Gemstone Eyes

A/N-- Arigato to my wonderful reviewers!!! Here is chapter two!!


“See if you can get some quality time with Omi.” Ken started, then blushed furiously. Yohji laughed and sauntered down to his room.

Ken watched him go, then looked absently at the stairs. Yohji was the only one who knew about his infatuation with the youngest Weiss assassin. Soon after Ken had realized it for what it was, not just brotherly affection, he had decided it was important enough that someone on the team knew. Omi obviously couldn’t know, and Aya would not approve. Aya didn’t even approve of Yohji’s women. Ken had his own opinions on that situation. He had long been playing with the idea that he was not the only Weiss member who fancied someone else on the team. So Ken had told Yohji about his feelings for the seventeen year old, and the lanky blonde had been more than understanding. He joked every once in awhile, when the two of them were alone, but Ken knew his secret was safe.

Sliently, he got up and padded upstairs. He heard nothing from Aya’s room, and walked down the short hallway to Omi’s. Listening, he heard the familiar soft thud of techno music, and the lightning speed clacking of computer keys. A tender smile spread across his face. Omi could have been so much more than an assassin. He could have been a top-notch computer anything, worked for any government he chose. All of them could have been so much more than assassins. Sighing, he pushed the door open.

Yohji took in his reflection, studying himself. He thanked the gods, as he did every day, for the gaijin ancestor who had given him the honeyed locks and emerald-green eyes Japanese women swooned over. He was dressed to kill tonight, for once figuratively and not literally. He had poured himself into shiny, supple black leather, so tight it fit him like a second skin. A creamy silk shirt just barely reached the low waistband of the pants, V-necked with laces instead of buttons. The long sleeves were loose, but not billowy, and a burgundy velvet tailored blazer finished the outfit. He, being Yohji, didn’t wear it of course, but slung it over his shoulder. His blonde locks were pulled back into a low ponytail, a few soft tendrils escaping to frame the sides of his face. Black shiny oxfords, red-tinted glasses, and tiny silver hoop earrings completed the look. Cigarette dangling from his lips, he left his room, intent on grabbing his keys and leaving until morning.

“Where are you going?” The demand turned his good mood to ice. Turning, he saw Aya on the stairs, poised and looking at him with flaring amethyst eyes. Not for the first time, Yohji felt something in the vicinity of his heart flutter when he looked into those eyes. That lilac gaze, hard and unyielding, surrounded by flawless porcelain and crimson red evoked something in him he tried desperately to bury. It wasn’t that Aya was a man…Yohji had long since admitted to himself that he was bisexual. Sex was sex after all, and if it was good, what did it matter what gender the partner was? No, it was that Aya was Aya. Frigid, demanding, unemotional, the perfect assassin. The very opposite of Yohji Kudou, and the very person he should not be falling in love with. Yet whenever he saw the pale man show any emotion whatsoever, be it anger, bloodlust, or disgust (most often directed at something Yohji himself did or said), he felt his heart jump, and knew then how drawn he was to the stony man.

Aya watched him, watched the emotions that flickered so easily across his face. His exuberance turned to surprise, then to annoyance. It still amazed him how the blonde could let so much be seen. Yohji made very little attempt, if any, to veil everyday emotion. Aya had to admit he had never seen anything drastic cross the older man’s face. Every once in awhile he thought he saw a flash of pain or fear, and even once, longing. But it was usually gone in an instant. The stoic redhead often wondered how it must feel to be able to be so open with the world, how a member of an assassin team could bear to have such a weakness. But Yohji was so damned determined to behave as anything but an assassin should.

“I’m going out.” Yohji forced his self-confident smirk across his lips. “Why, you gonna miss me?” Aya glowered, his scarlet brows furrowing slightly. Yohji sighed, and opened his mouth to bid the redhead a farewell.

“Aya, do you want to come with me?” His jade eyes opened wide as he mentally berated himself. That had slipped out, he hadn’t meant to say that. But the reaction he received instantly distracted him. Aya was looking at him quizzically, one eyebrow raised, and Yohji caught something in the gemstone eyes he had never seen before. There was a curiosity there, guarded of course, but backed by longing. Yohji’s heart leapt, but he squelched the feeling. He softly followed up on his offer. “Why don’t you come with me, Aya? A drink might do you some good.” He took a step forward, like one might approach a trapped animal. But whatever had flared in Aya’s eyes was gone. He was fixed with a haughty glare.

“I don’t drink.” The redhead’s rich voice intoned, before he retreated to his room, the door thudding closed behind him. Yohji was left at the bottom of the stairs, mouth ajar, gazing in confusion at the door the Weiss team leader had just shut.

He gathered himself together again quickly and scowled at the stairs before turning and grabbing his keys. “Bloody fucking hell.” He slammed the door hard behind him.

TBC....

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