What Naughty Boys Get For Christmas

A/N: Weiss is owned by Takehito Koyasu, Project Weiss and various other licensors and creators. No infrigement is intended, and no profit is being made from this work of fiction. Minor is included in the warnings only because Omi will be involved, and technically, since this would be sometime before Gluehen, he is still a minor in my state, though above the typical age of concent.

First chapter is Yohji/Aya, other pairings to follow.

What Naughty Boys Get For Christmas


“On the first day of Christmas my true love...” Yohji entered the kitchen singing in badly accented English, causing Aya to lower the newspaper and level a hard violet stare in his direction.

“What is that?” Aya demanded, wide-eyed and disregarding his annoyance at the mangling of the cheerful Christmas tune.

“Hmm?” Yohji answered, humming the song as he opened the refrigerator and reached inside for a beer. “It\'s nearly Christmas, Aya. I\'m sure you must have heard carols before,” he said from inside the chill space.

“Not the song,” Aya snapped, eyes fixed consideringly on the tantalizing sight of Yohji bent over in his quest for a snack to go with his drink. “What are you wearing?” he finished as Yohji straightened and turned to face him again.

Yohji didn\'t answer right away, instead twisting open his beer and taking a long drink. He lowered the bottle and leaned back against the kitchen counter, offering Aya a slow, lazy blink over the top of his sunglasses, lips curled in a self-satisfied smirk.

Even though Aya knew Yohji\'s smug expression was largely based on the fact that he couldn\'t stop staring, he still didn\'t look away. The leather pants weren\'t much of a surprise, though it was a bit early for Yohji to be getting ready to go out. To Aya the most surprising aspect of the clinging leather pants was the bright, screaming red color. The shirt was the same almost violent shade; cropped and sleeveless in Yohji\'s usual fashion, but adorned with fluffy white around the hem and shoulders, with a line of small balls of the white material marching down his chest. Perched on top of carefully tousled light brown locks was a Santa hat.

“I was thinking,” Yohji said, ignoring Aya\'s almost inaudible snort of disbelief, “that while Santa certainly does do a good job bringing toys to all the nice girls and boys, there should be someone bringing very special gifts to the naughty girls and boys.”

Aya stared at his fellow assassin and sometimes bedmate as if the other man had gone insane. While he sat there, Yohji set his bottle of beer down on the counter and stalked toward him on silent feet. Yohji bent, feathered the fingers of one hand through Aya\'s hair and traced the shell of Aya\'s ear with the tip of his tongue.

“By all reports,” Yohji purred, all warm breath and indecent promise, “you\'ve been quite a naughty boy this year, Aya.”

Aya swayed, involuntarily leaning into Yohji\'s touch before recalling himself and pulling away. One hand on the table, the other still loosely twined in Aya\'s hair, Yohji offered Aya an indolent smile. The expression quickly faded as Yohji slicked his tongue over his bottom lip, following it with a quick drag of teeth that darkened the flesh to a deep, inviting pink. The hard glitter of lust in Yohji\'s eyes was Aya\'s undoing, and he didn\'t resist as Yohji coaxed his face up and drew close to his waiting lips.

Despite the heat in his eyes, Yohji\'s kiss was gentle, a teasing brush of his mouth across Aya\'s. He hovered there, barely touching, until Aya made a slight motion forward. Instead of meeting Aya\'s advance, Yohji pressed a harder kiss at the corner of Aya\'s mouth and then let his lips skate across the soft skin of Aya\'s cheek. Aya turned his head, trying to capture the lips that fled from his, a softly sighed breath of longing escaping him. His fingers loosened, and the newspaper he had been reading before Yohji came in fluttered to the floor, pages scattering across the surface.

His hands lost without something to hold, he settled them on Yohji\'s hips, fingertips caressing the smooth leather. Yohji\'s lips ghosted over Aya\'s jaw and moved on to trace a path of kisses down the side of Aya\'s throat. Here, he was more aggressive, teeth closing on skin with the barest hint of painful pleasure. Aya growled, fingers spasming on Yohji\'s hips then clamping down hard as he tugged Yohji down with a twist that resulted in the playboy being deposited neatly in his lap.

Well... Maybe not neatly, Aya mused as he he looked at Yohji. Cheeks faintly flushed, his hat skewed and in danger of falling and moist lips parted in a quick, surprised breath, Yohji looked anything but neat. He looked, Aya thought, as if he needed to be thoroughly kissed. Aya reached up, pulled off Yohji\'s sunglasses and sent them skittering across the tabletop with a flick of his wrist.

Before he could do anything else Yohji was moving. He rose slightly, swinging one leg around so that he straddled Aya on the chair, his hands pushing hard on Aya\'s shoulders. With an almost desperate sound in the back of his throat, his lips locked against Aya\'s, tongue sliding sharp between eagerly parted lips. His kiss was fit to bruise, rough and slightly sweet, and Aya saw waves of blue-black light behind his closed eyelids.

Aya\'s hands ran up Yohji\'s thighs, one slithering around Yohji\'s hip and curling around the smooth curve of his ass, the other cupping the hardness that pressed insistently against the red leather that confined it. He opened his eyes as he hauled Yohji forward, pushing him tight against the hand on his cock.

Yohji\'s lips ripped away from Aya\'s as he threw his head back, gasping harshly, hips grinding forward. The hand behind Yohji moved, Aya\'s fingers tangling tightly in Yohji\'s hair and forcing him down so Aya\'s lips could fasten on the edge of Yohji\'s collarbone bared by the scooped neckline of his shirt. He sucked on the salty skin, raising blood to the surface and then biting down. He felt Yohji shake over him, the hands on his shoulders squeezing hard. Yohji whimpered as Aya drew back, blowing lightly on the damp spot.

Panting, Yohji curled his fingers around Aya\'s wrist, stopping the motion of the hand between his legs. He stood briefly, a tug on Aya\'s wrist compelling the other man to follow suit. Yohji shifted his seat to the top of the table, quickly removing Aya\'s shirt and tossing it over the back of the recently vacated chair. He wrapped an arm around Aya\'s waist and dragged him close, flicking the tip of his tongue against the hollow at the base of Aya\'s throat.

He nuzzled there, intent on devouring the taste of Aya\'s skin with tiny, biting kisses that forced a low moan out of Aya. Helplessly, Aya\'s fingers tripped across the bare skin of Yohji\'s back beneath the cropped shirt. He hissed when Yohji\'s mouth traveled lower, a rough scrape of teeth across his nipple. Yohji swiped a warm tongue against the pebbled surface, his hands now busy at the top of Aya\'s slacks.

Aya shuddered when Yohji\'s hands dipped into his open pants and found aching flesh. Carefully, Yohji freed Aya\'s eager cock, a slow stroke of his hand making Aya thrust into his grip, breath ragged. Yohji gave a satisfied grin, sliding down off the edge of the table without letting Aya move, the fluffy trim on his shirt tickling Aya\'s chest and stomach as they stood pressed close together.

Roughly, Yohji pushed Aya\'s slacks and underwear off his hips, hands curling tightly around the curve of Aya\'s ass. His fingers flexed, and a moan caught in Aya\'s throat at the hard pressure of Yohji\'s touch. Yohji had lost all patience to tease, and his mouth descended on Aya\'s flesh, rough bites leaving swollen crimson marks on Aya\'s neck.

Aya canted his hips forward, his cock sliding against the warmth of Yohji\'s thigh. His fingernails stabbed crescent shaped cuts in the small of Yohji\'s back as Aya arched closer. Yohji shuddered and pushed Aya away, dragging the back of his hand over vermilion lips and staring at Aya with desperate eyes.

A sound almost like a growl came from Yohji, and he reached into a pocket that Aya would have sworn there wasn\'t room for in those pants. The foil packet and tube were dropped on the table, and Yohji\'s shaking fingers made quick work of the button and zipper at the waist of the scarlet pants. While Yohji eased his aching length free of the constricting leather, pushing pants and a black silk thong down just far enough to be effective, Aya tore open the condom that Yohji had dropped.

He lowered himself smoothly to one knee, meeting Yohji\'s curious look with an expression that would have been nearly amused, if not for the naked want that marked his face. “Since it looks like I won\'t be able to fully unwrap my gift,” he murmured with an almost-smile, carefully unrolling the condom down the length of Yohji\'s obvious impatience.

Yohji\'s knees trembled, and as soon as Aya had the condom in place, he reached down and dragged the redhead upright. His hands cupped Aya\'s face, his lips brutally assaulting Aya\'s until neither one of them could remember which way was up or the mechanics of regular breathing. Gasping, Yohji drew back from Aya\'s mouth and pulled Aya toward the table, moving a bit to the side. He pressed Aya face down on the table, leaning over Aya\'s back to draw Aya\'s hands across the table so that Aya gripped the opposite edge.

The surface of the table was cool under Aya\'s heated cheek, Yohji\'s hands on his hips coaxing them a bit higher, his legs a bit straighter. He heard the moist sound of Yohji slicking lubricant on his cock, his hands, and Aya whimpered, pushing himself back as far as his grip on the other side of the table would allow.

“Beautiful,” Yohji whispered, one hand caressing Aya\'s hip, two fingers of the other sliding slowly into Aya.

Aya hissed, writhing back against Yohji\'s hand, accepting the burning and the pleasure as part of the same package. He didn\'t know where one ended and the other began. Yohji was familiar with Aya\'s tastes, and his touch grew quickly rough, a hitch made his breath shudder as he listened to Aya\'s soft pants and low moans.

Fiercely, Yohji\'s hands closed on Aya\'s waist, a single hard thrust encasing him in Aya\'s heated flesh. Aya convulsed around him, the force of his thrust making the legs of the table scrape on the floor, the sound almost lost in Aya\'s inarticulate shout.

One of Yohji\'s hands moved to push down hard between Aya\'s shoulder blades, the other circling Aya to curl around his cock. Aya pushed back, groaning raggedly as Yohji\'s cock filled him, a burst of red flashing behind his closed eyelids with each forward snap of Yohji\'s hips.

Yohji made a sharp sound, the hand on Aya\'s back sliding up to press against the back of Aya\'s neck, the tips of his fingers tangled in the hair at the base of Aya\'s skull. Aya could feel beads of sweat dropping onto his back from off of Yohji\'s chin as the other assassin bent over him, breathing hard.

The hand on Aya\'s cock was just slightly out of sync with Yohji\'s thrusts, the sensations of being fucked and stroked alternating and driving Aya into helpless whimpers. Yohji\'s grip was tight, thumb tracing the head of Aya\'s cock on each hard stroke, smearing the drops there along the length of Aya\'s shaft. The skin of Aya\'s chest clung to the table, nipples rubbing hard against the wood.

The tone of Yohji\'s moans changed, gaining a biting edge, and he swore under his breath. He fisted his fingers in Aya\'s hair and slammed into Aya\'s body. Aya cried Yohji\'s name, his orgasm making him stiffen, coating Yohji\'s fingers with sticky wetness.

Yohji followed quickly, half-gasped words taking shape against Aya\'s ear as Yohji stretched out over him. Yohji\'s shirt was damp with a combination of their sweat as he lay tight against Aya\'s back, catching his breath. Feeling distinctly boneless, Aya was content to let him stay there for the moment, inhaling their mingled scents.

Their peaceful moment didn\'t last long. Sucking in a final quavering breath, Yohji stood, Aya flinching as he withdrew. Aya began to turn, an elbow and hip on the table, the skin of his chest slightly raw from rubbing on the surface. Before Aya could rise, Yohji was back, a damp cloth in hand. He leaned down to lightly kiss Aya\'s lips while he gently swiped the cloth over Aya\'s abused flesh. Aya sighed, giving Yohji another almost-smile beneath half-closed, content violet eyes.

“Merry Christmas, Aya,” Yohji murmured against his lips before the slow tangling of their tongues stopped all speech for a while.