Beyond the Thunder

Lightning lit the room with eerie blue-white clarity as Ken paused in his living room, shading his eyes against the flare. Less than a second later, thunder boomed across the heavens, loud enough to rattle loose objects on the tables and shelves.

"Christ, that was close," the ex-soccer player muttered to himself, continuing on his way to his bedroom. The entire apartment was pitch-black, as the power had gone out only moments after he'd come through the door. He navigated his way through the clutter of his hallway with the ease born of familiarity, hand coming to rest on the bedroom doorknob just as another flash lit the sky.

The air in the room was close and hot as he opened the door, mirroring the conditions in the rest of the apartment. He grimaced as he quickly stripped down to his boxers. Thankfully the rain hadn't started until they'd made their way back from the mission, but his clothes were still soaked; sweat beaded up more quickly than water from a fountain in this kind of humidity. He hated doing missions in this kind of weather. Well, at least the storm would clear the air a little for tomorrow.

"We've GOT to get air conditioning," he exclaimed aloud, throwing himself on top of his bed. It was far too muggy to crawl under even the light top sheet. "It's not like Kritiker can't afford it. And we can't be expected to perform at a hundred percent if we're dying of heat!"

Lightning followed almost instantly by thunder cracked outside his window, and he jumped a little. This was far and away the worst storm they'd had this year, and they'd had some really fantastic ones. It had come up out of nowhere, and didn't look like it was planning on leaving any time soon.

He frowned, shifting over onto his back. As always during storms of late, there was a nagging sense that something was missing, incomplete. He chewed absently on his thumbnail, a bad habit he'd been trying to break for years. Casting about the room, he searched for a clue to his discomfort.

His gaze finally came to rest on the small laptop on his desk. "Omi," he said aloud, eyes widening as he sat upright. "That's what's missing. Omi's not here."

For the last two years, ever since he'd joined Weiss, Omi had appeared at his doorstep without fail the moment a thunderstorm appeared on the horizon. The first few times he'd been blushing and embarrassed, inventing reasons why he'd wanted to visit in such horrible weather. It didn't take Ken long to realize the true reason, however - the youngest member of Weiss was absolutely terrified of thunderstorms, and desperately didn't want to admit it to anyone.

Ken had wisely never said anything to his younger friend about it; after all, phobias were by their very nature unreasonable. Eventually they'd settled into a comfortable pattern - the storm would come up, Omi would appear on his doorstep, Ken would make them both hot chocolate, and they'd cuddle together in his bed, talking until the storm dissipated and Omi was able to sleep. It had brought them closer together, giving them a tie that went beyond working together or even killing together. Omi trusted Ken enough to come to him when he was scared, and that was something Ken treasured.

But, he was surprised to realize now, Omi hadn't shown up for the last several storms. It had been months since their last late-night cuddle session, and he found that he was missing the easy companionship of the boy who was his best friend. He was even more surprised that he hadn't noticed the strange absence until now.

"Maybe he finally got past Youji's guard?" he wondered aloud. A good half of their 'pillow-talk', as they'd laughingly referred to it, had been speculations over the two older members of Weiss. Ken had slipped once and mentioned that his relationship with his best friend Kase had gone a little beyond just 'friendship'; to which Omi had opened up with the revelation that he had found himself far more attracted to boys than to the swarms of girls that surrounded them on a daily basis. It had been easy for them to talk about it after that, and Ken had found himself grateful to have someone he could talk to freely.

Omi had expressed more than a little attraction for Weiss' resident playboy, and had been continually frustrated by Youji's refusal to treat him as anything but a child. Ken was of the private opinion that Youji's constant references to Omi's age were more to convince himself than anyone else. Could it be that Youji had finally broken down? Had Omi found someone else to help him ease his terror on stormy nights?

Ken was a little shocked to realize how much the thought hurt. In fact, the emotion he was feeling could really only be termed 'jealousy'. He hadn't realized just how much Omi's trust in him had touched him, made him feel special and needed. The idea of Omi cuddled up to Youji - hell, to anyone other than him - and whispering of his fears and dreams late into the night squeezed his heart painfully.

"But why wouldn't he tell me?" Ken was certain that if Omi had made progress in breaking down the lanky playboy's guard, he would have told his best friend. After all, didn't they share everything? And he certainly hadn't noticed any differences in the way the two were acting. So why...?

Ken sighed, realizing that he wasn't going to get to sleep with the questions plaguing him. There was only one thing for it... he'd go over to Omi's. If he WAS interrupting something, he'd be embarrassed as all hell, but if he didn't do it, he'd be eaten alive by curiosity.

He swung his legs back over the side of his bed, reaching for a clean t-shirt. He debated putting his jeans back on, then gave it up as a bad idea. His boxers were passable as shorts, especially in the dark. And it was just too damn hot to wear anything else.

He made his way back through his apartment without any major mishaps, though he did trip over the shoes he'd kicked off earlier. "Teach me not to put stuff away right away," he muttered, shoving the front door open and slipping out onto the balcony that connected the Weiss members' individual apartments.

Omi's was right next to his, and he made the short trip as quickly as possible. Rain was lashing down in sheets, and he was soaked through by the time he made it across the ten feet of balcony between their doors. Feeling like a drowned rat, he rang the doorbell.

He couldn't hear anything over the now-constant rumble of thunder, so he couldn't be sure if anyone was coming to the door or not. He was just about to ring the bell again when he heard the faint click of the lock, and the door opened.

Omi stood staring out at him, dressed only in the loose, light cotton pajama bottoms he favoured. There was no sign of the top half of the pjs... too hot for it, Ken imagined. Wide blue eyes gleamed in the reflected light of the lightning, and his knuckles were white where he clung to the door. "Ken-kun! What on earth?"

There was no sign of anyone else in the apartment, but that didn't mean there wasn't someone in the bedroom, out of sight. Ken blushed a little, grateful the darkness would hide it. "Yo, Omi. Am I catching you at a bad time?"

"No. Uh, come in! Goodness, you're soaking wet, Ken-kun! Whatever possessed you to go outside in this weather?" Ken ducked into the apartment, and the door was quickly closed behind him. They stood inches apart in the entryway, yet Ken could barely make out the outline of his friend's figure in the darkness. The only sound for a long moment was their breathing - his slow and regular, Omi's fast and a little ragged - and the dripping of water hitting the floor.

"I was worried about you," he admitted, figuring he might as well come to the point.

"Worried about me? Why?" A particularly loud crack of thunder sounded, and Omi jumped and squeaked, flinging himself instinctively into his friend's sheltering arms. Ken couldn't help but chuckle.

"That's why, baka. I realized that you haven't been coming over when it rains any more. How come?"

"I... uh..." Ken could feel Omi's blush through the t-shirt. "I wanted to get over it. This stupid phobia, I mean. I figured maybe if I toughed it out, it would go away."

"Is it working?" Ken didn't want to admit to himself how VERY relieved he was that Omi hadn't been going to someone else for comfort.

Omi jumped again as another loud crack sounded, and muttered wryly, "What do you think?"

Ken shook his head and tightened his embrace reassuringly. "Baka. Well, I'm here now, and I'd really rather not go back out into that, so why don't you let yourself have a break for one storm?"

Omi seemed to struggle with himself for a long moment, then finally gave in, relaxing into Ken's arms. "Okay," he agreed, his own arms slipping up to wrap around Ken's waist.

"I've missed talking to you," Ken added, burying his face in the smaller boy's hair. He smelled of sandalwood and violets from the shampoo and soap that he used, as well as a light musky scent that was all Omi's own. "I hadn't realized just how long it's been. I feel bad that I didn't realize sooner."

"That's okay, Ken-kun," Omi smiled up at him, white teeth flashing in the darkness. "You've had a lot on your mind, what with Kase and Yuriko and all."

"That's no excuse," Ken returned. "You're my best friend, after all. And that was months ago now." He sighed, and allowed himself to simply enjoy being with his friend again, before pulling away slightly. "Come on. Not that I mind hugging you, but the entryway's not the best place to do it, and my legs are gonna get tired soon."

Omi laughed and pulled the rest of the way out of his arms, leading the way into the main room. There was more light here, from candles scattered across the various flat surfaces of the room. In the hallway that led to the bedroom and bathroom, Ken could just make out a dark-looking bundle on the floor. "What's that?" he asked, gesturing at the pile.

"Uh... my mattress and sheets," Omi admitted, flushing. "I always sleep in the hall when it rains."

Ken frowned. "Is your roof leaking? You should have said something!"

Omi shook his head. "No. There's no windows in the hall."

Ken's eyes widened with understanding. "Oh. I see. You never minded the window in my room. Or at least, you never said anything about it."

Omi shrugged gracefully, padding towards the kitchen. "I had you to protect me," he replied simply, and Ken flushed with pleasure. "I'll make us some hot chocolate, since we're in my place tonight. Why don't you get dry? You can wear my extra pajama pants. In the top drawer of my dresser."

Ken wandered down the hall, stepping over the pile of bedding, and made his way to Omi's room. It was sparsely decorated, the main feature the high-tech computer that dominated the desk. The bed frame looked a little odd with the mattress missing, and he chuckled. Rummaging through the drawers, he came up with a towel and the promised pajamas, and quickly shed his dripping clothes. Drying off, he slid into the cotton pjs, and padded back out of the room. Hanging the wet clothes over the shower rail in the bathroom, he made his way back to the main room.

Omi was still in the kitchen, so Ken settled down on the worn couch, waiting. He remembered when Omi had lugged the ugly piece of furniture home - Youji had nearly had a fit. It really was hideous, a horrible shade of yellow and green plaid, and worn badly. It had to be at least third- or fourth-hand, and Omi certainly could afford something better with the money he made from Weiss. But you had only to sit down on it to realize why Omi insisted on keeping it - it was probably the most comfortable piece of furniture Ken had ever encountered.

Omi returned quickly, two mugs in his hands, and he handed one to Ken as he settled into the couch beside him. Ken raised his eyebrows. "Getting fancy, aren't we?" he teased, scooping up a finger-full of whip cream off the top and licking it off.

Omi flushed again, looking away quickly. "I bought it to go with some apples, but the apples ran out before the whip cream did. So I thought I'd use it up."

"'S good," Ken proclaimed around his second finger-full. "I'll have to make sure to buy some next time there's supposed to be rain."

"H-hai." Omi stared fixedly at his mug, sipping at it every now and then. Glancing over, Ken saw that the white cream had left a mustache on Omi's upper lip. Chuckling, he leaned over and wiped it away with his thumb.

"Kawaii," he teased as he did so, and Omi blushed harder. Briefly debating what to do with the excess cream, he finally shrugged and sucked it off his thumb. No sense letting it go to waste, after all.

"S-suman!" Omi abruptly stuttered, all but jumping off the couch. He plopped his mug down on the coffee table and made his way towards the kitchen. "I, ah... I think I left the stove on. Be right back." He disappeared through the doorway, and Ken stared after him, puzzled.

"He sure is acting weird tonight," he murmured under his breath. Two or three minutes went by before Omi re-emerged from the kitchen.

"All fixed," he said, his voice oddly breathy. He jumped as thunder rang out again. "I... I dropped a mug into the sink, and it shattered. Had to clean it up." Ken raised one eyebrow - he hadn't heard anything break. The thunder wasn't THAT loud.

Whatever was bothering his friend, he decided not to push the issue. If Omi wanted to tell him, he would, and pushing would only drive him away. He took a long gulp of hot chocolate, liking the cream off his upper lip. Omi tripped over something on the carpet, but righted himself quickly.

"I'm okay," He said to Ken's concerned noise. He laughed, but it sounded forced. "You know how I am during thunderstorms."

"Ah," Ken replied simply, watching as Omi picked up his mug and settled down again - on the floor this time, across the coffee table. There was definitely something strange going on, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out what it might be.

They finished the rest of their chocolate in companionable silence, and Omi slowly relaxed despite the storm outside. Finally, Ken stood, and gathered the two empty mugs. "I'll clean these up, since you made it," he offered, heading for the kitchen.

"Shall I move the bedding back into my room?" Omi asked. Ken shrugged.

"Whatever. Doesn't seem worth the effort. I don't mind sleeping in the hall. We'll move it back in the morning." He rinsed the mugs quickly in the sink, noting a lack of any broken pieces or fragments of ceramic. Surely Omi would have missed a few, in the dark.

When he came back out, Omi had already made himself comfortable in the nest of blankets, leaving room for Ken to slide in beside him. Ken climbed in, pulling the light sheet up to his waist and nuzzling into the pillows. Omi's mattress was hard and solid, as they both preferred, but he had dozens of soft, fluffy feather pillows. Ken grinned at him in the darkness.

"You're a glutton for comfort, aren't you?" He teased. "That awful couch, and now all these pillows..."

Omi flushed and swatted at him. "What's wrong with that? Why shouldn't I be comfortable in my own home? It's not like anyone but the three of you ever see that couch anyway - for that matter, I can't remember the last time Youji-kun or Aya-kun were in my apartment."

"No reason," Ken replied, shifting a bit. "I just think it's funny. This many feather pillows is something I'd expect from Youji, not you."

Omi sniffed. "At least I don't have silk sheets," he replied.

Ken's eyes widened. "No. Does he really? I mean, we always used to say he must but... how do you know?"

Omi chuckled. "He asked me to pick up his dry cleaning for him while I did deliveries a few days ago. I've been teasing him about it ever since."

Ken laughed as well. "That was silly of him. He had to know he'd catch flak for that."

"I think he had forgotten that his sheets were part of the laundry," Omi replied.

"So I take it you haven't made any progress with him?" Ken asked. There was an odd hitch in Omi's breath, before he answered.

"Nope," the younger boy shook his head. "No luck there. I've about given up on him anyway. You had any progress with Aya-kun?"

Ken made a face. "Yeah, right. It'll be a cold day in hell before I get through to him." He gave a slightly wistful sigh. "Too bad, though... he really is gorgeous, ne?"

"Ah." Omi nodded. "In a dangerous sort of way - like a panther. Beautiful and deadly."

"Yeah." Ken grinned. "Know who else is utterly gorgeous, that I'd never even TRY for?"

"Who?" Omi asked, curious.

"Schuldich."

"Ken-kun!" Ken could see white gleaming in the darkness as Omi's eyes widened. "Are you crazy?"

"What?" Ken defended himself with a chuckle. "He IS. Tell me you don't find him attractive."

"Aside from the fact that he's an arrogant bastard who's responsible for my sister's death, you mean?" Omi retorted bitterly. Ken drew in a sharp breath.

"Damn. Omi... I'm sorry. I... I wasn't thinking..." He reached out to lay a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder. He couldn't believe he'd been so tactless... Ouka's death had been only a few weeks before.

Omi sighed. "No, it's okay. And you're right - objectively, he is very attractive. I just happen to have too much against him to appreciate it."

"Boy, I sure know how to stick my foot in my mouth, don't I?" Ken said wryly. "Shall I see if I can get the other one in, too?"

Omi giggled despite himself at the image. "It's okay, Ken-kun, really. Though it might be interesting to see you try." They both laughed.

There was a sudden flash of lightning so bright it hurt Ken's eyes, simultaneous with a clap of thunder so loud it shook the floor beneath them. Omi shrieked and flung himself into Ken's arms, panting with terror against his chest. Ken tightened his arms instinctively, one hand rubbing Omi's head in a soothing gesture.

"Shhh, Omi, it's okay. It's okay, it can't hurt you. Shhh." Omi trembled against him as the thunder rolled away, face buried in Ken's chest. "Kami-sama, that must have hit the building. Good thing we've got a lightning rod."

"Good thing I unplugged my computers," Omi returned breathily. "That kind of power spike can blow out a monitor."

Ken nodded, glad that Omi was coherent enough to talk. The last time lightning had actually struck the building, he'd been rigid with terror for a good ten minutes. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Omi gave a long sigh, but made no move to pull away from him. "Can I... just stay here for a minute?"

Ken chuckled, and tightened the hug briefly. "As long as you like, baka. That's why I'm here."

"At least now I know WHY I'm so afraid of storms," Omi said, snuggling up against him a little more.

"Oh?" This was news to Ken. "When did you figure that out?"

"When I got some of my memories back. There was a thunderstorm the night I was kidnapped... I guess my subconscious connected the sound and sight of thunder and lightning with the terror I felt then."

"No wonder," Ken agreed, and rubbed one hand up and down Omi's back to ease the tense muscles. Surprisingly, Omi just got more tense. "Hey, are you sure you're okay? Your back is tight enough to snap!"

"I'm fine," Omi muttered in reply, voice gone breathy again. He arched his back a little against Ken's fingers, an involuntary movement in response to the light massage. "I'm just... a little tense."

"A little?" Ken parroted, shifting so he was leaning over his friend. "Here, turn on your stomach. I'll give you a massage."

Omi's eyes widened. "That's okay, Ken-kun, I'm fine. Really!"

Ken snorted. "Since when do you turn down a massage offer? Roll over, baka!" Omi complied, shifting so he was on his stomach, face pillowed on his crossed arms. Ken straddled his thighs, setting to work on loosening his friend's tight muscles.

Omi sighed and relaxed into the touch a bit, fairly purring as Ken's nimble fingers caressed the knots away. Ken couldn't help but smirk. Omi's back was incredibly sensitive, as they'd both discovered the first time he'd offered to give his friend a massage. Ten minutes of work would leave him as limp as jello, unable to move a muscle.

He dug into the now-lax muscles, kneading expertly at the soft flesh. His fingers trailed down lower, to attack Omi's lower back, where most of his stress usually rested. Sure enough, the muscles there were strung tight as well. Omi gave a little moan, half-stifled against the pillows, and relaxed a little more.

Ken shifted further down Omi's thighs, giving himself space to work, as he continued to follow the trail of knots down the younger boy's spine towards his tailbone. There had never been much modesty between them - they were too familiar with each other for that. So he didn't hesitate to start working on the soft flesh of his friend's ass.

Omi jerked beneath him and tensed up again, all his work undone in the space of a second. Wide blue eyes glanced back at him over one creamy shoulder. "K-ken-kun," he stuttered, voice tight. "That's good. Uh, thank you! Th-that's enough."

Ken frowned and sat up, but didn't move from his seat on Omi's thighs. "What's with you tonight, Omi? I know thunderstorms make you skittish, but this is silly. We've given each other full-body massages before."

He swore he could feel the heat of Omi's blush rising up from his body. "N-nan demo nai," the younger assassin answered, burying his face back in his hands. His shoulders were trembling - with what emotion, Ken wasn't entirely sure.

Ken shifted off him and tugged on his shoulder, trying to turn him so he could see his face. "Omi... look at me, will you?" Omi resisted the movement, and he pulled harder, sending him rolling right over onto his back.

Omi's eyes flew open wide. "Ken-kun!" He protested hoarsely. He sat up quickly and pulled his knees up to his chest, but not before Ken saw the erection he'd been trying to hide.

"Omi?" Ken's eyes were equally wide, as he stared at his best friend in astonishment. Omi's face was beet red, and he looked like he was ready to cry.

"Is THIS why you've been avoiding coming over during storms?" Ken asked in a sudden burst of insight. Omi nodded miserably. "But... why?"

Lower lip trembling, Omi lowered his gaze to stare at his feet in seeming fascination. "Because," he murmured softly. "You like Aya-kun. I... I didn't want to mess up our friendship!" A single tear escaped his lashes, sliding down over his cheek and leaving a wet trail to mark its passing. He sniffled, choking on a sob.

Ken was absolutely floored. He'd had no idea that Omi was attracted to him in that way - he'd certainly never shown signs of it before. "Baka. I have a CRUSH on Aya. That doesn't mean..." he trailed off, not certain what he meant to say. "Ah, hell. Omi, you're my best friend. The closest friend I've EVER had, including Kase. Did you really think it would mess up our friendship if I found out you were attracted to me?"

"It can't help but change things," Omi replied, sniffling again. He hugged his legs tightly, still keeping his gaze fixed firmly on his toes. "And... as long as I never said anything..." he bit his lip, and shook his head. "I could pretend that you might love me back," he whispered, almost too softly to hear.

A thousand thoughts were whirling through Ken's mind, too fast to catch on to one and really examine it. The remembered feeling of falling asleep with Omi cuddled up to him; waking to the same sensation, feeling warmly loved; the hurt that had pierced his heart when he'd thought of Omi going to Youji for comfort; the sweet feeling of having him in his arms earlier tonight; and most of all, the mixture of hunger and happiness that was rising in his chest to overtake him now.

"I love you," he whispered back, a little shocked to hear himself say it. He turned the phrase around and around in his mind, deciding that he liked the sound of it. So he said it again. "I love you, Omi. I do. I can't believe I didn't realize what the things I was feeling meant. I guess it just kind of snuck up on me."

Omi was staring at him now, tears and hope mingling in his eyes. "Hontou ni?" he asked, voice shaking. "Ken-kun... you love me, too?"

"Always." He answered simply, gathering his friend - now his lover - into his arms and holding him tight. "I always have, and I always will. Now that I know, I'll never let you go. I promise."

"Ken!" Omi buried his face in Ken's shoulder and threw his arms around his neck. "Ken, I love you. So much! I was so afraid..."

"Hush, now," Ken instructed, lifting his chin with gentle fingers and planting a soft kiss on those sweet lips. "You don't have to be afraid any more. I'll be here to protect you - from thunderstorms or anything else." He kissed him again, deeper this time, and was gratified to feel Omi responding to his touch.

"I'll never be afraid again," Omi whispered against his lips, hand running over his chest hungrily. "So long as you're there to hold me, Ken. Never be lonely again."

Ken answered him with another kiss, letting his tongue probe past the silken lips, to meet Omi's own. They tangled together for a long moment, neither wanting to come up for air until the last possible second. Eager hands explored the firm flesh exposed by their lack of shirts, rubbing and caressing every inch they could reach. Omi was soft beneath his fingers, just a hint of firmness beneath the creamy skin hinting at the muscles Ken knew were there. Omi looked the least developed of the four of them, but his soft outer appearance hid solid steel beneath.

"Ken..." Omi gasped, fingers sliding down to the waistband of Ken's shorts. "Ken, I want to touch you..."

"Omi," Ken groaned in response, arching against the questing fingers. "Omi, slow down, sweetheart. We've got all night."

"But I want to touch you now," was the petulant answer. "I don't want to wait. I've already waited for so long. Oh, Ken..."

Ken gasped as Omi lowered his head to bite at the column of his neck, one hand rising to clutch in the soft locks of the younger boy's hair. Omi trailed lips and teeth down to his collarbone, suckling gently at the hollow at the base of his neck, before continuing down over the flat planes of his chest. "Whatever you want," he managed, eyes squeezed tightly shut from the pleasure. His free hand - the one that wasn't occupied holding Omi's head as close to him as humanly possible - drifted down over Omi's back once more.

Omi arched back against the touch, making a muffled noise in his throat that had to be just about the sexiest sound Ken had ever heard in his life. Ken moaned and released his grip on Omi's hair to run both hands over his back, delighting in the choked purring noise Omi was making.

"Omi, oh, god, you're so incredibly sexy! I can't believe I didn't see it before..." Ken wasn't even aware of what he was murmuring, he just had to vocalize the incredible feelings he was experiencing. "Omi, Omi, I love you, don't stop, don't... AH!"

Omi had dipped his fingers below Ken's waistband, the tips just caressing the sensitive flesh he found there. Ken moaned and fell back against the mattress, hands on Omi's shoulders bringing the other boy with him. Omi sprawled out over his chest, hands eagerly shoving the pajama bottoms down over his hips. Ken raised his hips to help out, hissing as his erection was exposed to the warm air.

Omi hovered above him, just staring for a long moment. Ken shifted beneath him, rapidly becoming uncomfortable. "What?" He finally asked, and Omi raised large, shining eyes to meet his gaze.

"Beautiful," he murmured, and Ken blushed. "I've pictured this so many times... my dreams didn't even come close." Ken blushed more, flattered and embarrassed.

"You're wearing too much," He replied, and tugged at Omi's pajamas. "Off."

"Hai, hai!" Omi squirmed out of the restricting clothing, baring himself to Ken's gaze. The soccer player drew in a sharp breath.

"You think I'M beautiful?" he sighed, running hands over Omi's hips and thighs. The younger boy squirmed beneath his touch, eyes half-closed. "You're perfect. Just perfect." He tugged, and Omi stretched out over him, both boys moaning in unison as their lengths ground together.

"We fit so well," Omi murmured, rocking against him a little. Ken groaned and thrust up against him, his hips jerking without his conscious control.

"Omi..." he drew out the name like a prayer, hands clutching at his lover's back. Omi squirmed downwards.

"I want to taste you, Ken," he breathed, and Ken sucked in a gulp of air, heat coiling in his groin in anticipation. Omi licked his lips and lowered his head, tongue darting out to sweep along the weeping slit in Ken's erection. Ken moaned and forced himself to hold still.

"You taste good," Omi said, licking again. He fit his rosebud lips over the very tip, and Ken cried out. Omi was eating him like a popsicle, nibbling at the top and licking up and down the sides.

"God... Omi... where'd you learn to do that?" he wondered aloud. He'd had some experience in his past, but he knew Omi had never been with anyone before.

Omi raised his head, drawing a sound of protest from Ken. He smirked slightly. "On the internet. Where else?"

Ken rolled his eyes. "So Youji was right!" He teased. "You do spend all your time looking at porn on the internet!"

"Half right," Omi corrected him. "HE thinks I'm looking at straight porn." He giggled, and went back to work on driving Ken slowly insane.

Ken gasped and couldn't stop himself from arching into that sweet mouth, feeling the tension building in his gut. Omi may have been inexperienced, but he'd obviously paid attention to the things he'd seen and read on the net, because what he was doing was absolutely incredible.

Omi didn't try to take him all in, knowing his limits. Instead, he concentrated on the first few inches of Ken's erection, clutching the base in one tight hand, the other drawing designs on his thighs. Ken writhed beneath him as his tongue swept up along underside, breath sobbing in his lungs. He clutched at Omi's shoulders, hauling upwards. "Omi... Omi, stop. Please. Oh, god."

Omi came up eyes wide, looking concerned. "Ken? Did I do something wrong?"

Ken gave a little laugh, cradling Omi close against him. "Hell, no. Something right. Too right. I don't want to come without you." Omi's eyes widened and he blushed, looking pleased.

Ken flipped them over with one sharp movement, ending up straddling Omi's thighs again, from the front this time. He grinned down at his friend. Leaning in, he whispered in Omi's ear, "I'm gonna make you scream, Omittchi." Omi shivered as he licked at the delicate shell of his ear, then blew on the wet spot.

"Ohhhhh... it won't take much, if it all feels that good," Omi replied, shifting beneath him. "Ken... oh, please. Touch me. I've dreamed of this..."

"No more dreaming," Ken answered, nibbling his way down to Omi's chest, just as he had done earlier. "This is the real thing, koi." Holding Omi's hips to the floor, he ground his erection against the smaller boy's, jerking his hips in tight little circles. They both moaned, clutching at each other and kissing frantically.

"Ken... oh god, Ken, I want you inside me. Please. I want you so bad!" Tears were flowing over Omi's cheeks again, of joy and pleasure this time. Ken hesitated.

"Omi... do you know what you're asking?" Omi nodded, raking his hands up Ken's back. Ken hissed and arched back, bringing their pelvises into even tighter contact. "Ah! Omi... we don't have anything. I don't want to hurt you."

"The... massage oil..." Omi gasped out, barely coherent. "In my desk drawer."

Ken was on his feet in an instant, staring down at the angel spread out over the sheet below him for a long moment. "I'll be right back," he promised huskily, before dashing for the door.

He rummaged frantically through the desk drawer, amazed at the sheer amount of junk contained within it. For a boy who was normally so organized, Omi had really made a mess of his drawers.

Finally his fingers closed over the bottle, and he breathed a silent prayer asking for control. Omi had him so worked up that he was already close to the edge, and he desperately didn't want to leave his lover unsatisfied. Plus, it was Omi's first, and that meant he absolutely had to make it special for him.

Making his way back to the hall, he paused in the doorway, eyes wide. Omi was still sprawled out over the mattress, one hand pinching at his nipples, the other moving slowly over his erection as he moaned quietly. He thought it had to be the most erotic thing he'd ever seen.

"Couldn't wait, koi?" He teased, sliding onto the mattress next to his lover. Omi's eyes flew open, full of consternation.

"Ken! Ah, gomen! I... I couldn't..." he blushed, yanking his hand away to clutch at the sheets.

"It's okay, Omittchi," Ken murmured, replacing Omi's hand with his own. The younger boy moaned and arched into the touch, eyes falling shut once more. "It looked sexy."

"H-hontou ni?" Omi gasped, writhing. "You think I look sexy?"

"Baka!" Ken chided him, flipping open the cap on the bottle with his other hand. "You're just about the sexiest thing I've ever seen."

"Sexier than Youji-kun?" Omi wanted to know, watching from beneath his lashes as Ken poured some of the oil in his palm, coating one finger in it. He hissed as the finger slid slowly inside him, stretching the tight passageway.

"Sexier than Youji," Ken confirmed, working the digit against the tight ring of muscle that impeded it. Sliding it out, he wiped it off and re-oiled it, adding a second as he slid them back inside. "Feel good?"

"Oh, god, yes!" Omi threw his head back, panting a little. "Sexier than Aya-kun?" He asked again, and Ken realized that it was a sort of game.

"Yes, sexier than Aya," he answered, curving his fingers up a little. Omi mewed and thrust back against his hand, silently asking for more.

"Sexier than Schuldich?"

Ken laughed, withdrawing his fingers and reinserting them with a third added. "Much. And much nicer, too." Omi cried out as his fingertips found the spot he'd been searching for, pressing against the spongy piece of flesh with firm pressure.

"Oh, Ken! Ken, please, I need you! Please, I can't wait any more!" Omi squirmed against his hand, clutching at his shoulders and begging. "Please!"

"You only have to ask," Ken replied softly, withdrawing his fingers and shifting to cover the smaller boy's body with his own. He positioned himself and slid forward slowly, gritting his teeth against the incredible sensations. With Kase he'd always been uke, but he found he was enjoying taking his little angel immensely.

"Ken! Oh, Ken! More please more! I need... oh! Ken!" Omi gave a high-pitched whine as Ken seated himself firmly inside the tight channel, pausing and supporting himself above the younger boy on trembling arms as he waited for the slight pain to fade from Omi's face as he adjusted.

It didn't take long - Ken had prepared him well, and the pleasure overwhelmed the pain quickly. "Ken," Omi gasped breathlessly. "MOVE!"

Ken obeyed happily, pulling back a little and thrusting in again. Omi lifted his hips to match the motion, and they both moaned. "God, Omi, you're so tight! It feels so good..."

"You feel so good, Ken," Omi returned, hands raking down his back. "So good inside me... so full, so hot, so much! Faster, harder, please more..."

Ken sped up a bit, drawing out a bit farther and thrusting a bit harder each time. They settled into a rhythm, slowly building speed and momentum as their passion spiraled upwards. "Omi, I love you," Ken cried as he neared his peak.

"Love you, love you, Ken, so good, so much, so hard, so full, so good, Keeeeen!" Omi's voice cracked as he tensed beneath him, sticky fluid pulsing in hot spurts over their stomachs. His back was arched like a bow, inner muscles clamping down on Ken's length and making the passage so tight it was almost painful. Two more quick thrusts, and Ken stiffened against him, his own climax overtaking him. Crying out his lover's name, Ken let release take him, pumping his seed into Omi's tight little body with abandon.

"Ken..." Omi's voice was little more than a ragged whisper as he murmured against Ken's throat, wrapping his arms around the older boy's shaking body and pulling him close.

"Omi... I'm too heavy..." Ken protested weakly, trembling.

"Shh. You're not too heavy." Omi stroked his back. "God, Ken... that was incredible. You're incredible."

He nuzzled his face into the hollow between Omi's neck and shoulder, shifting his body to one side despite Omi's reassurances. They both gasped again as he slid out of Omi's body, and instantly Ken found himself missing the connection. "You're the incredible one," he replied, nuzzling gently. Omi's hand came up to stroke at his hair.

They were silent for a long time, basking in the afterglow and in each others presence. Finally Omi spoke up, a little hesitantly. "So... what now?"

"What now?" Ken repeated, glancing up to look in his eyes. His expression was curiously open and vulnerable, both trusting and uncertain at the same time.

"What happens between us?" Omi clarified. He sounded more than a little shy. "Can we do this again? And what are we going to tell the others?"

Ken considered it, despite his first instinct to say that he'd shout it from the rooftops if Omi wanted him to. "Of course we can do this again, baka. I love you. Now that I've got you, I'm not letting you go. Or weren't you listening before?" Omi blushed. "As for the rest... we'll tell Aya and Youji. I've got no problems with it, and it's not fair of us to hide things that might change the way the group works. If they don't like it... too bad. But... we probably shouldn't tell anyone else. As Youji keeps pointing out, you ARE still underage, and I could get in a lot of trouble for this."

Omi clutched at him. "I don't want to get you in trouble... maybe we shouldn't..."

Ken hushed him with a quick kiss. "Baka. I told you, I'm not giving you up for anything. We'll just have to keep it quiet until you turn eighteen, okay? It's not all that far away."

Omi nodded, snuggling against him. "Okay. I love you, Ken. I never thought I'd ever get to hold you like this."

"Anytime, koi. Anytime," Ken replied, hugging him tightly. "I'm yours, forever and always." As they drifted off to sleep, tangled together, the now-gentle sound of rain on the roof washed over them, soothing their way to the land of dreams.

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