn't feel like it anymore. This had warmed Aya to his core, as much as he hadn't wanted to admit to it. As for Aya, he had lightened up, ever so slightly. While he was not really more approachable, he was at least less abrasive. Yoji had let it be known that he approved of the changes, while at the same time letting Aya know he did not assume that he was the cause.

It was as though they were tip-toeing around each other, skirting the real issue. Things had been awkward and confusing at first... but they were getting better. Aya was starting to get comfortable with the idea that he had a say in what Yoji did or didn't do, and Yoji seemed to be coming to realize that he had more of a claim over Aya than he had at first thought.

Of course, Ken and Omi seemed to find all this fumbling endlessly amusing, but Aya and Yoji managed for the most part to ignore the two younger Weiss members.

"Aya, have you got the Takahashi order ready yet?" Yoji asked this question in his normal tones, but the low purr that was always present in his voice heated the base of Aya's belly. Now that they were more comfortable with each other Aya thought that he was more than ready for sex to enter the picture.... The only thing stopping them now was waiting for Yoji's ribs to heal.

And if Yoji had been taking a pot down from a shelf.... Hmm....

"Aya?"

"Aa." Aya shook himself loose of lascivious introspection with a start. "It's the big box."

Yoji whistled, his eyes widening. "That's a lot of roses," he commented, hefting it without the faintest wince. "Must be for a sweetheart. And this guy must be loaded!"

Aya felt the corner of his mouth curl up as Yoji carried the box toward the back with no difficulty. It looked as though Yoji was fit and fine again. He might just have to do something about that after the shop closed... upstairs, in one bedroom or the other, of course. Although, he did file the idea of in-the-shop sex away for future consideration. He was virtually certain that Ken and Omi had tried it at one time or another, and he couldn't very well let the two younger Weiss members outdo their two elders!

Still, for their first time together, the bedroom was--

"Are~?! Yuki-san!"

Aya blinked, then glanced over as he caught Omi's cheerful hail. The shop was nearly empty of custom and the tall blonde was unmistakable as he stood just inside the entrance, surveying the interior.

"Yo!" Ken lifted a muddy hand from where he was crouched in the corner, re-potting some daffodils.

Omi was snagged by one of the other two customers, and so Yuki strode over to Aya, who was free now that he had finished his last arrangement for the day.

"I'm here to buy some flowers," Yuki said abruptly. Aya was a bit surprised to catch a glint of genuine warmth in the man's amber eyes, however. They hadn't seen either Yuki Eiri or Shindou Shuuichi since that morning when the last remaining members of the Slashers had attacked them in their respective homes. Aya had been wondering what the feelings of the two men towards himself and his teammates might be. He wouldn't have blamed Yuki for being angry and resentful over the mess that Weiss had inadvertently dragged himself and his lover into, but that did not appear to be the case.

"Well, you're in the right place," Aya replied, with an answering warmth that startled him almost as much as it did Yuki.

They stared at each other a moment, and then those flat, pale eyes scanned the flower shop once more. Yuki quirked a brow at Aya. "How is Yoji doing?"

Aya felt pleased that Yuki cared enough to ask. "He's fine. He just took something out back to put it in the scooter for delivery." His mouth twisted slightly. "And if I know him, he's likely sneaking a quick smoke while he's there."

"Ah." Yuki nodded. Aya wouldn't have gone so far as to say the man looked relieved, but his face was more relaxed than Aya had seen it previously. Of course, the entire time he had interacted with Yuki, the novelist had been stressed out; first over having been shot and awakening in the Koneko's back room, and then later worrying over the safety and health of his lover.

"What sort of flowers are you looking for?" Aya asked, ready to be done with the small talk. He hadn't changed *that* much and he knew that Yuki was a lot like him, in that respect at least.

Yuki frowned thoughtfully, shoving his hands in his pockets. His left arm seemed to be fine, and Aya was glad that the man had sustained no lasting physical damage in his adventure with assassins and counter-assassins. "Orchids, I think, if you have them. Pink and lavender."

"Mm." Aya nodded sagely, keeping any and all possible comments to himself. "I think I can make you up something that will suit. If you'll excuse me a moment...."

Yuki nodded and stepped back as Aya went to work. He kept the bouquet simple yet elegant. The novelist watched intently, although he remained out of the way.

"You're very good at that," Yuki finally commented.

Aya shrugged, carefully wrapping the paper around the flowers. "After a few years it becomes second nature. We're all serious... about both our jobs."

"Aa." Yuki gave Aya a rare, thin smile as he accepted the bouquet and followed the redhead to the register. "I can see that."

"Hey, Aya, give him my discount!" Suddenly Yoji was behind Aya, a wash of body heat and fresh cigarette smoke assailing his senses. As he had thought, Yoji had made the time for an unofficial break.

"Quiet, Yoji," he said sternly, batting his teammate away. "Don't interfere. I was going to charge him double."

Yoji chuckled at this unexpected quip, moving easily away and leaning forward against the counter. "Things going okay for you, Yuki-san?" he asked, reaching up to brush bangs out of his eyes. Aya eyed the tight muscles of Yoji's rear, encased in denim, momentarily forgetting all about ringing Yuki's flowers up.

"Very well, thank you, Yoji," the man replied, his eyes crinkling, although he did not actually smile.

"And Shindou's all right?"

"As genki as ever," Yuki replied, with a longsuffering sigh. But Aya thought that he could detect a light in the man's eyes that was not there normally.

"That's good. I was worried. That was a lot of serious shit for someone so young to go through so quickly. But Shindou's the resilient type, isn't he?" Yoji straightened, a broad grin replacing his momentarily pensive expression. "Na, Aya, aren't you going to ring Yuki up?"

Aya glared, and did just that. Yoji didn't have an employee discount -- none of them did -- but Aya did shave over half off the price of the flowers. He would have felt bad charging Yuki more when the man had come expressly to find out how they were doing and to let them know he and Shindou were both well. Because Aya didn't doubt that there were other shops where Yuki could have purchased a bouquet that were closer to where the man lived.

"Those are nice," Yoji remarked, as Yuki carefully laid his flowers on the counter and pulled out his wallet. "Have you already gotten in a fight with Shindou?"

Aya fought the urge to kick Yoji behind the counter as he made change. At least he hadn't sounded too serious when he had asked.

"No, I have not," Yuki answered stiffly. "When Shindou and I fight, I don't buy flowers. I kick him out until he realizes that he was wrong."

Yoji laughed, though Aya wasn't so sure that Yuki was kidding. Well, whether he was or not, it was none of Aya's business. He had not thought that Yuki and Shindou would get into a fight so soon after Shindou had been abducted and almost killed, even though the question had been on the tip of his own tongue when Yuki had first made his request.

He supposed that there was no reason that Yuki might not be getting the flowers for Shindou as much as a gesture of love as he was as an excuse to come to the Koneko. Just because Yuki Eiri didn't wear his heart on his sleeve, it didn't mean that he had no heart. Aya was well aware of how hard it was to express the softer emotions. And while a bouquet did not seem to be Yuki's style, the flowers would surely please Shindou to no end.

"YUKI~!!!!"

A pink-haired whirlwind burst into the Koneko no Sumu Ie 2. Yuki stiffened, golden brows drawing together in a pained glower. Aya raised a hand quickly to cover a small grin. Why was he not surprised?

"Yuki!! You're here!! I thought so!! You should have told me you were coming -- I could have come with you!!"

Yuki was rubbing at the flesh creased between his brows. "And that wasn't reason enough not to tell you?" he muttered, though his voice was too low for Shindou to hear.

Yoji chuckled and raised a hand. "Oi, Shindou!"

"Yoji-san!" Shindou rushed over, his eyes bright. "Are you doing all right? How are your ribs?" He reached over the counter and grabbed one of Yoji's hands. "Your wrists look fine now!"

"Aa." Yoji smiled, gently retrieving his limb. "I'm all healed up, Shindou. No need to fret."

"I'm so glad!" To his credit, Shindou looked it, too. "You looked bad that last morning I saw you; all bloody and--"

"Shuuichi, shut up," Yuki interrupted tightly.

Aya glanced about, hoping no one had heard who shouldn't, but the shop was empty save for its employees and the two men standing before the counter. The clock on the wall had ticked its way past closing time, and Ken was busily hauling in the potted plants and their stands that had been sitting outside, preparatory to bringing down the grill.

"Shindou-san." Omi sounded almost shy as he joined the group around the register. "It's nice to see you. I haven't had a chance to ask you about the concert. Was everything okay afterward?"

"Tsukiyono-san!" Shindou turned toward the other youth with a broad grin and a dangerous gleam in his eyes. "I was actually looking for you! I need you to do a music video for me! It'll be easy -- all you have to do lip-synch to the camera, and--"

Shindou's eager words were suddenly muffled in a soft explosion of pastel colored blossoms. Yuki had smacked him in the face with his bouquet.

"U-uh, Shindou-san," Omi stammered, as the pink-haired youth attempted to free himself of the unexpected onslaught. "I'm flattered, but I don't think.... Onstage is one thing, but in front of a camera--"

"Ignore him," Yuki advised, retrieving the bouquet before Shindou could do it any real damage. "He just wants someone to do his work for him."

"Yuki~!!" Shindou throbbed up at his tall blonde lover. "You're so mean to me!"

"Here." Yuki abruptly shoved the bouquet at Shindou, then grasped the youth's upper arm. "It was good seeing you," he nodded at Aya and Yoji.

"Same here," Yoji drawled easily, raising a hand in farewell as Yuki began dragging Shindou toward the exit. "Next time don't stay away so long."

"Yuki, what are these?" Shindou asked, staring down at the pink and lavender orchids framed in crisp green paper that he held with a confused expression.

"They're flowers," Yuki answered shortly. "They're for you."

Shindou gaped, seemingly unable to form a response to this unprecedented moment. Aya felt he was rather grateful for the silence.

"Sure you guys can't stay?" asked Ken, who was waiting beside the exit, rubbing at the small of his back.

"Sorry," Yuki shrugged.

"Yuki.... Yuki, you -- you got me.... Yuki~!!!"

Ken reeled down the grill after the two departing men, and Aya let out a breath of relief. Although he no longer considered him to be so completely obnoxious, Shindou's presence could be exhausting.

"I'll go and make the last deliveries," Omi offered blithely. "Ken-kun, it's your turn to make dinner."

Ken groaned at the reminder, and Aya found that he suddenly had the makings of a fine idea.

"I'm gonna go shower," Yoji said, already heading for the back of the shop. "Aya, you're counting the till, right?"

"Aa."

Ken yawned widely, stretching, then grabbed a broom as Yoji and Omi exited the flower shop. He did a rather slipshod job of sweeping up the floor, but since Omi wasn't there to monitor him, he could get away with it.

Aya kept a half an eye on the dark-haired young man as he hit the button to count out the day's sales, then thumbed through the bills. They wouldn't make the deposit until the end of the week, but the cash had to go in the safe at the end of every day. Even in a shop below a household of assassins, it was best to be careful.

"Ken," Aya called, when it looked as though the young man was as finished as he was going to be and he seemed to be planning to sidle out.

"It's good enough," Ken answered defensively, freezing in place, his face puckering.

Aya stifled a sigh. As if he had ever cared about how well Ken swept up the shop after work. Of course, he himself always left it spotless, but he preferred to lead by example, not by nagging.

"I have something I want to talk to you about."

"Eh?" Ken gave Aya a curious look. "What is it?"

Aya's lips curved up in a wicked smirk. "How would you like to get out of cooking dinner... without pissing Omi off?"

Ken's eyes widened, then narrowed shrewdly. "Ho~?" He crossed to lean against the front of the counter. "What exactly do you have in mind?"

****

Aya seated himself on Yoji's unmade bed, planting one bare foot on the mattress before him and leaning back against the pillows. At least the sheets seemed relatively clean. They smelled of Yoji; of musk and sleep, but not of sweat. It was like sinking into a pleasant embrace, and Aya could see why it was sometimes difficult to drag Yoji out of bed in the morning.

He had decided on Yoji's room, in part so that he did not have to waylay the man in the hall as he left the bathroom. But there was a certain strategic meaning to it as well, and while Aya wouldn't have minded having Yoji in what he unconsciously considered to be "his" territory, there was something to be said for dominating the man in his own bedroom, as well.

Yoji took his usual half hour and longer in the shower, and so Aya had plenty of time to implement his plan. Not that there was much to it; really, it was beautiful in its simplicity. He was just glad that Ken had decided to go along. And from the silence in the apartment, it seemed that Ken had been able to convince Omi, after the youth had returned from his deliveries.

Aya smirked, feeling his groin tighten in anticipation, a low simmer at the base of his belly. Things were going as planned, and he always liked that. Especially on a venture so viscerally rewarding as this one.

Finally, Aya's keen ears caught the sound he had been listening for; the bathroom door opening down the hall. He waited.

Humming a tune that Aya recognized as one he had heard at Bad Luck's concert, Yoji finally sauntered into the bedroom. He had a pair of black sweat pants slung low on his hips and a towel draped around his neck to catch the water drops that ran down to the ends of his hair. He was flushed and still slightly damp from his shower, his well-defined musculature glowing in the warm light of the lamp beside the bed. Aya could only see the faintest echoes of the awful bruising that had marred the flesh of Yoji's chest.

"Aya!" Yoji stopped, his eyes widening in surprise, his sleepy expression sharpening. He cocked a brow, his mouth crooking in a lopsided grin. "What are you doing in here?"

"You have to ask?" Aya tilted his head, eyeing the clean lines of Yoji's body and holding out one hand. "Come here."

Something that wasn't quite trepidation flickered over Yoji's face, and then his green eyes darkened, kindling with desire. Aya himself was wearing only in his jeans, the denim stained with soil and worn loose. His chest was bare and he had already undone the upper button of his jeans. For effect more than anything, he admitted, but it seemed to be working.

Aya was not conceited, but there was something about being surrounded by squealing, swooning fangirls for several years running.... Besides doing wonders for the ego -- even at the same time it was so incredibly annoying -- it had rendered him more aware of the face he saw in the mirror every morning, and of the fact that this face was not by any means to be considered unattractive.

"Ho~?" Yoji unslung the towel from about his neck, crossing the room on silent feet. He came to stand by the bed. "And what exactly do you have in mind, Aya?"

Aya rose, standing directly before Yoji. They were very nearly of a height, with Yoji only topping Aya by a few centimeters. He slid a hand around the back of Yoji's neck, dragging the man in for a deep, hot kiss. As their mouths separated with the slick glide of shared saliva, he quirked a thin red brow. "What do you think I have in mind?" he asked, his tone bordering on sardonic.

Yoji's lids were heavy, his lips still parted and moist, their plush swells faintly pressure bruised. "But what about Ken and Omi?" he breathed, swaying toward Aya almost unconsciously.

Aya smirked. He moved with a quickness that took Yoji completely by surprise, and before the brunette quite knew what had happened, he was lying on his back on his own bed, with a smoldering redhead slung across his hips.

"Ken is taking Omi out for dinner and a night away," Aya purred, leaning down so that he could taste Yoji's breath as it pulsed over his startled lips in warm surges, could feel it in the chest just below his own, not touching but close enough to share body heat. "As my treat."

"Mmm...." Yoji moved beneath Aya, a long, slow body shiver, one arm coming up to ring the other man's neck. "Your treat for them... or for us?"

Figuring that this question did not need an answer, Aya gave in to the pressure Yoji was exerting in the muscles of his arm, lowering his head enough so that their mouths met.

He brushed his lips against Yoji's, soft and gentle. A hot-wet tongue flickered out, its tip touching the curve of his lower lip. With a small growl, Aya fitted his lips more closely against Yoji's, his own tongue invading the humid interior of the other man's mouth, slithering inside with intent and tasting everything as though it were his own once there.

And it *was* his own. Yoji was his for the plundering, Aya knew. And after the chunk of cash he had given over to Ken so that he did not have to worry about being quiet or being interrupted during their first intimate encounter, he intended to make the most of his possession.

Yoji's other hand had come to rest on Aya's hip, fingers fluttering like a frightened bird, clearly desiring to touch more.

Aya ended their kiss, dragging his mouth away. Breaking the hold of Yoji's arm ringing the back of his neck, he raised himself, sitting back on his heels and gazing downwards. Steamy violet eyes ran over the sweet body lying supine beneath him. Yoji was too skinny, but he was all hard muscle and there was a core of strength to him that was impossible to ignore.

After all, that was part of what Aya lo-- liked about Yoji. He wanted Yoji to be his, wanted the other man submissive beneath him... but he also acknowledged Yoji's independence and ability to take care of himself. That latter made the former all the sweeter, and Aya thrilled at knowing that he was making Yoji his own not because Yoji did not have any other choice, but because Yoji wanted it to happen. Instead of feeling that he had lost control, Aya felt that he was even more in control this way than otherwise.

Lying his hands against the slight swells of Yoji's pectorals, Aya fanned his fingers over the warm flesh, taking a moment to admire the contrast of his own pale ivory flesh against Yoji's golden tones. He could feel Yoji's nipples peaking beneath his palms, could feel the quickened beating of the man's heart, the rise and fall of his breathing, the heat that washed off of him, and the faint dewing of perspiration that already touched his skin.

"Aya?" Yoji whispered, sounding... not uncertain, but perhaps a bit anxious.

Aya smiled down at his captive audience. While waiting for Yoji to finish his shower he had felt a hint of nerves, wondering if he had the courage to follow this through. Not that he was a virgin, of course, but it had been quite a while since his last time. But now, here, with the reality of Yoji sprawled submissively beneath him, he knew that he could and would see this through to its natural conclusion. And Yoji was in for one hell of a ride.

"You're very beautiful, Yoji. You know that," Aya remarked conversationally, running his hands broadly down the older man's chest, feeling the heaving catch of Yoji's gasp as his fingertips caught at the stiffness of his nipples. He spread his hands over the hard bone and sinew of Yoji's ribcage, then ran his hands back up a bit, so that he could run his thumbs over those pert brown nipples, brushing them again and again, until he wrenched a low groan from Yoji's taut throat.

Yoji trembled beneath Aya's touch, only this much, and both of his own hands came to rest on Aya's hips. There they stilled, as though he was afraid to touch Aya's bare skin without permission, although his fingers did clench in the denim, tugging at a couple of belt loops in a mute demand.

Aya leaned down, his breath gusting over the cords of Yoji's neck, followed by a teasing, lapping tongue. "Very beautiful," he said softly, shifting his pelvis so that he was more resting atop Yoji than straddling him, so that their hips pressed together. He could feel the throbbing hardness beneath Yoji's sweats against his own trapped erection, and he couldn't resist giving a small thrust, at the same time fastening his mouth to the line of Yoji's neck.

Yoji gave a startled cry, his arm coming up at wrap around Aya's torso, one hand spread over the muscles of his back, fingers of the other hand twining through silken strands of crimson hair.

"Not me," Yoji gasped, shifting under Aya to try and gain more friction between their close-pressed groins. "You're beautiful... nn... Aya!"

Ignoring Yoji, Aya tasted the other man for a long moment, the flavor of salt and musk on his tongue, sending thrills straight to his cock. Yoji tasted of fresh sweat and faintly of the shampoo he used. His flesh was clean and sweet, and Aya wanted to taste more.

Breaking the light grip Yoji had upon him with ease, Aya worked his way down the man's arched neck to his collarbones. His teeth tested their hard, winging lines, then a soft-wet tongue dipped into the small indentation between them, tasting the pooling of perspiration that had collected there.

"Aya..." Yoji groaned, his body shifting restlessly against the mattress, hands scrabbling against the ivory planes of Aya's back, gripping at his shoulders. His body reached upward, straining, then he groaned again as Aya shifted, removing the contact between their hot-throbbing cocks as he worked his way down Yoji's chest. "Dammit, Aya, you're going to kill me.... Oh!"

Aya nuzzled one hard nipple, running his tongue over it in a broad sweep of lingering moisture, before moving onto to the other one. Beneath him, Yoji bucked upwards, his eyes tightly closed, both his hands now buried in Aya's hair, his breath coming tight and strangled.

A wicked smirk crossed Aya's mouth, his narrow violet eyes gleaming. So sensitive.... If Yoji responded this well now, how would he react when Aya worked his way lower?

Deciding that there was no reason to wait to find out, Aya lifted himself entirely off of Yoji, ignoring the tugging as Yoji's fingers were dragged from his hair as well as the despairing sound that the other man made.

Moving down to kneel over Yoji's knees, Aya hooked his fingers in the waistband of those faded black sweats. The elastic was nearly dead, its snap long ago vanished, and it was almost ridiculously easy to peel them down, exposing Yoji's thick, blood-engorged cock to the evening air.

"A-Aya!" Yoji sounded shocked, struggling up onto his elbows. His legs jerked beneath Aya, seemingly an involuntary reaction, but the redhead wasn't going anywhere. He had Yoji right where he wanted him, and he was going to have his way with the man.

Leaving the sagging sweats to ring Yoji's glorious thighs Aya leaned forward slightly, wrapping one strong, pale hand around the vulnerability of Yoji's burgeoning cock. This was power, but it was benign. He would no sooner damage Yoji than he would himself. This was all about pleasure, and about making Yoji lose control. So that he knew who it was he belonged to.

Yoji was well on his way to losing any control he had, already. His hands were fisted tightly in the bedcovers, his lips parted around quick exhalations, his hips straining upward into Aya's agonizingly light grip. "Aya, please..." he begged, his pupils dilated, his cheeks hazed a warm pink. "Please...?"

There was no reason to tease, and Aya had never considered himself to be cruel. Rubbing his thumb against the underside of the head, he bent forward and licked at the liquid that was already leaking from its burning tip.

Yoji gave vent to a soundless shout, his head falling back into the pillows, his spine arching. Aya could feel the muscles of the thigh beneath his other hand jumping, jerking beneath his palm.

Without further preamble, he took Yoji's cock into his mouth, lips closing about its impressive width. The blunt head was soft and hard at once, and blazingly hot against his tongue. He laved it, applying pressure, tasting the salt and sweet, and pressing both hands to Yoji's hipbones to restrain the instinctive surge upward that otherwise would have followed these ministrations. Despite the power in Yoji's body, Aya found no difficulty in this; he was stronger still, and he had better leverage.

"A-Aya.... Aya...." Yoji's fingers found their way back to Aya's fiery hair, threading through it, curving over his skull beneath the strands. He still attempted to thrust up into Aya's mouth, hips moving abortively beneath Aya's near-bruising grip. "Don't... ah, fuck!!"

Aya hastily raised his head, or else he might have choked on his chuckle, rather too literally. He couldn't have said why Yoji's exclamation had amused him so, but it had. Maybe it had been the mingled tone of outrage and entreaty that colored the expletive.

"What's wrong?" he asked, licking pressure-bruised lips, feeling the tingle in their fullness, tasting the salt and musk of Yoji in every corner of his mouth.

"Aya...." Yoji fell back, panting, his hands falling limply to the bed on either side of him, though one twitched toward his crotch. Aya immediately grabbed it, pinning his wrist to the mattress. "Aya... I wanna touch you too...."

With a wicked smirk Aya rose onto his hands and knees then moved to lounge on the bed beside Yoji. He ran a hand possessively over one lean hip and thigh as Yoji rolled toward him, wrapping an arm around his neck and pressing his face into the hollow of his shoulder.

"Am I going too fast?" Aya asked softly, the thought occurring to him suddenly. Yoji was even less of a virgin than Aya, by all accounts, but sometimes that didn't factor in so much. And even though they were both guys, this was as much a matter of the heart as it was of the flesh. At least, it was for him. And he assumed it was for Yoji too.

"No!" Yoji shook his head, his lips brushing over Aya's skin, sending prickles of erotic frission through his body. "It's not that. It's only that... well, you're *doing* everything!" He raised his head and fixed Aya with a defiant, almost accusative gaze.

"Hm?" Aya blinked, his flushed lips curving, violet eyes dusky under heavy lids. "I thought that was supposed to be a good thing."

Yoji snorted and tossed his head back, peering at Aya through tumbled bangs still damp from the shower. "If I were feeling tired or lazy, maybe. But, Aya, I want to touch you. Will you let me?"

"Of course." Aya was surprised. "You didn't have to ask." Did Yoji really feel that he needed to ask?

"Do you think we could get naked first?" Yoji wanted to know, tugging at one of Aya's belt loops again. "I mean, seeing as I practically am already anyway...."

Aya chuckled darkly and, sitting up abruptly, he stripped Yoji's sweat pants away entirely.

Yoji yelped, then glared up from a rumpled sprawl in the tangled bedsheets. "No fair!" he protested, though his eyes were glittering with emerald amusement. "Aya, you have to take your jeans off too!"

Aya contemplated daring Yoji to take them off for him... for all of an instant. Then he thought of the potential loss of dignity, and decided to do it himself.

It took a little contorting and a bit of wriggling but before eight seconds had passed, Aya was tossing his jeans easily over the side of the bed.

"That's better," Yoji purred, giving a provocative little wriggle against the bedcovers and holding up both hands, calling Aya back to him.

Aya settled against Yoji, flesh cleaving to flesh, warm and pleasant. "*Much* better," Aya rumbled back, reaching down and behind to take a firm grip on that tight rear he had been eyeing for weeks now.

Yoji snuggled closer against Aya, his arms ringing the other man's chest. Raising his chin, he pressed his mouth to Aya's for a slow, soft, gentle kiss. Aya flexed his fingers, blunt nails denting the hard curve of Yoji's ass, and slid his tongue out to lick at the crease that parted Yoji's supple lips.

Their hot, swollen cocks pushed and slid together between hard bellies and Yoji moaned into Aya's mouth, consumed by an overload of sensation. His fingers moved over Aya's back, weaving a complex, random pattern of touch and lingering warmth over the pale flesh.

Aya lounged back, propped on his side, his upper leg slung over Yoji's bony hip, his hand moving to languidly stroke Yoji's gleaming chestnut curls, as the other man began to make his way down Aya's body with moist lips and a flickering tongue -- mimicking but not duplicating the path that Aya had mapped on his own body previously.

Aya pressed on the crown of Yoji's head impatiently when the man would have spent too long toying with his nipples. For Aya these were not really an erogenous point and he wanted Yoji to continue lower.

Getting the hint quickly, Yoji made his way down Aya's ivory-hard chest and belly. There was not an ounce of fat on Aya's frame and Aya knew that Yoji appreciated this as he lingered over the muscled ridges of his abdomen. Aya considered briefly that it was a good thing that he was not ticklish, even though Yoji's caresses were all plush lips and wet tongue and demanding fingertips.

As Yoji reached his navel, Aya tangled his fingers in the loose curls that fell around his face, tugging gently at first, but growing more forceful. With a wince, Yoji finally responded, moving to lie beside Aya again, one hands lingering in a slow sweep over the hardness of Aya's lower belly. Aya gripped his wrist before he could venture lower.

"What is it?" Yoji wanted to know, his eyes dark and hazed with passion, licking swollen lips. "Don't you want me to...?"

Aya smirked, loosing Yoji's hand and tracing the man's skillful, generous mouth with his knuckles. His eyes flared as Yoji lapped at the tight skin over hard bone, but he otherwise did not respond. "Maybe later."

Yoji frowned faintly. "Are you sure? I give really good head...."

Aya growled, rolling Yoji over and pinning him to the mattress with the weight of his body, his hands gripping slim but strong wrists. It wasn't that he didn't like the reminder that Yoji had had other lovers, he told himself. He just didn't feel like indulging in any more useless banter.

Lowering his head, he ravaged Yoji's mouth, leaving the other man breathless and flustered. Yoji couldn't have spoken further if he had wanted to, for the moment at least.

Words were discarded as unnecessary for long panting minutes taken outside time. The two moved together, hands and mouths speaking for them in a manner more profound and deeply meant than awkward words could have expressed.

"Ah... Aya... nn... now?" Yoji gasped out, clutching at the other man's shoulders helplessly as the redhead marked the line of his neck, one of his hands wrapped around both their cocks at once, fondling and rolling them against one another with only enough friction to titillate, nowhere near enough to satisfy. "Please?"

Giving a last nip to the delicate flesh under his neck -- perhaps he was a little cruel after all -- Aya raised himself slightly above Yoji, resting on one elbow. "Are you sure?" he asked, though with an extra little pull of his palm over blazing flesh that probably would have had Yoji agreeing to anything.

Yoji moaned, his hips jolting, his head falling back against the pillows once more. Aya thought that the man had managed a faint nod, but it didn't really matter. Yoji had asked for it, begged for it, and Aya was ready for it as well.

Laying off of his favorite new toy, though Yoji whimpered and reached for him with needy hands, Aya shifted so that he could open the drawer of the bedside table. While Yoji had been showering he had gotten ready for this encounter. He had half expected to find some tubes or bottles of lubricant in there already, but then he had remembered that Yoji never brought any of his lovers home. He had been glad -- he wouldn't have liked the reminder. He didn't regret that Yoji wasn't a virgin and he didn't resent the previous men, but he had no desire to have the facts rubbed in his face.

With a wicked smirk -- an expression that was beginning to feel familiar on his face this evening -- Aya turned back to Yoji.

The man was a limp pile of lean golden limbs and tattered chestnut curls, panting against the pillows, and Aya paused a moment to savor the image. Steamy eyes looked back at him from under silken bangs, the same deep-dark green of forest shadows. Yoji's gaze was running over Aya's naked body and flushed face as hungrily as Aya was surveying him. Yoji was golden all over, save for his lips, which had been bruised red, his nipples, and, of course, his straining erection. Yoji's cock stood up, proud and eager, from the meeting of his thighs. He was not touching it, even though he clearly wanted to. But he knew Aya did not wish him to and so he refrained. This sent a lance of further heat into the root of Aya's own crotch, and he knew that it was time.

Yoji spread his legs further as Aya rejoined him, reaching eagerly for Aya's hard cock. Elegant, skillful fingers tugged at it, drawing his excitement closer to its peak, as Aya uncapped the lube and coated two fingers. While Yoji was certainly not the slut he sometimes pretended to be, Aya knew that the man would not need the careful stretching that someone with little or no experience would.

To confirm this, Yoji set his heels and raised his ass up off the mattress as Aya's hand delved down low, finding the crease of his cheeks and sliding between. "Don't waste time, Aya," Yoji whispered, his eyes shining brightly through the glaze of sexual appetite. "You don't have to be gentle with me."

"I wasn't planning on it," Aya replied in a low growl. Despite their words, he did take care that the entrance to Yoji's anus was well lubricated before he pushed his fingers inside. But once that was accomplished, he was almost impatient, making sure that Yoji was going to be ready for him. He wanted to be inside *now*.

Yoji grunted, twisting into the penetration, making it clear that he was as ready as Aya, if not more so. With a last slither of oily fingers, Aya withdrew and swiftly prepared himself, hissing a little at the coldness. Holding his throbbing cock in one hand, he hefted up one of Yoji's legs with the other, exposing the man to his view and to this act of ultimate intimacy.

Sliding inside was better than Aya could have, ever had, dreamt. Yoji was hot and tight and welcomed him in as though this was where he had always belonged. Aya let out a low groan as he seated himself as deeply as their slightly awkward angles would allow. Yoji bowed under him, pushing into the penetration, his hands clutching at Aya, at the bedcovers, at anything he could reach, a soft keening sound filling his chest and throat.

"Yoji..." Aya husked, lowering the man's leg to rest against his waist, leaning in closer over his lover and grasping Yoji's trembling cock with the hand that was still coated in lube. "Yoji, look at me!"

Yoji shivered beneath him, raising his other thigh to ring Aya's hips with his powerful legs, his hands locking around the redhead's neck. His cock jumped in Aya's grip as he shifted, writhing against Aya's impaling member. But Aya was not going to begin moving until Yoji obeyed his order. Aya could feel a trickle of perspiration trickling down his temple and running to his chin. He wanted to lean down and kiss Yoji's prettily panting mouth. He wanted to start pushing into his beautiful body. But first he wanted Yoji to look at him.

Seeming to realize this, Yoji peeled his eyes open. They were smoky and hazed with sex, the pupils dilated until they seemed all darkness. "Aya?" he faltered, thick lashes flickering over those lovely eyes, trying to focus on the still, serious face above him.

"Promise me..." Aya shifted his hips to one side just a fraction, then back again, drawing a small cry from the man beneath him, "That you won't ever get almost killed again."

"What?" Yoji blinked up at him, looking almost sleepy in his arousal, and very confused. "Aya, I'm an assassin. I can't--"

"Promise me!!"

Yoji arched and cried out with the small dig Aya made. He stared at Aya in mingled frustration and bafflement, then suddenly realization dawned.

"Worried.... You were worried about me...?" he breathed, reaching up a trembling hand to touch the hard line of Aya's jaw.

Aya said nothing, just watching the shifting features of Yoji's face.

Yoji smiled, but it was a warm, happy smile; not triumphant or mocking. He was just pleased to find that Aya truly cared. Aya was glad that Yoji finally understood, without him having to say the words aloud.

"All right. I promise," Yoji whispered. "Now just fuck me." He slid his arms more tightly around Aya's neck, tugging insistently until Aya relented and bent to claim those full lips. At the same time this move shifted his hard cock inside of Yoji, and he squeezed carefully at the swollen, leaking hard-on he was holding. He swallowed Yoji's low, thrilling cry, and then, bracing himself, he began moving, finally.

They rocked together, the perfect give and take claiming all their senses and overriding their consciousness so that there was nothing else in the world for them. Aya could feel Yoji's heels digging into the small of his back, and he hooked an arm under one of Yoji's knees, opening him up further as he punched in and out of Yoji's body without any thought for restraint or caution. There was no real need, and Yoji writhed beneath him, calling out husky encouragement, his arms like a vise around Aya's neck and shoulders, his hands closing in involuntary fists.

In and in and in, Aya pushed, not forcing his way into Yoji's body, but sinking over and over into its embrace. Yoji arched and wailed beneath him, and suddenly the burning cock that Aya had been stroking almost without realizing it shook in his hand, pulsing and pumping wildly. Aya felt the hot wet that fountained over his belly and Yoji's, staining his fingers with the evidence of Yoji's completion.

Yoji's desperate clutch around his shoulders loosened but did not fail as the man collapsed beneath him in a shivering, shuddering lump. Yoji moaned faintly as he attempted to catch his breath, his fingertips now spreading over Aya's back, nails digging into the flesh.

"Come on, Aya," Yoji murmured. He was still breathless, grunting and moaning a little with the force of Aya's rapid thrusts, his pleasure slaked but not entirely vanished. "Come for me.... Come in me...."

Aya grasped Yoji's other leg, raising it as he had done the first, so that he was able to press more deeply inside. Yoji whined out a low cry as this movement stimulated him once more, even though he was spent and would not be able to climax again for some time.

Aya thrust blindly, sweat filling his vision, the scent of Yoji's come filling his nostrils, the taste of Yoji full in his mouth, and his entire being caught up in the hard flesh that was sunk so deeply inside Yoji's body. This was all there was, and it was all he wanted. Yoji, forever and ever, laughing, teasing, moaning, sleeping....

Before his realization could become too profound or too clear, Aya's small internal world exploded in a burst of red-blazing sparks, the exquisite release of the pressure he had been building slamming through his mind and body. He tumbled, momentarily, lost in the pure, raw ecstasy of it, but it was rooted in Yoji, and it was back to Yoji that he found himself tumbling as the swell washed over him, leaving him slaked and limp on the other side.

Yoji caught Aya as he fell, as best he could, and the two curled together in the messy tangle of sheets that had once been a bed. Yoji rested his head against Aya's chest, and Aya ran a hand possessively over Yoji's hip and ass.

"Mine," Aya breathed into Yoji's hair, so softly that he didn't think Yoji had heard.

"Mmm.... Aya.... Was nice..." Yoji mumbled, breath hot and moist over the sweat-slick skin of Aya's collarbone. "Can we do that again?"

Aya chuckled. "Of course, stupid." He reflected a moment. "Although, I can't afford to bribe Ken and Omi to spend a night out every time."

Yoji was smiling, Aya could feel it. "Well, that's what love hotels are for. Or we could always get our own place."

"Hmm...." Aya hadn't thought of that, but he liked the idea. He liked it almost as much as he liked the feel of Yoji's tight ass under his hand, smooth skin, damp with sweat, hard with muscle. They could certainly afford it, even with their nice cars and the money Aya sent away to his sister every month.

"Ah, Aya," Yoji sighed. "Now I have to shower again." He sounded amused, however, not put out.

"Oh?" Aya grinned. "So do I. But there's only one shower in the apartment. What shall we do about that?"

"Nn." Yoji stretched, pressing up against Aya. "Give me a few minutes and I can show you." His grin was more of a leer as he tipped his head up, green eyes twinkling at Aya.

Aya tugged Yoji close, fighting sleep. Although it was tempting, Yoji was right; they needed to shower. Then they could repair to Aya's bedroom and a clean bed for the rest of the night. Well, and they ought to eat dinner some time in there. Mm. It was nice having the place to themselves. Maybe Yoji had the right idea. A nice apartment like the one Yuki and Shindou undoubtedly shared....

"It wasn't so bad."

"Eh?" Yoji started guiltily, as though he had been drifting off and Aya's voice had roused him. "What, Aya?"

"It wasn't the worst thing that could have happened, meeting Yuki and Shindou," Aya grudged, his mouth twisting slightly. "It was a mess, but...."

"But it shook us out of our tired routine," Yoji said, speaking the words Aya had been grasping for. "Got us, both of us, to look at things from a different viewpoint."

"Mm." Aya scowled. "Hell if I thank either of them, though."

Yoji laughed, lifting his head further and brushing his mouth against Aya's in what was not quite a kiss but something even more intimate. "I don't think Yuki would like it if you did. And Shindou probably wouldn't get it."

Aya sighed. He was starting to shake off a little of the lassitude of his incredible orgasm. The glow was not fading, but the strength was returning to his limbs. And an awareness of the state of the rest of his body was beginning to seep into the forefront of his mind. He pulled a sour face. A bath was *definitely* in order.

"Shall we go shower now?" he asked, though it was not really a question.

"Do we have to?" Yoji wriggled in closer to him. Though Aya enjoyed the nearness and the man's body heat, it mostly served to bring to his notice the fact that Yoji also needed a bath pretty badly. "I don't want to leave your arms."

"Who says you have to?" Aya asked, raising a hand and smacking his palm down on Yoji's undefended, unprepared rear. "Let's go."

Yoji yelped, then sat up, glaring furiously. "Aya!"

Aya chuckled, unrepentant. He had to climb over Yoji to reach the edge of the bed, and he paused with one leg slung over the other man, kneeling above him, gazing down into his face.

"Aya?" Yoji queried, his brow wrinkling quizzically. He made an abortive move, as though to reach up and touch, but turned it instead into a hand which he ran through his sweat-darkened bangs.

"Remember," Aya said fiercely, his violet eyes boring down into confused emerald. "You promised."

Yoji blinked, then his features softened, his eyes locking on Aya's. "Aa. I promised."

Aya bent to press a gentle kiss to Yoji's mouth, brushing a hard cheekbone with weapon-callused fingertips.

"All right then."

He rose from the bed, then helped Yoji to his feet, leading him to the bathroom. This was their chance and he had no intention of blowing it.

Yoji's hand was warm on his shoulder, stopping him just outside the door. Yoji's lips were sweet under his. Yoji was warm and alive in his arms, and Aya never wanted to let go.

This was what it felt like to come home. And everything was all right.