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~*~*~*~*~
It might have made more sense if it was Omi who innocently started him down the slippery slope toward reckless disregard for life and limb with these thoughts, Kudoh Yohji mused darkly, but instead it was Ken.
Ken. Eating one of the offerings left behind by the high school girls who mobbed the Koneko each day in the hectic hours between regular school and cram school. Last week it had been homemade mochi - most of it barely edible. Momoe-san's cat had gotten even fatter. This week it was candy. Chocolate. Expensive and imported. The one Ken was currently torturously close to finishing off had been a long thin bar in a yellow wrapper, marked with bold but bland English lettering in blue. "Flake". Whatever that was. Omi had told him the word had something to do with separating things.
But the only thing Ken was going to 'separate' was Yohji from his self-control... or his sanity. Both of which had already been stretched by a frustratingly pointless altercation with Aya earlier. With a stifled sigh, Yohji tore his thoughts away from their frequently sullen, dangerously sexy but apparently libido-less - and currently absent - teammate, even as his gaze was again drawn toward Ken from behind his thankfully concealing sunglasses as the jock took another bite of the crumbly chocolate bar. Ken's tongue dove out of his mouth immediately to try to catch the small cascade of bits from the attempt. He was holding a cupped hand under his chin to catch the spill, however, well-prepared from prior experience, and the dark brown crumbs fell in a thick sprinkle across his palm. Ken paused a moment, running his tongue slowly and with an uncharacteristically sensual thoroughness around his lips to clean up the few bits that stuck there. Yohji's blood went from simmer to low boil.
Then Ken lifted his hand higher, clearly intending to lick up the bits rather than waste them. Yohji swallowed hard, already far too familiar with what would come next. The chocolate would melt, either from the heat of Ken's hand or the warmth of his breath, and then the jock would carefully and thoroughly and enthusiastically lave every last trace of it off his palm and fingers before humming contentedly and taking yet another bite of the stuff just to begin the whole process over again.
This had been going on for the last ten minutes or so. Omi had only lasted through the first round, fleeing for the safety of his room with a hastily stammered excuse about homework but with his wide eyes gone strangely glassy and unblinking in a flushed face; Yohji himself was nearly ready to burst into flames. It was a good thing business had been slow this afternoon...
Apparently this chocolate was good stuff. Good enough that Ken was practically making erotic performance art out of eating it. Mr. sweatsocks-and-jockstraps. Bluff, unimaginative, and relentlessly het - or so he'd always thought - Ken. Ken, who he'd never had more than a distant appreciation of as an icon of healthy, well-muscled male before, but this... performance... was threatening to change his mind. And there was just something so essentially disturbing about lusting after Ken that made Yohji shift uneasily on the stool beside the cash register, heartily glad that his lower body was hidden behind the counter.
But then something occurred to him, taking him another long step further along that road toward major hospitalization: Aya liked chocolate too. And if this stuff was good enough for Ken to act this way with it...
Images bloomed and his mind promptly threatened to short-circuit, conveniently muting all remembrance of Aya's earlier annoyance with him. Particularly the pointed use of the word 'die'.
"H-hey, Ken," he said hoarsely, after two attempts to clear his throat. He gave an aborted squirm on the stool as Ken turned to him with one finger stuck deep in the damp 'o' of his mouth to get at a particularly stubborn bit near the join of his palm. "Er... did the fangirls happen to leave more than one bar of that stuff behind?"
"Mumpfh... um, yeah... think so..." Ken managed, after drawing the finger out slowly with a pop and a last swipe at a stubborn bit on the tip with a curled pink tongue. Yohji's eyes threatened to cross behind his sunglasses - not just because of Ken's actions, but because his far-too-fertile imagination had already substituted Weiss' resident stoic redhead in his place as the main actor in this one-man porno show. The jock groped around on the table beside him for a moment, shifting things aside while Yohji almost held his breath, then waved three more of the bars in the air. Yohji let his eyes roll briefly toward the heavens in silent thanks.
"Lemme have one of those. They look... good." What looked good was the mental image he had of a heavy-eyed and flushed Aya doing that very same maneuver to his own finger... or Yohji's finger... or something else... He almost fell off the stool in his distraction.
"Mmm... oh, they are..." Ken moaned, rolling his own eyes dramatically but obligingly tossing one of the yellow bars in his direction. Yohji caught it and slipped the precious bar into the pocket of his apron. He had his prize, now to find a way to make his vision reality...
"It's been awfully quiet in here for the last hour. I think we can get away with closing fifteen minutes early, don't you, Kenken?" Yohji said, carefully adjusting the apron over the bulge at his crotch as he stood up.
To his distinct relief, Ken agreed.
~*~*~*~*~
Closing shop, even with only the two of them, had been accomplished with the minimum of fuss and only one major heart palpitation for Yohji when Ken sucked the last of the chocolate bar out of the wrapper with slow finesse, clearly savoring every millimeter of it as he practically let it dissolve on his tongue. Yohji had had to file that one away too as exceptional fantasy-fodder. Not that his own perverse little brain couldn't come up with something equally as good... but a certain image, inspired by Ken's performance, had stuck with him all during closing and clean up.
Of Aya... naked... on his knees... eyes hooded as he ate the chocolate treat from Yohji's fingers... sucking on his fingers as the thick, sweet confection dissolved between them... licking them clean afterwards... Aya's normally hard mouth slick and slightly pouting, open and waiting...
Yohji let his mind white out with lust as he finally left the flower shop behind for the day, his body moving on auto-pilot. He came back to himself in the upper hallway leaning against the wall outside his own room, aware that he was, in all likelihood, close to actual drooling but not really able to care for the moment. He was hard, he was hot and he was incredibly horny after watching Ken all but perform fellatio on a candy bar for the last hour and he wanted very, very badly to see Fujimiya Aya do the same thing... just for him.
A touch of mocking self-disgust bloomed. Fantasy was all well and good, yet here he was, Kudoh Yohji, renowned playboy, mooning about in the hall like a schoolboy denied sight of his crush. It was his own damn fault Omi had sent a curse-muttering and furious Aya out of the shop just after mid-afternoon on the final two deliveries for the day and told him not to come back to the shop when he was done. Omi had turned big disappointed eyes on him for it after the fact, but Yohji had had to do it. The temptation had just been too much to resist... to skim a hand down the long, lean line of Aya's back as he reached down a vase from the front display for an elderly customer. That might barely have been something Aya could ignore on it's own - everyone knew Yamaguchi-san had poor eyesight, after all - but when the old lady had grinned at him from behind her hand for the gesture, clearly amused by it, he'd dropped his own hand down further, winked boldly back at her and had given Aya's tight, rounded ass a firm squeeze through his nicely tailored black slacks. The yakitori cook in the stand across the street had probably heard Aya's rather undignified yelp of shock. Only Yamaguchi-san's presence had kept Yohji from an immediate and painful retribution, most likely. But oh, the look on Aya's face... Why was it those 'die now' glares of Aya's directed his way just made him all the more eager to provoke the next one? Self-consciously he wiped his mouth and chin with the back of a hand, somewhat relieved to find it drool-free. But his pants were still too damn tight... He tugged at the fly of his pants through the shop apron as his earlier fantasy of having Aya on his knees loomed vivid and persistent in his mind again and he promised himself that this time he wouldn't deal with it alone.
He pushed away from the wall with determination. First thing first, since he'd apparently committed himself to this doubtlessly suicidal tact, was to track down Aya. Second, he had to figure a way to get the very likely still annoyed redhead to try the candy without loss of life or limb. Third - and most importantly - hang around for the show.
The first part was easier to accomplish than he'd hoped. He had supposed that an Aya with a suddenly free afternoon and some aggravation to burn off might have gone to practice katas in the attic gym. Facing him armed wasn't high as a preference, but need drove him to the risk. Since Aya's room was along the way anyway, he decided to check there first. A short walk up to the next floor, a quick knock on Aya's door, a gruff acknowledgement from within and he was stepping inside, pulse throbbing eagerly.
Too easy. Yohji leaned back against the inside of the door after closing and locking it behind himself, mind abruptly going blank as he gazed at his objective.
Aya was sitting with his left knee up, that leg bent over the other as he sat curled in his heavy, overstuffed reading chair beside the window, dressed casually in loose sweatpants and a worn tee-shirt, a book open and braced against the raised knee and his heavy-rimmed glasses slipping down his nose as those incredible violet eyes began to narrow. He had watched Yohji's entrance silently, if suspiciously. Locking the door behind himself had earned him a wary bunching of deep red brows over those incredible eyes. Aya's temper appeared to have cooled, but it didn't take long for the angry fire to rekindle in his gaze as he picked up on Yohji's tension.
"What are you doing here, Kudoh?" he demanded after a moment, his low tone forbidding.
The direct approach was probably best, if the most dangerous, Yohji managed to muse through the haze of lust that had descended over his reason again at first sight of the redhead in such an unusually relaxed pose. Aya was big on being direct. At least, it was always that way when they fell all over each other after a mission, blood high, nerves taut. Their hands seeking... mouths urgent on straining flesh. Oh, yes, Aya was very direct then, he thought with a fervent mental groan. But only after missions when adrenaline ruled and the guilt of killing - and surviving - ran rampant in them both. Encounters that were too hot and too fast and definitely far too long between for Yohji's taste.
But those scorching moments of mutual need were nothing like this moment. Now, the need was all on Yohji's side, the adrenaline riding his blood inspired by Ken's harmless display and his own frustration, and not a night of killing; the handy justification was gone and he'd been reckless enough to let lust carry him here to invade Aya's private domain. He'd never dared before. Oh, he was so dead... what had he been thinking? Yohji swallowed hard against a suddenly desert-dry throat. Okay, he hadn't been thinking...
"Kudoh..." There was distinct annoyance in the way Aya said his name. Left over from earlier? Too late now. He was committed. He had to think of something clever fast or the least Aya would do was throw him out. Patience wasn't one of Aya's strengths. Yohji groped in the big front pocket of his shop apron - hell, he was still wearing the damn thing! - until his hand closed around the chocolate bar. He pulled it out, blinked down at it for a moment, then risked tossing it Aya's way. To his relief, the other man reacted by snatching it from the air rather than batting it away. Wrapping crinkled loudly in the sudden silence as Aya continued to just watch him.
"You seemed pretty... annoyed earlier. My fault." All Yohji was able to force to his lips was a small smile, despite the blood throbbing thick in his veins. "One of the fangirls left these behind for us. Ken says they're good... so I thought you might like to try one before he got to them all." The smile was all he could muster, though. His normal smooth charm had abandoned him somewhere along the way - along with his reason, it seemed.
Aya glanced down at the candy bar in his hand long enough to read the label, blinked once in surprise as if he somehow recognized it, then shot a quick, sharp glance at Yohji from under his bangs and over the rim of his glasses. The violet gaze seared him, weighing his words, his posture, his tone, suspiciously. He hoped desperately that Aya would accept the candy as the peace offering it was... well, at least partly.
"Ken says?"
"Aa," was all Yohji could manage, his fantasies from earlier tumbling through his mind again, the images sharpened by the sight of Aya's lean, strong fingers actually holding the narrow yellow and blue package.
Aya's gaze pierced him for another long, silent moment. Hot. Daunting. Dangerous. Leaving him suspended with breathless anticipation. He thought he might just burst into flames from that gaze alone. Then slow lids came down, shuttering violet fire behind thick lashes.
"It's milk chocolate from England. This kind is different because they make it layers," Aya said, his voice low, but with far less of the menace of moments ago. The tone was almost husky now... caressing. After a pause where all Yohji could do was watch him and breathe, Aya deliberately closed and set his book aside on the windowsill, took off his glasses and set them carefully atop the book, then shifted forward in the chair. Aya uncurled like a great hunting cat, slow and deadly, until he was sitting on the edge of the seat, elbows braced on knees, chocolate bar dangling between. Yohji swallowed carefully, vaguely unnerved, but his pulse still leapt and began to throb even faster in his veins.
He'd been the one to come here and push the boundaries again after Aya had warned him off earlier - too reckless and horny to fully count the cost - but somehow, with that one move, Aya turned the tables on him, answering his impulsive intrusion with a subtle challenge. Yohji's cock swelled further and began to ache, caught awkwardly in the tight pants he wore beneath the enveloping apron. This wasn't the reaction he'd honestly expected from Aya. It had seemed far more likely for Aya to fling the candy back at his head and demand that he leave at once.
But Aya was just turning the wrapped bar over in his hands lightly, examining it thoughtfully. Yohji couldn't have moved if he wanted to, trapped somewhere between apprehension, anticipation and aching longing. "I've seen ads for this 'Flake' in imported magazines," Aya went on suddenly. Aya's skill in English was exceptional, both spoken and written. Unlike Yohji, who could get by on light conversation and road signs and that was about it. Yohji's gaze locked on Aya's thumb as it ruffled the stamped end of the long, thin wrapper, making it crinkle loudly in the sudden silence.
"Heh, well, Ken really seemed to... um... enjoy it," Yohji ventured hoarsely as his mind tormented him with ideas for other long things Aya could be running that thumb over. Then he blanched a little as Aya deftly tore the end off the wrapper and tossed the scrap aside, shaking the package a bit to slide the contents free.
"Hn. As I recall, this brand also has a rather... suggestive advertising campaign." Aya lifted the chocolate to his mouth, capturing Yohji's gaze. Aya paused a moment to run his tongue slowly over his upper lip before he opened his mouth further and slipped the end of the candy bar inside, closing his lips around it gently, but firmly. Yohji's head thumped back abruptly against the door and he was certain he stopped breathing entirely for a single stunned moment, his gaze riveted helplessly on the sight of Aya's lips locked around the slim bar almost exactly as he'd imagined.
But as good as his imagination was, he thought with near-giddy appreciation, oh how it paled before exquisite reality...
With torturous slowness, Aya's mouth slid further over the bar and Yohji groaned out loud, rolling his hips slightly in a vain attempt to ease his trapped and straining cock. His hand slipped under the apron and he adjusted himself with a soft hiss, his gaze flickering over Aya's face. Violet eyes blazed at him from under ragged bangs. The pale throat worked slightly, lips and tongue moving. He heard a soft crunching sound and then the bar shattered in Aya's mouth. Little chocolate bits rained down Aya's chin, coated his lips. He raised his other hand automatically to catch some of the bits, but they fell everywhere, making a mess. Aya frowned slightly as he swallowed, his tongue poking out to gather some of the chocolate and draw it back into his mouth, eyes gleaming the while.
Yohji's brain threatened to melt in his skull and dribble out his ears; he was certain in that brief instant that Aya eating the chocolate he had given him was the single most erotic thing he'd ever seen in his life. He didn't even remember moving. One second he was leaning against the door trying to figure out how to breathe again, the next he was kneeling in front of Aya's chair, a hand already wound tightly in the thick hair on the side of Aya's head as he leaned forward and licked fragments of chocolate from the corner of the other man's mouth. Rich. Smooth. Delicious. The chocolate wasn't bad either.
"Fuck," he gasped against Aya's skin, his eyes sliding closed in relief when he realized Aya hadn't tried to push him away yet.
"I'm eating it, Yohji," Aya said in a hushed tone that almost seemed mocking. "Isn't that what you want me to do?" Startled, Yohji pulled back enough to catch the violet gaze. Saw heat in the depths, need. A shadow of wariness. A glint that might be wicked amusement, but no real annoyance. He didn't understand the change, but he didn't want to question it right now either, he just wanted... Aya licked his lips again slowly and deliberately, dampening them further.
"Oh, God, would you?" Yohji murmured huskily, emboldened, his gaze locked on the sight. But before Aya could answer Yohji tilted the red head back, slanted his mouth over the other's, and pressed his tongue deep into that damp, open mouth greedily tasting chocolate and temptation and Aya. Aya's free hand rose and caught his shoulder. Flexed there, but didn't try to push him away as tongue met tongue and tangled fiercely. Kissing him back... Aya was actually kissing him back. Startled, Yohji hummed into Aya's mouth, pleased, and shifted himself closer to the other man, reaching out with his free hand to slide it around Aya's waist and tug.
If he was going to die for this later - after Aya came to his senses - he'd make sure it was well worth it first. There were so many things he'd been longing to do with Aya...
Aya was already on the edge of the seat. At the tug, he slid off of it and onto Yohji's lap without any hesitation, their mouths still welded together. Nearly giddy with surprised delight, it took him a moment to identify the source when something crinkled behind his head as Aya's other arm wrapped around his shoulders. When it did, an idea flared in his lust-hazed mind and he released his hold on Aya's hair and mouth, hands dropping to the loose tee-shirt the other man wore and stripping it off in one impatient move. Aya let him, leaning back enough for him to get it free and raising his arms just enough to help. The candy bar wrapper crinkled loudly again from where it was still clutched in Aya's hand as he dragged the shirt over it.
Yohji tossed the shirt aside and caught that hand, guiding it to Aya's mouth and pushing him backwards with a hand on his chest until his shoulders lay against the seat of the chair behind him. The pose left him slightly stretched, long, muscular chest and stomach displayed openly. Yohji swallowed hard, breath coming faster and harder. Beautiful. His gaze ran down to where the loose pants dipped low beneath the shallow dip of Aya's navel, perilously close to where he knew the sparse red hair began below... He snapped his gaze back up as Aya's head tilted down; eyes glittered at him from beneath lowered lids and tumbled bangs as he watched Yohji watch him over the chocolate bar he still held in front of his mouth.
"Take another bite," Yohji demanded, voice raw. Aya's gaze flickered for a moment, gauging, weighing. Then, with the faintest of smiles, he opened his mouth again, sticking his tongue out a little way this time to meet the bar. He sucked it with torturous slowness into his mouth, held it a moment, lips a loose 'o' around it... then bit down again. Fragments of chocolate rained down on his chest, scattering across pale skin and blush-colored nipples.
Yohji leaned forward, the move rubbing Aya's firm thigh over his rock-hard erection held fast beneath skin-tight pants. He groaned at the feeling, even through layers of clothes and apron. Opening his mouth wide, he swiped his tongue slowly up Aya's sternum, tasting the faint tang of salt along with flashes of chocolate.
Much better, he thought. This was so much better than a quick, desperate fuck after killing. Seeing and touching and feeling so much more this way... He'd wanted to take his time with Aya for a long time now and wondered, a little frantically, if this might end up being his one and only chance.
But the thought faded before the heat of now. He brushed Aya's hand aside, avidly watching a small trail of chocolate bits appear on a curved pectoral muscle, just above an exposure-peaked nipple. He followed the trail with his mouth - his own hair dragging across Aya's skin, his tongue leaving a damp line on pale flesh - until he reached his goal. He pursed his lips over the soft nub of Aya's nipple, licking it until it hardened further in reaction. He played with it gently, suckling the sleek ring of flesh around the core of it, until Aya shifted a little beneath him, tensing, but not in a good way. Perhaps made uncomfortable with what could be seen as too feminine an action... or maybe just annoyed by a waste of time. Yohji glanced at him sidelong from beneath strands of his own hair, releasing his prize long enough to let a wry, knowing smile curve his lips. So much to learn... for both of them... he wanted to know it all...
"Doesn't do anything for you that way, huh? How 'bout this then..."
Before Aya could answer - if he even would have - Yohji opened his mouth slightly and let his canines close carefully around the stiffened flesh beneath him, biting down gently. Aya made a sharp, surprised sound, then the chest below him heaved. Yohji grinned and gave another tug and Aya about came off his lap, arching up, neck twisting on the chair seat as he made a deeper grunting sound. A hand tangled in the hair at the back of Yohji's head, holding him in place. He grinned and kept his teeth around the bit of flesh, rolling it slightly and letting his tongue lave just the very end of it before he gave it another gentle tug. Aya made a new sound, almost a whimper this time, his hand flexing painfully in Yohji's hair as his body shuddered. He looked up, pleased to find Aya's eyes closed, his face flushed and his chocolate-smeared mouth open slightly as he panted for breath.
Almost like his fantasy...
Blood throbbing, Yohji reached to the side and broke off the end of the chocolate bar clutched forgotten in Aya's hand. Brought it back to his own mouth, releasing Aya's nipple to suck on the chunk of chocolate for a moment. It crumbled and melted in his mouth, rich and creamery smooth. Sinful. But not as sinful as the pale expanse of Aya's chest laid out before him... all for him. Yohji made a pleased noise and pulled the piece slowly out of his mouth, then brushed it carefully over Aya's reddened nipple, making sure to leave a soft brown smear behind.
"Delicious. Should I bite it?" he whispered the question and Aya groaned. He looked up to find hooded eyes watching him intently. "Should I, Aya?"
"Yes..." Sound more than a word.
He smiled, holding that gaze as long as he could as he moved forward to take Aya's nipple into his mouth again. Biting down carefully but firmly on slippery-sweet flesh and pulling it toward himself. Aya's body arched into his again, fluid and strong. Melting in Yohji's arms as surely as the chocolate scattered over his flesh had. After several minutes, he finally let the nipple he was tormenting go, following a thin line of chocolate across Aya's chest with his tongue instead. Listening with distinct satisfaction to the moan of disappointment Aya gave when he did so, absorbing the small impatient squirm against his body eagerly.
This was nothing like he'd been downstairs earlier. Cold. Stiff. Furious. Was nothing like Aya had ever been with him before even in the few heated times after missions, actually, and part of Yohji's brain boggled over the change even as the rest of it just savored the difference. Then any further thought faded before the demands of desire as he ran his hands slowly down over Aya's ribs and stomach, fully aware of the streaks of chocolate left behind on warm skin from the bit he still held. He left it to melt in the dip of Aya's belly button as his hands continued down to the loose elastic waist of his sweatpants, drawing it down until his thumbs lay against the inside hollow of hard hipbones, palms cupping them. The bulge of Aya's rigid cock was below, eager, hard, and trapped at an angle beneath the soft fabric and so still hidden from him.
But his thumbs froze on skin softer than breath before he could reveal more. Skin paler than hope. Vulnerable. Tender. This small expanse between unyielding bone and honed muscle. Like Aya himself, maybe. Arched on his lap, opening to him. Opening himself to him here and now for some unknown reason... for distraction... for lust... for... him...
Yohji's mind hazed with need and he licked his way down creamy skin as far as he could reach from his position. He shifted his knees back with a groan of his own for the loss of friction against his cock, consoling himself for the temporary denial with the fact that it gave him more room to taste Aya's flesh instead. He took full advantage; cleaning up chocolate streaks with slow sweeps of a flattened tongue, then letting lips caress damp skin, teeth nip gently at the edge of ribs as he shifted inexorably down.
But he paused when he felt a hand touch his head, felt fingers thread through his hair, clench and flex, halting him for an instant at belly-level. He looked up the length of Aya's body, letting short breaths wash unsteadily across taut, trembling skin. Wanting so many things suddenly - things he didn't want to acknowledge - with an intensity that shocked him, alarmed him. He tried to distract himself by thinking of all the ways Aya could kill him right here and now, but even that gruesome reality didn't deter his foolishness. He could kill Aya just as easily, but wouldn't. Couldn't. He looked into Aya's face at last, searching for distance again. For the ice he expected. For a shred of control...
He found none. To his astonishment, Aya looked nearly feverish with need. His face was flushed, his eyes heavy, his gaze bright; blurred lips parted, as he watched, to let small, panting breaths escape. Incredible. Stunning. He ached in response, mind in a whirl. Ah, who knew Aya'd be so hot for having his nipples gnawed on? Aya made a soft sound - urgent, urging - and Yohji smiled wickedly back at him, giving up and accepting his fate in that moment. He was Aya's. Utterly. Had been, really, from the moment Aya first came to him after a mission, desperate and edgy and about to shatter. And he knew he would do anything to keep this open, needy look on Aya's face as long as possible... and then to put it back on Aya's face over and over again...
"Take off the damn apron, Kudoh," Aya said, licking his lips, his gaze smoldering.
"Take it off me," he whispered in return, voice low, teasing, a measure of his own control returned by his realization. Aya's gaze cleared slightly, dangerously, maybe, but his hands dropped down without hesitation and tugged at the knot at Yohji's waist, chocolate bar still crinkling in his grasp. Yohji's smile deepened as Aya impatiently drew the strings free from around his back, caught the front of the loosened apron in his unencumbered fist and dragged Yohji down toward him by the strap still looped around his neck. A searing look, a twitch of lips, then Aya kissed him - hard and quick and brutal - before shoving him back upright.
"Do the rest yourself," Aya said, before lifting the chocolate bar to his mouth again and sticking his tongue out to swirl it around the end of the bar, his gaze locked on Yohji's. Demonstrating that he didn't yet understand how badly that mangled his ability to function or even do simple things like remember how to breathe. Yohji groaned, hips rocking forward once. No, it would be better if Aya never realized just how far he was gone on him or he'd likely be in real trouble then. Aya was humming in pleasure, eyes closed to slits like a cat's as he licked his lips slowly, chocolate flakes tumbling down his chin again.
Yohji barely managed to get the apron off the rest of the way without choking himself to death. He flung it impatiently aside, then took the opportunity to hastily unbutton and shrug out of his shirt too. Aya watched him the while, tumbled red bangs shadowing his eyes as he lapped slowly, deliberately at the battered chocolate bar in his hand.
"Fucking tease," Yohji muttered, dropping back down over Aya, hands braced beside pale shoulders on the chair seat.
"Horny idiot," Aya murmured around the chocolate bar.
Yohji laughed softly, delighted, as Aya fixed his gaze on him, hot and taunting, and his lips twitched around chocolate. Aya was attempting to tease him, he realized. It made heat run through his body, started an odd flutter near his heart. "Horny I won't argue, but an idiot...?"
Yohji slid a hand down sleek skin, over smears of chocolate. Slipped his hand unerringly under the low scoop of Aya's sweatpants and found the straining cock beneath. Took it firmly in hand. Aya hissed and arched up, eyes closing, head tilting back, chocolate bar falling away to the side again, forgotten.
Yohji grinned in triumph. Stroked the hard silken length slowly. The end was damp and slick. He ran his thumb over the head, swirled the slickness around carefully, listening to Aya's breath hitch and catch, watching a faint flush rise in fair skin in response.
"Still an idiot?" he whispered.
"Unnnn..." was all Aya replied.
Inarticulate was good. Begging would be even better. Grinning at the fanciful notion - he might as well wish for the moon while he was at it - he bent his head and leaned closer, laying his lips over Aya's open ones. Licked his way into the sticky-sweet mouth, chocolate-rich and damp. Thrust deep after a moment, mimicking the slow pace of his strokes on Aya's cock in the slide of his tongue along Aya's. Shuddered slightly when he felt Aya's hands fumbling along his waist until they reached the button of his pants, worked it free. Groaned when urgent hands yanked the zipper down. Relief and a rush of pleasure surged through him when his cock slipped free at last, hindered only by boxers beneath.
Hard fingers stroking over the head even through dampened cotton made his own hand flex on Aya's cock, his tongue dive deeper into Aya's mouth. Groans that had no clear source now filled his ears, finer than music. He was fully aware only of the arch of Aya's body beneath him - the grind, the heat of him surging into his hand over and over - but it didn't quite manage to distract him from the feel of Aya's hands working his own cock free of underwear; one hand slipping down to cup his balls despite the still-awkward restriction of pants, the other spreading his own copious pre-come over the length of him with short strokes.
This was the first time Aya had touched his cock other than to hold him in place as he impaled himself upon Yohji in those desperate encounters after missions. Both of them still often as not in full gear... Aya conceding the necessity of lubricant alone... allowing no stretching or other preparation... just forcing Yohji inside himself... into tight, nearly impossible heat... then driving them both to a frenzied, blood-wrenching finish... allowing no unnecessary touching at all. Only recently had he allowed Yohji to kiss him - and then only before. It was Yohji who pushed for more in the days and nights between missions. Leaning over Aya's shoulder. Putting his hand on the small of his back to let him know he was behind him. Brushing fingertips and hands and arms against Aya's body on the flimsiest of pretexts. Or none at all... like earlier today, in front of Yamaguchi-san. He hadn't been able to resist touching him in the shop where Aya couldn't, wouldn't retaliate, but had never dared follow Aya to his room later to insist on more. Until today - until Ken drove him beyond his endurance with a simple bar of chocolate. And now, here, in this fragile instant... it was so different he almost wanted to cry out... Aya was touching him... reaching for him just as greedily as he always reached for him.
Aya's hands on him felt so unbelievably good.
Yohji tore his mouth away from Aya's at last only to press his head against the side of Aya's as he gasped for breath. So good. Mouth and hands... bodies together... He licked his own chocolate-sticky lips as he slowly shifted over Aya, surged up with one thigh and slipped it carefully between Aya's. Pressed forward until he could feel the heavy weight of Aya's balls and the base of his cock through both their pants, then eased back to let his hips settle over Aya's, groin to groin. Aya moaned, shifted, arched up against him. Let Yohji's balls go to work that arm free arm and wrapped it around Yohji's back to brace himself.
Aya was holding him close, but holding on to his cock too, even through the narrow gap of too tight pants and the mutual press of body. Hard, sweat-dewed flesh beneath him. Heated flesh that seemed to ache for and crave his own. Hands that bumped together between as hips shifted closer. And he wanted to fuck Aya more than he wanted to breathe in that moment... to feel that heat from the inside... the incredible crush of Aya's body around his own... Instead of acting on that longing, Yohji turned his lips into Aya's hair, bending down until he was held up only by an elbow braced on the chair seat. He loosened his grip on Aya's cock, cupping it instead, lifting the length up against his own hard belly above loosened pants.
"Move," he gasped into Aya's ear through deep red hair. "Move against me... Aya... under me..." The damp tip of Aya's cock jumped against him and the lean body beneath him froze for an instant, trembling faintly. A betrayal or truth? Or just uncertainty, maybe, now that he'd reminded him of the differences this time. It had only been fucking between them before, after all. Get in. Thrust fast and hard. Get off. Get out. This was so different... less need and more want... something that was frightening enough in it's implication just in his own head... but Aya had let it happen... was still letting it happen.
"Feel me... I'm so hard for you..." He stroked his hand down the back of Aya's cock, pressing the ridge, the slick head, the whole of it tighter against his own belly beside where Aya's hand fisted over his cock. Hissed out more unsteady breath and words, "...As hard as you are for me. Just feel it and move, Aya."
And he did, shifting against the chair, shoulders sliding a little away even as he lifted his hips against Yohji's, arm slipping up Yohji's back to cup his shoulder with steel-strong fingers as brace. He drew up his outside knee to bracket Yohji's thigh, making a secure hollow for him to nestle into, groin to groin. Making every attempt, it was plain, to get closer to him, to do just as Yohji had suggested and feel him. And then he moved. Sleek. Controlled. Strong. Aya's lean hips rolled up into him, sliding the hard cock deeper into his grasp. He stroked it in time to Aya's own thrusts, the motion shifting Aya's clenched hand over him as well, making him grunt and hiss in pleasure, words failing him completely. Enough pre-come and sweat between them to make each movement damp, slick, and pleasure-filled. He could only answer that movement helplessly, their bodies falling into perfect rhythm without more than token effort, trained by battle and desperation to match each other with ease.
Beyond good... beyond anything he'd fantasized about... Yohji couldn't tear his gaze away from Aya's face as they rocked together toward bliss.
The red head rolled back against the chair arm. Face flushed, jaw slack. A darkened purple gaze tried to lock on his, but blurred and disappeared behind heavy lids. Aya's slightly swollen and chocolate-smeared lips were parted as he took ever faster, panting breaths. Beautiful and abandoned. Aya in his arms like this -- touching him, being touched by him. It was almost too much.
To his initial dismay, they didn't come together. Too eager, too enchanted, or maybe just too long wound up, he came first, the steady drive of his hips faltering at last as his balls drew up tight and the thick white pulses of come splashed over his fingers, over Aya's fingers and across mutual skin and belly as he grit his teeth and groaned as if he were dying... oh, god, he was dying, in the best way... losing himself, losing his mind... everything vanishing in the aching, rushing relief of release and the feel of Aya beneath him, beside him, with him. Somehow, he managed to keep up his own strokes; his own come just making the slide of his hand over Aya's cock even smoother, hotter, faster. Making Aya cry out and grind up against him all the more, tight and trembling, dropping Yohji's spent cock to clutch at his hip instead and pull him against him harder, arms and body trembling.
Yohji lunged forward and covered Aya's gasping mouth with his own. Speared his tongue deep as Aya shuddered beneath him, arched up, twisting, seeking. Fingers digging into Yohji's shoulder and hip, clutching him tighter and tighter until Yohji's racing hand drug his release from him in one long, muffled cry that shook them both, reverberating from lung to throat to mouth as Aya spurted between them at last, slick-hot and endless, his hips moving after in two last short, choppy surges before he collapsed back down, spent.
Yohji sagged over Aya, eyes closing, heart pounding hard in his chest, as he let his mouth drop away from Aya's so they could both suck in deep, restorative breaths. Incredible. Completely fucking incredible.
Better than his dreams. Better than his fantasies. Much, much better than beating off alone, he mused contentedly. Especially as they lay there ,bodies pressed together, drowsing on the floor, more off than on the chair, for several minutes before Aya shifted and frowned, murmuring about a crick in his neck. Yohji moved away from him reluctantly, rolling back until both his shoulders were braced by the chair, half afraid Aya would push him further away now, but was mollified when Aya followed him almost immediately, burrowing against him without hesitation, thick red hair rubbing against his jaw.
"Unnnh," Yohji managed after another drowsy while, trying to distract himself from the increasingly insistent desire for a cigarette. For some reason, his mind was far more alert than his body. Which was drained. Completely. "God. Amazing."
"Hn," was Aya's eloquent contribution, but he made no attempt to move. Yohji found himself grinning, aware of a strangely odd warmth somewhere in his chest. But lack of lavish praise for his skills as a lover aside, it was pretty nice, lying there with Aya half on his shoulder, an arm draped heavily - and a little possessively, he noted - over his chest, but the reality of half-undone clothes and a bare, hard floor soon made itself felt. At least to his tailbone.
"These pants have to go," Yohji muttered, glancing down at their legs. His own pants were halfway down his hips - but only just. They were practically skin tight, after all. The gaping zipper was scraping his hipbone, and his boxers had been twisted into an uncomfortable roll just under his butt. He shifted slightly, trying to ease the press, but only managed to find a new spot to irritate instead. And, of course, now that he was conscious of it was impossible to ignore. The indignity was only compounded by the fact that Aya didn't seem uncomfortable at all, since he was wearing sweatpants, which were soft and loose enough to at least be down around his knees.
He shifted Aya to the side, leaving him leaning with head pillowed on folded arms on the seat of the overstuffed chair. This earned him a one-eyed glare from beneath tumbled, sweat-dampened bangs, but no other comment, as he graciously stripped Aya's tangled sweats away first before squirming out of his own pants and boxers. He tossed them aside, sitting with his arms wrapped around his own knees beside Aya for a moment, a pleased grin creeping inexorably back onto his face again.
Chocolate and spunk. Aya was covered in it. There was a particularly large smear around his belly button, brown and white run together. A shower was definitely called for. But not just yet...
"What are you grinning about?"
Yohji shrugged, grin undimmed. "I'm thinking about a prime investment opportunity I just discovered."
A red brow lowered as a violet eye narrowed. "Investment?"
"Yeah, I'm going to buy stock in the company that makes that chocolate," Yohji said, unable to hide the smirk as he went on, "I wonder if they know it's better than turtle soup for getting things going..."
Aya snorted once and his eye rolled closed beneath his bangs, apparently not feeling the need to deal him any damage for the comment - verbal or otherwise. Yohji's grin only widened as he shifted closer to Aya again, draping himself over his shoulder before brushing red hair away from his eyes enough to kiss him on the temple. He lay there, savoring the contact. After a moment, Aya snorted again but didn't shrug him away. Real sex seemed to leave Aya amazingly docile, Yohji noted cautiously. It was nice to lay here with Aya like this, but they could be more comfortable elsewhere.
Like on Aya's bed. Yohji glanced at it longingly. He had a thing about that bed, even though it was narrow and doubtless hard as a rock. He'd wanted to sleep in it - with Aya, of course - ever since the night he put Aya in his own bed after Ken cold-cocked him on his first day in Weiss. He mentioned that to Aya now, whispering it into his ear, and was pleasantly surprised when Aya just agreed that the bed would be a better place to sleep than the chair. Docile wasn't quite the way to describe Aya just then; nearly comatose was probably closer to the truth.
He even got to carry Aya to bed again. Well, not really. It was more of a mutual drag and stumble that ended in a jouncing fall than anything else. But the result was both of them sprawled together and naked on Aya's narrow bed, which was what was really important.
Aya lay on his side, one arm trapped beneath Yohji's shoulders, the other snaking back around Yohji's waist as his chin tilted up and he took slow, deep breaths. Dark eyelashes fanned on his cheeks. His face was flushed and relaxed - maybe for the first time ever in Yohji's experience. Yohji lay beside him, his own arm draped with blatant possession over Aya's hip, trying to memorize the sight and not let his mind start picking at the moment, anxious to find out if it would be repeated... And how soon. A little tension seeped back into his body, making Aya shift against him.
"Sticky... shower..." Aya murmured, frowning. Yohji chuckled, leaned down and kissed Aya's forehead again.
"You'd never make it to the bathroom," he murmured against Aya's skin. "Damn, I'm good, aren't I?"
Violet eyes snapped opened as he drew back, fixing him with a clear, piercing look. Maybe not as comatose as he had supposed. Yohji waited nervously for the ice, the distance to return, but it showed no sign yet. He almost held his breath, waiting for Aya to give him a sign of what to expect. But he'd have to kick him out of the bed now, he vowed silently.
"This is okay," Aya said, voice heavy with intent. But not angry.
"This?" Yohji said, sliding his leg against Aya's, tightening his grip on his hip in illustration. Just to be sure, of course.
Aya snorted, turned slightly. A lean hand shifted up, touched Yohji's hair. Fingers threaded through to scalp, making the sensitive skin tingle as they stroked deeper into the mass of his hair. Tangled. Lingered. "You and me, idiot. Like this... I don't mind. Just..."
Surprised Yohji raised his head, heart pounding suddenly. Aya's hand fell down with the motion, trailing down his jaw, catching on his chin. He stared searchingly into Aya's face, startled by the curiously smug but almost fond light he found in the other's eyes, the quirked lips. It nearly stopped the breath in his lungs, made his heart lurch in a way he'd never thought it would ever manage again. "Just?" he prompted quietly.
Aya's gaze narrowed warningly. "Don't grab my ass in front of Yamaguchi-san next time."
He smiled in relief, shifted closer, bent down and caught the hesitantly curving lips with his own.
"Of course not," he breathed against them, feeling Aya's arms slip back around him, tight and sure. "I'll let her do it herself next time..."
- - fin - -