You
By: Nikol
Disclaimer: I don't own Weiß. I just like making florists-assassins do my literary bidding. Please do not sue me...
Spoilers: If you don't know what happens to Asuka you may not want to read, but nothing else
Pairing: YojixKen and very belief mention of Yoji and Asuka
Rating: PG-13... talk of sex but no actually description of it
Author Notes: Yet another fic where a character reflects about their position in life.
*-*-*
This was not the way things were supposed to work out. Not that this isn't wonderful, it's just unexpected. With the way this little, whatever -this- is, has played out is surely not how you intended it to be. Because if it was I have been thrown for a giant loop, since I never thought it would be like this. Not necessarily me naked in bed with you, I mean me naked in bed with a guy. I'm not complaining though. This is... perfect.
Perfect. If I knew back then I'd be calling being here with you perfect I'd thought I was crazy. These was nothing prefect about you. You were a lazy, a drunk, a womanizer, permanently smelled of smoke; you were everything I never wanted. And apparently everything I've always needed. But I didn't know that then, all I knew was you had to be desperate if you were hitting on me.
I of course thought you were being an ass. Just a new way of picking on me. First you joked about me marrying my soccer ball and now you moved on to sending me mix signals to utterly confuse me. Going out every night and in the morning telling me how you only thought of me. I'd call you an idiot and inform you that your shift started about two hours ago. You could not have meant any of it; why think of me when you had you pick of women throughout Japan? I wasn't anything special.
You didn't see it that way though. Continuously you told me how you wished it were me you were with last night. I still wrote it off as you pulling my leg, seeing how much I could take before I broke down and really reacted. In my mind two people could play that game, you'd push and I take a page from Aya's book and glare at you in that "you need to find something better to do with your time" tone. Didn't help that you said I was cute when I glared; I am not cute. I'm just there.
And I know I should have said no that night. I never went out with you before, then again you never asked before. Why did I say yes? Maybe it was because the mission right before was almost my death. I had been careless and almost got myself killed. Drinking didn't seem like a bad idea. I'd go out with you, have one drink then sit there and wait till I'd have to drive you home drunk. I thought you'd treat me to that one drink (because you said you'd buy my first one since I'm still underage (1)) and you'd go seduce some half drunken university student. Why didn't you do that? Why did you sit on that bar stool all-night and only talked to me? Why didn't you play your roll as playboy?
Maybe you were playing the roll. But the playboy doesn't hit on former soccer players; former male soccer players who were straight, or at least thought they were straight. God, after one night you made me question my sexuality. That wasn't supposed to happen. But it was happening, and the more you kept telling those women to leave us alone, the more I noticed you wanted to sit there with me. After the first woman I thought you were being nice. After the fifth woman I wondered how much you had to drink. After you whispered you wanted to find a quieter place to talk I thought... I didn't think.
We ended up walking home, leaving your Seven back at the club. You said you've done that countless times before, were knew better than to drive after drinking, and that tomorrow we could pick it up. It wasn't until then, walking out of that bar, the feeling of finger tips lightly pressing against my lower back, that made me wonder if this was not some game to you. Were you really feeling something for me? Was it true that you thought about me when you were out alone? Was it true you thought I was cute when I glared? Were you really hitting on me?
I never asked those questions. I didn't want to but even if I did, you were taken in by your drunkenness and had started to speak a stream of consciousness. A free flowing thought of how Aya was an ass because the world was being an ass to him and how Omi had been fucked over by life. And me. How I wasn't meant to be here and he felt sorry for me. I was too good for this type of life. I didn't argue, I didn't mention how I was framed and almost killed by my "best-friend" before I became an assassin. You painted me to be something untouchable. You didn't see the blood on my hands and the bodies that lay behind me. What is it that makes me so pure in your eyes? I am the same as you, aren't I?
But you didn't stop there. The explanation turned from Weiß and our lives to you and your promiscuous ways. There was no reason, you said at first. The contradicted yourself by saying it was a search. A search for her and someone new. You didn't want another Asuka but you wanted her back. She was your life before this you needed a new one. I remained silent, this was your rant, your time to speak. My job was to support your staggering weight and listen to your words.
Stumbling into your bed you reached out for me arm, pleading with your glazed over eyes for me to stay. Honestly I did not want to, even though you looked like you should not have been alone in that moment. You were still the blond bombshell and I was just nearby. I was there and you were delirious and drink. You didn't want me; you wanted a warm body next to yours.
Things should have been back to normal the next day. You were to be two hours late for our morning shift. You were going to make me do all the work in the shop while you posed for the early morning costumers. Yes you opened with me, helped me water the flowers. You were there and working. And I smiled as Omi fell into the shop to cover the shift you always missed. His look of shock and confusion and your cocky look were priceless. How could make something priceless to me?
As days moved on you went out less and less. When you did venture out to a club or a bar, you made sure I was in toe. The outright flirting had stopped but you still found ways to lead me places by lightly touching my shoulder or to accidentally bump into me slowly sliding across me. You were on time for every shift we worked together. I even think you've watched my soccer lessons from the shadows to the trees that surround the field. However your cocky air remained make me question what you were up to. Why this change? What did you want?
Apparently you wanted me. You said so while dressing wounds on my back. The window shattering was no one's fault. The building shook from an explosion on the other side; we could not have stopped it. I did all I could, diving to get away. But I was still injured. You told Omi you could take care of me; she should sleep since he did have class tomorrow. So I sat shirtless on my bed, looking out the pitifully small window that was in prefect proportion to the four walls and a ceiling I called my room. You came in and started to say it was stupid and should never have happened. I had gotten this same speech from Aya on the ride back. I told you I didn't want to hear it from you. I told you to leave if you were going to tell me how I messed up... again. You stopped the tender care you were taking removing the shards of glass and sat next to me. The hurt look you game me told me I was wrong. Softly you explained how you were talking about yourself.
You were supposed to have my back on the mission. You should have been there to protect me. It was your fault you said. I was hurt because you were careless. That was not true. I was hurt because a window exploded. How come you didn't believe me? A smile came across my lips; please believe my smile, please believe my words I thought. It wasn't your fault.
Then came the confession that you never wanted to see me hurt. Seeing Aya and Omi injured didn't rip your heat apart like it did when I was in pain. I exclaimed thought yelling that I was not some doll, I couldn't be protected, and I shouldn't be protected. I said if you cared about me then you shouldn't think I couldn't take care of myself. There was no fighting back, no explanation of your stance. When I was done and out of breath all you said was you were worried about me.
I looked out my window for the rest of the night and had been put on leave due to my back. Everyone made sure I was in my bed, not aggravating my back anymore than I needed. I felt useless. Sure Omi brought my breakfasts but I had to wait till Aya came with lunch before the empty half eaten dished could be taken away. Neither one had time or wanted to talk to me. I couldn't do anything. Yet you didn't just bring my dinner, you brought yours too. Why did you take such care of me? Why did you take the time to eat with me? Did you really care that much about me? I still doubted your intentions. I had known you for years; I thought I knew how you worked. Never had to cared for a guy. Never had you shown extra kindness to a man. Yes every night, when you took the plates away there the softness of those lips on my forehead. Why did have to go and treat me so well?
Like all things I got better and put my life back on track. Flowers went on being sold, bag guys went on being killed and you went on treating me different from the others. Day in and night out we had this awkward dance of you being the playboy who had stop chasing women and me entranced by your treatment towards me. But until then it had been playful, non- committal, a joke. Why did you have to go and change that?
How you got Aya out of the house I will never know. And I understand why you now pressured Omi into going to that school dance. In the back of my mind a voice told me you moved on. That you have your fun with me and moved back to the world of women. Therefore I made plans to stay in my room and watch the soccer game I taped that afternoon. After my shower I made my way down to the kitchen in only a towel. I was after a quick instant dinner. What I got was a full candle lit dinner.
There you stood in a black suit with a blue shirt you swore matched my eyes. Wondering if I like tuna sushi you sauntered over to the refrigerator to retrieve the indigents. Of course I protested; you didn't need to do this if your date bailed out. That produced a laugh and the response that I was your dress. Suddenly I was very under dressed and insisted I put something on. I was dressed perfectly was what I was told. That made me nervous.
However you were a prefect gentleman. There were no pressures places upon me. You shed nothing, putting me first. Making sure I was okay with this, I was comfortable. The whole evening seemed surreal. This was not the actions of a lover boy. This was how someone acted when seducing a love (which is different than seducing an easy lay). Countless times I wondered why. Why were you doing this? Why go thought this for me? Why me?
Dinner ended and Omi returned home. Coming to the same conclusion as I did, he thought it was nice of me to comfort you. Did you have to laugh at him? Luckily Omi was tired and was only confused. You watched him ascend the stairs but leaning over the small table you set up in the middle of the kitchen. I think you realized you had taken my hand. And I think you realized I didn't pull away. To be honest if I wanted to, I couldn't. What id it about you that sends electricity though my entire body?
It was you that stated I had the early shift the next day and insisted I get some sleep. I didn't want you to clean up alone but you lead me up the stairs and own the hall, even opened the door to my room. And there it was. That awkward good night moment that defines the evening. I did know it, but I had always been the guy, the one hoping for that kiss. But playing this tool I wasn't sure what I wanted. Locking eyes with I saw your face draw closed. It wasn't until I felt your lips on mine did I realized what I wanted. I wanted taste you tasting me. I wanted to feel your body against mine, the feeling of your arms closing around me as you hold me. What did you do to make me fall for you?
We took it slow. Something I never though you capable of. Yet you wanted us to play in the shadows. This was for us only. No one could know. I just went along, I let you lead me. All I cared about was there was someone who wanted me. And though we moved slowly, it did not mean there wasn't any heat. As days moved on the more I felt I needed you. I wasn't just falling for you; I was falling in love with you. Did you know that?
With love and lust driving me, I proposed we go to the next level. The first few times you said no. I wasn't ready; I didn't know what I was saying. But I did. The more I touched you, the more I wanted to be covered in you. The need to wrap myself around your body over took my dreams. I felt like one of those teenage girls that flocked to the shop like it was a shire. Why didn't you take me then?
I started to give up on it. Maybe I was just someone to kill time with until Miss Right came along. What was I thinking? You wouldn't want all of me. God I love that I was wrong. I love how I came home from food shopping to find you wearing my old jersey and nothing else. I had look at that thing in years bit seeing you embodying what I love hit me. I wanted rush us, but you wanted it to be something to remember.
Being yelled at for not putting away the food was worth it. I'd give anything to feel that first touch again. To have your tongue explore my body as I held on to you, making sure that it was real. That you were real.
You took care of me that night. Going at my pace, one again placing me first. You taught me how to feel that night. You played my body like it was an instrument. You made me feel beautiful. The pain of the first time melted away as I screamed your name to the sky. And when were done you stayed there. Walking the next day in your arms, seeing your sleeping face was better than I could even imagine.
And it has been that way ever since. I still don't know how I let myself fall for you. Did you want this outcome? That every night we would be together, falling asleep in one another's arms? Hearing the words "I love you"? I wonder if you knew what you were getting into with me. I am not simple. Are you ready to be attached?
I climbed out of bed and talked towards a discarded robe thrown over a television. I'm not sure who's it is. The room is dark and I am tired. But natures calls and forced me from the warmth of your hold.
"Come back." You beckon sadly.
"Bathroom" I explain warping the robe around my naked body. I walk back towards the bed and play a kiss on your forehead. The same type of kiss you gave me when I had hurt my back.
"'Kay. Love you." You mumble into the pillow. There is something endearing about you when you're half awake, half asleep.
"I know. Love you too."
I pad my way down the hallway towards the bathroom, thinking. My life had not been perfect and my jobs are not the best. My past is gone and my future is not the brightest. But my present it perfect because when I go back to bed I have you.
~Fin~
[1] I have heard the legal drinking age in Japan is 20... Ken is still 19 so he couldn't order. Then again I could have this all wrong...
Disclaimer: I don't own Weiß. I just like making florists-assassins do my literary bidding. Please do not sue me...
Spoilers: If you don't know what happens to Asuka you may not want to read, but nothing else
Pairing: YojixKen and very belief mention of Yoji and Asuka
Rating: PG-13... talk of sex but no actually description of it
Author Notes: Yet another fic where a character reflects about their position in life.
*-*-*
This was not the way things were supposed to work out. Not that this isn't wonderful, it's just unexpected. With the way this little, whatever -this- is, has played out is surely not how you intended it to be. Because if it was I have been thrown for a giant loop, since I never thought it would be like this. Not necessarily me naked in bed with you, I mean me naked in bed with a guy. I'm not complaining though. This is... perfect.
Perfect. If I knew back then I'd be calling being here with you perfect I'd thought I was crazy. These was nothing prefect about you. You were a lazy, a drunk, a womanizer, permanently smelled of smoke; you were everything I never wanted. And apparently everything I've always needed. But I didn't know that then, all I knew was you had to be desperate if you were hitting on me.
I of course thought you were being an ass. Just a new way of picking on me. First you joked about me marrying my soccer ball and now you moved on to sending me mix signals to utterly confuse me. Going out every night and in the morning telling me how you only thought of me. I'd call you an idiot and inform you that your shift started about two hours ago. You could not have meant any of it; why think of me when you had you pick of women throughout Japan? I wasn't anything special.
You didn't see it that way though. Continuously you told me how you wished it were me you were with last night. I still wrote it off as you pulling my leg, seeing how much I could take before I broke down and really reacted. In my mind two people could play that game, you'd push and I take a page from Aya's book and glare at you in that "you need to find something better to do with your time" tone. Didn't help that you said I was cute when I glared; I am not cute. I'm just there.
And I know I should have said no that night. I never went out with you before, then again you never asked before. Why did I say yes? Maybe it was because the mission right before was almost my death. I had been careless and almost got myself killed. Drinking didn't seem like a bad idea. I'd go out with you, have one drink then sit there and wait till I'd have to drive you home drunk. I thought you'd treat me to that one drink (because you said you'd buy my first one since I'm still underage (1)) and you'd go seduce some half drunken university student. Why didn't you do that? Why did you sit on that bar stool all-night and only talked to me? Why didn't you play your roll as playboy?
Maybe you were playing the roll. But the playboy doesn't hit on former soccer players; former male soccer players who were straight, or at least thought they were straight. God, after one night you made me question my sexuality. That wasn't supposed to happen. But it was happening, and the more you kept telling those women to leave us alone, the more I noticed you wanted to sit there with me. After the first woman I thought you were being nice. After the fifth woman I wondered how much you had to drink. After you whispered you wanted to find a quieter place to talk I thought... I didn't think.
We ended up walking home, leaving your Seven back at the club. You said you've done that countless times before, were knew better than to drive after drinking, and that tomorrow we could pick it up. It wasn't until then, walking out of that bar, the feeling of finger tips lightly pressing against my lower back, that made me wonder if this was not some game to you. Were you really feeling something for me? Was it true that you thought about me when you were out alone? Was it true you thought I was cute when I glared? Were you really hitting on me?
I never asked those questions. I didn't want to but even if I did, you were taken in by your drunkenness and had started to speak a stream of consciousness. A free flowing thought of how Aya was an ass because the world was being an ass to him and how Omi had been fucked over by life. And me. How I wasn't meant to be here and he felt sorry for me. I was too good for this type of life. I didn't argue, I didn't mention how I was framed and almost killed by my "best-friend" before I became an assassin. You painted me to be something untouchable. You didn't see the blood on my hands and the bodies that lay behind me. What is it that makes me so pure in your eyes? I am the same as you, aren't I?
But you didn't stop there. The explanation turned from Weiß and our lives to you and your promiscuous ways. There was no reason, you said at first. The contradicted yourself by saying it was a search. A search for her and someone new. You didn't want another Asuka but you wanted her back. She was your life before this you needed a new one. I remained silent, this was your rant, your time to speak. My job was to support your staggering weight and listen to your words.
Stumbling into your bed you reached out for me arm, pleading with your glazed over eyes for me to stay. Honestly I did not want to, even though you looked like you should not have been alone in that moment. You were still the blond bombshell and I was just nearby. I was there and you were delirious and drink. You didn't want me; you wanted a warm body next to yours.
Things should have been back to normal the next day. You were to be two hours late for our morning shift. You were going to make me do all the work in the shop while you posed for the early morning costumers. Yes you opened with me, helped me water the flowers. You were there and working. And I smiled as Omi fell into the shop to cover the shift you always missed. His look of shock and confusion and your cocky look were priceless. How could make something priceless to me?
As days moved on you went out less and less. When you did venture out to a club or a bar, you made sure I was in toe. The outright flirting had stopped but you still found ways to lead me places by lightly touching my shoulder or to accidentally bump into me slowly sliding across me. You were on time for every shift we worked together. I even think you've watched my soccer lessons from the shadows to the trees that surround the field. However your cocky air remained make me question what you were up to. Why this change? What did you want?
Apparently you wanted me. You said so while dressing wounds on my back. The window shattering was no one's fault. The building shook from an explosion on the other side; we could not have stopped it. I did all I could, diving to get away. But I was still injured. You told Omi you could take care of me; she should sleep since he did have class tomorrow. So I sat shirtless on my bed, looking out the pitifully small window that was in prefect proportion to the four walls and a ceiling I called my room. You came in and started to say it was stupid and should never have happened. I had gotten this same speech from Aya on the ride back. I told you I didn't want to hear it from you. I told you to leave if you were going to tell me how I messed up... again. You stopped the tender care you were taking removing the shards of glass and sat next to me. The hurt look you game me told me I was wrong. Softly you explained how you were talking about yourself.
You were supposed to have my back on the mission. You should have been there to protect me. It was your fault you said. I was hurt because you were careless. That was not true. I was hurt because a window exploded. How come you didn't believe me? A smile came across my lips; please believe my smile, please believe my words I thought. It wasn't your fault.
Then came the confession that you never wanted to see me hurt. Seeing Aya and Omi injured didn't rip your heat apart like it did when I was in pain. I exclaimed thought yelling that I was not some doll, I couldn't be protected, and I shouldn't be protected. I said if you cared about me then you shouldn't think I couldn't take care of myself. There was no fighting back, no explanation of your stance. When I was done and out of breath all you said was you were worried about me.
I looked out my window for the rest of the night and had been put on leave due to my back. Everyone made sure I was in my bed, not aggravating my back anymore than I needed. I felt useless. Sure Omi brought my breakfasts but I had to wait till Aya came with lunch before the empty half eaten dished could be taken away. Neither one had time or wanted to talk to me. I couldn't do anything. Yet you didn't just bring my dinner, you brought yours too. Why did you take such care of me? Why did you take the time to eat with me? Did you really care that much about me? I still doubted your intentions. I had known you for years; I thought I knew how you worked. Never had to cared for a guy. Never had you shown extra kindness to a man. Yes every night, when you took the plates away there the softness of those lips on my forehead. Why did have to go and treat me so well?
Like all things I got better and put my life back on track. Flowers went on being sold, bag guys went on being killed and you went on treating me different from the others. Day in and night out we had this awkward dance of you being the playboy who had stop chasing women and me entranced by your treatment towards me. But until then it had been playful, non- committal, a joke. Why did you have to go and change that?
How you got Aya out of the house I will never know. And I understand why you now pressured Omi into going to that school dance. In the back of my mind a voice told me you moved on. That you have your fun with me and moved back to the world of women. Therefore I made plans to stay in my room and watch the soccer game I taped that afternoon. After my shower I made my way down to the kitchen in only a towel. I was after a quick instant dinner. What I got was a full candle lit dinner.
There you stood in a black suit with a blue shirt you swore matched my eyes. Wondering if I like tuna sushi you sauntered over to the refrigerator to retrieve the indigents. Of course I protested; you didn't need to do this if your date bailed out. That produced a laugh and the response that I was your dress. Suddenly I was very under dressed and insisted I put something on. I was dressed perfectly was what I was told. That made me nervous.
However you were a prefect gentleman. There were no pressures places upon me. You shed nothing, putting me first. Making sure I was okay with this, I was comfortable. The whole evening seemed surreal. This was not the actions of a lover boy. This was how someone acted when seducing a love (which is different than seducing an easy lay). Countless times I wondered why. Why were you doing this? Why go thought this for me? Why me?
Dinner ended and Omi returned home. Coming to the same conclusion as I did, he thought it was nice of me to comfort you. Did you have to laugh at him? Luckily Omi was tired and was only confused. You watched him ascend the stairs but leaning over the small table you set up in the middle of the kitchen. I think you realized you had taken my hand. And I think you realized I didn't pull away. To be honest if I wanted to, I couldn't. What id it about you that sends electricity though my entire body?
It was you that stated I had the early shift the next day and insisted I get some sleep. I didn't want you to clean up alone but you lead me up the stairs and own the hall, even opened the door to my room. And there it was. That awkward good night moment that defines the evening. I did know it, but I had always been the guy, the one hoping for that kiss. But playing this tool I wasn't sure what I wanted. Locking eyes with I saw your face draw closed. It wasn't until I felt your lips on mine did I realized what I wanted. I wanted taste you tasting me. I wanted to feel your body against mine, the feeling of your arms closing around me as you hold me. What did you do to make me fall for you?
We took it slow. Something I never though you capable of. Yet you wanted us to play in the shadows. This was for us only. No one could know. I just went along, I let you lead me. All I cared about was there was someone who wanted me. And though we moved slowly, it did not mean there wasn't any heat. As days moved on the more I felt I needed you. I wasn't just falling for you; I was falling in love with you. Did you know that?
With love and lust driving me, I proposed we go to the next level. The first few times you said no. I wasn't ready; I didn't know what I was saying. But I did. The more I touched you, the more I wanted to be covered in you. The need to wrap myself around your body over took my dreams. I felt like one of those teenage girls that flocked to the shop like it was a shire. Why didn't you take me then?
I started to give up on it. Maybe I was just someone to kill time with until Miss Right came along. What was I thinking? You wouldn't want all of me. God I love that I was wrong. I love how I came home from food shopping to find you wearing my old jersey and nothing else. I had look at that thing in years bit seeing you embodying what I love hit me. I wanted rush us, but you wanted it to be something to remember.
Being yelled at for not putting away the food was worth it. I'd give anything to feel that first touch again. To have your tongue explore my body as I held on to you, making sure that it was real. That you were real.
You took care of me that night. Going at my pace, one again placing me first. You taught me how to feel that night. You played my body like it was an instrument. You made me feel beautiful. The pain of the first time melted away as I screamed your name to the sky. And when were done you stayed there. Walking the next day in your arms, seeing your sleeping face was better than I could even imagine.
And it has been that way ever since. I still don't know how I let myself fall for you. Did you want this outcome? That every night we would be together, falling asleep in one another's arms? Hearing the words "I love you"? I wonder if you knew what you were getting into with me. I am not simple. Are you ready to be attached?
I climbed out of bed and talked towards a discarded robe thrown over a television. I'm not sure who's it is. The room is dark and I am tired. But natures calls and forced me from the warmth of your hold.
"Come back." You beckon sadly.
"Bathroom" I explain warping the robe around my naked body. I walk back towards the bed and play a kiss on your forehead. The same type of kiss you gave me when I had hurt my back.
"'Kay. Love you." You mumble into the pillow. There is something endearing about you when you're half awake, half asleep.
"I know. Love you too."
I pad my way down the hallway towards the bathroom, thinking. My life had not been perfect and my jobs are not the best. My past is gone and my future is not the brightest. But my present it perfect because when I go back to bed I have you.
~Fin~
[1] I have heard the legal drinking age in Japan is 20... Ken is still 19 so he couldn't order. Then again I could have this all wrong...