Chapter 3

They sat curled around each other on the floor of the demon's lair, naked, luxuriating in the feel of the silks, satins and velvets that lined the little dimensional pocket. The incubus played gently with the feathered tip of one of the seraph's great white wings, purring with pleasure as his lover ran a soft brush through his hair.

The angel kept his strokes even and gentle, enjoying the response the pampering elicited from the little demon. "Now I understand why humans insist on keeping cats as pets," he murmured softly, affection clear in his voice. "I think that purring of yours is the most soothing sound I've ever heard in my life."

His lover glanced back over his shoulder, hurt showing deep in his golden eyes. "Soothing?" he repeated, affronted. "It's supposed to be erotic!"

The seraph chuckled quietly. "It's that, too, and you know it," he told him, tapping him on the nose with the brush before returning to his steady stroking. "But I'm not as susceptible to your wiles as the poor mortals."

"Oh?" the incubus drawled, stretching lazily. The angel caught his breath at the wave of lust the simple action sent crashing over him. "You seemed susceptible enough half an hour ago," the demon continued, a glint in his eyes showing that he was well aware of the effect his movements had on his lover. "And why 'poor mortals'? They've never objected to my... attentions..."

"That's because you've snared them with your powers long before they realize the danger they're in. By the time they figure out what you are, it's much too late."

The demon shrugged negligently, the muscles in his back rippling enticingly with the motion. "At least my victims don't die in mortal agony," he replied indifferently. "Their last moments are full of the most incredible pleasure they've ever felt. That's more than you can say about most demons."

The seraph sighed and leaned forward to rest his head on his lover's shoulder. "I don't understand how you can be so casual about killing people!" he complained, a familiar argument between them. "Pleasure or not, you're ending their lives prematurely. It's not right!"

"It's my nature," the demon snapped back in frustration, tired of having to justify himself to the angel. "Your nature is to run around orchestrating the saving of souls of mortals who don't want to be saved, and mine is to sleep with anything that moves and feed off the sexual energy. And despite what they might believe of incubi, it's not like I'm hurting their immortal souls any. Bless it all to Heaven, why can't you at least try to understand that!"

Despite himself the seraph had to chuckle at the sound of his lover using a blessing as an epithet, though he'd heard it many times before. To another demon the words would have caused a shiver of pain, but of course an angel was unaffected by them. Seeing his reaction, the incubus scowled and deliberately changed his wording. "Damn you," he hissed, and there was enough force behind his words that the angel actually cried out in pain. "Damn you to Hell! I didn't ask you to fall in love with me, I didn't ask you to turn my life upside down and make me fall in love with you! You may be in danger of Falling, but I'm risking eternal destruction to be with you! And you can't do anything but lecture me about things I can't help and wouldn't change if I could. Damn it, you knew what I was when you fell in love with me, and you knew what that meant!"

He'd gotten up and paced to the other side of the room, too upset to bear the touch of his angel lover. There were tears on his face, the tears of a spirit in agony. The seraph saw that and his sobs from the pain of the curses turned to sobs of repentance.

"I'm sorry!" he cried, reaching a hand out pleadingly to his lover. "Love, please, I'm sorry. You're right. I have no right to judge you, and I shouldn't try to change you. Please, forgive me! I just... I just can't understand you. I'll try harder, I promise!"

The demon sighed and hugged himself tightly, his wings drooping until the tips dragged on the ground. "Bless it," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. "Why can't I ever stay angry at you?" Moving back to the nest they had made, he dropped down and wrapped his arms tightly around the seraph's neck. "Just hold me?" he whispered, tucking his head under the taller celestial's chin. The angel rocked him gently, and they both cried for the pain of an impossible love between two such opposite beings; a love that they nevertheless could not deny.


Omi tossed and turned in the narrow bed, utterly unable to sleep. His room at Villa White had no curtains over the window, and he could see a tiny block of the night sky, the bright stars staring down like watchful eyes. It gave him the shivers, reminding him of the sensation of being watched that he'd had at every mission for most of the last four months.

His frustrated body was not happy with him, and it was letting him know it in no uncertain terms. Gritting his teeth against the throbbing in his groin, Omi wondered if other teens had this much trouble with themselves, or if he was just some weird kind of sex-starved pervert. Damn it, he'd already taken care of it once that night, only to wake up a few hours later with the same problem!

And it was all because of Nagi, he was convinced of that. They'd seen each other twice more since that fateful incident in the alley; once as enemies fighting over a target, and once when they'd run into each other in an arcade and spent the afternoon challenging each other's high scores. This horrible driving NEED got worse with every contact they had, though they had never directly felt that strange electricity again as anything stronger than a small shock. He still couldn't stop thinking about the other boy, and to make matters worse, he was actually starting to like him for his own sake.

They had talked to each other, really talked to each other, for the first time that day in the arcade. Over the sound of the bleeps and whistles from the machines, a surprising number of bits of information had been traded. He now knew that Nagi's favourite colour was gold, for example, and that the other boy had a secret sweet tooth at least as strong as his own. He'd told Nagi a bit about what it was like to live without all his memories, and Nagi responded with all kinds of stories about the impossibility of living with his teammates.

It made the psychic real to him; not just a hated face from across the battlefield, but a living, breathing boy not really all that different from himself. He was acutely aware that it wouldn't have taken much for him to be in the same position Nagi was in - the other boy hated the world because of all the pain that had been dealt to him in his short life, and only Persia's intervention had saved Omi from what would have been a similar life on the streets had he managed to escape his captors. For that matter, if he hadn't been kidnapped at all, but had remained with his family, he had few doubts that he would be a very different person.

What's more, Nagi had begun reluctantly responding to the gentle cheerfulness that Omi always exuded, opening up and becoming a little less angry. He'd confided that Crawford had taken him aside after their encounter in the alleyway, and fumingly ordered him not to ever speak to Omi again. He told Omi that he suspected it was because of the possibility that the White Hunter might 'corrupt' him - convince him that not everyone in the world was deserving of his hate. That would weaken Crawford's control over him, and therefore his usefulness to the American.

Of all of Schwartz, Omi had concluded, Nagi was the best of the lot. He was beginning to see signs of an inherently gentle nature behind the angry exterior, and he almost dared to believe that Nagi might one day decide to leave the dark influence of his teammates. It was a thought he kept very, very deep in his mind, lest Schuldich pick it up and decide to do something to prevent that occurrence.

With a groan he dragged his mind back to the present, unsurprised to find that his wandering thoughts of Nagi had brought about a predictable reaction. His hand was wrapped around his erection, pumping in time to his heartbeat. He gave in to the inevitable.

Finally he lay gasping on his bed, hand and stomach coated for the second time that night. His body felt weighed down with exhaustion, but he was still too wound up to sleep. Suddenly he felt an urgent need to talk to someone about the mess that had become his life. Maybe if he could get someone else's point of view, it would help him straighten out his thoughts.

Wearily he cleaned himself up and slid on a pair of pyjama bottoms. He debated about the top for a few moments, before deciding that it was much too hot to wear them. Barefoot and bare-chested, he crept out of his room and down the hall.

He passed by Aya's door without a second thought. He sincerely doubted that Aya would be sympathetic to his plight. At Youji's door he paused, thinking. Youji had more experience with relationships than Ken, and Omi was fairly certain he could count on Youji not to tease him about something this upsetting, but he wasn't sure he could actually bring himself to confess his problem to the playboy. He also didn't know what Youji's reaction to finding out that Omi liked boys would be. He passed by, and knocked softly on Ken's door.

Then he wondered what he was doing. It was three in the morning; Ken would be sound asleep and probably wouldn't appreciate being woken up. They were supposed to be on vacation, catching up on their rest. However much he wanted to feel someone's arms around him, comforting him, he was being selfish. Wrapping his own arms around his torso as a poor substitute, he turned away, shivering.

There was a rustling behind him as he moved down the hall back towards his own room, and Ken's door opened to reveal the sleepy-looking ex-soccer player. He yawned and rubbed his eyes, and blinked at Omi. "Omi? What're you doing up?" he whispered, yawning again. His expression became concerned when he saw the way Omi was shaking. "You okay?"

Omi forced himself to nod, the movement jerky with effort. "Yeah. I'm fine. I'm sorry I woke you up, I... uh, I was on my way back from getting a glass of water and stumbled against your door," he hastily improvised. Ken frowned, unconvinced.

"C'mon, Omi, I know you better than that," Ken chided him. "You decided it was rude to wake me up and you were going back to your room, weren't you?"

Omi cursed himself for blushing, knowing Ken would read the truth on his face. The older boy chuckled softly. "Sometimes you're too polite for your own damn good, Omittchi," he berated him. "I'm already awake, and I'm not going to go back to sleep if I'm worrying about you, so why don't you just come in?"

Omi hesitated, but finally gave in and gratefully slipped in through the door Ken held open for him. The older boy shut the door behind them, and immediately Omi found himself enveloped in a firm embrace.

"You looked like you were in desperate need of a hug," Ken told him fondly, lifting one hand to stroke his hair. Omi leaned into the caress, burying his face in Ken's shoulder and hesitantly returning the embrace. They stood there like that for a moment as the tense muscles in Omi's neck and shoulders finally began to relax; then Ken pulled away and took his hand, tugging him towards the bed.

They sprawled out together, Omi tucked securely against Ken's side with his head pillowed on the older boy's shoulder. He listened to the soothing sound of his friend's heartbeat, and relaxed further.

"It's been a long time since we've done this," Ken murmured softly, stroking his back. "Remember when it was just you and me, before Youji and Aya came?"

Omi nodded, wrapping his arm around Ken's waist and holding tight. Two years ago when they had been alone in Weiss they had often slept curled up together like this, trying to chase away the nightmares. Despite Omi's long history with Kritiker, killing had been new to both of them, and they had needed each other's help to deal with it.

By the time Manx brought Youji to them they had long since dealt with their consciences, and slept together only for the comfort it brought them. The first time their new teammate had discovered them, however, he had teased them for a week straight. Embarrassed, they had put an end to the practice. Sadly, Omi realized now that the closeness of their friendship had been weakened because of it. "I've missed this," he confided, revelling in the simple warmth of his friend's body against his. Ken was also dressed only in his pyjama bottoms, and the spicy scent of his skin was strong when Omi inhaled.

"Me, too," Ken answered, squeezing him briefly. "Now, do you want to tell me what's bugging you? You don't have to."

Omi sighed, and snuggled a little closer. Hesitantly, he began, "I... I have to tell you something, first. I... I... I like boys," he finished in a rush, mumbling the words against Ken's chest.

The older boy blushed, hard enough that Omi could see it without raising his head. "Oh," was all he said, awkwardly. Omi felt his own face flaming.

"Please, don't be disgusted with me," he pleaded in an anguished whisper. If this ruined his relationship with his best friend, he didn't know what he'd do...

"No!" Ken exclaimed, sounding shocked at the thought. He hugged Omi closer to him. "I'm not disgusted, just surprised," he reassured the smaller boy hastily.

"You're... you're not?" Omi peeked up at him with one eye, studying his face intently.

Ken laughed softly. "I'm the last person who'd be disgusted by it, Omittchi," he murmured gently. "Didn't you know? Kase and I were together for years." Omi stared at him in surprise, thinking back over the mission that had involved Ken's former best friend. Suddenly several things that hadn't made sense at the time fell into place.

Ken shrugged, reading his thoughts in his eyes. "We didn't advertise it, it would have gotten us in trouble," he explained. "And he was kind of a special exception - I generally prefer girls. Is that what's been bothering you lately?"

Omi shook his head. "No, I dealt with that a long time ago. It's... it's a couple of things, really. I've been having these dreams..."

"The weird ones you were telling me about?" Ken prompted him when he trailed off, embarrassed.

"No... well, yes, I'm still having them, but aside from the fact that they seem to make me more tired, I've kind of gotten used to them." Omi sighed. "When I'm not having those dreams, I'm... they're..." He blushed fiercely, unable to express himself.

Ken caught on anyway, and chuckled. "Erotic dreams?" he guessed, and Omi nodded mutely. "Aw, Omittchi, that's no big deal. You're a few months short of eighteen - I'd be worried if you weren't having them!"

"I know that," Omi replied, red-faced. "I've had them for years. It's just... they're getting more frequent. A LOT more frequent. And I'm reacting to all sorts of things while I'm awake, too. It's like I can't think about anything else - it's embarrassing, and it's getting out of hand!"

Ken shrugged, the movement making his chest muscles ripple beneath Omi's cheek. "Welcome to your sexual peak," he told the younger boy wryly. "Get used to it - you're going to be living like that for the next couple of years. I'm just finally getting past that stage, and I'm almost twenty now!"

Omi still felt that he wasn't conveying the strength of his problem adequately, but he really didn't want to go into any more detail. He dropped that topic, and went on to his other, more pressing problem. "It's also... WHO I'm dreaming about," he admitted shyly.

"Hmm, let me guess. The three of us?" Ken took a stab at it. "That's not surprising either, you know. I mean, we're all reasonably attractive, and you're around us all the time. You don't really have any other friends you're close to."

Omi shook his head. "I do dream about you guys, but... lately the only person I can seem to think about is... is... Nagi," he finished in a shamed whisper.

Ken leaned up on his side to get a better look at him. "Nagi?" he repeated in surprise. "Why Nagi? I mean, I suppose he's pretty enough, but I thought you hated him?"

"We... we sort of kissed, by accident, in a fight once," Omi told him miserably. "He'd lost his powers and I had him pinned; he was trying to bite me. It was like... it was like there was this weird electricity between us, a sort of connection like nothing I've ever felt before. And ever since then, I haven't been able to get him out of my head."

Ken was chewing on his lower lip, absently stroking Omi's shoulder reassuringly. "It could be Schuldich," he finally suggested. "Playing with your head. It's just the sort of thing I could see him pulling..."

"No. Nagi says Schuldich swears that it wasn't him..." Omi stumbled to a halt and blushed again as he realized what he'd just admitted. "He's been having the same problem," he explained in a rush. "He cornered me in an alley a couple of weeks ago and demanded to know what I'd done to him." Some instinct of self-preservation kept him from mentioning the ice cream and arcade - he wasn't ready to admit to openly associating with his enemy just yet, not even to Ken. "I've tried everything I can think of to get rid of it - short of 'getting it out of our systems', which was his suggestion."

Ken sighed, and hugged him. "Sounds like you're infatuated with him," he told him frankly. "It's not too surprising, if you think about it. You're both the youngest ones on your teams, both physically the weakest, both hackers. You're always fighting each other; that would lead to a kind of fascination all by itself. And he IS very attractive. The best cure for an infatuation is either time, 'getting it out of your system' like he said, or... or finding a real relationship."

Omi closed his eyes in defeat and leaned his forehead against Ken's shoulder. "That's what I was afraid of," he murmured despairingly. "This attraction is so strong, I'm afraid I might eventually give in to it. That's... that's not how I want my first time to be!"

"Then I guess you'd better find someone else to fall in love with, Omittchi." There was an odd quality to Ken's voice that made him look up; the older boy was looking at him with an expression that was both intent and uncertain. Omi was suddenly breathless, and all too aware of how close he was to his friend's beautiful half-naked body.

"Ken?" he whispered, hands clutching at the well-muscled shoulders. His body was awakening for the third time that night, and he spared a brief thought to marvel at his own stamina.

"Omi," Ken breathed out in return, burying his face in Omi's neck and making him shiver at the feel of his breath on the sensitive skin there. "I... I've been thinking about you a lot, lately," he admitted quietly, his hands stroking along Omi's bare back. "Haven't been able to get my mind off you, in fact. Ever since that day with the Popsicle... god, Omi, you have no idea how erotic it is to watch you sucking away on one of those things! I swear if I didn't know better I'd think you did it on purpose." He sighed, and Omi gave a low moan. "I was going to wait until you turned eighteen to say anything... and I was afraid YOU would be disgusted."

"Oh, Ken..." he moaned again and pressed close to his friend's body, loving the sensual glide of skin against skin as their bare chests met and rubbed together. THIS was what he'd been wanting, needing - this feel of another hard, hot body against his, exciting him and bringing him to new heights of pleasure. How often had he daydreamed about doing this with Ken in the last two years? Surely this would make the gnawing ache inside him go away. "Help me forget him," he murmured, pleading for surcease from the thoughts that had been driving him to distraction. "Help me, Ken!"

Ken leaned down and captured his lips, kissing him long and thoroughly. His lips parted without him even thinking about it, and his tongue tangled eagerly with the other boy's. Ken pushed lightly on his back, drawing him closer until they were touching along the entire length of their bodies. Omi moaned again as their erections brushed together through the thin cotton pyjamas, breaking off the kiss to gasp for air.

"You're so sexy, Omi, you have no idea!" Ken whispered into his ear, tongue darting out to brush the delicate shell and making him shiver. "I always used to think you were cute, sweet... I must have been blind. Or crazy. Youji's got nothing on you." He trailed his kisses down past Omi's ear to his neck, biting lightly and blowing on the wet marks he left behind.

Omi ran his hands gently down Ken's chest, exploring. This felt so right, so good! He could stay here like this forever and be content, just enjoying the sensations evoked by their closeness.

Ken slid his hands down further, dipping below the waistband of Omi's pants and cupping the soft globes of his ass gently. Omi cried out as Ken pulled their bodies more tightly together, grinding their erections together in maddening little circles. His entire body was on fire and he was panting for air, and yet... suddenly something seemed off kilter, out of place. He shoved gently at Ken's shoulder, uncomfortable with the speed things were moving at. "Ken, wait."

Ken nuzzled at his neck, making him gasp and arch into the contact. "It's okay, Omi," he murmured in reply, still rocking their hips together. "Just relax, it's okay."

Omi tried to obey, wanting to recapture that feeling of rightness. It felt so good, he wanted it so much... except for that tiny part of his soul that was crying out again, the same part of him that had objected to Nagi's suggestion that they deal with the problem by getting it out of their systems. This wasn't right, this wasn't how it was supposed to go!

"Ken, please," he gasped out, trying unsuccessfully to pull away. Ken held tightly to him, dipping his head to bite at one of Omi's nipples. He moaned again at the jolt of pleasure/pain, and suddenly he was a little desperate.

"Ken!" he exclaimed, shaking his friend's shoulders. "Ken, stop! I... I'm not ready for this..."

Ken made a soothing noise, freeing one hand from his ass to stroke his quivering stomach muscles gently. "Relax, Omi, I won't hurt you," he said, his words muffled against Omi's heaving chest. "You're just nervous, it's natural. You know I'd never hurt you."

He trailed his hand further down, to grip at Omi's erection through his pants. Omi cried out and his hips thrust up of their own volition, aching for more of that rough touch. Omi told himself forcefully that Ken was right, he knew the older boy would never hurt him; it was just nerves. Ken pumped him slowly, rubbing his own erection against the outside of Omi's thigh, and Omi's eyes rolled back in his head from the pleasure.

Still, he couldn't rid himself of the tightness in his chest. However much his body was screaming for more, his mind cried out against it. An image of Nagi came to him, and he ridiculously felt as if he were betraying the other boy.

"No! Ken, stop!" he cried out, softly so the others wouldn't wake and hear them. Ken ignored him, biting painfully at his nipple and increasing the speed of his hand. Omi's body tensed, rapidly approaching a crest of pleasure that he desperately didn't want to reach. Not like this! Tears welled up in his eyes as he pleaded, "Please, don't, Ken I don't want... I... oh, gods!"

He sobbed as he reached orgasm despite his attempts to hold it off, crying for the pain of his soul and the pleasure of his body. Ken held him tightly, whispering gently in his ear. "See, it's good, nothing to be afraid of. It gets even better, I promise. Just relax, let it happen."

"No..." Omi turned his head to the side, avoiding the older boy's kisses. Ken just trailed his mouth down Omi's neck, his hands busily drawing the now-soaked pyjama bottoms off Omi's body. He whimpered, struggling uselessly to free himself from Ken's hard grip. "Please, Ken..."

"Shh, just relax," Ken admonished him, his voice tight with his own desire. "C'mon, Omi, you can't tell me it didn't feel good," he added, trailing one hand through the warm liquid pooled on the younger boy's flat stomach. "You want this as much as I do, I can tell."

"Noooo..." Omi sobbed again, hiccupping on his tears as Ken coated a finger in the sticky mess and trailed it down, beneath his still hard erection. He squirmed to try to get away from that intrusive finger, even as his body ached for it to be inside him. He felt like he was at war with himself, struggling against his own desires.

"Omi." Ken's voice had gone suddenly hard with warning, and his eyes glittered with as much anger as lust. "Don't be such a tease. It's just nerves. You want this - just look at how hard you still are. Relax, damn it!"

Ken was right - he was still so hard it hurt. Was he just being silly? Surely if he just relaxed and let it happen, it would be good. It had felt so wonderful even when he was protesting, maybe if he just forced himself to respond it would be okay...

His mind rebelled as he felt that questing finger slip inside him up to the first knuckle, and he reacted without thinking. His knee came up sharply, and he caught Ken by surprise. The older boy curled around his injured genitals, crying out at the unexpected pain and freeing Omi from his grasp. He scrambled off the bed, heedless of his nakedness, just wanting to get away. He heard Ken cursing quietly behind him as he fumbled the door open and staggered into the hallway.

He headed straight for the bathroom, since that was the only room in the building that had a lock on the door. Not that a simple lock would stop Ken if he was really determined, but Omi didn't think his friend would go that far. He shut the door behind him and flipped the latch, leaning against the solid wood and trembling wildly.

Had Ken really just almost raped him? No, no, Ken would never do that. Not to him, not to anyone! He'd led him on, he'd practically begged Ken to do it, pleading with him to help him forget. So he'd gotten what he'd asked for, it was his own fault. Shuddering in reaction, he stumbled over to the shower and turned it on full blast, not caring if the sound would wake Aya and Youji. He stepped under the water, letting the icy spray cool his still raging body as he leaned weakly against the tiled wall and cried.


|Part 1| |Part 2| |Part 3| |Part 4| |Part 5| |Part 6| |Part 7| |Part 8| |Part 9| |Epilogue|

Return to Weiss Kreuz Page

Return to the Main Index

Email Miko no da