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Wei� Kreuz › General
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Category:
Wei� Kreuz › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
2
Views:
1,255
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Weiß Kreuz, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Hair-pulling
Title: Response to "hair pulling" LJ prompt
Author: Genuinelie(s)
Rating: PGish
Characters: Weiss Kreuz, Aya/Yohji
Shoutout to Fireun.
*****
"Why do you do this?" Aya demanded, a hand on the lapel of Yohji's coat swinging his drunk ass from doorframe to wall before he could step inside the Koneko.
His head slammed against the wall, and briefly the alcohol, more than the impact, made stars of light flash and fade behind his retinas.
The hand slid against the slick leather and found a firmer hold in the roots of his hair, cool fingers pressing against his skull, and Aya again slammed his head back, although his own hand cushioned the blow. Aya's grip tightened, strands of hair straining against his scalp.
Yohji could easily twist free, but he didn't, avoiding the other man's eyes.
His head was slammed back a third time, and he was becoming aware he didn't actually like having his hair pulled out with an impending hangover. "Stop that," he whined.
"You didn't screw up tonight." Aya hissed. "You had nothing to punish yourself for."
Yohji's head snapped up, blearily meeting violet eyes. "Wasn't punishing myself," he slurred.
"The guilt wasn't yours to forget," Aya snapped again, not bothering to be quiet.
Yohji pawed at his own head, trying to free himself from Aya's hand. Finally his teammate released him, but it was more like tossing him away.
Aya turned to go, contempt written on his face. He didn't know what possessed him - probably the alcohol - but Yohji lunged forward, grabbing the redhead's shoulders and spinning him around. His lips found the other man's mouth before Aya could protest.
It was at least five seconds - a record, Yohji smugly noted - before Aya broke free, lips curled in disgust.
But the expression didn't reach his eyes. What Yohji saw there was worse.
Pity.
Or perhaps disappointment.
Aya turned to go, but he paused by the door. "Only again if you're sober, Yohji." He probably thought his voice was too soft for him to hear.
Aya left, footseps silent on the stairs.
Yohji slumped against the wall, and slid to the floor.
Maybe one day, he would be.
Author: Genuinelie(s)
Rating: PGish
Characters: Weiss Kreuz, Aya/Yohji
Shoutout to Fireun.
*****
"Why do you do this?" Aya demanded, a hand on the lapel of Yohji's coat swinging his drunk ass from doorframe to wall before he could step inside the Koneko.
His head slammed against the wall, and briefly the alcohol, more than the impact, made stars of light flash and fade behind his retinas.
The hand slid against the slick leather and found a firmer hold in the roots of his hair, cool fingers pressing against his skull, and Aya again slammed his head back, although his own hand cushioned the blow. Aya's grip tightened, strands of hair straining against his scalp.
Yohji could easily twist free, but he didn't, avoiding the other man's eyes.
His head was slammed back a third time, and he was becoming aware he didn't actually like having his hair pulled out with an impending hangover. "Stop that," he whined.
"You didn't screw up tonight." Aya hissed. "You had nothing to punish yourself for."
Yohji's head snapped up, blearily meeting violet eyes. "Wasn't punishing myself," he slurred.
"The guilt wasn't yours to forget," Aya snapped again, not bothering to be quiet.
Yohji pawed at his own head, trying to free himself from Aya's hand. Finally his teammate released him, but it was more like tossing him away.
Aya turned to go, contempt written on his face. He didn't know what possessed him - probably the alcohol - but Yohji lunged forward, grabbing the redhead's shoulders and spinning him around. His lips found the other man's mouth before Aya could protest.
It was at least five seconds - a record, Yohji smugly noted - before Aya broke free, lips curled in disgust.
But the expression didn't reach his eyes. What Yohji saw there was worse.
Pity.
Or perhaps disappointment.
Aya turned to go, but he paused by the door. "Only again if you're sober, Yohji." He probably thought his voice was too soft for him to hear.
Aya left, footseps silent on the stairs.
Yohji slumped against the wall, and slid to the floor.
Maybe one day, he would be.