Gemstone Eyes

A/N- Heh. Sorry for the wait, but its close to Christmas and I have been busy. :) Thank you, as always, to everyone who has reviewed...you are the lights of my life, and this season is the season of light, so I appreciate you all the more. Much hugs. Here\'s the next chapter! Hope you all enjoy!!!
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“We’re not quite home yet, go back to sleep,” the blonde whispered, and Aya nodded sleepily. Yohji offered his shoulder again, not surprised when Aya declined.

“You’re too bony.” Aya looked at him through tired eyes. “Need something more comfortable.” Before the taller man could even react, the Weiss leader had scrunched up on the seat and laid his head in his lap. Yohji barely dared to breathe. It was like having a bird land on your finger that you desperately didn’t want to fly away. An appreciative sound came from Aya and before long the only sound in the backseat was the redhead’s even breathing.

Hesitantly, fearing it to be chopped or bitten off, Yohji reached out a hand and gently touched Aya’s hair. Nothing happened. So he let his hand rest on the satiny strands. Still nothing, and he became braver. He began to stroke the slightly tousled head in his lap, amazed at the smoothness and fineness of the crimson locks. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Aya. The beauty in his lap was so extraordinary, and Aya didn’t even suspect. His hand began to stray from hair to silky ivory skin, tracing over his companion’s ears and cheeks and forehead. Aya never stirred until the cab arrived home.

Someone was petting him. Petting. Him. Violet eyes cracked open. Aside from his side being mildly cramped, he was quite comfortable. He felt the jerk as the vehicle he was in came to a stop. That’s when he took in where he was. Yohji’s lap. He was about to be pissed, when he remembered that he himself had chosen to lie there. He suppressed a blush and sat up, carefully not looking at Yohji as the taller man paid for the cab ride. They got out and walked towards the shop door. Yohji unlocked and opened it, stepping inside and listening carefully.

Nothing. Ken and Omi must be finished by now, he reckoned. Just as well. Aya entered behind him, closing the door softly, and Yohji turned to him and grinned, walking towards Ken’s door and motioning Aya to follow him. Curious, the scarlet-haired swordsman followed as the taller blonde stopped at the door, putting his ear to it.

Snoring resounded through the wood, and Yohji smiled. It wasn’t Ken’s normal, raucous sound though. His hand closed on the knob and turned it. Open. He cracked the door and moved over, looking meaningfully at Aya. The redhead appeared beside him, and they gazed into the ex-soccer player’s bedroom.

Exhausted from hours of play, even after their initial coupling, the two youngest Weiss had decided to call an early night after another round in the shower. They were sprawled on Ken’s double bed. The brunette lay on his back, legs flung to each back corner of the mattress, and his arms wrapped tightly around the peach-gold form of the youngest assassin, who was sprawled, chest down, half on top of his bronze lover. Omi’s head was tucked under Ken’s chin, and the older boy’s neck was curved to the side, his cheek resting against the golden hair. That angle was what was causing the muted snores. Omi had one arm tucked around Ken’s shoulders, and the other curled up to rest by his body on top of the other assassin’s, fingers curled against the skin of Ken’s chest. Omi’s face was to them, and a peaceful, contented look rested there.

‘He’s got a freshly-fucked look,’ Yohji snickered to himself.

Aya was privately amazed at how Omi had born the noise and fallen asleep. But the two of them together both filled his heart with happiness for them, and tore it apart with loneliness for himself as well, making his chest ache. He snuck a look at Yohji. Rebecca’s words echoed in his head. ‘He may not date them, but he sure as hell flirts, dances, and goes to bed with them.’ Maybe Yohji was not quite so out of reach after all.

Looking back at Omi, Aya was intrigued by the look of absolute tranquility that had settled over the angelic features. Omi was always full of emotion, and you could almost always tell what emotion it was. But even with that, Aya had never seen, in all the years they had raised Omi, such a look of profound harmony on the delicate face. Omi looked as though he had everything he could ever want. It went beyond happy. Aya found his heart aching again, and it whispered to him that he could be that peaceful too, if he could overcome his notion that his job necessitated detachment. His heart longed for Yohji Kudou, and Aya, for once, let the longing well up inside him until it became so much that his breath caught.



Lightness against his eyelids and a small noise stirred Omi to wakefulness. Slitting his eyes open against the light, he made no move to stray from the warmth and protectiveness of Ken’s body and embrace. His eyes adjusting, he saw Aya and Yohji looking at them both from the slightly open door. His mind reeled with the information that Aya had indeed gone out with Yohji, before coming to a crashing halt as he looked upon the redhead in question. Aya’s amethyst eyes were wide, shimmering with emotion as they flitted periodically from the sleeping pair in front of him to his blonde companion. The melancholy in those eyes almost broke the little blonde’s heart. He and Ken had to find a way to get Yohji and Aya together quickly. Speaking of, his gaze switched to Yohji, eyes opening wider, noticeably awake, as he caught the smug expression on the playboy’s face, affection smiling in the green eyes.


Yohji started as Omi’s eyes came suddenly open, fixing on him. The young lover smiled sleepily at him, arm tightening its hold on Ken’s body. Flashing him a brilliant smile, Yohji was unprepared for the almost imperceptible fading of Omi’s when the blue eyes switched to gaze over his shoulder. ‘Aya?’ He turned quickly, and caught violet eyes looking at him softly, white teeth gently biting at Aya’s bottom lip, before the other man registered the turn and his eyes hardened, though not to the point of annoyance, and the lip was let go. It had been there again in Aya’s eyes, that longing for something. Turning back to the duo in the bed, Yohji met Omi’s eyes looking at him meaningfully, trying to tell him something. But Yohji was too tired to get it. He waved slightly, then shut the door.


Aya sighed. It had been a long night, and he was tired. He looked up at the taller man, noting the similar tiredness in the emerald eyes before roving to the soft honey colored hair, the golden-tanned skin, the sculpted lips he’d come so close to earlier…Lust, an emotion Aya had little, if any, association with, suddenly flared up in him, and something from earlier poked at his mind. This was the second time in only a couple of hours he’d felt lust for this man. The first had been during the tango, although he had blamed it on the music before the song had taken him over and he had forgotten all about Yohji, lost in his own world. But with its return, he found he couldn’t blame the music anymore. He wanted Yohji. Wanted more than just the uneasy friendship and close working relationship they now shared. Wanted more than just that closeness to the taller assassin that could come with friendship. He wanted what Ken and Omi had obviously shared tonight.

He came back to himself, seething and privately raging at himself for thinking that way. Life didn’t work that way, not for Weiss. But the part of him he was beginning to hate pushed forth the image of Ken and Omi sleeping in the bed together. It protested his decision, for weren’t Ken and Omi Weiss as well?


The next day dawned bright and clear. With no mission the previous night, all four florist-assassins had gotten a wonderful night’s sleep, or should have. Omi and Ken felt they had never slept so soundly, nestled in each other’s arms. Yohji and Aya on the other hand, hadn’t had such an easy time falling asleep.

After an awkward goodnight, the redhead had retired upstairs to his lonely room. Shucking off his clothing and donning a pair of sweatpants, he had slipped under his covers, book in hand, but his bed was so big…and he felt very alone. Trying to bury the irritating sensation, he scowled over the rims of his reading glasses at the words on the pages, but it wouldn’t go away. Sighing rather heavily, he cursed Yohji’s name as he put the book away and decided to try for sleep. But the sound of the shower coming on downstairs distracted him.

“Damn Kudou and his nighttime showers,” he growled to himself. But before he could get the chance to bury his head under a pillow, an echo of a slight moan floated up to him. Sitting up quickly, he turned his reading lamp back on and stared at the door as if it had made the desire-laden noise. ‘What in all the hells is he doing?’ Another moan, louder this time, answered his thoughts. Aya gulped as his mind presented him with an image of Yohji in the shower, honey hair darkened to the color of tarnished gold with the wet, and water running over his golden skin.

Slipping out of bed, he softly opened his door and padded out into the hall. Yohji would never change in the fact that he always thought jerking off in the shower masked the noises he made. Aya knew exactly what he was hearing, and his body was drawn to it. He shuddered and leaned against the wall, watching the bathroom door, as another, slightly more ragged moan emanated from the shower, followed closely by a whimper. Aya’s eyes closed as his brain conjured up the image of Yohji, golden, wet with water streaming down his body, and naked, touching and stroking himself in the shower.

This image prevailed above all else, even exhaustion or irritation, and Aya was only slightly surprised to find his body reacting. He was only human, after all. What he did find surprising, and even a little amusing underneath the irritation, was the desire to go and surprise the blonde in the shower, maybe even help him out. His mind took the idea and ran with it, and soon Aya was imagining that he was the one causing each and every whimper and groan that came from the showering man. The redhead had one hand down his own pants, panting lightly as he leaned heavily against the wall. At a particularly desperate sounding moan from Yohji, he gasped, smiling slightly at whatever his mind was showing him, and his hand sped up its glide over his erection.

The Yohji in his head was close, very close, but Aya wouldn’t let him come. Not yet. A pitiful whimper sounded, and Aya bit down hard on his lip in order to not answer it. His hand was flying over his hot flesh now, his hips bucking into his grip as he indulged in the erotic daydream. He knew Yohji boasted about his stamina, but he hoped the blonde wouldn’t try and hold out for too much longer. He was getting rather lightheaded with the pleasure his body was registering, and he squeaked as his thumb brushed over the head of his arousal.

“Yohji….Yohji please…” he whispered to the air as the pace increased again. The situation in his head had changed, and now it was the blonde pressing him against the wall of the shower and driving him to dizzying heights, that wouldn’t give him completion. “Yohji..” he whimpered as a muffled cry came from the bathroom. It escalated in volume and pitch as Aya felt himself rushing towards oblivion, too close to stop now, driven by Yohji’s moans. He bit down on his lip as it was suddenly upon him, filling him with burning, numbing ecstasy. He opened his mouth to whisper the taller man’s name, when Yohji’s cry reached a crescendo and another name was heard.

“Ohhh…Aaaahhh….AYAA!!” The redhead’s body jerked as that voice crying HIS name immediately brought on a second blinding flare of rapture, and in his shock he forgot to keep himself quiet, letting out a soft cry as his muscles tensed a second time before going lax and dumping him to the floor.

How he made it back to his room or into his bed was a mystery to him, but he awoke there the next morning wrapped around a pillow, clinging to it in much the same way he had seen Omi clutching Ken. Disgusted with himself, he flung it away. He still felt rather drained, but as it was his turn to open the shop, he dutifully stood, rather unsteadily, and grabbing a towel, headed for the shower, refusing to think on the events of the previous night.

TBC.....
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~Tareacel