Telling Signs

Disclaimer: Weiss is gone, and belong to themselves, An Assassin and a White Shaman belongs to Tsuchiya Kyoko and the anime to respective video distributors. I own nothing but my brain and this fic and as for money, I spent it all on j-rock cds. No books were harmed in the writing of this fic, and my brain was damaged anyway.

It niggled at him, was a warm burn on his skin, even warmer than the sun which trickled in the window onto his book, but he steadfastly ignored it and focussed with all his might on the page. Problem was, it wouldn't go away. No siree, it was still there, still trying to distract him from the book he was pages away from finishing, just when he was getting to the good part. He ground his teeth in frustration.

He could do this. He was a white hunter of the night. He was Weiss. He was a male florist in a shop with an overly cute name. He had survived attacks by psychic assassins, assorted thugs and a bomb which had tried to kill both him and his sister, and had killed his parents. And he could ignore his boyfriend whenever he wanted to. If only his boyfriend could stop staring at him. And moving closer.

He wasn't in the mood to pick another fight. He just wanted to finish the goddamned book. His eyes started to waver from the page, towards the distraction, but he jerked it back to the words. If he met Ken's gaze, it would mean he was distracted, and if he was distracted, Ken would take it as an opportunity.

"Aya, you've been staring at the same page for the last five minutes."

Damnitdamnitdamnitdamnit...

"The print is small."

Coming closer now. "I've watched you read before, Fujimiya. You read faster than that."

...IwillnotkillhimIwillnotkillhim... the sex is too good. I can't kill him. Slamming the book shut,

"What?"

Smirk. "You've lost your place."

Damnitdamnitdamnit... grinding teeth. "Thank you. I just realized that."

The irritating little bastard just grinned, rocked back on his heels, and just stared at him.

Aya was getting a little unnerved now. He swiveled on his seat towards Ken, intending to get up, but Ken moved forward, laying a hand on his chest and pushing him back against the window. He leaned forward slowly, bending over Aya, his other hand brushing away red hair until he had a totally unobstructed view into the eyes he was staring into, a small dreamy smile on his lips. The eyes became even warier as he traced one finger over the brows that were furrowed in concentration.

"Ken, are you feeling all right?"

The finger was a gentle, caressing prescence on his skin, moving down from his eyebrows, across his cheek and delicately detouring over the shell of his ear before slipping back to trace the curve of lips drawn down in worry, then along his jawline until it stopped at his chin, sliding underneath and tilting his face up against the wall. The hand that rested on his chest snaked around his waist, sliding him further down the wall until only that and the chair and Ken's arms were supporting him. Aya flailed a little for balance and settled for winding an arm around Ken's neck, pulling him down and feeling his forehead.

"I don't think you have a fever..."

Ken didn't seem to hear him, obediently following Aya's nudge closer, but he didn't stop. Aya's eyes widened in surprise just before his mouth was taken, Ken's eyes, which still never failed to remind him of rich bittersweet chocolate, half-closed and still staring into his.

Then Ken's lips parted his and his tongue slid in to taste Aya, and conscious thought packed up and went home for the day, and Aya gave up and gave himself over to the sensation. He was wrong... Ken was burning, and heating Aya up as well, their liplock passing fire down his body, little flames of pleasure licking between his legs. The glass behind him was cold as if the sun was not there, and he began sliding down, tightening his arms around Ken's neck so he wouldn't fall.

Ken was nibbling at his lower lip, planting smaller, petal soft kisses against his mouth, then hard, bruising kisses that he arched into, tongues warring with each other, tasting, and god, he didn't think he could ever get enough of Ken's taste, coffee and the onigiri he had eaten this morning and Ken. His hands tangled in soft, silky strands, holding him down...

"If you two keep this up, our neighbour's eyes are going to fall out of his head."

Aya moaned incohorently, Youji's voice an extremely unwelcome interruption, but Ken was already pulling away, and he caught sight of a wide-eyed and blushing Omi even as he looked around for Youji so he could treat him to a patented "Glare 'O Death".

He realized with a start that he and Ken were still in the shop, and during the course of the impromptu make-out session he had managed to slip down the stool until he was practically lying down, his legs sprawled out wide and that Ken's shirt was more than a little wrinkled from the grip he had had on it. Not to mention that Ken's mouth looked kiss-bruised and red and swollen and so kissable...

Aya blushed a painfully bright red and jerked up in his seat and proceeded to glare at a giggling Youji and Omi, but had no effect since they weren't looking at him, so he turned it on the proprietor of the shop next door, which satisfied his ego immensely when the man blushed, snapped his jaw shut and practically ran indoors. To Ken, snarling:

"And what was that all about?"

Grinning, leaning over to brush another kiss over his lips, "Nothing. Just wanted to know if you loved me. Seeya tonight." Turning and strolling away, hands in pockets, whistling a familiar tune.

He managed to duck the book that was thrown at his head.