Notes: First read my Why Kids Shouldn't Talk to Grown-Ups About Sex, and Talya Firedancer's prequel, Aya Tells Omi About the Bees and the Bees.
In terms of canon, this fits into a very loosely defined first-season pre-first-breakup time-frame. ... But really, I don't care. O_o It doesn't really fit, and it doesn't intend to. So nyah.
My main warning is that this isn't as funny as the other two. Darn fic grew a plot while I wasn't looking. (Not much of one, it's still just a bad excuse for a whole lotta smut, but hey.)
The Kid's Dangerous
by Utopian Trunks
Chapter 1
Strange, he hadn't noticed that pattern in the ceiling cracks before...
"Unh...!" Youji caught handfuls of sheet as Ken thrust into him again, arching his back to let him in further. "Ken, motto..."
Youji winced as his younger partner misinterpreted that rather enthusiastically, driving into him much too fast. The taller man's eyes squeezed shut, teeth sinking into his lip. He wished Ken would pay just a little more attention... A kiss, a caress, some attention to the rest of Youji's body while he satisfied himself would be nice...
"Naa, Ken..." He reached one hand up to ruffle the other's sweaty bangs. His fingers slipped behind the dark head, tugging just a little. The Siberian grinned, leaning into his palm, but didn't respond otherwise. A kiss, something... Come on, Ken... Both large hands remained planted firmly on his hips, Ken obviously fixated on point of entry. Youji sighed, dropping his hand again. His teammate's grasp of foreplay was already pretty weak... afterplay was really asking too much.
Youji kilted his hips upward, trying to position himself so that Ken would hit that spot... His groin tightened briefly as one thrust came close, but missed. A small groan of frustrated arousal forced its way out of him. Aya always finds it... Youji bit his lip. Dame, Youji. Not while you're with Ken... He writhed unhappily, moaning again when Ken pinned his hips more securely to the bed. Shit...! Ken was going to finish without him, if he didn't...
Youji's eyes slid shut, a vision of crimson hair flickering across the backs of his eyelids. Intense violet eyes as Aya bent over him, face flushed and lips just parted. Aya, who always stroked inside him just right, Aya who never seemed to use the same position twice, Aya who made him so fucking incredibly hot...
Unthinking, Youji's hand strayed down to his own erection, grasping and beginning to move. He whimpered softly in combined frustration and pleasure.
Aya, who would have grabbed his hand and pinned it if he'd tried this with him. Youji was strictly disallowed self-stimulation with the redhead. Not that he ever needed it. It didn't matter what Aya was doing, during their trysts Youji never had a moment to think or to want for anything. Those fingers, those lips, were always touching something that made him want to scream. He seemed to know every sensitive spot Youji had, every place on the brunet's body that could reduce him to a shivering, sweating, helpless mess. And it didn't matter how long he held out... he could deny himself till he thought he would die from waiting, Aya had never once come before him.
Youji shook his head. Iya, iya, iya. Not now! It wasn't fair to compare. It was different. Ken was... Ken was Ken. He was cute, and sweet, and Youji liked him. They'd been lovers for almost five years now... and it was good with Ken... It was...
But...
"Ken--" Youji began, opening his eyes.
The other man's hand landed suddenly over his mouth, pushing his head back into the pillow. Youji blinked in shock, and stared at him. Ken was looking over his shoulder towards the door, all motion of his hips stilled. "Mmph!" Youji attempted angrily.
"Shh..." Ken hissed, without looking at him.
What the--?! Youji's brows drew, gall rising. Ken, what in holy hell do you think you're doing...?!
A knock sounded at the door.
Youji bristled. What, was that all?! He tried to push Ken's hand away, but Ken had a lot of weight on him and leverage was lousy. A growl rose in his throat. Keeeennnn...
"Oi, Ken-nii, you in there? You home?!"
The soccer brats? Up here?! Youji could hardly believe it. His eyes narrowed. You're going to ignore them, riiiiight?
Ken slid out of him.
Youji's body went rigid. He was still pinned. Keee~nn... His fists balled at his side, fury rising thick and fast. No one silences Kudou Youji. No one! And further... Youji's teeth ground together behind the muffling hand.
"Ken-nii?"
"Aa~! Be there in a minute!" Ken called. "Wait for me in the field, na?"
"OK! Hurry up, though!!" Footsteps pounded down the corridor.
Ken shook his head. "Someone must've left the back door open. Jeez..." He turned back to Youji. "Um..."
The look fixed on him could have slagged brick. Ken lifted his hand hastily, sliding back off Youji's hips. "Oops. Sorry..."
Youji pushed out from under him and lunged for his jeans, pulling them on despite his still-hard arousal with swift, jerky motions and ripping his shirt from the chair it was slung across. He had one hand on the door and another fastening the first button when he felt Ken's on his shoulder. He whirled, face like a storm cloud.
Ken stepped back a pace, looking up at him with what could only be termed a sheepish expression. "Youji, sorry... I..." he gave a weak grin. "Guess I'm in the doghouse now, huh?"
Youji's eyebrows raised impossibly high. He smiled sweetly, enunciating each syllable. "The doghouse...?"
It had been a peaceful morning. Aya had opened the shop by himself, served a few customers, and spent the rest of his time working on arrangements for delivery in a corner of the shop. Business was slow during the first couple hours on Saturday, but there were always weekend deliveries to prepare, so it was worth keeping the Koneko open for those customers who happened by.
Aya put the finishing touches on a red rose and white carnation arrangement, tilting the last sprig of Baby's Breath into place and cocking the background fern just so... He gave a small nod of satisfaction. Perfect.
Just as he was opening the door of the refrigerated display case to store his masterpiece, the door to the back room burst open and Youji appeared.
"Ah, Youji, you're just--"
Narrowed eyes shot him a black glare. "Death," the brunet hissed, in tones that would have done Aya proud. The redhead stepped back instinctively to let Youji stalk past. The front door of the Koneko slammed, leaving the little bell to jingle out a forlorn echo.
Aya's eyebrows unbalanced. What the hell...?
The wooden stairs beyond the back room beat out a harsh rhythm, Ken emerging from the open door a moment later. He was flushed and out of breath, and his eyebrows were drawn so far they almost fused into one. Aya forewent greeting and simply looked at him.
"Aya," Ken gasped, taking a deep breath to slow himself down. "You seen Youji?"
The redhead pointed wordlessly to the front door, still vibrating from impact.
Siberian spat a curse to the side and followed, moving almost as fast as Youji had been. He turned at the door and looked back at Aya, opening his mouth. "... Fuck," he added, as an afterthought, then stormed out and slammed the door behind him.
Aya watched him disappear down the sidewalk--in the opposite direction from that Youji had taken. His head cocked thoughtfully to one side. A fight, it would appear. He turned back to settling his arrangement onto a shelf and closed the door. He paused. Had that been the beginnings of a black eye Ken was sporting...?
The door jingled again, more sedately this time.
"Irasshaimasse," Aya said, looking up.
Omi stared back at him, stunned. "A-Aya-kun... do you actually smile at the customers when we're not around?"
Abyssinian's mouth flattened out. "No," he denied tonelessly.
"Anou..." Omi shrugged and smiled brightly. "Maa, ii. Aya-kun, aren't you off soon?"
"I doubt it," Aya replied, dusting his hands on his apron. "I don't think Youji will be showing up to replace me." He pondered. "Ken might be back for the shift after that."
"Hm~?" Omi's brow pursed. "Doushite?"
"Educated guess. I'll fill in."
Omi shrugged again. "OK." He retrieved his apron from behind the counter and hopped up onto the stool. "Mind if I take the register?"
"Go ahead."
No one showed up for a while. Omi took out what looked like a manga from the little backpack he'd been carrying and flipped through it quietly. Maybe half an hour later, he rang up a sale, and the shop was quiet again.
Aya started the next arrangement on his list with the recent scene replaying in the corner of his mind.
Especially the part with the darkening circle under Ken's left eye. He smirked at the lilies he was arranging. Idiot. Aya wondered idly what Ken had done to make Youji hit him. That glare from the Balinese gave him another pause. Youji had looked mad enough to kill. This might be big...
This might be useful...
Aya inadvertantly snapped the stem of the lily he was holding and glanced guiltily back at Omi to see if the boy had noticed. He didn't appear to have. He hastily stuffed it into the arrangement where it wouldn't be noticed.
Ken and Youji didn't fight often. In fact, almost never. Ken didn't seem to mind the older man's promiscuity with the women--he didn't know about Aya. When Youji was less than completely satisfied with Ken--which was often--he either went on a date, or propositioned Aya. More usually the former than the latter, unfortunately. With a relationship that loose, you would think it'd be hard to have conflict...
"Aya-kun?" the redhead's musings were cut off.
"Ee."
"Anou..."
Aya recognized that tone of voice. "Wait a minute." He held up a hand. "You slept over at Nao-kun's house yesterday, didn't you?"
"Un," Omi nodded.
Aya sighed. "Just so I know what I'm getting into," he muttered beneath his breath. At least he wasn't drinking anything this time. He turned his seat a little so he had the younger assassin in his periphery while he continued his arrangement. "What is it?" It'd already been proven twice that it was impossible not to answer Omi's questions. The best thing was to brace yourself and get it over with. Aya frowned. Youji wasn't in the building to help him with the aftermath, though...
Omi didn't seem to notice his teammate's hesitation. He fiddled a little with the manga in his hands. "Uh... Well, it's about... sex," he said.
When is it not? Aya wondered. "Mm-hm?" he prompted, dropping a nutrient packet into the vase. He'd already given Omi the gay Kama Sutra not long before, according to Youji Omi was already well-experienced with masturbation; what else was there?
"Well..."
Aya turned more fully, taking in the boy's expression. Unlike the last time they'd had a 'chat', Omi wasn't blushing, and didn't look particularly embarrassed. Just as though he was struggling for words. Aya cocked his head to one side, curious. Omi huffed frustratedly, lifted one finger and opened his mouth, then closed it again.
"Anou..."
"Go ahead."
Omi huffed again. "This'll sound stupid." He crossed his arms, a frown drawing fine golden brows. "Well, I mean..." He took a deep breath and let it out. "Sex is a lot better than masturbation, right?"
Aya looked at him. Where was this leading? He nodded slowly. But Omi wasn't finished.
"Right, so... it's better because you're with someone else, right?"
"Right...?"
"But..." Omi lifted his index again, looking off towards the far corner of the ceiling as if the answer might be written there. "But it's different depending on who you do it with, right?" His eyes riveted on Aya again.
"Eh?"
"Well, I mean, it makes a difference who your partner is, right? It might be better or worse depending on the person, right? It's not just the same with anyone, right?"
"Obviously." Aya shrugged, deciding that after his prior discourse on technique, prudishness really wasn't necessary. "Some are a lot more experienced, or just naturally more skilled with that kind of thing than others. Particularly good with their hands, or tongue..." He had a sudden vision of Youji, last week, dark head down between his legs. Those slender, tapered fingers caressing, massaging his thighs as that tongue dragged along his length, agonizingly, beautifully slow--Aya shook himself slightly. You made that mistake last time, Fujimiya...
Omi was shaking his head. "No, that's not what I mean. I know what you're talking about, but..." he clicked his tongue, tapping his foot quickly against a spoke of the stool as he searched again. He looked back to Aya. "OK, say... you had two guys, and they were just as good at sex--technique, and all that--and you could have sex with either of them. Wouldn't one still be better than the other?"
Aya shrugged. "One would be more attractive."
"What if they looked the same, too?"
Aya opened his mouth to say this was ridiculous when a couple of cat-eyed lookalikes sprang to mind. "This is about Yukio-kun and Hideo-kun, isn't it?"
Now Omi reddened slightly. "Sort of."
"Just because they're twins doesn't mean they have the same skills." Aya levelled a firm look at Omi. "And I'm not suggesting you find out about that, either."
The blond's cheeks flushed scarlet at that, and he waved his hands vigorously before him. "I'm not! I mean, I won't! Honest!" He paused and the colour faded a little. "But that's not what I was talking about."
"There're bound to be customers eventually," Aya said wryly. "Cut to the point."
"You promise you won't tell?"
Aya looked less than amused. "Fine."
Omi's blue eyes fixed hard on the manga in his hands. "Nao-kun's in love with Hideo-kun," he said. "But he doesn't like him back, and Yukio-kun does instead."
"Classic," Aya intoned. So the point is...
Omi gave a forlorn sigh. "I... well, I just wanted to help out Nao-kun..." He set down the book, weaving his fingers together in front of him. "I said why didn't he just go out with Yukio-kun instead, and... he got mad." Omi raised large blue eyes to Aya. "He said I didn't understand anything, and it was really shallow of me to think that it wouldn't matter which one of them it was..."
The redhead scowled, instantly angry. Omi was well-intentioned sweetness personified. Where did that little brat get off saying that? "He's an idiot." Aya said firmly.
Omi sighed again, shaking his head and casting his eyes down. "No... I think he was right, Aya-kun... I shouldn't have said that. I mean... well..." he chewed on his lip. "Sex... we think about it a lot, 'cuz we're teenagers and all that, but... but really... you shouldn't do something like that with anyone you weren't in love with... ne?"
Oh, shit. Aya looked back at Omi for a long moment. He was torn between his honest response and the better, more parental one. 'Of course! You should wait for someone who is perfect for you! Your soulmate! Someone who completes you!' He could hear Youji reciting it in falsetto with one hand pressed dramatically to his heart. It was the proper response to give an impressionable teenager. Because if they actually bought it, they could go years without finding someone suitable, and hopefully stay celibate in the meantime.
He had actually had this discussion with Youji, a few days ago in the shop after-hours, after they realized they were both likely to be targeted again by Omi's disturbing questions. Youji hadn't been extremely serious, though; and Aya had found it somewhat hard to keep his mind on Omi's healthy development when Youji was giving the aforementioned soliloquy half-naked. "Completes you? You mean like this...?" Youji had laughed and let himself be pressed up against the shutters of the closed shop. Aya had pulled down the unbuttoned jeans Youji had been trying to drag on and slid inside him, still slick from their last round, minutes before. Youji's arms had draped around his neck, that lazily cat-like sated expression on his face. "Mm... maybe something like that... Aa~h, Aya..."
Violet eyes had gone glazed. Aya blinked quickly. What had Omi asked him...? "Um." Waffle time. "What makes you think that?"
"Well..." Omi frowned almost to a pout. "Nao-kun said that you ... uh... what was it? Oh. He said you form a bond when you have sex that you can't get rid of. So it should always be with someone you love." Omi's frown deepened. "But that didn't make any sense to me."
Aya sighed inwardly. Thank god.
"So then, later I talked to Yukio-kun about it..."
Uh-oh...
"And what he said made a bit more. He said that when you love somebody, everything you do with them is better. Like, you wouldn't enjoy doing homework usually, but if they're there, it's fun, or it'd be boring to sit through history class, but if they're sitting next to you, you don't mind. And little things, he said, like just holding hands, or bumping elbows, they feel great if you're in love with that person..." Omi's expression had brightened, as though talking through it had cleared it all up. "So naturally sex with someone you love would be so, so much better, that any other way isn't even worth it! Right, Aya-kun?"
"Omi, you realize that's all--" --bullshit-- Aya caught himself at the sight of huge cornflower eyes on him. He frowned. And coughed. How the heck was he supposed to answer this...? He opted for the cheap return. "--Relative," he finished. "What are you defining 'love' as, anyhow?" Hah. The kid wouldn't be able to answer that one, would be forced to go off and think about it first, and hopefully end up talking to Youji instead.
The blond boy cocked his head to one side. "That's easy, Aya-kun," he smiled, eyes almost sparkling. "If you have someone you love, you don't want to be with anyone else. You think about them all the time. You see all their good points, and forgive all their bad ones. When they're away you feel lonely, when they come back you're happy, and you hate to see them with anyone else..."
Aya's eyes had widened gradually during the discourse.
"Crap." he asserted without thinking. "Shoujo manga crap," he added.
Omi shook his head, bangs swaying. "Uh-uh, Aya-kun. That one I'm sure of," he said, as though it were a physics problem they were both puzzling over. "Hontou da," he said firmly.
"How are you an expert on that?" Aya asked. His eyebrows shot up, horrified. "Don't tell me you... with Nao-kun, or one of the twins--" Masturbation was one thing, if any of those little brats touched Omi, then--
"Iya, iya..." Omi waved a hand before his face. "I'm not..." He blushed. "I'm not in love with anyone."
Aya opened his mouth, then shut it again. He had a feeling he didn't want to press that one.
"So, Aya-kun...? Is it true?"
"How should I know?" Aya blurted.
Omi's expression was earnest and searching. "Well, you have had sex, right, Aya-kun?" How he could ask that with such an innocent look on his face after hearing Aya's dissertation on male-male sex...
"Aa."
"So was it better with the person you love?"
"I wasn't in love with any of them," Aya answered automatically.
Omi's brows drew in a hurt expression. "You... you weren't?" Aya glowered. What was he sounding so disappointed for? Did Omi really expect him of all people to be a romantic? Sex was sex. "But..."
Aya turned brusquely back to his arrangement, noticing with considerable annoyace that he'd taken too long, and the lilies lying beside the vase, that he hadn't inserted yet, had begun to brown around the edges. "Yes?" he asked irritably.
Omi fisted one small hand in his apron, looking determined. "Well, if that's true, then what kind of person was it better with?"
"Stupid question," Aya muttered, not loud enough to be heard. There had only ever been three. And the best of those... was Youji, hands down.
"Aya-kun?" Omi wasn't giving up.
Aya scowled at his flowers. He didn't want to think about this.
"Who?" Bombay wanted to know.
Aya's scowl darkened. There was his first, when he was fourteen, who had proven much too effectively that Aya was definitely not a bottom. There was his second; sweet, submissive, pretty, good with his mouth... but long disappeared into Aya's cordoned-off past. And then there was Youji.
Who was a mess of long limbs and impossible grace, tumbled hair and green eyes. Who always seemed dressed to be undressed, and who was even harder to resist tousled and debauched, seemingly begging at all times, just by the way he stood, sat, or lay to be taken again...
And who, if he were here, would be glaring at Aya fit to kill for failing in his responsibilities as a role model for their resident teenager. Aya's teeth gritted in growing aggravation.
"One," he said, not exactly answering the question. "One was... better." He didn't look at Omi, but he heard the lift in his voice with apprehension.
"Why?"
"Na~ Aya, again..."
Soft breath against his throat, long fingers playing lightly over his chest.
Curve of full lips against his skin, fingers moving lower.
"A~hh. Knew you had something left for me." Hooded emerald eyes met his through disshevelled chestnut strands. Fourth time that night.
"Always."
Because with him, it was never enough. There was something about Youji that left him wanting no matter how much he got.
Aya stood abruptly. "I have to go."
He was out the door and down the sidewalk before Omi could answer, something wound extremely tight in his chest. He had three guesses as to where Youji might have gone, and if none of them were right, it wasn't going to be pretty. He needed to find him now. He rounded a corner into the alley behind the Koneko.
And straight into someone's chest. There was a surprised exhalation just above him.
Aya stepped back, ready to disembowel whoever had been stupid enough to get in his way. His brows shot up. "Youji."
The brunet scowled back. "Why doncha look where you're going?"
"No need, now." Aya lunged forward, pinning Youji against the brick wall and kissing him hard.
The older man's hands came up between them and shoved him back. "I'm not in the mood, Aya," Youji growled, brows drawn.
"That can change," Aya returned, pressing up against him and dipping his head to brush his lips over Youji's neck.
"I mean it," Youji's voice had risen. "Not now." He growled, eyes flashing when Aya ignored him, struggling. "Get off! Aya--!" He got his elbow and knee up between them and threw his weight forward. Aya staggered a couple steps back. Emerald eyes glinted furiously. Youji's fist shot out.
Youji's eyes widened when it landed, snapping Aya's head to one side. He flinched away when Aya turned back to him, looking unaffected though the welt was already rising red on his cheek. He was too startled to resist when Aya looped an arm around his waist and kissed him again. His lips fell open to the redhead's tongue.
"Aya," Youji half-growled, eyes confused, when they parted. "Whadja let me do that for?"
"You wanted to hit someone, didn't you?"
"K'so..." He squirmed again, but Aya held him firmly in place. "Hit me back, then!"
"Why should I?" Aya felt Youji shudder as he stroked down one denim-clad thigh. The dark head tossed angrily as he lapped at the brunet's throat.
"I just hit you for no reason! Aren't you angry?"
"Do you want me to be?"
"Yeah!" Youji shoved at him again, then huffed as his back hit the wall a second time. "Shit, Aya--" his hands fisted at his sides as the redhead's mouth moved lower, to the base of his neck. He tossed again, but Aya's hand on his shoulder kept his torso more or less in place. "I'm fucking pissed off, I don't wanna do this right now!"
Aya shrugged. "You can hit me again if you feel like it," he offered. "But it probably won't slow me down much."
"Chikusho, Aya," Youji snarled. "I'm not a woman, you don't have to be chivalrous with me. Fucking hit me back!"
"I don't feel like it." Youji winced as Aya nuzzled beneath his jaw and the redhead drew back. Aya's eyes narrowed at the pale flesh, then he lifted a finger and carefully ran it along under the brunet's chin. A frown creased his forehead. It was strangely colourless, but there was a decent swelling running all along the jawline--mostly under the chin, invisible to the casual eye. Aya's mouth tightened. "He hit you back, na?"
Youji glared venemously off towards the street. "'Course he fucking did. We're both men, why the hell shouldn't he?"
Aya huffed softly. He placed a light kiss on the forming bruise, sliding his fingers into Youji's hair.
"Don't act like that," Youji snarled. "I hit him first. He had every right--" His tongue battled with Aya's when their mouths met again. Green eyes were overly bright when they met violet. "Stop it."
Aya leaned his forehead against Youji's, pressing up warm against the taller man, but ceasing all motion of his hands. "All right."
Youji was breathing hard. "He aimed to miss, okay? I just didn't dodge. So don't go thinking..."
"Why didn't you?"
Youji glared over Aya's shoulder. "I don't know. I felt guilty."
"Did that help?"
"No." Aya was silent and after a moment Youji huffed in frustration. "It's not him I'm mad at. Not really." The redhead lifted his eyebrows, prompting silently. Youji's lips thinned. "There's nothing he can do, and neither can you, so forget about it."
He pushed again and this time Aya stepped back. Youji shot him a wary look before turning and heading for the back-entrance that led up to their apartments without going through the shop. Aya followed, leaving a foot or two between them.
On the second floor Youji turned to glare at him again. Aya gave him a look. "My room's upstairs," he said. Youji's eyes narrowed. Then he stalked to his door and threw it open. It slammed shut behind him.
Aya let out an annoyed breath, folding his arms and frowning at the closed door. Apparently he was in no danger of figuring this out any time soon. That coil around his lungs wound a little tighter. He had to stop talking to Omi, nothing good ever came of--
Youji's door burst open again.
"Asshole. What the hell were you waiting for?" Youji growled, yanking the collar of Aya's turtlneck sweater. He almost bodily hauled the startled younger assassin into the apartment. Kicking the door shut so hard it rattled the frame, he shoved Aya up against it. Youji's mouth fell on Aya's hard, searching. The redhead's lips parted automatically to kiss back. His arms stayed where they were, against the door.
Youji was panting when they parted, both hands fisted in Aya's collar. The expression on his face was a mixture of wild-eyed lust and fury Aya had never seen there before. It sent a pang straight through from his chest to his groin. His hands went cold.
Youji bit at the side of Aya's mouth, throwing that willowy frame of his up against the younger man's. "You want me, don't you?" he rasped.
Aya swallowed. "A-aa."
Youji's tongue traced the bruise forming on Aya's cheekbone. Aya hissed as he bit. Lean hips flexed hard against him. "Then let's go, Aya."
"Youji--"
Emerald eyes flashed at him. "But I don't feel like being nice about it." Aya felt the older man's erection against his hip, even through two layers of denim. "So you'd better not be, either."
"What's--"
"I mean it," Youji snarled, grip tightening uncomfortably on Aya's collar. "Now. And if you try to be gentle about it--"
Aya's hands closed over Youji's wrists. Violet eyes glinted darkly. There was a limit to even his self-control. "All right," he breathed.
Youji stepped back, his eyes lighting expectantly. "Good." He let Aya pry his fingers loose from his collar and moved back as the redhead moved away from the door. He tugged experimentally at the hands holding his wrists together and drew a shaky breath. "Good," he repeated. "Come on."
Aya moved forward, forcing Youji back towards the bed. When his knees hit it, he dropped the brunet's hands and cupped his head instead, kissing him. Youji kissed back briefly, then grabbed Aya around the waist and threw himself back onto the bed, pulling the shorter man with him.
Fine-boned hands clasped Aya's face, pulling him down for another kiss. It could only be described as ravenous, the way he devoured Aya's mouth. His long legs parted around Aya's knees, hips flexing up towards the redhead's. A low noise of frustration escaped him, then he bit.
Aya flinched back, but Youji had his face held firmly, and his teeth didn't release Aya's lip. Green eyes met his, narrowing as he bit harder before letting go. "Youji, what--"
"You weren't listening, Aya," Youji growled.
Aya snagged Youji's hands again and pinned them over his head, stopping him before he could bite him again. Green eyes gleamed up at him dangerously. Aya caught his breath as one of Youji's legs hooked around one of his, pulling their hips together and flexing. He shuddered, but pulled himself back up, maintaining his grip on the older man's hands. "Calm down, Youji," he said, disturbed more than he cared to admit by the half-crazed expression on that usually sweet face.
"Fuck calm," Youji hissed back, snagging Aya's other leg with his and yanking. The redhead fell over him and Youji arched up against him. Aya could hear his breaths, frantically rapid by his ear as Youji sucked at his neck, teeth raking the soft skin. Aya groaned, violet eyes sliding shut, unable to stop his hips from rocking in reponse to Youji's. The hand that wasn't busy restraining the brunet travelled unconsciously to Youji's side, carressing the smooth contour of his chest and slipping possessively around his waist. Youji writhed under him. "Fuck me," he hissed. "That's all I'm asking you for, Aya."
A strange shiver diffused through the redhead's body. He abandoned the brunet's wrists to lift himself up a little, catching those fevered green eyes with his own. Youji's hands stayed where they were for a moment, his chest rising and falling unevenly.
"What?" he rasped at length, scowling.
Aya's face clouded. He caught the brunet's collar and pulled him upright as he rocked back onto his heels. "I want this off," he commanded. Youji's eyes widened a little, but he lifted his arms and let Aya pull his shirt over them. His slender, sculpted torso gleamed pale in the half-darkness of the apartment.
Youji sat still as Aya pulled his sweater and the shirt beneath it off in an impatient movement, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth as his green eyes clung hungrily to the redhead's body.
"Jeans, too," Aya said, voice low and tone undeniable. His fingers were already on the fly of his own. Youji hurried to comply, slipping his off and tossing them to the floor along with his boxers. He watched Aya dispose of his with a quickening of breath.
"Aya--"
Aya moved fluidly forward, catching Youji's lips and grabbing his waist, pulling the brunet onto his lap. Youji's lips were pressed apart, Aya's tongue slipped in, taking his mouth with rough expertise. Strong hands skimmed down from his shoulders along his sides. Youji moaned softly, hooking his arms around Aya's neck and kissing back, sucking that talented tongue into his mouth, then twining his own around it. He made a muffled sound as Aya's fingers grazed his chest, teased at one nipple, then pinched softly.
An audible noise of protest escaped him when Aya's lips parted from his. The expression in those fierce orchid eyes stopped him. He stared back, almost apprehensive, his breath coming fast and uneven. "Aya?" Youji's hands came up to grasp at Aya's shoulders as the crimson head dropped and he took one crinkled brown nipple in his mouth.
A throttled groan issued from his throat as Aya's fingers clamped down over that one spot on his neck somehow capable of releasing all the tension gathered in his shoulders and back. Simultaneously the suction against the sensitive skin of his chest increased, making him arch back against the restraining arm about his waist.
With a final lick Aya drew back, breath sharply cold across wet, sensitized skin. Youji's legs locked around Aya's waist, fingers tightening on his shoulders. Razor-sharp amethyst stared up into his eyes, but Aya said nothing.
"Kisama--" Youji began, clenching his teeth as Aya's other hand slipped between them, feathering up his erection and drawing a startled moan from him. "You can't--" he gasped. "Give me the silent treatment while we're--!" He threw back his head, muffling a cry as Aya's whole hand wrapped around him.
"You told me," Aya whispered. Fingers still working Youji's neck, he moved to trace Youji's throat with his tongue. "Just fuck you." Youji stiffened.
"Aya, that's--" Youji broke off. He whimpered, wrapping his arms around his neck and pressing closer as Aya's hand began to move. Sword-calloused fingers dragged slowly up and down, grip firm and uncompromising.
"Somehow, if I believed you meant it, I'd be angry."
"A--!" Youji's words were cut off by Aya's mouth over his, hard and demanding. His fingers wove into crimson hair, fisting in it, pulling Aya deeper into an already bruising kiss. He was on his back again when Aya broke away, violet gaze transfixing him.
"And I'm not. Why do you suppose that is?"
Aya turned away, reaching for the nightstand drawer. Youji caught at his extended arm with both hands. "Forget it, Aya..."
The redhead found what he was looking for and turned back, a small glass vial of oil in his hand. "What?"
"That." Youji reached for the vial, but Aya held it out of reach. The brunet growled. "I don't want it. I don't need it!"
Aya closed his fist around the oil and shifted back off of Youji to kneel below him on the bed. As the Balinese tried to sit up to follow, he planted one hand square in the middle of his chest and pushed him back down. "I'll decide that," he said firmly.
Youji pushed back, then let himself be held down. He turned his face away. "Bastard..."
The hand on his chest relaxed slightly, though he could feel Aya was still ready to press him back if he moved. "You curse a lot when you make love, don't you?"
Youji twitched. "Shut up." He gasped sharply as the tip of Aya's oil-slicked index finger traced the ring of muscle around his entrance. "If you weren't--" Slowly, the finger pressed in, setting off that reflexive full-body clench. Aya's second hand abandoned his chest and caught his thigh near the knee, beginning to massage gently. Youji tried to even his breathing.
"If I wasn't what?" The single digit pressed slightly further, caressing the membranous inner wall as it went. Youji squeezed his eyes shut, breathing heavily through wide-parted lips. Aya leaned forward to lap at his upper lip, sliding in a second finger as he did. Youji gasped.
"So... Ah~hn..." Aya's fingers twisted inside him, then spread slightly, stretching him. It was almost-pain, just too goddamn good...
"Sexy and articulate," Aya snorted.
"Fuck you," Youji bit out, jamming two knuckles of his right hand between his teeth and biting down hard as Aya withdrew, added more oil and entered him again with three fingers. Youji writhed, his left leg drawing up closer to his chest, right stretching out halfway, toes clenching and unclenching along with every other muscle in his body, it seemed. His breath was coming very shakily. "I don't--need--this--" he panted around his knuckles. "You know I don't."
"Sometimes," Aya agreed. Youji let out a soft keen as a fourth finger spread him wide, fighting the urge to squeeze his legs shut, instead moving back against the fingers invading him, taking them further in. "When you're relaxed. Not now."
A half-growl sounded in Youji's throat. He thrust down, trying to impale himself, only to have Aya withdraw. "Shit, Aya, stop teasing. Who says I'm not relaxed, damnit?"
Aya snorted again. "You're tensed to snap. If I was blind, deaf and stupid, I could still feel it. Your back and your neck are knotted to hell, the rest of you is taut and practically humming." He reanointed his fingers and pushed in again. "Don't tell me what you don't need."
Youji threw his head back into his pillow. "When'd you become so goddamn perceptive?"
"Saa."
Youji's teeth sunk a little deeper into his fingers as he abandoned himself for a few strokes to Aya's careful ministrations. Aya didn't do this often--not this thoroughly. Youji wouldn't have put up with it most of the time--he hated to wait--but much as he hated to admit it, Aya was right; it would've hurt, in the condition he was. Kuso... the hell does he hafta know everything for?
This wasn't something Ken would have done at all. Whether Youji was in the mood, or tense, down, whatever... Siberian didn't notice. Aya had no business being able to tell... giving him what he wanted when he asked, giving him what he needed before he realized it himself. It wasn't fair, he shouldn't be able to...
He felt Aya lean forward, then the tickle of fine hair over his abdomen just before the redhead's tongue caught him in a slow sweep of his erection from base to tip. Youji cried out, losing his grip on his knuckles and dropping his hand to clutch the sheets instead. "W-wait..." he gasped, other hand going to grasp at Aya's hair as the Abyssinian moved to lap at the swollen head. "I don't... wanna come before. Please, Aya... I'm ready now."
The younger man leaned over him, eyes the most amazing play of lighted and shaded amethyst as they bored into his.
Youji caught his breath. "Ne, Aya..." Goddamnit, Aya had no right being able to make him beg. Not when Ken couldn't. No one but Aya could. "Now?" Aya watched him for a moment, expression inscrutable. With gentle fingers he stroked back some of the sweat-damp tendrils clinging to Youji's cheek. Youji turned his face into Aya's palm, half-impatient, half-wanting. "Mou ii darou, Aya." He closed his eyes, recogizing the humility in his voice and almost ashamed at his lack of shame. There was some part of himself he felt safe giving Aya that he always had to protect from Ken. "I want you, Aya. Please?"
Aya gave one last, excruciatingly pleasurable twist of the fingers within him before withdrawing, leaving Youji feeling hollow, wanting the rest even more.
"How?"
"Oh, however," Youji said, exasperated. "Just now!"
"However," Aya repeated, what might have been the hint of a laugh in his voice, Youji couldn't tell. Strong hands grasped Youji's waist, pulling him upright and pushing him quickly, yet carefully up against the pillows stacked against the headboard.
"Aya..."
"Quiet," Aya murmured, arranging Youji's legs with that gentle efficiency. His lips brushed Youji's, then his tongue was tracing the shell of his ear. One hand took hold of his shoulder, pressing him back into the pillows, the second slipping down to the curve of his rear, pulling his hips forward as Aya's spread knees pushed under his thighs. Youji shivered, his hands going to Aya's shoulders, clutching tightly. Aya eased him closer, his torso at an angle, till he could feel the lubricated tip of the redhead's erection resting at his entrance. He swallowed. Aya's head came back, eyes on him again. "Why do you say things you don't mean?"
Youji opened his mouth and Aya covered it with his, kissing slow and deep before he withdrew. "I--"
"Shh," Aya shook his head. "You don't owe me an answer."
"But--" Youji's eyes widened as Aya entered him, just barely, his body stiffening. Then Aya's hands on him were massaging, soothing the tension out of his body. His breath shuddered as he took it in. "M-more..." Aya's eyes fixed his, and he felt unable to blink. His blunt fingernails dug into Aya's skin as the younger man shifted their hips, pressing another inch of hard flesh into him.
Youji gasped, eyes tearing slightly with the effort of keeping himself still, not clamping his legs around Aya's waist and driving home himself, not squeezing his eyes shut against the intensity of this excruciatingly slow joining. Somehow he couldn't bear to lose the connection of this shared gaze. Hard as it was to maintain, he didn't want Aya to look away.
A half-smile quirked Youji's lips. He fought to keep his voice steady as he spoke. "If you... insist on doing this... one inch at a time... we're gonna... be here a while."
Violet eyes creased. A soft, velvety laugh. "Flattery?"
Youji shuddered as Aya eased fractionally further into him. "Hardly." Youji forced his arms to relax, gradually releasing the vice-grip he had on Aya's shoulders. He raised his hands to cradle Aya's face, his touch light. The redhead turned his head to kiss one of his palms.
"I've got all day."
"Sou?" Youji breathed deeply, eyes falling to half-mast as he settled back among the pillows. He was struck all at once by just how good this felt, the pillows softly supporting him, Aya's hands on him stemming all tensing of his limbs before it could start, filling him so slowly, letting the pleasure build till he was drowning in it.
Youji sighed, feeling his body melt, though his groin felt unbelievably tight. Aya pushed in again and he finally saw some sign of passion cracking the redhead's perfect composure. He was flushed just slightly, breathing open-mouthed though quietly. Youji shivered. If this pace was making him so hot he could barely stand it, Aya had to be almost in pain...
"Mou ii," Youji whispered, stroking the soft skin of Aya's cheek. Aya's lids fell slowly, violet eyes gleaming through meshed lashes as they lifted even more langorously. "I'm okay, Aya. Take what you want." He couldn't help moaning as Aya sunk deeper. He gave up, closing his eyes and biting his lip. Aya kept both of their hips perfectly still, letting him adjust to each stage of this gradual penetration, making him acutely aware of every inch of the searing hardness spreading him wide.
Impossibly painless, amazingly complete, this joining. Desperately as he wanted Aya to hurry up, fill him entirely, start to move, he couldn't bring himself to act against Aya's unspoken command. He had to leave this to him.
He felt lips softly pressed to his forehead, then each of his eyelids in turn as Aya penetrated him just a bit more. "This is what I want."
"Sadist," Youji said half-heartedly, slipping his hands down to run over Aya's chest, then sliding around to clasp his back. "You just like to hear me beg, don't you?"
Aya's arms went around him, and Youji's mouth opened silently as the redhead finally seated himself within him.Their bodies were sealed together, motionless but for pulse and breath. Aya nipped at his ear. "When have I denied you?"
Youji's head was swimming. He let it fall back, exposing a long stretch of throat that Aya obligingly took advantage of. ... When? Youji tried to think, he wanted an indignant answer. His fingers tensed against Aya's back. Never, maybe. Not really. But how is it fair that you give me what I want instead of what I say?
"Naa, Aya..." He caught his breath as the redhead drew out of him marginally, pushing back in only barely faster than he'd first entered.
"Aa?"
Youji became aware of Aya's heartbeat against his own chest. His eyes opened in surprise. It was flying, fast and erratic. With his own pulse so quick, it ought to make sense, but for some reason it jarred. As Aya's arms held him so steadily, and as he began to move within him with such perfect control, it jarred.
"I'm sorry," Youji breathed. He whimpered quietly as Aya found that perfect angle--pressing hard into the exact right spot. "I'm sorry, Aya."
"I don't care, Youji. You weren't trying. It didn't hurt."
"Not just that."
"What, then?"
Youji swallowed, feeling his grip on coherence slip as Aya continued this steady rhythm, bringing his lust slowly but surely to that fever pitch they usually reached almost immediately. He pressed his face against the side of Aya's, closing his eyes. He heard Aya's breath hitch, felt his partner's grip on him tighten with a strange answering ache in his chest.
"Youji..." He trembled. There was something in Aya's voice... something beneath the confidence, the control, the calm. At least... he thought there was. Maybe he just wanted--no, he definitely didn't want there to be anything more. It was bad enough as it was.
"I'm sorry," he whispered again. His teeth sunk into his lower lip. He couldn't say the rest. I've been unfair to you, Aya.
Aya shuddered as he felt Youji's muscles contract around him. The older assassin's long legs drew up and linked behind his back, drawing him closer even as Youji buried his face against his neck, his arms under Aya's own tightening till the embrace was almost painful.
An involuntary moan forced its way out of him. He was trying to stay as steady as possible, but all his vaunted self-control seemed on the verge of abandoning him. Youji always made him feel urgent, almost frantic in his desire, and usually that was the way sex was between them. They threw themselves at each other, moved fast and hard to a stunning climax, and often did so repeatedly before walking away. It wasn't that either of them lacked stamina--they had had long, drawn-out sessions before. Just not quite like this.
Today it was different.
It was just... whatever had been wrong with Youji, and how strange Aya had felt after talking to Omi... It was only because they were both off today that it felt different. That was why all he wanted was to make this last; why he knew there wasn't going to be a second time today and this one had to count; why he wanted to stay inside Youji, keep the oak-haired bishounen breathless and in his arms as long as he could. That was... the only reason...
... Why he couldn't keep his breathing or heartbeat even.
Why he was so acutely aware of how Youji's body fit to his and how many places he could feel his lover's pulse--against his chest, within where they were joined, in the moist lips open against his skin.
Why he felt like something large and uncontrollable was unravelling in his stomach.
Why he didn't care that his building tension was beginning to hurt. He wanted this to go on...