Author: Celeste
Feedback: [email protected] (flames welcome because they're funny)
Rating: R for slightly explicit yaoi themes
Pairing: Aya/Ken
Disclaimer: If I owned Aya and Ken I wouldn't have bastardized them like Gluhen did, dammit!!! And they'd make out a lot more on camera (since we all know they do it off screen anyway). So obviously, none of the characters are mine. *sob*
Summary: Ken decides that he and Aya need to have an important talk.
Dedication: To the Mel, Prism and Anrui. Ukes don't always have to be uke, dammit!!! *pout pout*
A/N: Yeah, so I kind of got inspired when all of my friends were telling me I was the uke type. *hugs Ken* Well, at least we're in the same boat… and at least I can write Ken out of it, sort of! *petulant determination* Anyway, this is supposed to be funny, but then again my sense of humor doesn't seem to click with everyone else's, so maybe it's just strange and random. Humor is my greatest weak point when I write!! That and romance. Um, and the usual apologies for any raging suckiness that happens to occur (force of habit, I tell you!), and also apologies in advance for OOCness and lack of plot or substance. My best excuse is that this is my first Weiss fic and not very well planned out since it hit me on the spur of the moment. Pity me! Oh, and it has also been brought to my attention that I used the Japanese wrong. Aheh. I don't really know a word of Japanese let alone the proper context to use it, so apologies for butchering the language, but I did only use it as I suited my purposes and with no maliciousness on my part. :P
Distribution: Just ask for it.
~~~~~~~~
He was bleeding copiously, several long slash marks running ghastly vermillion criss-cross patterns up and down the lengths of his arms and upper chest, each of which were deep enough to render him immobile though not severe enough that he was going to die from them any time soon.
He could hear his lifeblood drip, drip, dripping out of him and onto the hardwood of the desk beneath him. In the haze of his slow, agonizing death, he thought to himself that for someone as powerful as Keisuke Ueda-sama, this was a damned undignified way to die.
Still bewildered from the sudden attack and in pain, he made several gurgling noises in the back of his throat as his aggressors stood by, one—a redhead-- ignoring the victim's pathetic whimpers while riffling calmly through his file cabinet as another--his partner from the sound of things-- stood angrily by, shouting in a whisper, one indignity or another.
"Dammit, Ran! Why don't you ever let me?!" the shorter one hissed, blowing his bangs out of his eyes when they obscured the heinous glare he was attempting to convey to the redhead. In the dark.
Aya sighed, a long suffering sound. The victim on the desk took this to mean that it was not the first time he'd heard the other man's whining on this particular subject.
"Siberian, we're kind of busy at the moment, if you hadn't noticed," he started, motioning absently to Ueda's twitching body laid out on the desk behind them as a reminder to his teammate.
"Oh sure! Like you haven't used that excuse a hundred times before. I'm talking here, dammit. And you're acting like nothing I say is important at all." Ken shot back petulantly, ignoring said body and again attempting to huff his hair out of his face so he could look properly intimidating as he spoke his piece.
Obviously Ken didn't realize that no matter how hard he blew at his hair, it was going to keep falling back down until he decided to uncross his arms and run it back with his hands.
Ueda gurgled some more in the background, perhaps a bit perturbed at being completely ignored.
Aya, obviously hearing words dangerous to any relationship in Ken's diatribe, attempted to hide most of his annoyance and abandoned his search of the file cabinets for the time being. Nothing was going to get done at this pace, and if it kept up, he'd probably get kicked out of their bedroom for a week or two. Again. Sighing, the older assassin adopted a rational, consoling tone. "Ken, what you say is always important to me. But now isn't…"
Ken's eyes got large and watery. "If I am important to you, then why do you keep making excuses?!" he asked around a quivering lip.
Aya was torn between averting his eyes (which would send Ken into high choler once more) and capitulating (which would mean they weren't going to finish the mission until something was worked out and finalized). Out of the corner of his eye, he chanced a look at his lover's pouting countenance again, and consequently, effectively sealed his fate. He sighed softly, this time in resignation. "All right. Talk."
Ken blinked, looking dumbly at Aya for a moment, unable to quite believe that his boyfriend had yielded so quickly and without some sort of searing comment or deadly glare to accompany it.
"Ken…" Aya's tone was impatient.
Remembering himself, Ken shook his head to clear it before looking the redhead straight in the eye. "I want to be seme, dammit."
Mild irritation flickered across Aya's amethyst eyes, but he managed to keep from making it too obvious. Of course, the dark helped. "Ken…"
"Why do you always get to be seme, anyway?" Ken continued, ignoring the taller assassin's interruption. "I did some research you know. From what I saw, the prettier ones are usually uke."
Aya's nose twitched marginally at Ken's announcement, but he did manage to keep from appearing completely perplexed, somehow. You could research something like that? And what did Ken mean by pretty? Like a girl pretty?
"That's right," Ken continued, reading Aya's look perfectly. "They have websites about this, you know. I actually did real research."
"Ken, that's ridiculous…"
"What?! I can do research! I'm not as stupid as you think I am!"
"No, not that…"
"Then what?" Ken's tone told the taller assassin that he was treading on dangerous territory. Aya's eyes involuntarily slid over to Ken's bloody glove, still stained and dripping from ripping through the body of Ueda, the target laid out like so much lunchmeat behind them. Come to think of it, Ken had attacked the man with more malice than usual, tonight. Siberian usually aimed the blades of his claw to kill instantly, but judging from the occasional wet, strangled noises that punctuated the dark of the office, the former child pornography dealer was in for a long, painful, and unnecessarily messy death. Not that the man didn't deserve it, he did, but Ran was pretty sure he himself didn't.
"Nothing," Aya wisely responded after thinking it through thoroughly.
Satisfied, Ken continued his argument. "EVERYTHING I read says I'd be a good seme."
"Like what, exactly?"
"Well, I'm an athlete for one! I've got stamina! And good control."
Aya scowled, wounded. "What exactly are you suggesting, Ken?"
Ken blinked at the other man's tone.
And then blushed deep red.
"No! That's not what I meant! I mean…not that you don't…because you do, really, you really, really do, I'm just…it's just part of…well, you know…"
A blushing, stammering Ken always seemed to do miracles for Aya's temperament. Well, the cuteness distracted him anyway. He decided to let Ken's comments slip, this time. "Never mind. Just say what you were going to say," he urged impatiently.
"Uh…right." Ken blinked cutely a few times as he ran his thoughts in attempt to regain his place he had reached in his argument. "….Uh….oh yeah! And I'm the brash, spontaneous one! Like the kind that will sneak up on your type at random times and toss him over the nearest horizontal surface to have my wicked way with…"
Aya's eyebrows darted up. "My type?"
Ken scowled. "Stop picking at details."
"I'm particularly interested in these details. What do you mean 'my type,' huh?"
Ken stammered and turned pink around the ears again. "Y-you know! The pretty, quiet ones. The ones that write poetry and read angsty dramas and foreign books and go to art museums and use fabric softener. "
Aya, slightly bemused at Ken's fidgeting, bent down to look the shorter assassin in the eye, leaning forward a bit as he did. "What does that have to do with anything?" he asked, voice lowered marginally so the bass hummed pleasantly in the soccer player's ears, causing his breath to quicken a little.
"W-well… they're just uke things to do!" Ken responded brashly, unnerved by the redhead's proximity. He took a step backwards to regain his composure.
"I see," Aya murmured, reaching up to brush the brunette's bangs from his face. "So, reading, writing, and laundry are 'uke' things to do?" He let his fingers linger, feather light, on the soccer player's cheek.
Ken only managed a stubborn nod.
"But blushing and stammering aren't?" Aya continued, voice teasing.
Ken however, didn't take his flirtatious comments as they were meant, and immediately flew back into his highly perturbed state. "Dammit Ran, stop messing with me! I thought you said you were going to listen?" He complained, indelicately swatting his lover's fingers from his face.
Aya blinked. Usually the seductive voice had the power to magically distract Ken from whatever he was doing at the time…
The older man studied his pouting lover silently for a bit. Ken stared back, deliciously riled and petulant, body humming with some sort of mixed excitement and frustration.
Somewhere behind them, there was a squeak and a thud as the target slid on the puddle of blood and fell off the desk.
Neither Ken nor Aya stirred, still looking intently at each other.
After a moment, Aya gave in and folded his arms in front of him. "Okay, I'm listening."
Ken looked surprised that the redhead had given in for the second time tonight. He hadn't been expecting it.
Really.
"Um…well, that was pretty much my argument," Ken admitted sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his head with the palm of his non-bloody glove.
Aya snorted. "So can we get back to the mission?" he gestured with his eyes towards the half-rifled through file cabinet. "We still have to find this guy's list of associates."
"That's it?!" Ken shot back, incredulous that all his hard extra-curricular research had earned such a paltry response.
Aya blinked. He'd listened…what else did Ken want? They were still in the middle of a fucking mission for God's sake!
As if to remind them, the redhead felt a weak tug on his right pant leg and looked down disdainfully to see Ueda, who had managed to crawl from the desk towards him in a last, desperate plea for attention. The man was now clutching the redhead's clothing with blood and slimy chunks of flesh all over his hands, looking up at his attacker with eyes that plead for a merciful, quick death by the katana sheathed at the assassin's side.
Scowling, Aya kicked at the target in annoyance with his foot until the pervert was forced to let him go. "Ken, I listened like I said I would. But can we wait to talk about this until we get home?" he asked, sounding tired and irritable as he examined the stains on his pants with open disgust.
"But…"
Aya would have completely lost patience with the younger assassin at that point and probably would have snapped something at Ken that would have won him a sleeping place on the couch for the next two weeks, but luckily enough for them both, the static of their earpieces simultaneously alerted them to an incoming message from their other teammates.
"Geez you two, what's taking so long?" Yohji groused at them, obviously around a cigarette.
Aya shot a pointed look at Ken. "Nothing, Balinese. Report on your status."
The sound of Yohji lazily taking a breath and blowing smoke out came to their ears before a direct answer. "Took out the guards on the first two floors as ordered, Abyssinian. Explosives have also been set at the pre-assigned positions. This building is ready to blow whenever you two lovebirds decide to kiss and makeup."
Aya scowled, realizing that both he and Ken had forgotten to switch off their links with the others and that Yohji must have been listening. "Head to the rendezvous point," Abyssinian ordered, tone glacial. They should be concentrating on the mission anyway. "Bombay, what's your situation?"
"Uploading program into the system now 92% complete, Aya-kun," Omi replied cheerfully, the click-clack of his keyboard humming in the background. "Once it's completely in, it should go into all the computers in the building and completely wipe their data… even if we destroy the building right after, the program should automatically E-mail itself to any of the target's customers and delete any similar files from their hard disks that it found on the mainframe."
"Good work, Omi."
"Ne, Aya-kun, Ken-kun… what's the condition of the target?"
Both assassins glanced at the body at Aya's feet. "Incapacitated and… twitching."
"Ah…okay, Aya-kun. Ne, have you two found the files yet?"
"…not yet."
"Eh? Really?"
Yohji's communicator crackled back onto the line. "Weren't you listening just now, Ommitchi? The world stops revolving when these two have a lover's spat," Kudou mocked over the safe distance of their com links.
Aya's scowl darkened and Ken flushed a brilliant shade of red-pink.
Omi however, missed Yohji's amused tone. "Is something the matter, Ken-kun? Aya-kun?" the boy asked, genuinely concerned.
Aya had been ready to reply in the negative, to assure the youngest team member that everything was fine.
But Yohji's obnoxious guffaw drowned out his quiet response. "Aya won't let Ken be seme!!" the oldest assassin crowed loudly.
"Eh?" Omi sounded confused. And then… "Yohji-kun!!!!" he gasped into the communicator. "That's none of our business!"
They could all practically hear his blush over the line.
"Well if it wasn't, they'd have turned off their coms and kept it to themselves… but obviously, this was a cry for help, chibi!" Yohji declared haughtily. "And who better to help than the love doctor himself, Yohji Kudou, ne?"
Aya growled menacingly.
Ken continued to blush.
By Aya's foot, a body twitched and spasmed randomly.
"Personally, I think Ken would be a good seme," Yohji speculated, unabashedly pushing forward.
Ken, still flushed brilliant pink, managed to look up at the redhead on that comment, his expression reading, "See? I told you."
Aya scowled some more.
"What do you think, chibi?"
"Well, if we're on the subject…" On the other end, Omi sounded thoughtful and not nearly as scandalized as he'd proposed to have been a second ago when Yohji had alerted him to the situation. "…I think I agree with Ken-kun and Yohji-kun on this one, Aya-kun. You should let Ken-kun, if he really wants to! If you're really in a stable, long term relationship being on equal footing is very important! That's what all the books say," the teen stated assertively. Though not without enough sweetness in his voice that Aya was forced to group him in the "scowl at menacingly" category rather than pile him into the "to kill" list with Kudou. Crafty kid.
"Omi!" Ken sounded scandalized this time.
"What, it's what you want, isn't it Ken-kun?"
"Well, yeah…but…you're too young to be talking about this stuff!" Ken argued, stomping unintentionally on the reaching fingers of the target, who had crawled in his direction, obviously in hopes of the brunette with the claws being more accommodating about his death wish than the redhead with the katana had been.
"I know about… this stuff!" Omi argued defensively. By his tone however, everyone figured the kid was redder in the face than Yohji after his sixth shot of tequila last New Year's.
"Hey, we're on your side here, Ken!" Kudou interceded, offering his aid to the kid out of pity and (no doubt) a certain fondness for Bombay's girlish figure and big blue eyes.
Aya scowled and resumed digging in the file cabinet. "I don't believe this," he muttered.
"Really Fujimiya, what's the big deal?" the oldest continued nonchalantly.
"Balinese, if you don't shut up I'm going to turn the communicator off," the redhead threatened coolly. **And then kill you in your sleep tonight,** Abyssinian made a mental note.
Yohji feigned hurt. "What happened with the importance of teamwork and communication? You could turn off your communicator, we could all die, and you'd never know!" he snarked. "Besides, we're just trying to help out our fellow teammates, Ommitchi and me."
"That's right!" Omi chirruped, managing to sound chipper.
"And what's wrong with being uke anyway?"
Aya growled at the older man's not-so-subtle tag on. "Kudou…"
"Woah…all I'm saying is, don't knock it 'til you've tried it, princess."
From the sound of the blonde's tone, there was very little doubt to the fact that he'd been in that position before. And had thoroughly enjoyed ever minute of it.
Everyone was silent.
Though not necessarily surprised.
"What?"
"Ah…er…nothing, Yohji-kun."
Satisfied with that answer, Yohji continued to push his point. "You honestly don't think Ken would like having sex with you that way if being uke didn't feel good, right?"
Yohji's bluntness received several responses.
"Yohji-kun!!" Scandalized shock.
"Y-yohji!" Uncontrollable blushing.
"Kudou…" A low-pitched snarl.
"If you ask me, you're completely bitch-whipped anyway, Aya," Balinese stated nonchalantly. "It's just the next logical step."
Aya's eyes narrowed into dangerous looking slits. "Bitch-whipped?"
Ken's eyes reacted similarly to his lover's, though for a different reason. "Bitch?"
"Er, bastard-whipped?" Yohji amended, tone forming a virtual shrug. "Is there even a technical term for just guys? Does Aya even count? But bitch-whipped just has a nice ring to it…"
"Dick-whipped?" Omi offered helpfully in the same voice he used to offer them a cheery "good morning!" every day.
Everyone was silent.
"What?" Omi asked, confused. "Was that not it?"
"Bitch-whipped?" Aya repeated, voice doing an impressive impression of gravel.
"Well yeah. I'll bet you just humored Ken this whole time because you were worried he'd cut you off for a month, like last time." Yohji smirked when he spoke, and it broadcasted itself all over their channel.
But Aya didn't really have a response to that.
"C'mon Aya, everyone knows Hidaka wears the pants in that relationship."
"He does?" the redhead seemed to pause in his rage to try and figure out how that statement was in anyway justified just because he didn't like being cut off.
"I do?" Ken looked just as perplexed.
Yohji snorted. "Not really helping the cause there, Kenken."
"Er… I mean…I do!"
"That was convincing… oh Ken. Just take me against the wall now," Aya deadpanned irritably.
Ken pouted.
"Ne, ne, guys! What's wrong with Dick-whipped?" Omi persisted, a bit hurt that his last suggestion hadn't even garnered a comment from men he cared for and respected. "It fits, doesn't it? Since Ken-kun has a…"
"God you guys! Never mind we even had this conversation!" Ken announced, flustered and most likely blushing from his cheeks to probably somewhere near the ends of his toes. "Let's just finish the mission and get out of here!"
"Thank you," Aya murmured, glancing heavenward.
Even the target seemed to pause in his bugnuck-induced hypovolemia, grateful.
Kudou however, could be stubborn when the threat of Aya's katana was more than 100 feet away. "Oh no, you're not getting out of it this easy, princess. Ken might be easy to embarrass with penis-talk, but I'm a completely different story."
No argument there.
"So I'm gonna disarm the bombs one at a time until you swear Kenken gets to be seme next time, Fujimiya!" he threatened, a kind of suicidal glee in his voice. "It's for your own good, you know." Yohji paused to snicker in the annoyingly self-satisfied manner he always snickered in. "And you'll thank me for it later. Or during, depending on how vocal you two get upstairs tonight if all goes according to plan…"
"Balinese…"
Yohji coughed, as if clearing all hentai thoughts from his mind and focusing on the task at hand. The team could hear two distinctive clicks from Kudou's end of the line. "First two explosives disengaged, Abyssinian."
Ken sighed and hid his face in his hand. Was he even part of the scenario anymore? Was he even in the first place? Probably not…most likely, the only reason Yohji was 'helping' him out was because the older man thought it was funny as all hell when Aya was pissed at him and couldn't do anything about it but growl in the back of his throat because Kudou wasn't in striking distance.
Ken continued to pout severely to himself. All he'd wanted was to have a discussion with his boyfriend about their relationship, dammit! Why did that always turn itself into a fiasco?
Why?
Cranky, Siberian figured to hell with it all. Looking over as Ran angrily hissed elaborate death threats with such exotic items as olive pits and sesame seeds to Balinese over the intercom while Omi tried to placate the two older men with reason, Ken realized that the focus had shifted from he and his lover to the Kudou-Idiotic-Moment-of-the-Day. He muttered and decisively and decided to just ignore them all until they decided to grow up a little.
"Urrhnggg…" Ueda groaned.
Ken glared at the flopping target in frustration as blood poured out of the man's mouth and splattered on his shoe and the cuff of his jeans. Well, that was just a great way to end a great night.
Angry, Ken kicked halfheartedly at the shaking man, trying to wipe off some of the blood from his shoe before it dried and caked and stained the leather permanently.
"Fine goddammit, Kudou! Ken can be seme!" Aya snarled after Yohji threatened to toss the C-4 out the window. That stuff was expensive for Christ's sake and the ever-present frugality in the redhead just wouldn't let that money go wasted.
Ken looked up abruptly on hearing that. "Really?" Part of him was offended that it took appealing to Aya's inner miser to get him to comply.
"Really?" Yohji and Omi sounded just as surprised.
"Sweet!" Yohji crowed after a moment, triumphant.
"Now can we commence?" the redhead growled, not at all happy with the outcome. Or the number of times he capitulated to his irritating teammates tonight.
In his fury, he couldn't help but turn and kick the target sadistically in the ribs before resuming his search through the file cabinet. It was because of scum like this that he was even here in the first place!
The body shuddered and spurted some more blood onto the soccer player's shoe.
On Ken's annoyed look, Aya felt slightly better.
~~~~The next night…~~~~
"Ugh…" Aya groaned inarticulately, burying his face into Ken's shoulder.
He paused in his movements for a moment, allowed his lover to adjust, to let his harsh, rapid breathing calm a bit. It was silent in their bedroom for a while.
Just a while.
Ken jerked and went rigid underneath him suddenly. "Wait a minute, Ran…I thought I was going to get to be seme this time!" he protested out of nowhere, voice muffled against Aya's sweat-slicked skin.
Aya lifted his head from Ken's collarbone to look at his lover in frustrated incredulity. "What, you want me to stop now?" he asked, tone clearly indicating that he didn't appreciate being interrupted when he'd just begun.
On Aya's look, Ken mentally slapped himself. Damn him! The soccer player was so easy to distract, and Ran knew it! One second they were kissing, and then petting, and then stripping each other, and the next he was pinned under the taller assassin with his legs spread like a South American hooker for US currency. "But…"
"Dammit, Ken," Aya growled. He didn't want to be drawn back into last night's argument, especially at this particular moment, when the brunette had been squirming underneath him all flushed and murmuring incoherently…"Now is not a good time," the redhead vocalized roughly, pushing forward and rolling his hips firmly to punctuate exactly what he thought of the younger man's timing.
Aya's movement elicited a fluttery, involuntary moan from his lover. "Uuuhn…but…but…" Aya thrust harder. "Agh!! Holy shit…f-fine…" Ken keened breathlessly, wrapping his legs around his boyfriend in surrender. "B-but…next…time …" he added, trying to sound forceful amidst the waves of mind-numbing pleasure slamming through his body.
Aya managed to conceal a smirk at Ken's weak declaration and pushed forward unmercifully with his hips again. "Whatever you say," he responded soothingly, concentrating on meticulously nipping at every inch of the particularly delicious looking length of sinew along the brunette's throat. He was nothing if not thorough.
"God dammit!"
Aya suppressed a frustrated groan when Ken hissed angrily in his ear again. Now what? Honestly, the younger man had the worst timing…
"Ungh…harder, Ran!'
Aya blinked.
Oh.
Smirking wickedly, he complied. "Whatever you say."
END