Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. The authors claim no ownership of the characters within, nor received any compensation for this work.
Even with it being well into spring, a perch on the small dock by the lake was chilly. Not that Cye paid much attention to the weather, if he didn't freeze at the bottom of the ocean, he wasn't about to ice over in a little spring breeze. But there were other homes on the lake and other people who could see him, so he'd grabbed a fluffy fleece coat on his way out. It would hardly do to give the neighbors even more fuel for gossip. Speculations on their preferences were to be expected, curiosity over the things that made them *truly* odd were to be avoided.
Hmf, he thought, watching a few birds bob on the lake's surface. Some example I turned out to be. I go on and on about getting along then blow up at them. Brilliant... Though he wasn't sure which was making his mood worse, that he'd blown up or that Yohji fellow being belligerent. Cye knew that the right thing was for the four to stay here. If nothing else, they desperately needed the rest and he knew that Yohji was very important to Aya in some way. He'd tried asking about it once or twice but had never really received a good answer from the taciturn redhead. The wretched man would probably be clawing for an excuse to leave, regardless of whatever game Sage was up to.
He brooded a bit more, staring mopily over the water when a soft tread sounded behind him.
"Cye-chan?"
He half-turned to see Aya approaching. It seemed that he'd taken the time to rescue his pants from the laundry. After the breakfast debacle, Cye doubted that he'd be comfortable enough to go without that protection for a while. He'd also been enveloped in an oversized tan jacket, pressed on him, no doubt, by Kento before leaving. And no doubt he'd tried to be stubborn about it before Kento pointed out that it would make Cye happy. He shifted over a bit, leaning into his lover's shoulder with a contented sigh.
"Are you that displeased at the morning?"
Cye twisted a little to look up then took a moment to just admire. He didn't have nearly as many chances as he'd liked to just *look* at him. They'd made the relationship work, after everything they could hardly do otherwise, but distance and duties rarely allowed them to physically be together. There were enemies that knew where the men of Weiss lived and it was dangerous for Cye to spend too much time there. While Aya and his friends were protected by paper deaths, Cye and his were not, nor were their families. To make it worse, Cye knew there had to be questions about That Night and how Aya had managed to survive long enough to get to a hospital. He certainly didn't want to encourage questions on both how Aya had lost that much blood from a wound so relatively small and what a peculiar looking injury it had probably been.
All that were left were a pair of scars about the size of a large coin on his chest and back. Not bad for an injury that had taken a sizable portion of his chest wall. Sage had done a good job on them both even if he hadn't had the power to completely heal them there. Cye shook himself internally, these were not the thoughts to have when he had precious moments together with Aya.
"Not displeased, precisely," he said, snuggling closer when Aya draped his arm over Cye's shoulder. "It's more frustration. There really isn't another good option besides you fellows staying here and keeping your heads down, at least not one that wouldn't put us in danger as well. I hadn't really expected everyone to be best of friends right off but..."
"But Yohji's words are disturbing you and you fear he will leave."
"Exactly, and I don't know what else to do. Everyone's still hurt, there's only so much that Sage and I could do, and no one's listening."
"We are not accustomed to trust," Aya said slowly, weighing each word. "For those of Weiss, one trusts one's team and nothing else. They decide life or death and we are not encouraged to have true ties to a world we no longer exist in."
"I wish I could make it all go away," Cye murmured. "It's terrible to say but sometimes..."
"Sometimes you wish we were still in our home," Aya finished for him, saying the thing that Cye could not.
Cye nodded against Aya's chest, "Sometimes..."
It wasn't a wish that either of them could ever admit to anyone else, even if the others had known what their Home was. Admitting that you really rather wished you weren't alive was not something to be encouraged. Aya and Cye might know what waited for them beyond this life, but no one else would ever believe them.
They sat in silence for a time, before Aya began to sit up and straighten his shoulders, in preparation to speak. Cye lifted his head.
"About... your note..."
Cye knew it would come sooner or later, after the initial flare of anger. "It's all true, love. It took a bit of persuading but the hospital confirmed everything."
Aya would not meet his eyes, focused on the ripples of the lake lapping at the dock's supports. Perhaps it was a symptom of his injury, but his perfectly pale face seemed whiter than ever. "I... I... cannot. It would be better for her if she thought that I died that day. It would be better for her if she never found out what I have done in her name."
"Ran." But the stubborn swordsman had made up his mind, at least for the moment. Cye could see it in the tightness of his jaw and the narrow focus of his eyes. How many times had he seen that same look while they were together in that beyond place? He had weathered all of those pig-headed refusals to open up, and he could weather this one as well. Shaking his head, Cye laid his hands over Aya's tightly clenched ones. "Later, love. We can talk about it later."
*****
While the mood on the dock was perhaps somber, the mood on the lawn was not. Ryo had outfitted Ken with a spare shirt and pair of shorts and they were on their way outside. Not surprisingly, the two had found they got along quite well, about as much as Yohji seemed to be disliking everything.
"So who's this White Blaze?" Ken asked, idly dribbling the soccer ball as they headed out. "He wasn't with you guys earlier, right? When we all met up before?"
Ryo laughed, pausing on the porch to put on his cleats. "No way, dude. I don't let him in sight of town anymore, he really freaks people out. Just don't, like, try and run or anything, okay? He won't hurt you but he'd probably try to scare you." He grinned at the odd look Ken was giving him. "Trust me."
"Your funeral," Ken muttered, following him over the lawn. He managed not to jump as Ryo stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistled sharply.
Somehow... a giant white tiger appearing out of the trees and galloping towards them was not on his list of possibilities. Don't run... he clung to that thought as the beast got closer. TV and pictures hadn't prepared him for just how *big* a full grown tiger was. He could probably bite an arm off without much trouble and Ken found himself wanting his own claws back rather badly.
Ryo just laughed and knelt as the tiger got closer. "How you doing, White Blaze?" he asked, scratching vigorously at ears and neck as Blaze gently headbutted his chest. "This is Ken, okay? He's going to be hanging around here for awhile with some friends so behave." He stood up, looking at his stunned companion with a grin. "Ken, this is White Blaze. Blaze, this is Ken. Now be nice."
Hesitantly, Ken extended a hand out, ready to snatch it back at a moment's notice. He gingerly touched the top of the tiger's head, scratching around his ears. And nearly fell over when the deep, rumbling purr started.
"Well that's it," Ryo said. "He likes you. So let's play, okay?"
Ken grinned in response and all three dashed out onto the lawn.
*****
Omi surveyed the small pile on the coffee table with a growing dismay. Even a brief glance told him that most of what little gear they'd salvaged was destroyed at worst, badly damaged at best. Salt crystals sparkled in the gaps in the plastic, battery compartments were hanging open and filled with sand. It couldn't look in worse shape if someone had done it on purpose. Without the encryption gear they were, to be blunt, screwed. With Kritiker in ruins, it was worth their necks to try and make contact without it. Even with the immediate crisis over, it would probably be shoot first, verify later, regardless of stated policy.
He could probably salvage some of it, enough to let them come in anyway, given time and some basic equipment. Weiss gear was built to be durable after all. Time... dammit, Cye was right. He hated to admit it and would still worry about making these guys a target but they didn't have much choice. He still ached from scalp to toes and the others had been moving a little too gingerly at breakfast. He suspected he didn't want to think about that too hard either. He remembered being slammed against the pillar, remembered the feel and sound of bone cracking and splintering. In a sane world he wouldn't be up this morning complaining about broken equipment. But then the world hadn't been sane in a long, long time.
Thankfully, he was distracted by a familiar, lanky form. "Yohji-kun," he said with a small smile. "Feeling any better?" All things considered, it'd been a rough morning for the blond.
Yohji shrugged, looking down at the mess. "Sucks that none of them smokes. What is all that?"
Omi grimaced, waving at the pile. "It's what's left of our stuff, all ruined. We're stuck until I can fix it."
"Want any help?"
"Uhhh... no offense but you don't know a resistor from a capacitor. Thanks though." He paused for a moment, looking at the mess. "You might want to check out the car to see if there was anything I missed? I don't think I took as good a look as I could have and Aya-kun hides stuff in the weirdest places sometimes."
"Sure thing, chibi," Yohji ruffled his hair as he passed. He knew the kid hated it, hated being treated like a kid at all, but Omi would know it meant he was all right. Not all right with the situation, of course, but that things were okay between them.
Out in the hall, Kento waited until he heard the other door open and close before heading in himself. He didn't understand at all what Sage saw in the abrasive blond. Yeah, things were really messed up right now but at least they were safe and alive, right? They were really lucky to have a place like this to go, right? It was just bad manners as far as Kento was concerned, the man needed someone like Mama Fuan to straighten him out. But this was getting him side-tracked...
"Hey," he said, walking in and looking down at the kid. "I was wondering if you wanted to take a break and see if we could find something besides PJ's for you. We've got a ton of old stuff around, maybe it'd fit?"
Omi looked up at him, grinning. "Really? I didn't want to impose but this is getting sort of weird. If it's not too much trouble? I'm not getting anywhere with this junk anyway." He wriggled up from his seat on the floor, hitching the slightly large pajama bottoms up a little higher.
"No problem," Kento said. "It's all just boxed up in the attic. Come on." Leaving the room, he waited until he heard bare feet padding along behind him and headed for the attic pulldown. "You might want to ask Rowan about tools and stuff?" He said, stretching to his full height to grab for the cord. "I don't know what he's got but he's messing with things all the time. He fixes most everything when it's broken."
"Rowan... He's the one that attacked Yohji-kun this morning, right? Do, uh... you guys do that sort of thing a lot?"
Kento smirked back at him, "What, hop on strange guys that land on our doorstep? Nah, not me anyway. Besides, he's not really my type. Knowing Rowan, he probably just saw blond and went for it. He's not all that clear-headed till at least the first cup of coffee." He yanked on the pull-down, unfolding the stairs and waving towards them. "Come on but watch out. We've probably got half of Tokyo stored up here somewhere."
Boxes upon boxes were piled everywhere in neat, orderly rows leaving an aisle clear down the center. He moved quickly down to the far end, dragging a few out of the pile. "I think some of Cye's old stuff is in these," Kento flipped one box open and started digging. "He's probably the closest fit and as long as it's close he can fix it the rest of the way."
Omi peered curiously into the carton, hitching his pants up again. "How much stuff do you have up here anyway? There's an awful lot of boxes."
"A lot of it is Mia's," he said, setting the box aside and reaching for another one. "She's Ryo's girlfriend, a teacher and owns the place. A lot of it's old armor and weapons and stuff she got from her grandfather. Some of it's pretty cool. The rest is just stuff we've collected over time. We've lived here for a couple years around going to school and all. Hey, give these a try?" He tossed a pair of tan slacks at the boy. "Good thing Cye used to wear his pants too short. They might not need much work."
Omi retreated down a little way and ducked behind a stack. He wasn't terribly body modest, not after living with several men himself for a while, but they'd forgotten to supply underwear with the pajamas. Not that he thought the other boy would do anything but flashing a near stranger was never a good idea. When he came out, there was a neat stack of clothes next to a few boxes.
"Not bad," Kento said, looking him over. "I sorted out some of least awful stuff. Just be glad Cye grew out of the sailor shirt phase and Rowan got out of the huge freaking collars. There's enough here to kit everyone out at least a bit."
"Sailor shirts?" Omi padded over, peeking at the open boxes again.
"Oh yeah," Kento grinned. "You should see how they used to dress. Cye had this one pair of red plaid pants his mom gave him. We tried to convince him they were ugly for years before he finally gave in."
Kento's smile was infectious, and the larger boy's easygoing nature was quickly helping Omi to relax. These guys didn't feel like strangers at all, even though he'd only known them for a few hours. Without even thinking about how much he was revealing, Omi replied, "We have that same trouble with Aya-kun and Ken-kun and their orange clothing."
"Hey!" Kento plunked his fists in his hips, looking very broad and imposing indeed. Omi was fearful that he might have insulted his host somehow, but he caught the twinkle in the muscular boy's brown eyes. "What's wrong with orange, huh? It's a strong, earthy color! It's the color of lifelong Buddhist monks! It's..."
"Okay, okay!" Omi exclaimed finally, breaking into a laugh despite himself. His ribs still ached even as he laughed, but it felt so good to let loose. The last few weeks had been nothing but stress and grim preparations, avoiding Schwarz and trying to find Aya's sister. Laughter had been in short supply. Even if it hurt now, the laughter was worth it. "I'll try to learn to respect the color orange, sensei," he teased, feeling much more at ease after Kento's exaggerated over-reaction had helped to lighten his general mood.
Much to his surprise, Omi was suddenly tackled to the floor by big hands, large but nimble fingers tickling up under his arms. "Sensei, eh? I'm not that much older than you, kid! I'm only eighteen, don't age me before my time!" Kento demanded, tickling Omi mercilessly. He couldn't seem to squirm away no matter how hard he tried, and the laughter that felt so good had stolen his voice and his breath, making it impossible to argue or even give in. All Omi could do was squirm and laugh, kicking his feet helplessly.
Kento wasn't in any hurry to stop, mercilessly tickling until the blond boy was gasping for breath and wearing out. It was good for the kid, he reasoned, being a great way to get rid of built up tension. It wasn't the best way, of course, but they really didn't know each other that well yet and there was no reason to assume that just because Cye's boyfriend liked guys that his teammates did too. The kid was pretty cute though, kicking and squirming like that. He grinned down at bright blue eyes and eased off Omi slowly. "Bet you weren't expecting that, were you? Come on, let's get you out of that shirt and into something a lot less silly."
Omi sat up gingerly, wincing though still smiling. "Anything's better than cartoon dolphins. Even sailor shirts." He yanked the pajama top off with another wince, folding it up as Kento grabbed a light blue t-shirt of the top of the stack.
"Here you... Oh man, that must still hurt like hell. I can't believe I totally forgot! Are you okay? Man!" He smacked a fist into his cupped palm. "I shouldn't have tickled you, are you sure you're okay?"
Touched, if a bit puzzled by the concern, Omi paused in putting the shirt on. "Kento? What are you talking about? Why...?" He caught a glance of himself in a dusty mirror propped against the wall and blinked. His entire back, from neck to waist was covered in the yellow-green remains of bruising. A few purple spots here and there spoke of places that had taken deeper damage. When fresh it must have been a lot worse than the beating he'd gotten from Hirofumi. "I... wow, it really was bad, wasn't it?" Of course, the twisting back and forth to get a better view hardly helped.
"Put the shirt on," Kento said firmly, standing up. "We're going downstairs and get you some ice and some aspirin. Then you're going to sit and do nothing for the rest of the day. We've got lots of books and games and stuff."
"But I have work to do!" Omi's voice was momentarily muffled as he pulled the shirt over his head. He wasn't sure why the older boy was so concerned but... well, he sort of liked it. Just a little. Really.
"Later." The tone brooked no argument and in short order, Omi found himself being marched downstairs.
*****
"Leave Aya alone, Yohji. Don't be such a dick, Yohji. Go check the car, Yohji. Oh, and while you're at it, try to be a little nicer to the meddling molesters, won't you? To hell with this! If Omi weren't still hurt, I'd..."
"You'd... ?" inquired a smooth, low, polite voice that very gently cut off Yohji's muttered tirade. He jerked his eyes up from the ground, squinting in the bright sunlight that shone merrily down on the house's drive. Aya's Porsche remained parked at a skewed angle, exactly as the redhead had left it the morning before. If Omi had looked inside, he hadn't moved it any further from the front door. There the car sat, but now, the smug and mysterious blond roommate at this fucked-up house was perched on the hood.
"Aya's going to be really pissed if he sees that," Yohji stated, halting his meandering steps toward the car. Well out of Sage's arm's reach, he stood his ground and slid his hands into his pockets, ready to do battle. This well-manicured prettyboy was not about to get the best of Kudou Yohji. As far as he was concerned, there was only room for one prettyboy in any gang, and Yohji already had that position sewn up. By the looks of things, he'd been at the game since before this kid had hit puberty.
Still, he had to admit, this Sage was one smooth kid. Even his shrug was elegant and practiced. "Your Aya is down near the lake with our Cye."
"Promise we won't leave any prints," added a sharper, heavily-accented voice. Yohji shifted his attention away from Sage to see the other one, the blond's constant companion and lackey in morning molestation, straighten up from peering into the Porsche's windows. Rowan, of the blue hair and the mouth that tasted like mint and candy and something musky that Yohji didn't have the guts to admit he could identify. Rowan who had kissed him while Sage just watched and smirked.
Great. Just his luck, Yohji was going to get tag-teamed again, and not in the pleasant experimenting-college-girls kind of way. "It's your funeral," he informed them both, shrugging. "Aya always knows, he's got a sixth sense about people disturbing his things." The blond's cool words niggled at him, wriggling down into his brain and festering there, prompting him to add more sharply, "And he's not 'my' Aya. He's not anybody's Aya, which you'd know if you paid any attention."
"On the contrary, he seems to be Cye's Aya now," Sage observed without a flicker of motion.
"Which you'd'a known, if ya'd paid any attention," Rowan added, folding his arms on the roof of the car.
Both of them just looked at him, a pair of bright blue eyes and a pair of cool lavender that felt much too familiar. Yohji found he couldn't look at them directly. They were right, of course. But why should he care? Aya was Aya; he'd found someone to love, though Yohji still didn't understand quite how. It had nothing to do with Yohji; it was none of his business. "He's still going to kill you for sitting on his car," he mumbled lamely, heading toward the car again. "Now move, okay? I've gotta check it for Omi."
Yohji pawed through the pockets of his pants and the jacket he'd been lent, realizing too late that he'd forgotten one thing essential for the plundering of Aya's car.
"Looking for these?"
Yohji froze, hearing the unmistakable tingle-jangle of a ring of keys. Looking up, he found that they hung from one lazily crooked, porcelain-pale finger belonging to the ice-eyed blond. Now Rowan was draped on Sage's lap over Aya's car, shameless, careless, grinning like he knew something Yohji didn't. Suddenly Yohji got the distinct impression that maybe these boys really -did- know something he didn't.
"Enough with the baby games," Yohji sighed, running a hand back through his messy hair. "Give me the damn keys. The sooner we get everything sorted out, the sooner we'll all be out of your hair, okay?"
No sooner were the words out of his mouth then Sage's eyes darkened and narrowed inexplicably. Without knowing why, Yohji was struck by the sudden feeling of a storm approaching, even though the sky was blue and mostly cloudless. Still, it seemed that the air smelled sharp, as it does right before lightning strikes.
Sage didn't say a word, even when Rowan began to look slightly alarmed. Rather than hand the keys over, or throw them as Yohji expected, the blond tugged at the front of Rowan's jeans and let the keys fall from his hand. The blue-haired boy jumped with surprise, dully clinking the keys that were now firmly stuck in the crotch of his jeans. Then he laughed, and Sage smiled thinly. "All yours," the blond said calmly. "Please feel free to retrieve them yourself."
Yohji was completely stunned into silence. It was the same way he felt when Rowan had climbed onto his lap at breakfast, and Sage had that same knowing look on his face. Well, this time Yohji didn't have to sit still for it. Not even bothering to respond, he spun on his heel and stalked away from the practical joking pair.
How dare they?! Yohji fumed, striding blindly out into the yard. He didn't know where he would go, or even where he -could- go, in this strange location in the middle of nowhere. All he could think about was that childish game, the teasing gesture, as if he'd -want- to go rooting around in some strange guy's family jewels! As if Sage -knew- about his own hidden thoughts, the ideas and wishes he didn't even fully admit to himself... but he couldn't. Yohji concealed his true self too well for anyone to recognize his private desires... didn't he?
He found himself headed toward the lake, and toward a little wooden dock that perched out on the water. Yohji came to a stop once again, suddenly, with his heart pounding in his ears.
On the end of the dock sat Aya, cool, calm and collected Aya, bent halfway back toward the wood in the arms of that pushy little redheaded boy who'd claimed him right out from under Yohji's nose. The two were locked in a passionate kiss, one that took even observing Yohji's breath away. All of his attention was rooted on Aya's face. Passion, fiery-hot, blushed all over his pale skin -- a flush that Yohji had never expected to see, never thought was possible... and desperately wanted for himself.