“Omi,” Yohji typed, irritated he had to betray he knew a computer as more than a big paperweight, “this is stupid. Let us out.”
“No,” appeared in the IM box.
Yohji glanced at Aya’s reflection in the screen, still sitting in the couch reading. When he’d reached the end of the book, the redhead had simply turned back to the beginning. He must have tried reasoning with Omi while Yohji was asleep, or he would have been in on this try.
There was one thing that might work. “Are you alone? Honest answer, Omittchi.”
“Yes. Aya-chan is doing homework and Ken is–well, you can hear him.”
He could. Ken was bouncing that damn soccer ball above the only basement window. The window was barred, or he’d already have broken it.
The window was barred, or small as it was, Yohji would have been out it, and strangling Ken. This time he had his watch.
“Don’t do this to Aya,” Yohji typed. “I know why you locked us down here, but you don’t know everything. Let him be. Convince Aya-chan to find someone good enough for him.”
“Why not you?”
“Come on, Omittchi.” Yohji hated to reveal he was a good typist, but wheedling could not be abbreviated. And he had to do this before Aya came to see if he was getting anywhere. Quickly but with deliberate typos, Yohji sent all the reasons he told himself, when he had to remember why he didn’t want to seek Aya out, why he shouldn’t flirt with the man, why he couldn’t just walk over and wrap his arms around the moody redhead.
Che. For the second time in his life Kudou Yohji was trying to be noble, and the brats weren’t making it any easier.
Omi didn’t answer. Yohji asked if he was there, and got nothing. Yohji lost his temper, and forgot to put in typos as he explained just why smartass little chibis ought to keep their noses out of grown-up business. If the kuso gaki wasn’t even going to pay attention–
“Why don’t you tell that to Aya-kun?” the box said. Then Omi’s icon went to “stepped out.” Not even “be right back.” K’so!
“Ken usually keeps a magazine or two under the cushion on that couch,” Aya said behind him. Yohji growled and closed the IM window and went to look.
No magazine. A brand new tube of lube, but no magazine. Yohji thumped the cushion down and sat on it. Quickly. Aya looked at him with one red eyebrow raised.
“They were thorough.”
Meaning the lack of magazine, Kudou! He hoped. Though if Aya had seen the lube, and taken it that calmly–no way. Aya had not seen it. Yohji sighed and flopped sideways, threw his legs over one end of the couch.
“Now will you play me for the book?”
“Can you read French?”
“I’ll look at the pictures.”
The side of Aya’s mouth jumped. It might have wanted to be a smile, but he stopped it. Yohji wished he hadn’t. Then again, it was better if he didn’t see the redhead smile.
Che. Che, k’so, and chikusho. This sucked. Even worse than waking up in Hawaii. At least there he’d been on the beach, and drunk, and–umm, a lot?–of kilometers away from the untouchable redhead, and Schu had turned out to be the best drinking buddy Yohji had ever–literally–stumbled over. He wondered how the German was doing, teaching Bradley fucking Crawford not to mess with Mastermind.
He really hoped Schu was sticking it right up that tightass bastard’s–
“Do you understand French?” Aya asked.
“Urp?” Yohji asked, shaking disturbing images out of his head.
“Do you understand French? The only way to share is if I read to you.”
“I’d like that.”
The redhead flipped back to the beginning of the book. After a few pages he flipped back once more, and read, then translated. Yohji started laughing in the right places. Who would have thought Aya read comedies, even in French?
Damn, he was staring again. Probably all sweet and dreamy-eyed, too. Good thing Aya was too absorbed in translating on the fly from French to Japanese.
And Omi had to ask why Aya deserved better than Kudou Yohji, drunken idiot?
Sober idiot right now. Damn it. Ken could have given him a six-pack. Maybe he could have got Aya to drink a few, and–
Bad idea, Kudou. He got up and brought Aya a soda, reading aloud had to be dehydrating. Then he opened the window and lit a cigarette, leaned on the wall while he listened.
Three cigarettes and too much enjoying of Aya’s voice later, the computer chirped, that cheery little noise that meant Omi had come back. Aya ignored it, Yohji tried. But it chimed a message, and chimed again. Yohji went to accept the chat.
“Told you,” Ken said. It was back to video, with all three of them. “No progress, just them being difficult.”
“Ran-niisan,” Aya-chan said, “come to the computer. Unless you want to make this a stubbornness contest?”
“Please don’t!” Omi gasped, then winced from the look Aya-chan shot him. Yohji chuckled.
“Don’t let him treat you like that, Princess,” he said. Mistake, she turned an F3 on the webcam. It would have been an F4 if she’d been in the same room. Aya stepped beside Yohji.
“What is it now?”
Omi nodded at his confederates, then glanced at his notes. Notes?
“Yohji-kun, do you know what an intervention is?”
“Nande? I haven’t been drunk in–”
“This is another kind. Since–separately, of course!–the two of you have figured out why you are locked in the basement, we’re going to move on. Aya-chan, would you like to start?”
“Hai! Yohji-kun! Are you aware Ran thinks you and that orange-haired man are lovers?”
“Nani?”
“I can’t imagine why. Maybe because you ran off to Hawaii with him?”
“Aya-kun,” Omi said, “are you aware Yohji believes you think he’s stupid?”
“Nande?”
“Maybe because you call him an idiot all the time?”
“Yohji-kun–have you explained why my brother ended up in handcuffs that night?”
“Aya-chan!”
“Quit babying me!” She leaned on the table. “He was protecting you from yourself, Ran, you said so. And I talked to that Mamiko. Am I an infant? He was being noble, you–you–“
”Temee,” Omi finished for her.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Aya-kun, you’re aware Yohji has trouble sleeping. Have you noticed him dropping off next to you at least once a day since he stopped being out all night?”
“And Yohji-kun, have you noticed that Ran is always there when you wake up?”
“Don’t you see, Yohji, that when you laugh, Aya almost smiles? Even when Aya-chan’s not around?”
“Ran-niisan, are you aware that Yohji-kun has stopped drinking completely, there wasn’t any alcohol in that refrigerator when Ken-kun took it?”
“Yohji-kun, do you know that Aya-kun is ashamed of the way he ‘mistreated’ you the night you went clubbing?”
“What!?!”
“Do you think that’s enough?” Aya-chan asked Omi. He shook his head.
“I doubt it, they’re pretty dense. But I’m out of notes. Ken-kun?”
“If it’s not enough,” Ken said with an evil smile, “we’re going to my plan.”
“Hai!” Aya-chan and Omi said together. The evil smile spread to two more faces. Omi cleared his throat.
“Very well. If you have an emergency in the night, bang on the ceiling, I’m sleeping in the living room. Good night, gentlemen.”
The window went to some cutesy screensaver. With ducks. Yohji sank into the chair. Aya thought he and Schu–
Aya had walked across the room, now he came back to the window. “Coming, Yohji?”
He started to ask where, but Aya was–yes, he was smiling. Not just any smile either, that was the mischievous sneak smile! Yohji jumped up.
“Hai!”
***
“Kudou Yohji does not do grocery shopping,” Kudou Yohji muttered, after Aya was safely out of earshot.
Out of earshot hell, Aya was out of the parking lot! Yohji’s thoughts flitted to what Crawford had done to Schu, but he shook his head. Aya would not do that. There was a reason for this, and Aya would share it when he was ready. Just as he’d shared the way out of the basement when he was ready. Really, Omi ought to know those bars had a latch…
And really. This plan had been cooked up in that dirty mind Aya had revealed in the back–and front–seat of the Seven. Yohji didn’t care what it was, he was all for it.
So he took the list and the yen and went shopping.
***
“Aya–“ Yohji began for the hundredth time. And for the hundred and fifteenth time–fifteen times he’d started with ‘temee’ rather than ‘Aya’–the redhead cut him off.
“Start a fire, Yohji. I’ll put the groceries away.”
Kudou Yohji stomped into the living room of Villa Weiss and grumbled some more. If he didn’t get laid in the next fifteen minutes, damn it, he was going to do the jumping and to hell with Aya’s plans and–
Patience, he reminded himself again. As he’d learned on countless missions, Aya’s plans were worth waiting for. But damn it, the anticipation was killing him, as well as the niggling fear that he was still misunderstanding the redhead, that this wasn’t what he thought, that they hadn’t run off to the mountains to have uninterrupted wild monkey sex, they were only here to get away from obnoxious, over-bearing, basement-locking housemates…
Kami-sama, if that were true, he was crying. Right in front of Aya. And then he was going to get really, incredibly, mind-bogglingly drunk, and see if he could find his way to–
“Yohji.” Aya held out a cup of coffee. Good, he had tea for himself, he wasn’t planning on either of them sleeping soon–Yohji took the cup, Aya sank onto the rug next to him. So far so good–
“Tell me about Hawaii,” Aya said.
“Che.” Yohji sipped. Perfect, when had Aya learned to make coffee? “I don’t remember much. I’ll never get there again and all I can tell you is the sun was bright.”
“Why were you there, Yohji?”
“It…” hell. Yohji rubbed the back of his head. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.” Why didn’t Aya just ask if he had slept with Schu?
Because Aya wouldn’t. Aya would not think it was any of his business. No matter what it meant to him.
“Schu swore it was my idea, but damned if I know. I think I remember going to Narita to drink and watch the planes take off, and the next thing I knew I was in a hotel bed in Hawaii.” He forced a chuckle, staring into the fire. “That bastard tried to make me think we slept together, but no matter how drunk I was, I wouldn’t do that.”
“You seemed…very close…on the flight back.”
This time his chuckle was real. “That was to annoy Crawford. He’s a bastard and a half, Aya, you wouldn’t believe what he did to Schu. And they have their own contingency system, he poisoned Schu somehow. That’s the only reason he got Schu back, is he was unconscious when Crawford showed up.”
“Schuldig was unconscious and you let him live?”
“I…even called Crawford to come and help him.” Yohji closed his eyes, not wanting to see the reaction to that. Damn, damn, he was such an idiot…
“Kami-sama, Kudou,” Aya growled, “who ever let you into the professional assassin club?”
“N-nani?” Yohji’s head whipped around, yes, there was that smile again! “Fujimiya, did you just make a joke?”
“Note it down in the record books.”
“Two! In one day!”
Aya snorted and hitched closer to the fire, his face grew serious again. “Yohji…I don’t think you’re stupid. You do things that look stupid to me, but it’s because you see things differently.”
“Really?”
“Really.” The redhead tilted his head, looking at him sideways out of those incredible eyes. “Taking me home from the club, for instance. If it had been you acting like that, I would have left you there.”
“Aya…you will never know how hard it was to resist you, but I was sure–“
”Do you think?” Aya interrupted, and oh wow the heat in his eyes… “Do you think I don’t know how hard it is, to resist touching something I want so much it hurts? To turn away from something so beautiful it–he–takes my breath away? To keep from grabbing him–you–and shoving you up against the wall and–“
Yohji shivered, Aya cut off, looked away.
“Don’t stop!” Yohji set his coffee cup aside. Far aside. “What–what would you do to me, against that wall, Aya?”
“Let’s…” Aya exhaled slowly, “Let’s not start there.” His eyes came back to Yohji. “Let’s start–on a rug.”
Yohji did not look at the rug they sat on. “I can picture it.”
“First,” Aya said, moving closer, “I would lean close, breathe you in…” he inhaled, “and tell you how very beautiful you are. How your eyes sparkling make me want to laugh, how the shape of your face makes me breathe faster, how your lips–“
Yohji licked those lips. “What?”
“Make me want–need–to touch…them…” Aya brushed his lips across Yohji’s, softly, twice, drew back and went on, “how your jaw cries out to be adored,” little kisses, from Yohji’s chin to below his ear, “how when I think about,” he breathed, so softly even there Yohji could barely hear him, “your ears…”
“What about my ears?” Besides the fact he was tingling with Aya’s breathing in one…Yohji sat still, afraid to break the spell, oh wow, this was–no one had ever talked to him like–
“They are perfect,” Aya kissed, and nibbled, and breathed, “for whispering naughty thoughts into, making you hot and hard and horny before I–“ he nudged with his shoulder, Yohji lay back, Aya followed to lean over him, “–before I lie you down and do every single thing I said.”
Oh shit, Yohji needed some blood back in his brain or he was going to pass out, how could Aya do this to him? Aya, the innocent, doing this to the great Kudou Yohji?
“And…and after you said those things?” Was he stuttering? Again?
Aya smiled. Yohji shivered. “After…I’m torn. I might…” he eased down, Yohji grabbed him and pulled, “kiss you…”
God…Yohji moaned, lips and teeth and tongue and Aya and his hands in that glorious hair and that perfect body against him and Aya and his head was spinning and he needed to breathe and damn it he didn’t want to, breathing was overrated…
Aya gave a last tiny nip at Yohji’s lips and pulled away, then laughed–Aya laughed, Kami-sama how beautiful–and wiped his mouth with his forearm. Yohji smirked, things had gotten a little wet.
Other things had gotten incredibly hard.
But Aya was just looking at him. Like–like a kid on Christmas morning, who’d just unwrapped the best present ever and he wasn’t going to let it out of his sight, it was his, forever, and no one else was going to play with it, ever…
God if he was thinking that…!
“What–what else might you do?”
One red eyebrow quirked. “If I decided not to just kiss you forever,” that rich voice said, “I might…” his hands slid under Yohji, and up the back of his shirt, “…touch every centimeter of skin you ever showed me when I couldn’t touch…” He rolled, and lifted until Yohji pulled his knees up to kneel across the redhead. Aya pushed his shirt up slowly, whispering how beautiful his navel was, how the jut of Yohji’s hips above the low-slung pants made him want to give them hickeys, maybe put his name right there below Yohji’s ribs…his fingers traced every rib, brushed lightly over Yohji’s nipples, making him shiver again…Aya sat up to pull the shirt over Yohji’s head, sliding his hands up Yohji’s arms, his fingers sliding into Yohji’s as he pushed the fabric over Yohji’s hands, then he slid that light touch back down and around and pulled Yohji against him–
“Iya!” Yohji protested. Aya jerked away, Yohji yanked him back. “Not you, the damn sweater, Aya!”
Aya leaned back, stripped off the orange sweater before Yohji could. “Better?”
“Hai!”
“Good.” Aya yanked Yohji close again, stared into his eyes a long moment, then dropped his gaze to Yohji’s neck. Oh, last time he looked like that–
He did it again, light scrape of teeth, tickle of tongue, then soft lips and suction and Yohji couldn’t help writhing, clamped his hands in gorgeous hair so Aya would know it was because he loved it, oh God did he love it, and Aya was so hard, and he was so hard–Yohji rocked, Aya grabbed his hips and held him still.
“Patience,” the redhead murmured against his neck, then went lower, nibbles and kisses and teases of tongue and all Yohji could do was hold on and pant and oh God where did Aya learn that?
“Next time!” he gasped out. “I’ll be patient next time!”
Aya chuckled against his ribs, how could he bend like that– “Be good, Yohji,” tiny nip of teeth, then tongue, “and I’ll give you a present.”
Oh God, Aya talking like that! “I like presents…”
“You’ll love this one,” Aya promised, straightening to nibble Yohji’s lips as he tugged at his legs until the blonde wrapped them around Aya’s waist. “And when I…” Aya breathed, “…couldn’t resist any more,” he kissed Yohji breathless again, like he had far to go, “I would touch…” one-handed again, he unfastened Yohji’s jeans carefully, his other hand squeezing Yohji’s ass, “…what you never shared with me before.”
“Ungh!” Yohji threw his head back, oh God he should have known, the hands of a swordsman! The perfect grip, the callouses…
“Beautiful,” Aya murmured. “I’ve always wanted to see you like this, Yohji.” He stroked again, Yohji moaned and quivered. Aya took them sideways, gently lowered Yohji to the rug before he stroked again. The blonde moaned again. “That’s it,” Aya whispered, stroking with a little twist at the end. “Just feel, you are so good at that,” kisses down Yohji’s chest, “you make me feel,” tongue-flick at a nipple, aahh! “even the ice princess can–”
“I’m…oohhh!…sorry…for…ungghh –”
“It was true.” Aya licked a spot wet on Yohji’s ribs, then blew on it. “You saved me, Yohji. There wouldn’t have been any of Ran left when Aya-chan woke, if it weren’t for you.”
God, he wanted to treasure that, but he couldn’t think– “Aya, promise me…”
“We can’t make promises,” Aya said, and his voice was sorry.
“Nnngghh! Not that–ahhh!–promise you’ll–oh fuck, Aya!–you’ll say that again when I can listen…”
“Hai,” Aya murmured, and nibbled at Yohji’s hip. “But now–“ Yohji forced his eyes open to meet that evil grin, “just shut up, Yohji.” And he ran that pointy little tongue up–
“A-YA!!”
“Better than the chocolates,” Aya murmured, and did it again.
“Oi, those were–errrrr!–expensive–“
“Better,” Aya insisted, and that perfect mouth sucked Yohji–
“Urnnghh!” he moaned again. “Aya, Aya, oh, fuck, Aya–“
”Marvelous idea,” and Yohji’s pants vanished, finally, and he was right, he was going to be uke and he couldn’t wait…
“I’m sorry,” Aya gasped, as a cold wet finger slipped inside, Yohji squeaked, “Yohji, I’m sorry, I wanted to make it last, but–“
”Baka! Ngghh! We can do it–“ another finger, another squeak, “–do it again!”
“All night,” Aya promised. “And tomorrow, and tomorrow night, and–“
”And now!” Yohji yelped. “Will you shut up and–AYA!”
“Tell me how to fuck,” Aya muttered with that evil grin, and brushed that spot again. Yohji jerked and gasped. “Yohji, you’re so beautiful…” the fingers vanished, wet hands grabbed Yohji’s hips. “Come here, I want you–“
”Want you too!” Yohji gasped, planting his knees on either side of–
“Take it slow–“
”I know what I’m doing!” Hot and hard brushed him, Yohji threw his head back, “Fuck, Aya!”
“Not yet, I’m not even in…”
“Smartass little–aahhh!”
“Little?” Aya asked.
“Big!” Yohji gasped, dropping his head on Aya’s shoulder. “Nngh–gimme–gimme a second–not used to this end–“
”You can stay there forever,” Aya whispered, careful fingers brushing blonde hair from his eyes. “I can’t believe you’re there at all, Yohji, I don’t deserve–“
”Baka!” Yohji eased down, oh shit, that was good– “Don’t, Aya, don’t you dare–ahhh!”
“You,” Aya murmured, kissing his forehead. “You think there’s something here worth saving.”
“Baka…”
“Same to you.”
“Aya, move!”
“You’re sure?”
“MOVE!”
“Yes…” One solid arm went around Yohji, the other hand grasped his erection, and Aya moved, and rocked, and stroked, and whispered, “…beautiful…perfect…Yohji…feel so…“
”Motto, Aya!”
“Easy, Yohji, you’ll–
“Don’t…nngh!!…care! Harder!” Yohji grabbed Aya’s shoulders and drove himself down, threw his head back with a deep moan. Aya gasped and rocked him harder, and oh God– “Yes! Aya, oh, fuck, Aya, Aya–“ now, he couldn’t hold on any more, his body exploded and his mind followed, oh fuck, oh shit, oh wow…
“Yohji!” Aya shouted, slamming Yohji to his chest as he exploded too, and oh, damn was that…oh just…wow…Yohji let his head fall back to Aya’s shoulder.
“Wow…”
“Hn.” Carefully Aya eased him to the rug, then–vanished!
“Ayan! Where are you going?”
“You’re a mess, Yohji.”
“Don’t care…”
But Aya was back in a minute, with a washcloth, a warm towel, and a blanket. Yohji snuggled up to him, this time Aya snuggled back. Yohji raised his head to grin into those incredible eyes.
“I win.”
“Your silly bet?”
Yohji brushed back sweat-soaked red hair. “Everything.”