Youji/Omi Arc 

 Fic # 1

 

by Dreamwalker

 

 

 

Youji was bored.

 

Taptaptaptap....

 

"See, Youji-kun? You just type in this code and then..."

 

Taptaptap.....

 

Very bored.

 

"...it'll come out like this--"

 

Taptaptaptap...

 

Youji watched as Omi stared at the monitor, drinking in the boy’s profile, noting the blue eyes and those fine brows which were drawn together in deliberation. Then his gaze traveled down to Omi's mouth which was half-open, the tip of a luscious pink tongue peeking out from the corner.  It was a recently developed habit which Omi does when absorbed in his work. And it was a habit that has been driving Youji crazy for weeks now.

 

Taptaptaptap…

 

“And you don’t have to worry about encoding it the next time around because--“

 

Youji mentally tuned out Omi’s monologue. The chatter was putting him to sleep. He didn’t even know why he agreed to let Omi teach him HTM—whatever that is, in the first place.

 

/*Ah, you know damn well why you’re here, Kudou,*/ a voice inside him spoke. /*You. Omi. Alone in a dim room.*/   

 

Everything would’ve been perfect if not for that damn computer! He wondered how Omi would react if he jumped him right then and there.

 

Youji sighed.

 

They were wasting a perfectly good Friday night holed up in the basement.

 

Tap…tap.

 

“You see now?”

 

Youji snapped to attention as Omi turned to look at him. He nodded his head automatically.

 

/Now what was that he just said? Ah, who cares./

 

"Yare, yare...I get it," he said aloud as he straightened up and fished for a pack of cigarettes in his jacket slung at the back of his seat. He pulled out a stick, lit it, and took a long drag. He felt a ripple of satisfaction as the nicotine filled his lungs. He exhaled and, as the smoke cleared away,  saw Omi pouting at him.

 

"Maa! Youji-kun, you weren't even listening!"

 

Youji arched an eyebrow. "'Course I was. I was looking at you the whole time," he said, giving Omi a slow wink as he leaned back on his chair. A red flush colored the boy's cheek.

 

"Never mind," the young Weiss said, turning back to the monitor. "I'll just show you again. Better pay attention, Youji-kun."

 

Youji's brain gave an anguished cry of protest.

 

/Shit. If the kid wasn’t so damn irresistible, I would’ve been long gone by now./

 

Taptaptap.....

 

"See here? Look, remember the tags--" Omi licked his lips as he peered at the monitor. The mere sight had Youji’s testosterone on overdrive.

 

The cry turned to a scream.

 

/Gotta get out…damn, I can’t leave without the kid…/

 

Taptaptaptaptataptaptap...

 

Then Youji stood so suddenly he nearly knocked down his chair.

 

“W-what is it, Youji-kun?” Omi asked looking up at him, blue eyes wide with surprise.

 

“C’mon, we’re getting out of here,” Youji said, grabbing his jacket and pulling Omi off his chair.

 

“Matte--!” Omi cried in protest. But Youji wasn’t listening. He placed a hand on Omi’s elbow and steered him towards the door.

 

“Oi, Ken! Omi and I are going out. Don’t wait up, alright?” Youji called out as they passed the kitchen where Ken was washing the dishes.

 

 “Matte, Youji-kun!” Omi cried as Youji dragged him out to the garage. “I haven’t even turned the computer off!”

 

“Screw the computer,” Youji said as he opened the door of his Roadster and slid into the driver’s seat.

 

“Well?” he asked Omi who was still standing out by the passenger side.

 

“Where are we going?” Omi asked suspiciously.

 

“To the Viper.”

 

Omi’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Hontou?” .

 

Youji grinned. “Yeah. Hop in.”

 

Omi was beside him in the flash.  

 

“I can’t believe you’re really bringing me there! Arigatou, Youji-kun! Wow, this is really--” Omi chattered energetically as Youji eased out into the street.

 

With Youji’s driving, the ride was a short one. When they got to the club, the entrance was teeming with people trying to get in.

 

As he looked at the crowd standing outside, Omi’s face was abruptly drawn in apprehension. “Youji-kun, are you sure I could get in? I don’t have a fake ID or anything. And I’m not even dressed.” He looked down at his sleeveless shirt and shorts suddenly feeling very self-conscious.

 

“Hey, don’t worry kid. Besides, you’re with me.” Omi looked at Youji who gave him a reassuring wink. Then his face broke into a grin. “Alright,” he said, his good mood restored.

 

Youji smiled inwardly and shook his head. /Always so trusting./

 

/*That’s why you can’t keep your hands off him, ne?*/ said a voice at the back of his mind.

 

/K’so!/ he growled, quelling the voice as he stepped out of the car.

 

He walked over to where Omi stood looking at the entrance.

 

“There are so many people,” Omi said in an awed voice, as he stared with big eyes.

 

“The place is always packed,” Youji said. He bent down a bit and whispered into the boy’s ear, “Just play along for a while, alright?” He took Omi’s hand in his own. Blue eyes met his questioningly for a moment before understanding dawned on them. He gave Omi’s hand a small squeeze before tugging at it, pulling Omi behind him as he pushed through the crowd.

 

When Youji got to the front, he raised a hand to the tuxedoed bouncer who gave him a brief nod. Omi lowered his eyes when he saw the man raise an eyebrow as he took in their clasped hands. The man gave him an appraising look and muttered something under his breath. Omi felt his blush reach up to the tips of his hair. He had always wanted to go to the Viper but he never thought he’d go there in this fashion. He looked up at Youji who was greeting someone by the door. Youji’s hand felt warm over his. /Well,/ he thought, /this isn’t too bad./ When Omi looked up again, the tuxedoed man was opening the door for them. He let out a sigh of relief. 

 

As they passed through the glass door, wall-pounding trance music instantly assaulted their ears. Youji’s hand tightened protectively over his as they threaded their way though the crush. The place was filled to the rafters. Omi jumped when he felt a hand brush against his rear. He twisted around but could not pinpoint the culprit. Youji looked back at him questioningly. Omi just smiled and shook his head.

 

They continued on until they reached the bar. The bartender nodded at Youji when he saw them approach. Youji yelled something in greeting which Omi didn’t catch because the music was too loud. He let go of Omi’s hand and the boy felt slightly disappointed.

 

There were no more empty stools so Omi just leaned against the bar, with his elbows on the countertop, and looked out into the dance floor. Youji signaled something to the bartender and  moments later, two tumblers filled with blue liquid slid across the bar and stopped at Omi’s elbow. Omi looked at the glasses. Youji took one and motioned for him to take the other.

 

“What’s this?” he shouted, his voice carried away by the music. Youji understood though and leaned forward until his lips grazed the tips of Omi’s ear.

 

“Don’t ask. Just drink it. You’ll get used to the taste after the first glass.” Omi felt a strange sensation run down his spine as Youji’s warm breath tickled his ear. Feeling suddenly flustered, he nodded and without thinking, downed the blue liquid in three gulps. The liquor was warm against his throat. For a second, Omi thought, /Well, that wasn’t too bad./ Then as the liquid left his mouth, the aftertaste hit him and he gagged. He burst into a fit of coughing, tears forming in his eyes. He felt Youji pounding his back and when he looked up, he saw the older Weiss laughing.

 

Youji leaned forward. “Don’t worry, that’s just for now,” he shouted over the music.

 

Omi made a face. “But that tasted horrible!” he cried out, his mouth watering as it tried to get rid of the clingy, medicine-like taste of the alcohol. But Youji was no longer looking at him. Omi followed his gaze which was towards the other side of the bar and saw a tall, striking brunette in a slinky outfit signaling Youji over.

 

Youji laid a hand on Omi’s shoulder. “Wait here for a while, alright?” he shouted in Omi’s ear. Then turning to the bartender, he pointed at Omi then disappeared into the crowd.

 

“Wait, Youji-kun!” Omi shouted after him but he was already gone. Feeling abandoned, Omi slump back against the bar. He pouted and turned to glare at the tall brunette but when he looked back she was already gone. Youji was also nowhere in sight.

 

He felt something cool against his arm. He looked and saw another glass of that blue liquor Youji made him drink. The bartender was pointing at it. Youji must have told the guy to keep an eye on him.

 

Omi harrumphed. /Who does he think he is? Leaving me behind THEN asking someone else to keep an eye on me! I can take care of myself! I kill people for a living, for crying out loud!/ He  grabbed the glass, held his breath, and downed the liquor. Then he grabbed a handful of peanuts from a nearby bowl and popped them all in his mouth.

 

/Bleech! I’m never drinking that stuff again,/ he thought, chewing furiously, as he pushed through the crowd and headed for the dance floor. 

 

As he walked, he realized he felt a bit--wobbly. /Darn. The drink couldn’t have gotten to me that fast now, could it?/ Omi thought as he began to move his body to the music.

 

The dance floor was so packed there was hardly enough room to dance in. The dancers were moving in a single mass and so without even trying, Omi found himself easily moving to the music.

 

Omi smiled as he began to get used to the feel of the bodies pressed against him. /Hey, this is kinda fun!/ he thought letting out a small giddy laugh. Then he caught himself. /Omi, get a grip! You’re not drunk!/

 

He felt someone press up behind him. Remembering the hand that brushed against him earlier,  he turned--ready to punch the lights out of the pervert--when he saw that it was Youji.

 

“Youji-kun!” he shouted, a lazy grin spreading on his face. His face was beginning to feel kinda numb.

 

Youji leaned close to him and Omi felt his breath against his ear again. “I thought I told you to stay by the bar.”

 

Omi pouted. Or tried to pout.  His reflexes were slowing. Giving up, he just threw an arm around Youji’s neck and shouted, “Let’s dance!”

 

Youji sighed. He could see that Omi was already tipsy. The boy was practically draped over him.

 

/I should’ve just let him drink beer instead./

 

“Dance, Youji-kun!” Omi yelled in his ear, shaking him a bit. Youji rolled his eyes and began to sway to the pounding music. Then to his surprise, Omi let go of him, pushing away from him and began to dance. Really dance.

 

Youji’s own dancing slowed to a halt as he stared at Omi, oblivious to the jostling he was getting from the other dancers and unable to tear his eyes away from the from the vision in front of him. It set his blood on fire.

 

To see Omi grinding and twisting was not what he had in mind when he brought him there. Well, at least not exactly.

 

Omi stopped for a moment, as he was hit by a sudden wave of dizziness. Then his eyes landed on Youji who was just standing and doing nothing. Regaining his equilibrium, he stepped closer to Youji. “Yoj-kun! Dance!”  He bumped his hips playfully against Youji’s and began to dance again.

 

The music changed and the throng of dancers seemed to have doubled in volume. Youji was pressed against a still dancing Omi, their hips grinding together.

 

/Shimatta!/ Youji thought, panicking at the prospect of his body reacting against his will and taking Omi right there and then. Not willing to take risks, he grabbed Omi by the hand and hauled him off the dance floor.

 

He could hear Omi’s protests rising above the music but he didn’t stop until they were out the door and into the street. The night air felt cool and refreshing, a stark contrast to the stuffy, smoke-filled atmosphere inside the club.

 

“Whadja do tha’ fo’?” Omi demanded. He stopped, hearing his speech slur. Then a slow smile spread on his face.

 

Youji shot him a puzzled look. “What are you smiling about?”

 

“Yoj’-kun! ‘M I drunk?”  

 

Youji frowned. “Almost, kid. It’ll be official when you pass out after puking your guts out.” He sighed, fished the keys out of his pocket and laid a hand on Omi’s shoulder. “C’mon, Omi.”

 

He didn’t even know why he brought the boy there in the first place. He hadn’t really planned on anything--though the prospect of a slow seduction had been lurking at the back of his head. But the boy had already gotten himself tipsy before he could even begin. The alcohol would’ve been good for loosening Omi up but to take advantage of the current situation…well, that wasn’t his style.

 

/Damn. I should have just given him beer!/ he thought again.

 

“Where’ we goin’?” Omi asked as Youji guided him back to the car and buckled him up on his seat.

 

“We’re going for coffee. Gotta sober you up before I take you home or else Ken’s gonna have a conniption.”  

 

Omi made a face. “Wha’? Back ‘lready? Don’ wanna go back yet. Please, Yoj-kun?” He leaned towards Youji, placing a hand on the older man’s thigh.

 

Youji gripped the steering wheel tight and cast a nervous glance at Omi’s hand.

 

“Eh…alright. What ever you want to do, Mi-chan. But no more dancing, ne?”

 

That produced the right effect. Omi drew back and crossed his arms on his chest. “Maa! Tol’ you not to call me M’-chan!” Omi’s lower lip protruded in a pout. Youji felt and overwhelming urge to grab Omi by the shoulders and suckle those sweet lips. He turned the ignition key instead.

“So, where to?”

 

“Ca’ we just stay ‘ere?”

 

Visions of gyrating hips and soft male curves flashed in Youji’s head. “No.”

 

“’K…” Omi said leaning back on the seat and placing a finger thoughtfully against his lips. “I wanna drink su’more.”

 

“Drink?! You can’t even say ‘drink’ straight anymore!”

 

“Can too! Drinkdrinkdrinkdrinkdrink!”

 

Youji rolled his eyes. “Yare...” Ken would definitely have a fit if he ever found out. He glanced at Omi who was busy fiddling with the stereo with clumsy fingers. Cute. /Who could’ve said no?/ he thought defensively. 

 

He pulled into a gas station. “Stay here,” he said and got out.

 

Omi  leaned back further in his seat and watched Youji enter the 24-hour convenience store. He laid an arm across his stomach feeling the pleasant buzz in his head. Omi giggled, then stopped. /No wonder so many people like drinking,/ he thought. He sighed and stared at the car ceiling. It felt weird to move around. His body felt sluggish. He giggled again despite feeling extremely silly.

 

“What’s so funny?” asked Youji as he slid back into his seat, deposited two six-packs on Omi’s lap and carefully placed a styrofoam cup of coffee on the cup holder by the dashboard.

 

Omi’s eyes narrowed when he saw the coffee cup. “I thought we’re gonna drink!”

 

“We are. See that,” Youji said pointing to the cans of beer.

 

Omi frowned. “But I meant in a bar! And what’s with the coffee?” he demanded.

 

Youji sighed inwardly. The kid’s still got enough sense in him. He thought maybe he could talk Omi out of it. But the boy could be stubborn when he chose to. “Don’t worry,” he said reassuringly, “where we’re going’s much better,”

 

Omi looked down at the six-pack on his lap. “Ok,” the boy said.

 

/Good boy, Omi,/ Youji thought, relieved, as drove up to the highway. He pressed a button by his side, opening the windows halfway. The air rushed in, ruffling their hair. Youji glanced at his side and smiled when he saw Omi hopelessly trying to put his tousled locks into order.

 

They drove in silence for about fifteen minutes, zipping through the nearly empty road. Then Omi caught a glimpse of the sea.

 

“Where are we going, Youji-kun?” Omi asked. To his surprise, he can talk straight now. He didn’t think alcohol could have such a brief effect on the system. He always thought that if you drink, you’d end up sleeping away half of the day like Youji usually does.

 

“You’ll see,” was Youji’s cryptic reply.

 

“Hey, Youji-kun,” Omi said softly, almost shyly, “I think I’m ok now.”

 

Youji laughed. “I figured you would. How many did you drink anyway?”

 

“Two glasses.”

 

Youji nodded. “The stuff kicks in fast but goes away just as quickly.”

 

The side of the highway gave way to a long stretch of white sand.

 

“Wow,” Omi said, leaning out the window. Youji slowed down, turned at a junction and they were driving up the beach. Youji stopped the car several meters from the water’s edge.

 

“Wow, this place is beautiful!” Omi said as he scrambled out of the car, hugging the cans of beer to his chest. He stood looking out into the water. The moon wasn’t full but a good enough amount of light bathed its surface.

 

Youji came up behind him. “Yeah, it sure is.”

 

Omi turned and looked up at Youji in wonder. “I didn’t think you’d be the type to know about this kind of place, Youji-kun.”

 

“Well, I have to know. Women just love these kinds of places.”

 

“Oh,” Omi said, crestfallen.

 

“But of course, I haven’t had the chance to bring anyone here yet,” Youji added.

 

“Oh,” Omi said again, this time with a touch of relief in his voice.  

 

Youji cast Omi a sideward glance. /Ah. I got you now, kid,/ he said to himself, a small smile forming on his lips. With that wide-eyed innocent look, Omi was usually pretty hard to read. But that one was definitely a slip.

 

“Well, come on!” said Omi as he walked up the sand dunes and down to the flat section of the beach, near the water.

 

Youji raised an eyebrow questioningly.

 

“I thought we were going to drink?” Omi said looking back at him. Youji followed the boy, saying, “And I thought you said you’re fine now. Why would you want to drink again?”

 

Omi sat down on the dry sand. “Because it’s fun,” he answered simply as he opened a can of beer.

 

Youji frowned. “Hey wait, Omi--“

 

Omi looked up and smiled at him. “I’m just kidding. Don’t worry, you haven’t turned me into an alcoholic just yet, Youji-kun.”

 

Still frowning, Youji settled down beside him. His mouth suddenly felt dry as he watched Omi throw back his head and take a few gulps from the can. Omi’s neck formed a smooth arc and the sight of that small Adam’s apple bobbing up and down was strangely enticing. Almost erotic.

 

/K’so! I knew this was going to happen,/ Youji thought and for the second time that night, he felt himself chickening out.

 

/What the hell do you want, Kudou? First you brought him to the club and when you had your chance you backed out. And now you brought him here and--/ He cast another glance at Omi. A trickle of beer had run down the side of Omi’s mouth and down his neck, disappearing inside the collar of his shirt. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind of the lewd images forming there.

 

“Ah,” he heard Omi sigh and his eyes widened as Omi set down the now empty can of beer.

 

“You’re through with that already?!”

 

Omi nodded and open another can.

 

“Omi, are you sure you’re--“

 

“I’m fine, Youji-kun,” Omi said giving Youji another smile.

 

“Alright…” said Youji reluctantly. He then dragged his eyes towards the water, watching the waves lap at the sand.

 

Waves lapping at the sand….

 

“Shit,” Youji muttered. Even that was enough to make him think dirty thoughts.

 

Omi glanced at Youji when he heard the older blond mutter something inaudible. The beer tasted slightly bitter, but it was better than what Youji had made him drink at the club. He took another can and offered it to Youji. “Drinking alone is no fun, Youji-kun,” he said.

 

Youji turned and stared at the can as if Omi was handing him a decapitated head instead of beer.

 

/No. I’m not drinking. Not here where I could easily…/ His gaze fell on Omi. /Shit. I’m not drinking./  

 

“What’s the matter Youji-kun? I thought you like drinking?” Omi asked extremely puzzled by Youji’s behavior.

 

“No thanks, kid,” Youji said.

 

Omi pouted and gave Youji one of those please-please-pretty-please looks which annoys the hell out of him because he could never say no.

 

Youji let out a long sigh. /You’re gonna regret this, Kudou./ “Alright.”

 

Omi beamed, set down his own can, and proceeded to open Youji’s for him.

 

“Oops!” the boy said as the can hissed when he pulled the tab. Frothy liquid gushed out slowly, running over the rim and pouring over his hand. “Must have shaken it up,” Omi said.

 

Youji gave a mental groan as he watched the boy lick the foam off his hand and take a few sips from the can before handing it to him. 

 

“Here you go.”

 

Youji took it carefully, taking care not to let their fingertips brush together. “Thanks,” he said, taking a sip and trying not to think about how Omi drank from the exact same spot.

 

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, each one absorbed in his own thoughts.

 

Omi settled into a more comfortable position. He leaned back on his elbows and looked at the moon. He waited impatiently for that buzz to return. He needed it.

 

He looked at Youji from the corner of his eye and tried to still the hammering in his chest. /Drink, Omi,/ he told himself. /If you’re ever going do it, you have to do it now./ Omi had been waiting for a chance like this. He even prayed for it. And now that he has it, he can’t let it slip away. He took big gulps of beer and soon was setting down an empty can beside the first one.

 

He reached for a third.

 

Youji was still staring out into the sea, a thoughtful expression on his face.

 

Omi took a long gulp as he played out different scenarios in his head. Occasionally, he would blush, drinking some more. Then taking a peek at Youji who was still spaced out, he reached for his fourth can of beer. 

 

Omi drank, the fourth can not tasting as bad as the first three. It went down more smoothly this time and he hardly tasted it at all.

 

As he reached out to open a fifth, Youji grabbed his hand and snatched the can away.

 

“Hey, sport. Slow down. Take it easy.”

 

“I’m fine--“ Omi began to say but Youji took one look at the empty cans by Omi’s side and said, “Damn! You’ve finished that much already?”

 

Omi nodded. “But see? I’m fine, Youji-kun. I don’t even feel strange.”

 

Youji shook his head. “If Ken finds out—“

 

“He won’t,” Omi cut in as he took back the can from Youji. He turned his head forward, looking back into the sea as he opened the can and took a sip.

 

Youji frowned, watching Omi drink. Then he noticed the boy shiver slightly. /Of course!/ Youji thought, wanting to slap himself in the forehead as he glanced at Omi’s bare shoulders. He was  wearing a jacket so he didn’t notice how cool the night air was.

 

“Here, Omi,” he said as he shrugged off his jacket.

 

“Oh no, Youji-kun, I’m fine,” Omi said, shaking his head and refusing to take it.

 

“Being stubborn, ne?” Youji said as he put the jacket on again. He grabbed Omi by the arm and tugged gently. “Come here.”

 

Omi looked at him and blinked. /Is he saying…/

 

/*Don’t think. Just do it, baka!*/ a small voice inside him whispered furiously. Omi nodded.

 

He stood up and resettled between Youji’s legs. Youji put his arms around Omi’s waist and pulled the boy closer. He then put his arms over Omi’s to ward off the chilly breeze.  

 

“Is that ok?” Youji asked, trying to make his voice sound as normal as possible. Omi snuggled closer before saying, “Yes.”

 

/Shit,/ Youji thought as he inhaled the sweet scent of Omi’s hair. He braced himself against the inevitable…

 

Omi had started leaning back against Youji, when he felt ‘it’ jab at the small of his back. Omi froze. For a split second, he cannot form a coherent thought. Then his mental gears started working and his body resumed its course. He bit back a smile, all doubts having just been cleared from his mind.

 

Settling back against Youji’s chest, Omi let out a small sigh. As he did so, he felt that new yet familiar sensation: that pleasant buzz. It had started

 

Now was the time.

 

Taking a huge breath, Omi twisted around slowly so that he was looking up at Youji. 

 

“Youji-kun--“

 

His words were cut off as Youji pressed a finger against his lips.

 

“Shhh…I know…” Youji whispered. “No need to say it….”

 

Omi nodded, suddenly feeling a surge on his chest as those green orbs came closer.

 

And closer.

 

/God, it’s really happening,/ Omi thought with wonder as he closed his eyes, tilting his head slightly in anticipation of the kiss.

 

Youji felt his last inch of reserve break away when he saw Omi close his eyes. He knew, the moment Omi leaned back against him, what was going to happen that night. Wrapping his arms around Omi’s waist and pulling him close, his lips found what they had been seeking all night.

 

/Ah,/ he thought as he felt Omi’s mouth open readily against his. /This is more like it./

 

Then a brief thought occurred to him: has Omi ever kissed anyone before?

 

It sure seemed like it.

 

There was nothing hesitant about the way the boy responded as his tongue snaked inside the warm cavern of his mouth, tasting and exploring.

 

Youji felt Omi shift closer to him and the longing that had been trapped inside him the whole night was suddenly unleashed. Moaning into Omi’s mouth, he pulled the boy into his lap, coaxing Omi to settle on top of him.

 

Omi understood and without breaking the deepening kiss, turned and melded his body over Youji’s. They settled back on the sand, their hips and legs forming a tight, comfortable fit.

 

/Shit,/ Youji thought as Omi’s tongue warred with his. /The kid knows what he’s doing./ He suddenly broke off the kiss, panting heavily and looking up at Omi who’s face hovered over his.

 

“Where’d you learn to kiss like that?” Youji gasped out, his voice harsh with arousal.

 

Omi, who was also short of breath, merely smiled. He bent down and whispered in Youji’s ear, “Wouldn’t you like to know, Youji-kun. There’s more. Would you like me to show you?” His voice was teasing and playful, like a child’s, which Youji found frustrating yet at the same time, terribly arousing. /So the little angel’s not what he seems./

 

He growled in mock annoyance and pulled Omi down for another kiss. Waves of passion flowed through his veins. He had wanted this for so long. His hands moved from where it held Omi by the waist and began to explore, cupping the boy’s rear and pulling him tighter against him, their pelvises grinding together. Omi moaned and not being able to help himself any longer, Youji placed an arm across Omi’s back and rolled the boy over so that he was now on top.

 

Sand now clung to their clothes, skin and hair but they didn’t care. Youji detached his lips from Omi’s mouth and began to lick a path from the chin down to the boy’s smooth neck as his hands slipped under Omi’s shirt. Youji kissed and suckled the tender flesh on Omi’s neck as his fingers found what they were seeking.

 

Omi gasped when he felt expert fingers tease his sensitive buds. He squirmed beneath Youji’s ministrations, his hips arching when he felt the other man’s desire press against his thigh. Then he suddenly felt the cool night air caress the bare skin of his torso. Youji had taken off his shirt without him noticing.

 

He drew in a long, shuddering breath when he felt Youji’s lips kiss a fiery trail down his chest and into his navel. But there was a change. Omi tried moving but found his reflexes were slow. He moved his head up to look down at Youji and his eyes fell on the cans of beer.

 

Omi groaned. /Oh,no/

 

Taking this as a different sign, Youji went back to kissing his neck, the older man’s larger frame covering his smaller body. Omi felt one hand go past the band of his shorts and began to stroke him through the material of his boxers.

 

Amidst the mind-blowing pleasure, Omi felt an odd stirring in his stomach.

 

He had enough sense to know it wasn’t because of Youji’s expert stroking.

 

“Iie…yamete…” Omi managed to say though his voice came out strained.

 

Youji nuzzled the side of his neck below the ear, “I won’t stop if you don’t want me to, Omi-chan,” he whispered huskily.

 

“No...Youji-kun, I mean it…stop…stop!” Omi cried, struggling under Youji’s weight.

 

Youji stopped immediately and Omi pushed him off as he scrambled to his feet. But his balance was off and he fell to his knees. And before he could help it, Omi found himself retching and heaving the contents of his stomach on the sand.

 

Youji, who had been taken by surprise at first, now wrapped an arm around Omi’s shoulders, patting him gently on the back. He sighed inwardly as he felt his arousal begin to dwindle. 

 

Finally, Omi sat back, sniffling. He looked up, teary-eyed, at Youji and said miserably, “I threw up.”

 

Looking at Omi’s expression, Youji had to laugh. He pulled Omi to him, tucked the boy’s head under his chin and ruffled the boy’s hair with his fingers saying, “That’s alright, Omi-chan. Are you okay now?”

 

Omi winced at the name. /Great. I blew it./ “Gomen, Youji-kun. I didn’t mean to ruin it for you.”

 

Youji looked down at him and frowned. “What are you saying? You didn’t ruin anything for me,” Youji said, clamping down at the disappointment he felt.

 

The illusion had been shattered.

 

Instead of the luscious, sexy young boy he had been just about ready to devour minutes ago, luminous blue eyes looked up at him with a heart-melting expression of despair.

 

It reminded him of a lost puppy.

 

/Well, better that it happened when it did. Or else I might have done something the boy might regret in the morning,/ he thought as he handed Omi his shirt and stood up, brushing off the sand from his clothes and hair. He then began to pick up the cans of beer and looked back at Omi who was straightening his clothes with his head bent down, not meeting his gaze.

 

/Still such a kid. What were you thinking, Kudou?/ But then he remembered their kiss and Omi saying:

 

//“Wouldn’t you like to know, Youji-kun. There’s more. Would you like me to show you?”//

 

Youji shook his head. He just couldn’t figure Omi out. A picture of innocence one moment and a livewire the next. /Shit. I need to get this out of my system./

 

Omi stood up. “I’m really sorry, Youji-kun,” the boy said softly and without waiting for an answer began to walk away.

 

Youji watched as Omi climb up the sand dunes and head for the car.

 

/Maybe this is just what I needed,/ he thought as he followed Omi. 

 

After putting the cans at the back and sliding into his seat, he glanced over at Omi who was already seated and looking out the window, facing away from him.

 

“Hey, don’t feel too bad about it. It happens,” he said. Omi just nodded and didn’t say anything.

 

They rode back in silence.

 

When Youji pulled into the garage, he looked over at Omi and saw the boy was asleep. He thought about waking Omi but decided against it.

 

Walking over to the passenger side, he opened the door and gently unbuckled the seatbelt. Then he slowly slid his arms around the boy and carefully lifted him up. Omi wasn’t a deadweight but he wasn’t too light either. He was just right.

 

He opened the backdoor, thankful that Ken didn’t use the deadbolts to lock the door so that he didn’t have to wake him or Aya up to get inside. Aya might let this pass but Ken was another matter. 

 

As he walked through the halls and up the stairs, Omi’s head titled back slightly, fitting against the crook of his shoulder. Youji sighed. /Just right./

 

He entered Omi’s room and gently laid the boy down on his bed. Then he took off Omi’s shoes and drew the blanket over him.

 

He stood for some time in the dim room, just looking down at Omi. Then he bent down to brush the boy’s bangs from his forehead and dropped a chaste kiss on his brow.

 

/Still a boy./

 

“I’m sorry too, kid. Maybe this is for the best. Oyasumi.”

 

 ****************

 

 

Next Fic

Back to main page

 

Go to DW's FY page