Yeah, It's a Bit Unusual

A/N: this is an old fic of mine that i was thinking about earlier, and i decided to post it for kicks. this is a songfic... kinda. aya wants yohji. yohji wants aya. aya sings a song. yohji gets the girl... er, redhead. if you'd care to, read on.

song is "it's not unusual" by tom jones


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Yeah, It's a Bit Unusual
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“Yohji-kun, I thought the only bars you hung out in were the nightclubs downtown?” asked Omi as he scanned his surroundings.

“Nope, chibi, I frequent this joint quite often. You’d be surprised how often a chick wants to come to a place like this. Her and her friends will just go crazy, and it’s quite entertaining to watch. I’m especially hoping to see Aya tonight.”

“In your dreams, Kudoh.” Yohji glanced over at the redhead, a pout about to form on his lips. Aya did his best to ignore it, but he couldn’t help but think that Yohji looked completely adorable…

Aya quickly stopped his mind from going down that track. He was only here to placate Omi, who had nearly cried when he had refused earlier in the evening, though Aya was well aware it was nothing but an act. Why the hell had he fallen for it? Looking around, he could only wish he had been a little more forceful in that refusal. The three men stood silent for a moment, until Ken joined them after his afternoon practice.

“Guys, it is now officially Karaoke Night!” Omi cheered happily, and Yohji was grinning in some manner that confused Aya. God, how did he get suckered into this? It only served to annoy him on the surface, but underneath his ice, it reminded him of when his sister used to take him to karaoke bars and force him to sing with her. Even though it was a good memory, it still brought pain, along with the physical reminder of the place he was currently in, and he vowed to have no fun tonight.

The four men grabbed a table, and Ken and Omi immediately started to fight over the songbook. Aya watched impassively as Omi turned on his “chibi-eyes,” as Yohji called them, and Ken gave in, handing the book to Omi. Meanwhile, Aya tried to tune the singer on the stage out as he was singing a horrible rendition of some American song.

“Hey, Yohji, all these songs are in English,” complained Ken.

“Well, yeah, the owner is American. But see, when people are drunk and come here, it’s funny as hell to hear them try to sing in another language. My dates and me come here for sheer entertainment…sometimes. It can get quite dark in here.” Yohji leered in Ken’s direction after that last comment, causing him to blush and hurriedly look at the book in Omi’s hands. Aya watched Yohji chuckle to himself, confident that he had just been playing with the athlete. Of course, whether he had been or not didn’t matter… did it?

Again Aya derailed his train of thought, confused why he was having them at all. Well, no, not confused. He knew exactly why he was having the thoughts. He was just confused as to how and when the thoughts had begun to occur. Yes, he was attracted to the tall blonde, but what person wouldn’t be? A blind man could see how sexy the man was…

A painfully off-pitch note shattered Aya’s thoughts, and he looked toward the stage. A man was busy escorting a drunken woman off the stage, her turn at the microphone over. The night continued on in the same fashion, annoying Aya to no ends, until he was sure the next singer would find a katana protruding from his neck… if he had it. Not to mention the added irritant of Yohji going on and on about how many dates he’d “entertained” here and what exactly they did on said dates just to get blushes from Omi and Ken. And each new girl made Aya’s temper flare higher and higher, until he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Yeah, Omi, she really could do it. She’d take the grape and…” Yohji jumped as Aya slammed a hand down on the table.

“Enough, Kudoh. Did it ever occur to you that not everybody wants to hear about your conquests? So you want to prove you’re a great lover or something? I think we know after living with you for so long. We are in no mood for this, so shut. The fuck. Up.”

Aya did not receive the reaction he had been expecting. He was expecting an angry comeback, a scathing remark about how he had no life and how could he constantly go around with a stick up his ass. Instead, Yohji stared at him, a small grin on his face and asked, “Why, Aya, are you jealous?”

And Aya could have taken it as a tease had it not been for the look in Yohji's eyes. This look was lonely, forlorn even, telling Aya in so many ways that Yohji talked big because of a desperate need to feel alive, but even the nightly womanizing wasn’t taking away the hurt and loneliness. The depth of the feeling nearly drowned Aya, until he lost any realization of what he was doing.

Omi, Ken, and Yohji watched as Aya walked to the stage, their mouths falling open in shock when he grabbed the mic from someone about to sing and glared him off the stage. When the up-tempo music began, the three men watched in wonder as Aya began to sing in perfect English:

“It's not unusual to be loved by anyone.
It's not unusual to have fun with anyone.
But when I see you hanging about with anyone,
It's not unusual to see me cry,
I wanna die.
It's not unusual to go out at any time,
But when I see you out and about it's such a crime.
If you should ever want to be loved by anyone,
It's not unusual it happens every day, no matter what you say.
You find it happens all the time.
Love will never do what you want it to.
Why can't this crazy love be mine?
It's not unusual to be mad with anyone.
It's not unusual to be sad with anyone.
But if I ever find that you've changed at anytime,
It's not unusual to find out I'm in love with you
Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh”

And as he sang, Aya stared into Yohji's eyes, trying to convey what he couldn’t in words. Even the act of singing brought memories of Aya-chan to the fore, and he tried to blink back tears. He didn’t want Yohji to see him cry, to misconstrue the tears as being for him. Yet, would it be such a bad thing if they were? Somehow, even after all that had happened to him, he found that he was sad for Yohji. He had cried every tear he had for his family. Maybe now, he could cry for someone else, someone who could see the tears, appreciate them, dry them…

When the song ended, Aya calmly placed the microphone in its stand and exited the stage. He passed the table with his teammates and headed for the door. They had taken Yohji's car, but Aya didn’t mind the walk. He enjoyed the cool wind of the night and hoped it would clear his head.

Reality was beginning to sink in of what he’d done. He’d practically confessed undying love to the playboy of Tokyo, and now he had to face him at some point or another about their continuing relationship. Now why had he used that word? Being killers together didn’t constitute a relationship, and if it did, it was one so fucked up, it was laughable. Of course, he was getting ahead of himself here. Yohji might be so thoroughly disgusted that he’d just pretend it never happened. And what’s the chance Yohji knew enough English to get the gist of the song anyway?

“Aya!”

Shit.

“Aya, would you wait up?”

Aya slowed his pace, but he didn’t stop. When Yohji was beside him, he detoured his route and led them to a park. Sitting on a bench underneath a leafless tree, Aya waited for his feelings to be squashed beneath the daunting presence of Yohji's disgust.

“That was an unusual song to sing, Aya.”

“Hn.”

“It was almost as if it were a message of sorts.”

“…”

“Did you know I could speak English fluently, or were you hoping I wouldn’t pick up on what you were telling me?”

Aya closed his eyes. Lady Luck was a fickle bitch, if one believed in such things.

“You sing quite well, Aya.”

“Hn.”

“Do it often?”

“…I did, with my sister.”

“Then I say we make this a weekly thing. The chibi would enjoy it, and it would give you an opportunity to tell me how much you love me.”

Aya’s eyes flew open. He turned his head to stare at Yohji, who was looking off into the distance as if remembering something from long ago. When he turned his attention back to Aya, he was smiling slightly, a new light shining in his eyes.

“You know, Aya, I’ve never had anyone serenade me quite like that. I think, in return, I should give you something that tells you how I feel.” When Aya stared at him uncomprehendingly, Yohji leaned in and stole a kiss, as well as Aya’s breath.

“Yohji…” Aya sighed as the blonde pulled away. His hand was grasped in Yohji's and he was pulled to his feet.

“Let’s go back. I told the kiddies I wouldn’t be long. They really liked your voice, you know.” Yohji began to walk back to the bar, his hand holding tightly to Aya’s.

Aya looked at their hands and let a small smile touch his lips, the lips Yohji had kissed.

“Do you think this will work, Yohji?”

“Only one way to find out. Now, let’s hurry. It’s my turn to sing.”

Aya followed Yohji, hand in hand, thinking that maybe it might be a little unusual after all, but completely worth it for this small amount of happiness.

~owari~


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thanks for reading!