Warnings: I'd have to say the usual shonen-ai warning.

Disclaimer: I own none of this; please don't sue. You'd have to wait in line for quite a while as I am not kidding when I say I have only five cents to my name. -.-; I have an addiction to feed, dammit!

The leather clothes that he had just been divested of less then one minute ago hit the carpeted floor with a soft plop. Aya leaned back against the wooden door, breathing hard. He swallowed and tried to will away the blush that suffused his face. His attempt, however, went to hell when he remembered exactly why he was blushing. Aya rubbed his hands up and down his arms, firmly telling himself to forget everything, especially the blonde just outside the door. Yohji was just teasing him, trying to get a rise out of him; he'd never be interested in Aya.

Aya decided that the best thing for him to do was to seek the oblivion of sleep. Hopefully it would be dark and dreamless, devoid of his usual nightmares. Missions usually exhausted him enough that he simply didn't have the strength to torture himself subconsciously. With the tempting offer of rest being dangled in front of him like a carrot, Aya quickly stripped the rest of the leather, throwing it on the floor like a discarded rag. He considered leaving the hateful clothes there but, unfortunately, he was overridden by his conscience that screamed at him to fold them neatly instead of leaving a mess.

When his borrowed garments were carefully stored on a nearby chair (and Akurei's bracelet safely locked away), Aya fairly threw himself onto the bed. Immediately, he pulled the covers up, closed his eyes, and willed himself to sleep. When, exactly, though, his dreams began to have a blonde-haired visitor, he couldn't tell.

Sunlight was cruel, Yohji decided. It always came peeking in past the shades at a god-awful hour and never failed to wake him up. Sometimes he'd simply roll over and pull the blankets over his head. One was able to get more sleep that way but it still didn't change the fact that the sun had ruined his perfect slumber.

As he walked down the hallway stretching out his still tired limbs, Yohji seriously considered investing in a couple more sets of drapes. He quickly ruled it out, however, when he realized that even if he did, Ken and Omi (hateful people that simply loved to get up early) would never let him enjoy them. On the rare days that Yohji actually managed to escape the sun's evil clutches, one of the two would come wake him up anyways. Omi would sweetly cajole from behind the door whereas Ken would pound on said door until Yohji decided to save the poor piece of wood before it broke. Omi, Yohji could ignore, but Ken was a different matter. Since it's near impossible to sleep when someone is determined to destroy the house if need be, Yohji had to beg extra minutes. This was often done while he was still asleep. Matter-of-fact, he was becoming quite good at it. Yohji supposed that it could be worse; he could have Aya waking him up everyday...Or was that a good thing? It was nice to see the redhead's face in the morning but, if Yohji did see it, usually a good glimpse of the floor followed soon after as Aya kicked him out of bed. Yohji was undecided on that one.

Speaking of the redhead...Yohji reached the end of the hall and stood there for a minute, leaning against the wall and eyeing Aya who sat at the table, reading the newspaper, a cup of tea untouched beside him. Aya gave him a sharp glare for his staring, but Yohji brushed it off with a lazy smile. He sauntered over to the fresh-brewed coffee (courtesy of Ken), just "accidentally" brushing up against Aya in the process. Aya started and glared suspiciously at Yohji before returning his attention back to the paper, giving it an irritated snap. Yohji's smile grew bigger.

It had been a full week since their last mission; seven entire days for Yohji to come to terms with his attraction and figure out a solution. Or, depending on your point of view, it was seven whole nights of dreams to give inspiration that he couldn't use. To Yohji, his goal was clear. Unfortunately, Aya wasn't cooperating. Yohji had found out, much to his frustration, that the redhead was extremely skittish. The moment he even got within miles of his objective, Aya would turn tail and run. Instead, Yohji had to settle for little "accidental" touches, slowly letting Aya become accustomed to them before he could move in for the kill. Luckily, Aya was still clueless about Yohji's motive; he apparently thought that the blonde was just trying to bother him. Where he got the patience for such tactics, however, Yohji had no idea. Normally, the confessed playboy tried to steer clear of such high-maintenance lovers like Aya clearly was.

Coffee in hand, Yohji strolled back over to the table and leaned over Aya's shoulder. "Whatcha readin'?" He tilted in farther so that when Aya turned his head, they almost collided noses.

Aya gave him an annoyed glance but caved in. "There's been a series of murders, recently. Quite like the previous target's except for a few differences."

"Like?"

"Their genitals have never been found." Aya was obviously going for shock value and it almost worked. Yohji turned a little green but he still didn't back off, instead he played along gamely.

"Kinda heavy stuff to be reading so early in the morning, don'tcha think?" Aya was apparently done with the subject, as he said nothing. "Are you that bored that you're actually looking for new missions?" Yohji moved his head slightly so he could whisper in Aya's ear. "I bet I could find something for you to do."

If looks could kill, Yohji would have been six feet under, dead and buried. "The shop needs to be opened," Aya said icily. Yohji mentally slapped himself upside the head; he'd been doing so well but he just had to let that comment slip by. He abruptly pulled up from his bent position and stalked out the door, muttering under his breath.

Aya hated this new game of Yohji's--the latest in a long string of attempts to piss him off, he was sure. He was outmatched and outclassed--something he wasn't used to--and both of them knew it. Aya needed to figure out a way to get Yohji to stop his not so innocent teasing before Aya did something they'd both regret. Like give in. Briefly, Aya toyed with the idea of simply using his katana to settle things but ultimately he decided he couldn't, however tempting it might sound. Aya set down the paper that he had ceased reading ever since Yohji had entered the room, the wheels turning in his head.

...Was it a really bad thing that said wheels only focused on Yohji?

"White hunters of the light, hunt the dark beasts--" Yadda-yadda-yadda, Yohji finished silently. What was up with that quote anyway? Did Kritaker just think it was really cool or what? Could they just give out the missions without saying that every time? He'd heard it so many times, that even now, three hours after they'd watched the video, the quote was still bouncing around in his head.

That brought him around to looking out at Aya, possibly the only person who subscribed to that load of shit. The redhead was currently roaming the streets in his tight leather again, the exact same outfit that had made Yohji sit up and take notice a week earlier. Yohji couldn't stand it; twice in the same month and he still couldn't touch. Aya was on a mission and when Aya was on a mission, ice would be more receptive to Yohji's all too friendly advances. It was just too bad that he had to wear the clothes only to lure out the target.

The team's latest target was a copycat of their previous one, or at least that had been what they'd been told. Yohji found that he couldn't even remember the previous target's name. He'd never bothered to learn his successor's, either. All evil was faceless in the dark and all that. The only ones that stuck out were Schwartz and Takatori and that was only because Weiß saw said evil ones so much.

"Target in sight," Omi whispered from his vantage point on top of a nearby building. Yohji firmly pulled his roaming thoughts in and nodded to where Ken was barely concealed. Ken nodded back, pushing his butnuks out halfway. All that was left was for Aya to lead the target into range.

In the end, though, the target proved too impatient, pulling Aya into a closer alleyway. As he saw the flash of the switchblade, Yohji swore, throwing himself into gear. He knew Aya was unarmed; the redhead couldn't have hid anything under those clothes.

When Yohji reached the alley, he was in for a surprise. Aya and the target were at a standstill, the switchblade at Aya's throat and a long, slender needle at the target's. Yohji felt Ken skid to a stop behind him, heard the former soccer player's claws come unsheathed. The target glanced over at the two arriving assassins and snarled, pushing the switchblade closer and drawing blood. Aya responded by pressing the needle harder against the man's neck. Dead silence reined as all the killers paused, thinking of what to do next.

A dart suddenly flew out of the night, spearing the target's shoulder. The target reared back in pain, the knife dropping from his suddenly numb fingers. Aya saw his opportunity and took it, driving the needle home. The target lashed out at Aya, throwing the assassin back against the wall with a well-placed knee and viciously smacking him to the ground. Yohji readied his wire but it was Ken who finished the kill, rushing in and slicing the target up the middle.

As the target fell, Aya staggered to his feet only to fall back against the wall, leaning against it for support. Yohji moved to his side, checking Aya over. His hands fluttered over Aya's face and down his shoulders looking for injuries. "Don't touch me," Aya growled weakly.

"Fine thing to say when you're covered in blood," Yohji retorted. "Now hold still and let me see." Yohji heard Ken and Omi take off to secure the area, making sure the killer hadn't had any accomplices waiting in the shadows, but he didn't take much note of it. Aya was more important at the moment.

Aya tried to push Yohji's hands away. "I'm fine."

Yohji's mouth firmed into a hard line. "Yeah, I suppose you are." Most of the blood was the former target's; Aya was simply stunned and he'd be fine in a few minutes. Aya glared up at Yohji with his kohl-smeared, amethyst eyes. It was the eyes that did Youji in.

He suddenly grabbed Aya, molding his lips to the redhead's. Aya's eyes flew open and his hands flew to Yohji's head in an attempt to push him away but Yohji felt Aya melt into him, the redhead's body accepting the invasion even as his mind screamed no. Yohji threw all of his not inconsiderable skill into the kiss, trying to make Aya want it. And Aya did, if only for a moment. After that, his pulling on Yohji's hair became too much for the older man to bear, eventually forcing him to break the lip lock.

Aya forcefully pushed Yohji away, stumbling to the side in an attempt to bolt. Youji stopped him with a quick grab for his arm. "Aya--" Aya wheeled around, prepared to fight to the death, retribution promised in his eyes. Startled, Yohji let him go but before Aya could flee, Yohji pushed forward, crowding the younger assassin against the wall. "Run if you have to; I know where to find you." Aya gave him a strangely terrified look and ran. Yohji waited until Aya was out of sight before he sagged against the wall, banging his head against the brick. "I'm such a stupid bastard..." he whispered. In that one moment, however sweet it had been, he'd probably scared Aya away permanently. "Shit, shit, shit!"

Exactly how Aya got home, Yohji didn't know, as the redhead never came back to the car. When they reached the house that they currently occupied, however, Aya's door was already closed. It was outside that door that Yohji stood now, wondering what he thought to achieve here. He'd knocked five times without an answer and Omi had tried just before him. Aya was obviously running scared. Either that or he was sharpening his katana...

Yohji decided to take his chances. He didn't know what to say or how to phrase it; he just knew that he had to say something. The doorknob was cold to the touch as Yohji reached out and turned it. Silently, he entered the room.

Yohji stood near the doorway in the darkened room, letting his eyes adjust to the lack of light. At first, he didn't see Aya, but then he noticed the redhead glaring at him from the bed. Yohji took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts, wondering where to start. Eventually he came to the conclusion that it didn't really matter, so he jumped right to middle of the whole mess. "I have dreams about you, you know." Aya looked stunned but he remained silent. "Yeah, they're pretty sweet." Yohji gave a little laugh. "...In my own way, I sleep with you every night." Aya's eyes flickered from one side of the room to the other, looking for possible escape routes; Yohji smiled bitterly. "They won't come true, though. I mean, look how you reacted at just one kiss...."

Yohji walked over and sat on the bed beside Aya who skittered away to the far corner, watching him warily with the same eyes that Yohji had dreamt about for a solid week. Yohji bowed his head and scrubbed at his face. "God, I'm really pathetic, you know that? Here I am, Kudou Yohji--a man who could have any woman he chose--and I had to fall for you. Not only are you a man, but you won't have anything to do with me. I've given you far more patience than I've ever given anyone, even Asuka." He had to choke that name out; it tried to stick in his throat. "And as far as I know, you only tolerate my presence because you have to; you don't even like me." Youji chuckled bitterly. "What's really sad, is here I am--again--trying to convince you once more to give me a chance..." He looked over at Aya. "And you're just going to kick me out...I'm like a puppy aren't I? One you can't stand because he's too damn clingy." Aya didn't bother to disagree; he simply stayed in his corner, icy mask firmly in place. Yohji sighed. There really was no hope. He didn't know why he'd even bothered to come here in the first place. "Aya...I-I...I'll go now."

Yohji waited a minute before he closed the door behind him. What he was waiting for, he didn't know, only that it never came. The door, quietly separated them with out a word from either. Yohji sighed, weakly thudding his head back against the wall. He needed a cigarette...badly. And that bottle of liquor he had stashed in his room. No, that wasn't it. What he really needed was to forget.

A bottle of whiskey stared up at him from the floor, but Yohji found that he couldn't drink it. Sure he could get drunk, forget everything, and have a really good time, but that didn't change the fact that Aya would be there in the morning, still as cold and unreachable as ever. So lost in his misery was he, he didn't even hear the door open and the soft pad of footsteps. He only noticed the room's other occupant when the moonlight from the window suddenly eclipsed. Yohji glanced up to see Aya standing by the window, looking out. "Aya?"

At first Aya didn't respond, but then, ever so slowly, he turned around. "Yohji." Dammit, Yohji cursed, why was he here? It was bad enough that the man had to haunt his room in the dream world, but did he have to do it in the waking one as well? "You're a liar."

"What?"

Aya started wandering the room, examining the contents. He picked up a box and opened the lid, looking inside. "And I can never tell when you're joking..." He set the box down. "Or when you're serious..." Aya walked back over to Yohji and knelt in front of him, curiously staring at the liquor on the floor. "Tell me...did you really mean all those things you said?"

Yohji was getting pissed. First Aya had ignored him, then he had invaded him room, and now he was playing twenty questions? "No," he said, sarcasm fairly dripping off his lips. "No, I thought that I'd just go pour my heart out to you for you to step on; that's always good for a laugh. Dear God---"

Acting before he could think, Aya stopped Yohji's rant with a kiss. He pulled back a little bit, running his tongue over Yohji's suddenly stilled lips, before looking up. He was met with absolute silence. Thinking he had misunderstood once more, Aya started to get up.

"Wha--what that all about?" Aya refused to answer, simply heading for the door. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I liked it, but--" Yohji had to do something fast, if he didn't Aya was sure to walk out that door, never to enter again. He grabbed Aya's wrist, stopping the redhead cold and yanking him back around. "Talk to me, dammit!"

Aya bowed his head, hiding his eyes. "...Yes, dreams are sweet. But when they happen in reality..." Aya finally looked up, letting Yohji see him without his mask of ice. "...They're so much better."

Aya dropped his head once more, but Yohji tilted it back up. "You're right," was all he said. It was all he had to say. Yohji pulled Aya flush against him and Aya melted submissively, wrapping his arms around Yohji's neck. About goddamn time, Youji thought as he took rough possession of Aya's lips.

It was quite later that night--more like morning--before Yohji joined the dream-Aya, but then again, when you've got the real thing, who needs a fantasy?