This is a fluffy, feel-good sort of thing in which I explore the dubious erotic potential of limited sexual dysfunction. Good times! Really!
Rating: X, NC17, M, what have you
Word count: 3,500
BTW: Weiss Kreuz is owned by Project Weiss.
Summary: Humor. Porn. Vulnerability, Aya style. (Y/A)
Aya stared at the fluffy clouds. The take-off had been bumpy and they'd climbed fast through a solid cloud cover and notable turbulence. He was just looking out the window, dimly registering the shape and texture of the thick mist swirling around the plane, and thinking, as he usually did at times like this, that most planes crashed right after takeoff or when they were trying to land. He snorted and stared down in the direction of his magazine instead. Like he'd ever get that lucky.
He and Yoji were on their way to Sapporo, where some irksome dark beast had bolted after Weiss had fucked up their most recent mission. They were going to track him down and kill him in his lair. Aya was pissed off that the lair was so inconveniently located, but what could you do? At least he was going with Yoji; the last time he'd traveled with Omi, he'd had a constant headache from grinding his teeth.
"Does it work the other way too? I've always wanted to ask." Yoji was leaning toward Aya, speaking softly into his ear. His tone was about halfway between friendly heart-to-heart and overt seduction -- the usual. Aya forced himself to shift gears and consider what the hell he might be talking about.
"Does what work the other way?"
Yoji gestured toward the magazine in Aya's lap. Which was open to a surprisingly explicit underwear ad. Aya looked at it, not having actually registered what he'd been seeing, and wondered what the model had stuffed down those tight, white briefs. Probably PhotoShopped, he decided. Still didn't have a clue about Yoji's question, though.
"Nope, still don't know what you're talking about."
"Well, you've been staring at that ad for about five minutes. It indicates a certain level of interest."
"I'd give him a shot," Aya finally said, shrugging. "If nothing else, just to see if that's a ham sandwich and chips he's got down there or what."
"So, I was just wondering if that's your thing."
Aya looked at him, mildly perplexed. "You knew that already."
"I know you have certain inclinations, yeah. I'm wondering if it's, you know, a hobby or an avocation. If you have other inclinations as well, I mean."
Aya opened his mouth to deflect the comment with a casual brush-off -- Yoji wouldn't pursue it. He asked personal questions now and again, but he respected Aya's habit of dodging most of them. But Aya realized he didn't actually mind answering.
"I don't know."
Yoji looked confounded. He shifted closer, shoulder leaning solidly into Aya's. Close. "How can you not know?" he asked. "I mean, I get undecided. But ignorant? How does that work?"
Aya sighed. He leaned back against the seat, trying to organize his thoughts. Yoji had learned long ago that it wasn't easy for Aya to figure out how he felt about things, much less vocalize his findings. Yoji always gave him enough space -- emotionally, if not physically. Aya started to shrug the other man off, but it was a knee-jerk reaction, and instead he leaned closer, head resting against the clean-smelling blond hair. He closed his eyes -- that usually made it easier. "I mean... I don't think about it." Cutting off Yoji's next comment, Aya added, "Really. It's just... I'm not very interested."
He could hear the gears cranking in Yoji's head. He knew it wouldn't compute, even though God knew it was something Yoji should have figured out by now. Of course, the concept was so utterly alien to Yoji, it made sense that he'd have missed it.
"Not interested? In sex?" Yoji's voice was just a step above a whisper, his mouth so close Aya felt his breath against his ear.
"Not very interested," Aya corrected. He leaned even closer, the angle and proximity guaranteeing nobody would overhear. Not that it really mattered -- it wasn't like anybody cared about Aya's sex life anyway. He smiled slightly. "In case you hadn't noticed, Yoji, I'm a little tense."
Yoji snorted. "Just a bit. But still. It's so -- basic."
"Not for everybody."
"But -- you were staring at the well-packed underwear model."
"I wasn't paying any attention. I was busy thinking dark thoughts. I didn't even notice it until you said something."
Yoji continued his obvious struggle to process what Aya had said. "OK. So, to the extent that you're into anybody, you're into both? No preference?"
Aya shook his head. The motion brought his lips into contact with Yoji's ear, and he stayed where he was, pulling back just the barest bit. "I guess I've thought more about guys, since I, um, changed professions. It's more of an academic question, though."
"Not a practical matter, I mean. I haven't... It's been a long time."
"Well, what do you fantasize about? When you..." He trailed off, making a graphic gesture with his hand.
Aya rolled his eyes. "I don't."
"You don't fantasize?" Yoji sounded fascinated. And a little horrified.
"I don't..." Aya made an abbreviated version of the gesture Yoji had made.
"You don't -- at all? No way. You're yanking my chain."
"I just told you, I'm not yanking anything."
Yoji burst into laughter, face buried in Aya's neck. Aya smiled. "You're drooling on me."
"Sorry," Yoji said, wiping Aya's neck with the back of his hand. "I just... You don't actually mean never, right?"
"It's like you've suddenly realized we haven't been speaking the same language all this time, isn't it?"
"Not quite never. But close."
"How is that even possible?"
"I'm not a very sexual person, I guess. And I'm... preoccupied. You know?"
"I was reading an article about the German concentration camps in WWII. How the men there gave up masturbating toward the end. When they gave up on life."
Aya rolled his eyes. "Drama queen. I'm not... I mean, yes, obviously I'm depressed. I'm sure that has something to do with it. And I guess I can see how this would be just about impossible for you to understand, but it's not something I worry about." He allowed himself a little smirk. "Besides, I'm sure you jerk off enough for both of us."
Now it was Yoji's turn to roll his eyes. "I like to come. The more often I come, the better. It's pretty simple, really."
Aya felt Yoji's eyelashes flutter against his throat as Yoji glanced down at his crotch. "Jesus, Yoji, personal boundaries, OK?"
Yoji shifted to whisper in his ear, suddenly urgent. "You like it when I touch you, though. I know you do."
"I wouldn't let you if I didn't."
"But -- I mean, it's sexual. Right? It is for me. I mean, it's not sex, but it's -- sexy. Do you really not feel that?" Yoji sounded bereft. "This stuff." He leaned in even closer and stroked Aya's hair. "This is just pals for you?"
Aya closed his eyes and tried to really think about it, to actually pay attention to what his body was telling him.
"No. Not pals. I'm pals with Ken, and no way he's going to be halfway in my lap and drooling on my neck. I don't know." He shrugged helplessly. "Can't there be a difference?"
"Between intimacy and sex? Sure. But I always thought..." Yoji sighed. "I get kind of wrapped up in you. This kind of stuff?" He traced the outside of Aya's ear with his middle finger. "Gets me a little bit hard. I just figured it was the same for you."
Aya hesitated but ultimately figured what the hell. "Nothing gets me hard."
Yoji froze, then gathered himself, no doubt trying not to sound completely mortified. "Have you... um... been to a doctor?"
Sweet, stupid Yoji, trying to be sensitive. Aya had to smile. "No. I don't think it's anything physical." He realized, distantly, that he really ought to be more concerned, but he just... If he worried about everything that ought to freak him out, he wouldn't be able to function at all. "And if you suggest a psychiatrist, I'm going to make you sit in your own seat."
"Well, yeah, but... You can't..." Yoji sank firmly back into his own seat anyway, limiting physical contact to the length of their thighs. "Jesus," Yoji breathed on a harsh outtake of air. He was pointedly not looking at Aya. The fact that he was obviously trying to moderate his reaction wasn't especially reassuring.
Feeling an initial burst of petulance, Aya asked, "What the hell difference does it make? Why would you care? You cope your way, and I cope my way."
Yoji drew in a slow, deep breath. "You know me, Aya. My best friend is my dick. I'm just, you know, having a rough time getting, um, acclimated to your scenario. As Manx might say."
Aya frowned at the idea of Manx discussing his scenario. "Fuck you," he said, leaning away from Yoji and staring pointedly out the window. He should have known better than to discuss it; he just found it difficult to anticipate what would freak people out and what wouldn't. Because as far as Aya was concerned, once the words "paid killer" were applied, the details didn't much matter.
Aya didn't realize that he was counting on Yoji to apologize and try to make him feel better until it didn't happen. Instead, Yoji immersed himself in the murder mystery he'd bought at the airport and didn't look up for the rest of the flight.
"Jesus Christ, Aya, are you still mad at me? I was just surprised, OK? It's not like I--"
," Aya hissed.
Yoji huffed in exasperation. "He isn't here yet, Aya. That's why we're sitting in the dark and waiting. If he were here, we'd be killing him."
"If you don't shut the fuck up, I'm
going to kill you
"Then you'd have to dispose of all the bodies by yourself."
"And by the way, I can't see your death glare in the dark, so you may as well save it for another time."
"Shut up! Someone's coming." Seconds later, he whispered, "Still can't see it."
"Well, that was more appalling than usual." Yoji waited for Aya's response. When the "we're all in this together" grunt didn't materialize, he added, "Come on, Aya. Talk to me. I'm sorry I hurt your feelings earlier. You know I didn't mean to."
Aya flicked a brief, opaque look in his direction. That thing about hurting his feelings was fucking annoying, but the truth was that he didn't actually want to stay mad at Yoji. He didn't actually feel angry. But hurt -- well, if he had to admit it, yes. Which pissed him off. He was familiar with this particular vicious circle.
But trying to keep your distance from Yoji when he didn't want you to was a loser's game. "I'm not mad at you. Just shut up and leave me alone, OK?"
"No. You are definitely mad at me. You decapitated that bastard on purpose so his head would hit me in the chest and roll down my stomach, which was fucking gross and disgusting, and kind of painful. That implies a certain amount of anger. Not as much as it would if you were a normal person, obviously, but still."
"Oh, come on, Yoji. Do you honestly think I could do that on purpose?"
"You could, and you did. I forgive you, though."
Aya rolled his eyes. He had done it on purpose, although he hadn't been sure if it would work. He'd been pretty pleased with himself when it had.
"Seriously, Aya. I'm going to bed. Come to bed with me, and we'll talk for a few minutes, and we'll feel better, and then we'll go to sleep. OK?" Yoji pulled off his t-shirt and slipped under the covers. He was wearing a pair of pajama bottoms, Aya noticed. He usually just wore briefs. Yoji wasn't feeling entirely comfortable, then -- good. Asshole.
Aya nodded -- minutely, careful to betray no hint of enthusiasm -- and came to bed. Because even if he did feel more prickly now than he had before his conversation with Yoji this morning, he needed some comfort from somewhere. And while he was being honest with himself, he had to admit that he'd always realized Yoji got some kind of sexual gratification from this weird, half-lit relationship. And Aya did, too. As much as he could allow himself. So, it wasn't entirely fair of him to be upset if Yoji felt betrayed when he'd told him he didn't feel it the same way.
At the same time, he couldn't go any further than he had. He couldn't let Yoji know how little he allowed himself, or how important Yoji really was to him. He trusted Yoji, as much as he could trust anyone.
Aya was freezing from the overly aggressive hotel air conditioning, and he was sorely tempted to huddle up to Yoji for warmth. He was already nearly touching him before he remembered to stop. Damn, but these sheets were well-chilled.
Snorting in mild annoyance, Yoji grabbed Aya's shoulder and pulled him over into a rough hug. "I really am sorry, Aya, " he mumbled.
Aya nodded. He didn't know what to say, and he probably wouldn't have been able to say it if he did. "It's fine. Stop apologizing." He heard Yoji draw in a breath to speak. "No, I mean it. We're OK. Leave it alone."
Yoji sighed quietly. "All right." He rested his head against Aya's.
When ten minutes passed and Yoji hadn't said anything else, Aya felt himself relax and start to fall asleep. Yoji's breath was even and calm; his hand had slipped from it's provisional resting spot high on Aya's waist down over his stomach. Aya shifted and the movement woke Yoji up enough to stroke his fingers lightly over Aya's skin.
"Christ, you have abs of steel, Aya," Yoji muttered, feeling the ridges and dips more deliberately. "Are you working out more?"
"I guess. You know, we're all working more lately."
"Well, it's not making me all ripped. Well, any more ripped."
"Use a sword."
Aya felt Yoji's chuckle against his back. "I've played with your sword before. That thing is fucking dangerous."
Yoji's fingers will still exploring Aya's stomach. Aya was careful, as always, to keep his breath under control.
"I wish I had your muscles."
"You're too lazy."
"Ouch. That's where you were supposed to tell me I have the body of a god and I don't need to worry about things like that."
"Mmmm." Which was sort of an apology. Yoji knew.
Yoji's hand and mouth both stopped moving, and after another sleepy interval, Aya started drifting off again. He was feeling better about -- just better.
"Aya?" Yoji's breath puffed against Aya's ear as his hand settled on the hard, flat space just below his navel. Aya let his head fall back more firmly against Yoji's shoulder.
"Could I... touch you?"
It took Aya some time to figure out what Yoji meant. It woke him up somewhat. And once again, he had no idea what to say. Why? And why now? Yoji was waiting for an answer, his breath ghosting patiently over Aya's neck. Eventually, Yoji's fingers moved ever-so slightly, stroking just a bit lower. Aya's heart was pounding.
"That's not no. Right?"
Aya nodded minutely, almost more intention than movement. The hand slid slowly, rubbing over him through his underwear. Nothing was stirring, but it still felt -- well, pretty amazing. He was used to Yoji's touch, so this additional step didn't spook him as much as he would have expected it to. If he'd ever thought about it, which he hadn't. Well, not on purpose. Not with any intent. Anyway, he didn't need to worry about the performance aspect -- it wasn't like Yoji didn't know what to expect.
Yoji slipped his hand inside Aya's briefs and cupped him, squeezing gently. It got him the slightest bit hard -- wouldn't last long, but whatever Yoji thought he was doing, God, it was nice. Yoji rolled Aya's balls between his thumb and index finger, then slid his hand farther back, rubbing the skin between Aya's legs. Occasionally he'd hit a spot that felt especially satisfying, and Aya couldn't help grunting appreciatively. Finally, Yoji started playing with his dick, making him swell slowly, making him sink into the feeling. Yoji's other hand was stroking high on the inside of Aya's thigh -- Aya hadn't realized he'd spread his legs. That was vaguely embarrassing, but he pushed it aside.
"It's OK if you don't come," Yoji whispered, his voice deep and husky.
Aya closed his eyes. Christ, Yoji could make anything sexy.
Yoji adjusted their positions, and now Aya could feel Yoji's erection against the back of his thigh. It made it hard to breathe. "Yoji." He'd wanted to say something, but the name was all he could manage. His voice sounded so strange to him, lower than usual. Not strained.
Yoji ground against him, interrupting his stroking and sending a light shudder through Aya's body. "I knew you were lying."
Aya tried to process the statement but found the ability was off-line. "Not about... Oh."
Yoji had palmed Aya's dick and was squeezing rhythmically in a way that was really working wonders. "About this?" Yoji laughed a little, sounding breathless and excited. "Well, no." Aya clearly heard the unspoken addendum that no man would lie about something like that -- but if anyone would, it would be Aya. "But it feels good, doesn't it?"
Aya moaned. He didn't think he'd ever done that before.
," Yoji muttered. "Me too." He had Aya mostly over on his back and was draped over him, humping Aya's hip bone urgently. "I could..." Yoji's voice cracked. He cleared his throat and said, hesitantly, "Can I try?" He was looking into Aya's eyes now, trying hard to make himself understood. "I won't get weird about it if it doesn't work. But, um -- can I use my mouth?"
Aya just stared, breathing loudly. Yoji had managed to shut down Aya's remaining thought process with five words.
Yoji was on his knees in a flash, leaning over Aya's hips, sucking his mostly limp dick into his mouth with a wet, slurping noise. He sucked gently, mouth unbelievably soft, and used his tongue in ways Aya couldn't even fully interpret. Nothing had ever felt that good. Aya let his eyes drift closed and just went with his body's urge to throw his head against the pillow and arch his back. He almost felt guilty. He knew it wouldn't work, but Yoji seemed to be enjoying himself, so he left him to it.
It seemed to last forever, Yoji's insistent mouth making him harder and harder, and Aya relaxing into it until he was unaware of anything else, nothing but Yoji's mouth and tongue and Yoji's hands on his hips, and he was hard
. He was so hard...
His orgasm took him completely by surprise. He just lay there for a minute, feeling the humming in his balls and the deep relaxation creeping slowly through his body. The sheets beneath him were damp with sweat, and Yoji's head resting on his stomach was heavy and warm. Aya would have to respond to this unexpected situation soon, but he gave himself a while to bask in the -- what, afterglow? He laughed to himself, but Yoji joined in, his delight palpable. Yoji scampered up and lay beside Aya, holding him. When Aya finally opened his eyes, he was faced with a dazzling Yoji-grin, and he couldn't help smiling himself.
"You look pleased with yourself."
"You look pleased with me, too."
"Yeah. Well." Aya noticed the weight of Yoji's erection against his thigh and realized he needed to reciprocate, although he wasn't sure what Yoji would want or expect. "You've probably waited long enough, huh?" Aya asked, shifting slightly to apply some pressure. "What should I do?"
Yoji moved back onto his knees and took his dick into his hand, dragging his long, thin fingers up and down the length. "I'll get it." He looked down at Aya's stomach, then back at his face. "Could I come on you?"
Aya nodded, fascinated, and Yoji straddled his thighs. He jerked himself off quickly, not really playing it up for the audience -- not that he needed to. Aya's gaze kept flicking from Yoji's face to his crotch. Yoji came with a cut-off cry, watching avidly as his semen striped Aya's abdomen. Finally closing his eyes, Yoji flopped down and snuggled up to Aya, wiping at the mess with the sheet.
Eventually, Aya cleared his throat. "I didn't know you had an ab fetish."
"I didn't know you had such amazing abs."
"The miracles of full disclosure, huh," Aya muttered.
"Sleep first," Yoji murmured, smiling again. "Full disclosure in the morning."