First Kiss
by Aimless
Aya never did sleep through the night. At least now he had someone to share the lonely hours between three am and dawn with. Aya lay in bed idly sifting his fingers through the dark blond hair of the man that slept next to him. If you could call that total abandonment of consciousness sleeping. It was a good thing they were in Yohji’s bed. Aya’s would hardly accommodate the sprawling figure next to him.
It still amazed the red head that he was sharing a bed with anyone much less a team mate. He never thought he deserved such attention and his cold attitude had put off a few would be suitors in the past. Although to tell the truth he had been in the blond’s bed before when he had first joined Weiss. He had woken in this room, after Ken had beaten the crap out of him, to find himself the target of intense scrutiny. Yohji had been sitting at his bedside staring. There had been a smirky worldly wise smile on his face and his hand had been playing with Aya’s hair.
It had been Yohji that had given him the name Aya because that is the name he murmured when he had woken. The blond had repeated it in an overly sweet voice and said that it had fit such a beautiful flower. For the first time in his life Aya had blushed. Having his new team mate stare at him with eyes the color of spring grass had been unnerving. Then when Yohji had smiled it had caused his stomach to flutter. That had been enough to make him angry. He did not have time to listen to his libido. Aya had to avenge his sister and vowed nothing would sway him from that path. A lover was a complication he just had not been interested in.
The blond’s open appraisal and obvious interest had been glaringly apparent from that very first day. From then on it delighted the blond to tease his taciturn and impassive team mate. Every muttered oath and flush of Aya’s pale cheeks had been a victory in Yohji’s game of seduction. Aya had resisted the suggestions, the winks, leers and borderline intimate touches for more than a year.
It was not that Aya was offended that Yohji was a man. The redhead knew for years that women held little sexual appeal to him and the groupies in the flower shop only emphasized that fact. It was that he could not let himself be distracted from his personal vendetta by giving in to his baser needs. That all changed the night a mission went horribly wrong. They were outnumbered and cut off from each other. Communication was almost impossible and Weiss was scrambling to retreat and regroup. Aya had been exiting the building when he had seen Omi cornered. The teen had three lethal darts in each hand and was readying himself for a suicidal rush. Aya couldn’t let that happen. Weiss was his only family even if he had never told them how much they meant to him. It was his greatest fear that he would have to watch them die like his first team.
So with little thought to his own safety Aya had rushed the group with katana in hand. He yelled to get the thugs’ attention and with perfect precision and grace cut the enemy down. Omi took advantage of the confusion and cast his darts with deadly accuracy. Still it was impossible to dodge a bullet and when Aya had seen the gun aimed at Omi’s head he had shoved the teen out of the way. This put him in the line of fire and the dying target had not missed. Aya felt a searing pain in his chest and his Katana dropped from nerveless fingers. He vaguely heard the others call out to him as he crumpled to the ground.
He drifted in and out of consciousness and finally woke in a hospital a week later. Yohji had been at his bedside holding his hand. Aya blinked up at his team mate amazed to be alive. He was even more stunned to see tears in Yohji’s emerald green eyes. The greatest shock of all was when Yohji leaned down and kissed him tenderly on the lips.
The kiss was a bit hesitant and so full of emotion that Aya was nearly overwhelmed by that simple gesture. Warm hands cupped his cheeks and Yohji had whispered his relief at the redhead’s return to consciousness. Apparently it had been touch and go for a while and his prognosis had not been a good one.
Aya had also been made aware that Ken and Omi also stood vigil at his bedside. After a careful hug from Omi and a pat on the shoulder from Ken Aya had drifted off to sleep again. After that Yohji had become his constant companion. He helped Aya get through his hospital stay and waited on him at home. Yohji drove him to his physical therapy appointments and badgered him to eat and take his medicine. Oddly enough Aya did not seem to mind.
A full month after the near fatal shooting Yohji had kissed him again. It was a hungry passionate kiss that Aya had returned with full fervor. The sparks that smoldered under the surface since they had met fanned into a raging inferno. They had not even made it to either one of their bedrooms that first time. It was a good thing that Omi or Ken had not walked into the sparring room or they would have gotten an eyeful.
Now three months after that Yohji delighted in kissing Aya as often as he could. Much to Aya’s embarrassment and mostly in public. Yohji liked to flirt with danger and stole intimate moments whenever the mood struck him. In the shop, in the storeroom, either bedroom, the greenhouse, the mission room and even on the kitchen table. Ken and Omi had learned to either enter a room with their eyes closed or knock first. Aya did not know whose complexion was red the most, his or Ken’s. The man seemed to have a knack for walking in on the pair at the worst of times.
So here Aya was sharing Yohji’s bed and feeling more content that he ever had his whole life. That kiss in the hospital might not have been the first one he had ever gotten but it had been the one that had meant the most.