[weiss kreuz] fanfic
Title: To have this. (Envy)
Author: espial
Fandom: Weiss Kreuz
Pairing: Fujimiya Aya/Kudou Yohji
Rating: Pg-13.
Word Count: 1453
Summary: Aya is taken in by Yohji's words just as easily as the others.
Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I make profit from the characters of Weiss Kreuz
Author's Notes: This is for the 7_deadly_sins_ challenge. prompt:Envy. Many thanks to my beta sunlesslands who not only beta'd this, but got this off the ground. :) Con-crit is appreciated, commnets are welcomed.
Envy
The bell rang cheerfully as Aya pulled the door closed, locked it and set to cleaning up the shop. His head pounded with the promise of a migraine, the constant high pitched chatter of teenage girls grated on his nerves, the excited shrieks whenever Omi or Yohji addressed them set his teeth on edge. Despite Aya’s attempts to clear the store of loiters there were always more. He rolled his shoulders, feeling the tense muscles seize with the movement. Weeks had passed since their last mission from Persia, he felt caged- mind hyper vigilant, though his body was sluggish.
Aya gripped the broom handle tighter, a poor imitation for his katana, as he lunged at an imaginary foe. The makeshift sword cut through the air, Aya's weight shifted, body turning, thrusting the weapon once more. Aware of the presence behind him, the broom slid through his fingertips, bristles back on the ground as he continued to sweep.
"I'll train with you, Aya." Yohji's voice was light, Aya's name drawn out teasingly.
"If you aren't going to clean, go away." Aya swept the trampled flower stems and dirt from the floor, the wiped down the display case. Strong arms wrapped around Aya's waist from behind, drew him flush against Yohji's chest. Aya tensed, Yohji’s breath slid across his skin, raised goose-bumps.
"Tell me something, Aya." Yohji's fingers tip-toed up Aya's torso, stopped at his chest. Yohji's hand was heavy and warm, pressed over Aya's chest, slender index finger tapping against Aya's body in time with his heartbeat.
"What?" Aya could feel the smile, the slow upward curve of Yohji's mouth against his skin. He attempted pulled away from Yohji, who only held him tighter.
"Where did this come from?" Yohji touched the gold earring, Aya forgetting to inhale. His jaw clenched, hand balled into a fist, Aya separated himself from Yohji, and resumed cleaning.
"Come on Aya, let me in." Yohji leaned against the display case, cigarette lit, hands jammed into his pockets, eyes obscured by his hair. "Just tell me who she is."
Aya grit his teeth, instantly recognizing the body language. The tone of Yohji’s voice was one he often took when he was being 'charming'. Once more, Aya's personal space was invaded, Yohji’s warmth pressed against him, cigarette smoke swirling around them. The smile slipped for a moment, the barest of kisses brushed against Aya’s mouth.
"Please."
"My sister." Aya's mouth moved on it's own accord, half of his brain yelling for him to shut up, the other half taken by how earnest Yohji was no matter how brief the moment. There was another kiss, slow and lingering, Yohji's hand cradling Aya’s head, urging the kiss deeper.
"Aya," Yohji's words were spoken against his cheek. Aya braced himself, steeling his resolve for more questions. "Thank you." Yohji stepped away after pressing a kiss to Aya’s forehead.
The sound of the cash register opening seemed to loud to his ears. The bell echoed through his head, bouncing around on memories and feelings that rushed to the surface when he answered Yohji. Aya watched as Yohji counted the bills, separating out their gain for the day against what remained at the store. Aya’s body felt heavy once more, the bottle of glass cleaner clenched tightly in his hand, paper towel crumpled between white knuckled fingers.
"Have you eaten yet?" Yohji's voice startled Aya, the cash drawer clicked closed.
"No." The one word response took too much effort, something twisting awkwardly in Aya's chest when Yohji approached him. The other man's posture was loose, hands open, extended toward Aya. Yohji's touch was light, one hand cupping Aya's chin, tipping his head up, Yohji's lips barely a centimeter away from Aya's.
"Come upstairs, I'll fix us something to eat."
A slow shiver worked its way down Aya's spine, body curving automatically toward the warmth radiating from Yohji's. The rational part of Aya's mind struggled to retake control, rebuild the walls that concealed every detail deep inside- rebuild the boundaries that kept everyone at a distance. Even Yohji. No matter how wonderful the kisses were, no matter how gentle Yohji was with him- or how the blond worded questions. Aya had given in, and that was something that should have never happened.
"I'm not hungry." Control was just an instant away, Aya straightening, taking a step back. Mentally, he could see the walls sliding back into place, brick by brick, impenetrable.
"Come upstairs anyway. Keep me company." Yohji turned off the lights, Aya following behind still trying desperately to bottle things back up where they belonged. Aya settled heavily into a chair at the rickety card table the four of them used as a gathering place for meals. Yohji moved effortlessly through the kitchen, Aya could hear Yohji humming a nonsensical tune, with no further attempt at questions about his past. Two large bowls filled with noodles and broth were set on the table, the spicy combination of ginger, chili oil and garlic crept around him, Aya’s stomach growling despite protests that he wasn’t hungry. Yohji’s glasses were folded, set at the edge of the table, his hair pulled completely back barely contained by a rubber band, hands folded, head bowed slightly, before offering Aya a pair of chopsticks.
"Don't make me eat by myself." Yohji's smile had returned, a genuine expression, as he dug into the food. Aya found if he concentrated on details, the whole picture wasn’t as bad. Still thrown from his willingness to answer Yohji, the need to reply to that smile, the sliver of satisfaction he got Yohji thanked him. Aya opened his mouth, and before he could speak, noodles were shoved unceremoniously into his mouth. He chewed, eyes narrowed at Yohji who feigned innocence, happily returning to his own bowl, shoving noodles into his mouth as though he hadn’t eaten in weeks. It was then Aya realized how close they were. Yohji's thigh against Aya's, the whisper of cloth brushing against cloth as Yohji’s arm moved, brushing against Aya's. His hand moved of it's own volition, fingertips brushing over the knuckles of Yohji's free hand.
Aya looked up from their hands, entwined on the table top, Yohji's palm slightly sweaty, grip light- met Yohji's gaze, mouth too close to his own. Aya licked his lips, mouth dry, heart pounding. The gap between them closed in an instant, Yohji's lips against Aya's, sound of absolute need lost against the kiss. Yohji's chair scraped against the floor, pushed away from the table, strong hands pulling Aya into his lap. Aya straddled him awkwardly, one hand clutching to Yohji’s shoulder tightly, for fear of sliding off.
The next kiss was slow, Aya's fingers twisted in surprisingly soft hair, Yohji's head tipping back, his tongue in Aya's mouth. Warm hands settled on Aya's hips, Yohji's thumbs applying the slightest bit of pressure, before sliding his hands to the small of Aya's back. They separated, Yohji's breath beat against his skin, Aya rested his head against Yohji's shoulder, his own hands skimming down Yohji's chest, amused at the way the blond rolled under the light touch. Yohji's hips jerked upward, his hands sliding slowly up Aya’s back, his sweater inching up, cool air causing him to shiver.
"Please, Aya, don't tease me too much." Yohji's hands pressed against Aya's shoulders. His back naked and exposed, fear a quickly rising lump in his throat, Aya twisted, hands grabbing at the worn fabric of his sweater, yanking on it desperately to cover himself once more. "It's okay Aya, it's okay." Yohji's voice cut through the panic, hands gentle as they pulled the shirt back over Aya’s body. Yohji whispered an apology against Aya's lips, kisses light and soft, one after the other, luring Aya back into the quiet comfort of their embrace.
Yohji's hands slipped out from under Aya's sweater as he stood up. Aya instantly missed the warmth, the promise of security offered by something as simple as touch. "I'm tired." He couldn’t bring himself to look at Yohji; Aya wasn't sure he wanted to see the smile falter. Each step was arduous, mental defenses fully in place, along with the self made promise that it wouldn't happen again.
Aya's bed creaked as he lay down, stared up at the ceiling. The curtains stirred, breeze brushing through the room. Curiously, he prodded at his mouth with a fingertip, he could taste Yohji on his tongue, his lips swollen, the light touch sending sparks through is body. Aya tried to come up with a reason- any explanation as to how Yohji could have that effect on him. He rolled onto his side, encased tightly in a blanket, a cheap imitation to the warmth he had experienced earlier.
Author: espial
Fandom: Weiss Kreuz
Pairing: Fujimiya Aya/Kudou Yohji
Rating: Pg-13.
Word Count: 1453
Summary: Aya is taken in by Yohji's words just as easily as the others.
Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I make profit from the characters of Weiss Kreuz
Author's Notes: This is for the 7_deadly_sins_ challenge. prompt:Envy. Many thanks to my beta sunlesslands who not only beta'd this, but got this off the ground. :) Con-crit is appreciated, commnets are welcomed.
Envy
The bell rang cheerfully as Aya pulled the door closed, locked it and set to cleaning up the shop. His head pounded with the promise of a migraine, the constant high pitched chatter of teenage girls grated on his nerves, the excited shrieks whenever Omi or Yohji addressed them set his teeth on edge. Despite Aya’s attempts to clear the store of loiters there were always more. He rolled his shoulders, feeling the tense muscles seize with the movement. Weeks had passed since their last mission from Persia, he felt caged- mind hyper vigilant, though his body was sluggish.
Aya gripped the broom handle tighter, a poor imitation for his katana, as he lunged at an imaginary foe. The makeshift sword cut through the air, Aya's weight shifted, body turning, thrusting the weapon once more. Aware of the presence behind him, the broom slid through his fingertips, bristles back on the ground as he continued to sweep.
"I'll train with you, Aya." Yohji's voice was light, Aya's name drawn out teasingly.
"If you aren't going to clean, go away." Aya swept the trampled flower stems and dirt from the floor, the wiped down the display case. Strong arms wrapped around Aya's waist from behind, drew him flush against Yohji's chest. Aya tensed, Yohji’s breath slid across his skin, raised goose-bumps.
"Tell me something, Aya." Yohji's fingers tip-toed up Aya's torso, stopped at his chest. Yohji's hand was heavy and warm, pressed over Aya's chest, slender index finger tapping against Aya's body in time with his heartbeat.
"What?" Aya could feel the smile, the slow upward curve of Yohji's mouth against his skin. He attempted pulled away from Yohji, who only held him tighter.
"Where did this come from?" Yohji touched the gold earring, Aya forgetting to inhale. His jaw clenched, hand balled into a fist, Aya separated himself from Yohji, and resumed cleaning.
"Come on Aya, let me in." Yohji leaned against the display case, cigarette lit, hands jammed into his pockets, eyes obscured by his hair. "Just tell me who she is."
Aya grit his teeth, instantly recognizing the body language. The tone of Yohji’s voice was one he often took when he was being 'charming'. Once more, Aya's personal space was invaded, Yohji’s warmth pressed against him, cigarette smoke swirling around them. The smile slipped for a moment, the barest of kisses brushed against Aya’s mouth.
"Please."
"My sister." Aya's mouth moved on it's own accord, half of his brain yelling for him to shut up, the other half taken by how earnest Yohji was no matter how brief the moment. There was another kiss, slow and lingering, Yohji's hand cradling Aya’s head, urging the kiss deeper.
"Aya," Yohji's words were spoken against his cheek. Aya braced himself, steeling his resolve for more questions. "Thank you." Yohji stepped away after pressing a kiss to Aya’s forehead.
The sound of the cash register opening seemed to loud to his ears. The bell echoed through his head, bouncing around on memories and feelings that rushed to the surface when he answered Yohji. Aya watched as Yohji counted the bills, separating out their gain for the day against what remained at the store. Aya’s body felt heavy once more, the bottle of glass cleaner clenched tightly in his hand, paper towel crumpled between white knuckled fingers.
"Have you eaten yet?" Yohji's voice startled Aya, the cash drawer clicked closed.
"No." The one word response took too much effort, something twisting awkwardly in Aya's chest when Yohji approached him. The other man's posture was loose, hands open, extended toward Aya. Yohji's touch was light, one hand cupping Aya's chin, tipping his head up, Yohji's lips barely a centimeter away from Aya's.
"Come upstairs, I'll fix us something to eat."
A slow shiver worked its way down Aya's spine, body curving automatically toward the warmth radiating from Yohji's. The rational part of Aya's mind struggled to retake control, rebuild the walls that concealed every detail deep inside- rebuild the boundaries that kept everyone at a distance. Even Yohji. No matter how wonderful the kisses were, no matter how gentle Yohji was with him- or how the blond worded questions. Aya had given in, and that was something that should have never happened.
"I'm not hungry." Control was just an instant away, Aya straightening, taking a step back. Mentally, he could see the walls sliding back into place, brick by brick, impenetrable.
"Come upstairs anyway. Keep me company." Yohji turned off the lights, Aya following behind still trying desperately to bottle things back up where they belonged. Aya settled heavily into a chair at the rickety card table the four of them used as a gathering place for meals. Yohji moved effortlessly through the kitchen, Aya could hear Yohji humming a nonsensical tune, with no further attempt at questions about his past. Two large bowls filled with noodles and broth were set on the table, the spicy combination of ginger, chili oil and garlic crept around him, Aya’s stomach growling despite protests that he wasn’t hungry. Yohji’s glasses were folded, set at the edge of the table, his hair pulled completely back barely contained by a rubber band, hands folded, head bowed slightly, before offering Aya a pair of chopsticks.
"Don't make me eat by myself." Yohji's smile had returned, a genuine expression, as he dug into the food. Aya found if he concentrated on details, the whole picture wasn’t as bad. Still thrown from his willingness to answer Yohji, the need to reply to that smile, the sliver of satisfaction he got Yohji thanked him. Aya opened his mouth, and before he could speak, noodles were shoved unceremoniously into his mouth. He chewed, eyes narrowed at Yohji who feigned innocence, happily returning to his own bowl, shoving noodles into his mouth as though he hadn’t eaten in weeks. It was then Aya realized how close they were. Yohji's thigh against Aya's, the whisper of cloth brushing against cloth as Yohji’s arm moved, brushing against Aya's. His hand moved of it's own volition, fingertips brushing over the knuckles of Yohji's free hand.
Aya looked up from their hands, entwined on the table top, Yohji's palm slightly sweaty, grip light- met Yohji's gaze, mouth too close to his own. Aya licked his lips, mouth dry, heart pounding. The gap between them closed in an instant, Yohji's lips against Aya's, sound of absolute need lost against the kiss. Yohji's chair scraped against the floor, pushed away from the table, strong hands pulling Aya into his lap. Aya straddled him awkwardly, one hand clutching to Yohji’s shoulder tightly, for fear of sliding off.
The next kiss was slow, Aya's fingers twisted in surprisingly soft hair, Yohji's head tipping back, his tongue in Aya's mouth. Warm hands settled on Aya's hips, Yohji's thumbs applying the slightest bit of pressure, before sliding his hands to the small of Aya's back. They separated, Yohji's breath beat against his skin, Aya rested his head against Yohji's shoulder, his own hands skimming down Yohji's chest, amused at the way the blond rolled under the light touch. Yohji's hips jerked upward, his hands sliding slowly up Aya’s back, his sweater inching up, cool air causing him to shiver.
"Please, Aya, don't tease me too much." Yohji's hands pressed against Aya's shoulders. His back naked and exposed, fear a quickly rising lump in his throat, Aya twisted, hands grabbing at the worn fabric of his sweater, yanking on it desperately to cover himself once more. "It's okay Aya, it's okay." Yohji's voice cut through the panic, hands gentle as they pulled the shirt back over Aya’s body. Yohji whispered an apology against Aya's lips, kisses light and soft, one after the other, luring Aya back into the quiet comfort of their embrace.
Yohji's hands slipped out from under Aya's sweater as he stood up. Aya instantly missed the warmth, the promise of security offered by something as simple as touch. "I'm tired." He couldn’t bring himself to look at Yohji; Aya wasn't sure he wanted to see the smile falter. Each step was arduous, mental defenses fully in place, along with the self made promise that it wouldn't happen again.
Aya's bed creaked as he lay down, stared up at the ceiling. The curtains stirred, breeze brushing through the room. Curiously, he prodded at his mouth with a fingertip, he could taste Yohji on his tongue, his lips swollen, the light touch sending sparks through is body. Aya tried to come up with a reason- any explanation as to how Yohji could have that effect on him. He rolled onto his side, encased tightly in a blanket, a cheap imitation to the warmth he had experienced earlier.