Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership of Weiss Kreuz.
Warnings: Word play with cat-references, RanKen
Falling In Love
by Seph Lorraine
He was shivering.
It was his natural reaction to the chilled air of the basement; no doubt he would have let it be known if he consciously felt the cold. But at the moment he was laying on his side on the large leather sofa, a sleaveless black t-shirt clinging mildly to his smooth tanned form. The coolness of the couch's surface wasn't aiding his situation, either.
He sighed softly and shifted, but didn't open his eyes.
Aya frowned from his seat at the computer, there was something about that picture. Something endearing. Like small children chasing a terrified little kitten around the park.� He didn't like that at all.
His violet eyes narrowed at the other man.
Yes, this had to be a game of some sort. A game like the Fall-asleep-in-the-cold-room-and-see-if-Aya-does-something-mushy-and-sweet-like-cover-you-up-with-a-blanket-game, which Aya was not fond of. He had never participated in such a game, and didn't actually know if such a game existed, but if it did, and this was it, he didn't like it.
But, truthfully, Aya didn't really like anything.
Well, he liked Ken, but he wasn't about to tell anyone that.
Well except for Omi, whom swore he would keep the secret.
And promptly told Youji, who wanted to get involved.
Fuck.
And now they were locked in the basement until they hooked up, or until the chibi simply could stand no more time away from his computer and opened the door. Yet, Omi wasn't in tonight, was he? No. He was out with some schoolmates. Like a good little--
Mother fucker.�
Yet Ken was still shivering.
Aya watched the brunette with narrow eyes. He had been foolish to let that slip to the youngest Wei�, and it was a mistake he would never make again. Because he had already made it, and it's kind of difficult to fall in l- decide you like someone twice and tell someone twice and have that same surprised effect. But he would also never tell him any other secrets.
Like where he had hidden the younger boy's math book.
There was a glint in violet eyes, because sometimes the redhead could be kind of evil.
Ken was nice to look at though, shivering in his sleep or not. Aya vaguely wondered if he could make the brunette shiver in other ways, which was highly uncharacteristic of him. It was still a nice thought, though.
It was just when the younger man was talking, that it got to Aya. It was then that the redhead began to wonder what the fuck was wrong with him if he actually wanted to listen to this inane babble for the rest of his life.
Aya blinked.
Life? Whoa, he never said anything about being in love with the guy. He just thought he was nice to look at, and not that bad to listen to sometimes.
Ken could be really humourous, though, and he was the resident supply of hot-guy-with-no-shirt-on-sweating-and-running-around-with-a-soccer-ball almost daily. So, Ken definately had some very good points about him.
He also had nice eyes. Really soulful, deep brown eyes, that made you want to just stop and stare and see how far they took you. Carrying you out of reality-- out of your mind. He always felt like he was going through a tunnel when he stared too long into the brunette's eyes. A really long narrow tunnel, dark but thrilling as the orange wall-lights blurred past you in a streaming flourescent line.
Of course, he'd never actually stared into the brunette's eyes, but he imagined that it would feel like going through a tunnel.
Which wasn't necessarily good or bad, since Aya didn't necessarily like or dislike tunnels.
They're just tunnels, after all.
Nothing special about that.
Ken blinked blearily and began to move, waking up slowly. He raised his head lightly to look up the flight of stairs to the door and sighed, dropping back down to the couch with a groan. Still locked in with Sir Glares-a-lot. What a drag.
But it was time for an angsty and heart-wrenching analysation of his emotions, so he promptly became an optimist.�
Though Aya did have some good points, Ken decided. The man wasn't bad to look at. He had nice hair, and eyes.
Aya had beautiful eyes. Really chillingly beautiful amythest eyes. The kind that, when you stared to long, you could feel your insides freezing and shriviling into bits of frozen nothing.
Which is a pretty common feeling for everyone.
Of course, he hadn't actually ever stared into the other man's eyes, but he could always assume that it was like having your insides frozen into frozen-inside-nothing-particle-things.
Which wasn't necessarily good or bad, since it kind of tickled.
Yet, it might possibly lead to certain death.
Might possibly... certain... = oxymoron?
Aya was staring at him now with those eyes.
Ken paused to wonder at the strangeness of it all. He was locked in a freezing-cold basement with Aya, fell asleep, and woke up to find the guy staring at him. This had definately never happened to him before. He didn't even know why he was in here, only that earlier Youji was grinning like a the cat-that-was-about-to-catch-the-other-cats-and-lock-them-in-a-freezing-cold-basement-for-an-entire-day and had promptly locked him and Aya in a freezing cold basement for an entire day.
There was irony hidden in there somewhere; if only he could find it.
Something nagged at the brunette's thoughts, that he should understand whatever it was that was going on here. It was beginning to make him feel somewhat angry. Was Youji planning something upstairs that he really didn't want them to know about? Was he going to surprise them?
No, the lanky blond didn't do things like that, and if by some random act of nothing he did, he would have just sent them out of the building. Youji liked to do things the easy way.
Lazy arse.
Were they supposed to be doing something down here? Starting a war? Scrabble? Fixing the fucking heating-unit maybe?
No, if that were the case, Aya would be hissing at him for taking up his air and smelling weird, or something.
Unless they were really supposed to play Scrabble.
Of course the stoic redhead would be reluctant to start, then. He could imagine Aya having a difficult time with a game in which actual -words- were involved.
Maybe if the guy would stop staring, he could get up and find the board. Though, it might be kind of difficult to play since he was pretty sure most of the letter-blocks had disappeared when he and Omi had baked those cookies back in April.
He moved his gaze back to the silent older man but forgot everything as their eyes locked.�
Strangely, it was nothing like anyone had imagined; it didn't feel like going through a tunnel or having your insides frozen into nothing. It felt like walking over the narrow top of a wooden fence that was old and warped with age, the boards rotting beneath your unsteady feet. It was a stupid dare by some jerk you wasted your youth trying to show up-- yet you did it anyway; it was unsettling and dangerous. If one foul move was made you could fall--
And when the redhead laid his hands on his skin, it was nothing like what he had imagined. A wave of heat rushing colour to cold ivory skin. Thin wisps of smoke that coiled through the spine, they made their dance in agonizing flexibility, and arched up to increase that sweet tingling felt below.
And when they fell back on the couch, lost in something deeper than a gaze, it certainly wasn't what it had appeared on the surface. *
Panting lightly, and sweat glistening all over damp, flushed skin, in the dim light of a table-lamp, and the room didn't feel so cold anymore. Nothing felt very cold anymore. Only then was it obvious what it was.
It was like falling. Just stepping backwards without a glance behind you and heading straight towards the ground. And sometimes the impact hurt, and sometimes the ground expanded beneath you and bounced you back softly. Sometimes it was like landing on a cloud.
Yet falling is falling all the same.
Even if does soil a perfectly good leather couch.