Sweet Thunder

From the Ronin Series
scribblemoose

Another mountain
Set on fire . . .
The haze thickens

Issa

Yohji felt Ran's lips flutter softly over the length of his cock, and knew he was the luckiest man alive.

Even the faint tickle of Ronin's fur along the arch of one sensitive foot couldn't distract him from this rare and intense pleasure. He whimpered softly as Ran flicked his wet tongue out to lick over the tortuously delicate skin around his balls, before slowly sucking first one and then the other into his mouth. Yohji was fairly certain that he didn't deserve to feel this good, but he sure as fuck wasn't going to let that stop him.

Then there was a low vibration that thrummed through his balls and straight up his cock, and his mind was blown completely.

It felt suspiciously as though Ran was humming.

Yohji wasn't sure what turned him on more: the astounding sensation of the shock waves Ran was sending through his flesh, or the idea that Ran was actually humming. He reached down to tangle grateful fingers in Ran's hair, just in case his lover was in any doubt whatsoever that this was the best thing that had happened to Yohji in a long, long time.

Well, since last Thursday and the whipped cream, anyway.

This was the best stage in any relationship, Yohji knew. When the tentative explorations of each other's bodies had progressed to the stage of experimentation, when every moment they had to themselves was dedicated to trying out new and wonderful ways of pleasuring each other. What he liked especially about his relationship with Ran was that while it had taken them much longer than usual to get to this stage, it had been going strong for more than a month now and showed no signs whatever of abating. Any preconceptions he might have had about Ran as a shy or conservative lover were blown out of the water on the day he came home with a jar of maple syrup and the kind of video Yohji was very worried Omi might find, and he'd continued to be a source of surprise and wonder ever since. What made it even more remarkable, was that Ran had had only a couple of encounters before Yohji, and apart from what Yohji secretly suspected had been a more meaningful relationship when he was in Crashers, Ran had been celibate for a long, long time. He couldn't possibly have done much of this before. It was as if he'd spent the all the time since Crashers fantasising about every single way he would like to have sex if he wasn't a florist assassin on a revenge kick, and now he had the opportunity, he was systematically trying each one of them out for size.

But none of this was going through Yohji's mind as he arched his back under the delicious torture of Ran's tongue and lips. In fact, nothing very much was going through his mind at all.

"You like that?" Ran murmured, the words vibrating his lips against the hypersensitive skin of Yohji's cockhead.

"Hghn," replied Yohji, surprised that he could meet even that level of eloquence.

"Pass the bag, then," said Ran.

Yohji might have seriously worried about a lack of blood to his brain at that point, if he'd been capable of rational thought.

He groped blindly for the bulging velvet bag that lived in the cupboard next to the bed and contained their rapidly-growing collection of sex toys. He handed it to Ran, his heart racing. It was a magic bag, Yohji was sure of it. New things found their way into it while he wasn't looking, only for Ran to pull them out and surprise him with some new device, just when he thought there couldn't possibly be any new. . .

"This'll do nicely," Ran grinned devilishly, palming something that Yohji didn't quite catch sight of. "Lube, please."

Yohji moaned gently, and retrieved the large tube from it's customary hiding place under the pillow.

"Shut your eyes."

Yohji obeyed with only the faintest glimmer of hesitation.

Well, he was an assassin. It was only natural that he'd feel a little vulnerable, even with the person he trusted more than anyone in the world.

He felt Ran settle between his legs, pushing them further apart with firm hands, and then trailing teasing fingertips over the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. He heard the click of the lube being flipped open, the splurge of gel being squeezed from the tube. His body tightened in anticipation, bracing itself against the expected shock of cold lube against some part of his body, and sure enough, after a pause just long enough to be disconcerting, Yohji felt Aya's wet fingers sliding down the ridge of flesh from his balls to his anus, spreading lube generously around the sensitive skin, pushing inside just once. Then something else was pressing at his entrance, something hard and cold, not too big, but big enough, slipping inside easily at first, then stretching him wider, filling him; Ran was twisting it a little as he worked it inside, one hand flat on Yohji's belly underneath his straining cock. Then it was all the way inside, and Ran was leaning over and kissing him on the lips.

"Okay?" he checked. "Feel good?"

Yohji's eyes flickered open to take in the breathtaking vision of Ran's face looking down at him, a soft, teasing smile on his lips.

He nodded.

The smile on Ran's face grew as he worked his way back down Yohji's body, leaving a trail of kisses down his chest. He brushed his nose down the length of Yohji's twitching cock and moved back to what Yohji decided must be a butt plug that was filling him, caressing his insides every time he moved, torturing him as Ran turned and twisted it slowly, and then, when he was gasping with pleasure, and about to beg Ran to let him come, he realised something else was happening. As Ran leaned over to take his cock once more between his lips, he heard the click of a switch, and suddenly his ass was being tickled by a vibration so intense, so deep, so fucking good that he couldn't help himself. His cock exploded just as Ran touched the tip with his tongue, and Yohji watched as he came helplessly over Ran's face, drenching his cheek and his mouth, oh, God, his mouth, still spurting when Ran had recovered from the surprise and started to lick him like an ice cream, lapping up the come that Yohji thought might never stop streaming from his cock. Just when he thought he'd finally done, Ran pulled the quivering plastic from his butt, and Yohji screamed as he started to come all over again, his balls clenched tight, discharging the last few thin dribbles of semen onto Ran's waiting tongue.

He might possibly have passed out at that point; he couldn't be sure. The next thing he remembered, Ran was stroking back his hair and smiling a wicked, wicked smile at him. Yohji whimpered and pulled him closer, licked the sticky mess from his face. He felt the heat of Ran's stiff cock pressing against his hip, and in a fit of intense gratitude he somehow summoned the energy to flip his lover onto his back, scurrying down to take his slender, perfect erection into his mouth, swallowing it straight in one go, moaning his appreciation as he sucked and licked for all he was worth. That Ran was so hard, so ready, so aroused that it only took a few pumps into Yohji's mouth to make him come, was just the icing on the cake as far as Yohji was concerned. Not that he wouldn't have liked to have taken his time and loved Ran's cock with his mouth until his jaw ached, but the idea that his lover enjoyed giving him pleasure almost as much as he enjoyed receiving it was just. . .

Yohji collapsed back on the bed, wondering if his brain really had turned to mush this time, and whether he cared if it had.

"God, Yohji. . ."

Yohji heard an odd squeaking sound, and realised it had come from him.

"Me, God, too, fuck, yeah, um," he said, quite proud that he could remember that many words.

"Move over, you're on my side of the bed." Ran gave Yohji a shove and he complied lazily, wondering when Ran's sleeping in his bed had become such a permanent habit that they'd claimed territory. Ran nestled pleasantly against his chest, and Yohji snaked an arm around him and kissed the top of his head. He feebly snagged the covers half way over them before all the strength went out of him, and he suddenly needed to go to sleep more than he needed anything else in the world. Ran tutted and finished the job, taking the opportunity to drop a tiny kiss on Yohji's left nipple that tickled and would have made him jump if he'd had the energy. As he drifted off he felt the soft pad of determined paws as Ronin made his way across his body to find his neck, turning round a few times to make a nest out of Yohij's hair before he slumped down and started to purr deafeningly next to Yohji's ear.

Yohji waited for the knock on the door, the interruption, the ring of the telephone, the sound of Manx's car purring to a halt outside.

For once, it didn't come.

* * * * * * *

When Yohji woke several hours later to find Ran still curled up asleep next to him, he started to worry that fate was softening him for some particularly cruel blow. Ronin was still curled up by his shoulder, which probably meant Aya-chan and Omi hadn't come home from school yet. It wasn't dark, probably late afternoon judging by the golden light flowing through the window.

There were some advantages to taking the morning shift in the shop, however much Yohji hated getting up before noon. And spending the afternoon in bed with Ran was definitely one of them.

He stretched as much as he dared, not wanting to wake Ran just yet, curling his toes and yawning 'til his jaw popped. He cuddled Ran closer, planting a kiss on his forehead, breathing the scent of his hair, relishing the tingle that raced across his skin just from the pleasure of holding his lover in his arms.

He realised his arm had gone to sleep, but he didn't care much. He wasn't about to let go of Ran until he absolutely had to. Moments like this were too rare and precious to. . .

"Ran, Kudoh, I'm home!"

. . . last.

A slam of the door, excited footsteps on the stairs, and the moment was gone. Not that he minded all that much; Aya-chan was just another part of whatever-it-was he felt for Ran, and it all made a disturbingly happy bundle.

"In here, sweetheart," he called, Ran stirring beside him, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with his fists, and looking more adorable than Yohji would ever dare tell him.

Aya-chan bounded into the room, flinging herself on the bed and grasping a surprised Ronin to her chest, showering kisses on his little furry head. He made one of the little burrup noises he was becoming famous for, and settled to some loud purring while she vigorously tickled him behind the ears.

Yohji did a quick mental checklist of Things Aya-chan Shouldn't See, and was relieved to discover, with a quick grope of one foot, that lube, butt plug and the magic bag were all still in the bed, and miraculously under the covers.

"How was school, sweetheart?" Yohji pulled himself carefully to sitting, and reached for his cigarettes. Ran blinked at him, still half asleep.

"Okay. Me and Omi got an A for our computer project. We came top," she beamed.

"I should hope so, all the extra work you put in on it," said Yohji, pointedly, lighting his cigarette and taking a long, heavenly drag.

"Well done, Aya," came Ran's deep voice. "Father would be proud of you."

The breath caught in Yohji's throat. Ran always said that, when it mattered. After all he'd been through he could have been forgiven for wanting to forget his parents, the life before Weiss that had been so cruelly snatched from him and his sister. But he never did, and whenever Aya had done something really well, which was often, or when she was sad and lonely, which was surprisingly and thankfully rare, Ran gently gave her the memory of her parents as reward and comfort.

Aya smiled at him, not her usual huge grin, but the little, quiet smile that was startlingly similar to Ran's. "Thank you," she said. "I couldn't have done it without Omi, but. . . thank you."

The thought hung between them for a moment, and Yohji was starting to feel a little excluded, but then Ran turned to him and frowned, and growled "smoking in bed, Kudoh?" and everything was alright again.

Yohji wondered what Ran's father would think if he could see Aya-chan now, sprawled on her back across the bed, her head resting on Yohji's knees, as Ronin batted her nose. He hoped he'd be able to appreciate how cute she looked, without dwelling on the fact that Ran was in bed naked with his boyfriend and a range of hidden but undeniably present sex toys, but he doubted that enough to want the thought out of his head as quickly as possible.

"So, what else did you do today, apart from dazzling the whole school with your brilliance?" he asked.

"The usual. English. Science, which was yukky and involved a frog and a scalpel."

Yohji shuddered. "I remember that," he said. "It was horrible."

Ran snorted.

"Don't tell me," said Yohji. "I suppose you charged at yours with a yell of 'shi-ne' and dissected it perfectly in ten seconds with the tip of your katana."

Ran suddenly looked a little uncomfortable, and Aya was laughing.

"What?" said Yohji. "Is this a family secret I'm missing out on here?"

"Are you going to tell him, Ran, or shall I?" said Aya between giggles.

Ran frowned.

"He fainted," she supplied.

"Only a bit," said Ran, gruffly.

Yohji stared at him in amazement and delight

"And when his science partner cut it open he threw up," squealed Aya, giggling helplessly.

"I didn't," said Ran. "I. . ."

"What, love?" Yohji choked on his own laughter. "All that blood too much for you?"

"I didn't throw up," Ran said firmly, but his resolve dissolved under Yohji's amused but penetrating gaze. "Well, not much. I was just a bit. . . woozy. It was something I'd eaten, I think."

"Ooh, you liar!" wheezed Aya breathlessly. "I found you sitting outside the nurse's office, remember?"

To Yohji's absolute delight, Ran was blushing. "Oh yeah," he said.

"And he had nightmares after that for weeks," Aya added.

"Did not," said Ran.

"Did too," she countered.

"Did not. Kudoh, shut up!"

Yohji was laughing helplessly at the thought of the great, cold, emotionless Fujimiya Aya, whom he'd seen split men in two with his blade, being so sensitive as to. . .

He sobered, hit by a sudden, powerful wave of sadness, and his laughter faded.

Ran must have changed so much. It must have been so hard for him, turning himself from that sensitive boy into Fujimiya Aya, a killer of such ruthless efficiency that he even scared those who would be his friends.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, looking into Ran's deep violet eyes, and meaning it in more ways than Ran probably realised.

Ran grunted, and folded his arms across his chest.

"What about you, Yohji?" asked Aya-chan impishly. "You must've done something embarrassing at school."

"More things than I care to mention," said Yohji.

"Well tell us, then."

"Nope," said Yohji. "I might lose your respect, and that would be a terrible thing."

Aya and Ran both snorted at that.

"Well, alright." Yohji capitulated, realising shrewdly that if he resisted much longer there would probably be pain involved in their methods of persuasion. "There was this one time. . ."

Then came the knock on the door.

Fate really was being kind to Kudoh Yohji today.

"Hey," came Ken's voice through the door. "Aya, Yohji. We need you downstairs."

Yohji's heart sank; he could already guess what Ken was about to say, and it would prove that maybe lady luck wasn't on his side any more after all.

"Manx is here," said Ken.

* * * * * * *

"It turns out our contact was in Ace, last month," Manx said, as she pulled briefing packs out of her briefcase and passed them around the four assassins in the mission room: Yohji, Ken and Omi crowded on the sofa, and Ran standing next to her, leaning against the wall, arms folded over his chest. "Somebody had warned him off."

"You mean our cover was blown?" asked Yohji, pulling the ashtray closer and tapping a cigarette out of his pack. "How come? Was I not slutty enough to pass for a . . . slut?"

Manx ignored him.

"Schwartz," said Ran. "Shuldig was hanging around that night, remember?"

"Persia doesn't think so," said Manx. "Anyway, that's irrelevant. Birman and I tracked down the contact and have his schedule for the coming week. The mission is to capture him alive. We think it was a general tip-off that frightened him away, but there's a chance that he knows who Abyssinian and Balinese are, so we want you two out of the way. Take Aya-chan to the mountain cabin for the weekend. Bombay and Siberian will stay here and secure the target."

"That's secure as in 'not kill'," Yohji stage-whispered conspiratorially in Ken's ear. "You think you can manage that?"

"Fuck off, Kudoh," growled Ken.

"Just a word of advice," Yohji goaded. "Check for guns before rushing into the room."

"Yohji, that's enough," snapped Ran. "Manx, what if we're followed? I won't put Aya-chan in danger."

"She's always in danger," said Manx. "You know that. How's the sword work coming?"

"That's none of your business," snarled Ran. "And I still think. . ."

"Kritiker would be only too pleased to look after her for you while you're gone," hissed Manx in return. "Is that what you want, Abyssinian?"

The threat hung in the air, Manx and Ran glaring at each other.

"No," said Omi, in a choked voice. "I mean, you don't, do you Aya?"

"Of course not," said Ran through clenched teeth. If he noticed the panic in Omi's plea, he didn't show it. "I know how Kritiker look after people. She comes with us."

"As you like," said Manx, with a deceptively casual shrug of her shoulders.

"I won't have you turn her into a killer," said Ran in a dangerous voice. "Don't think I don't know what Kritiker wants. You won't have her."

"Aya. . ." Manx started, her eyes soft all of a sudden, almost pleading. "If . . ." She cut herself off with a sigh. "Just keep your eye on her." She darted a look at Yohji. "Both of you."

Yohji wondered what universe Manx thought they might be in if Ran needed to be told to keep an eye on Aya-chan, but he didn't say anything. It was going to be hard enough to persuade Aya-chan to leave Omi and her friends for a few days; he may as well save his breath for that.

"What about Schuldig?" asked Ran. "If Schwartz are involved this could be a trap, making you split us up so. . ."

"Don't be melodramatic, Fujimiya. This isn't a target. It's just a nasty little spy."

"Schuldig's speciality," said Ken, under his breath.

"Besides," Manx continued, ignoring this little aside, "you're only a couple of hours away. Shit, I'd have thought you'd have welcomed a bit of time alone, just the three of you."

Something clicked in Yohji's brain. Just the three of us. . .

Manx was gulping down the last of her diet coke, and getting ready to leave. "You have your orders," she said. "Don't fuck up, boys."

She received a collection of grunts in response, and Omi rose to see her out, remembering his manners as always.

"We'll have to tell Aya-chan she can't go to Keiko's birthday party," said Ran, softly. "She won't like it."

"That's okay," said Yohji, watching the sad expression on Omi's face as he held the door open for Manx. "Leave it to me."

"Really?" said Ran, gratefully.

"Yeah," said Yohji, with a smile. "I have a plan."

Maybe a little time together was just what the three of them needed, after all.

* * * * * * *

"Yohji, I can't go! It's Keiko's birthday! She's my best friend, and Ran said I could go, and I never get to go to parties!"

Yohji sat on her bed, and picked up the black and white kitty-chan that rested on her pillow. "Think of it as an opportunity," he said, lightly.

Aya-chan glowered at him from her seat by her desk. "Kudoh. . . "

"You have to tell him, sweetheart. This is the perfect opportunity. Just you, and him, and me to stop either of you breaking things."

"But. . ."

"It's gone on long enough, Aya. Don't you think he deserves to know?"

"Oh Yohji," her eyes shone, "he's going to be so mad."

"He might surprise you," said Yohji gently, although he doubted it. "He loves you, you know."

"He loves you, too, but that doesn't mean you don't make him mad," she said.

Yohji found himself startled by that. "It's not the same," he said. "It's a different kind of love."

"Like I love Omi," she said. "Exactly."

Yohji felt lost. "No, not like that," he said. I gave up on that kind of love a long time ago, and so did Ran. But I'm not about to rain on your happiness. "This isn't about me and your brother. It's about you and Omi."

"But, Yohji, you could tell him, he'd take it from you, he'd. . ."

"Well, that's a first," said Yohji, matter-of-factly.

Aya's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

"A Fujimiya being a coward. Never though I'd see the day."

She stiffened, temper flaring instantly in her deep blue eyes. "I. Am. Not. A . Coward," she spat.

"Whatever," said Yohji, twirling Kitty-Chan gently by it's little furry arms. "If you say so."

"Don't think I don't know what you're . . . oh, Kudoh! You're impossible!" If she'd been standing she would probably have stamped her foot.

"So they say," said Yohji, with a sly grin. "So, what d'you say? Come to the mountains with me and your brother, butter him up with . . . " oh, butter, there's an idea. . . "good wine and long walks and reading by the fire, and then we'll see if we can persuade him not to kill Omi for falling in love with you. Alright?"

"You just want to shag him in the hot springs," she pouted.

"Aya!" Yohji gasped, half out of shock, and half out of guilt, because the thought had certainly crossed his mind.

The pout turned into a grudging smile. "You can always get round me," she complained.

"I have a way with Fujimiyas," said Yohji modestly.

"I'm not promising I'll tell him," she said.

"Just try, sweetheart. That's all I ask."

"And I want to phone Keiko every day for an hour, morning and evening."

"Okay."

"And Omi."

"And Omi what?"

"I want to phone Omi for an hour a day too."

"That would be risky," said Yohji. "He'd notice. He's horribly observant, you know."

She shrugged. "Those are my terms," she said. "Or you'll have to take me there by force."

"Alright," sighed Yohji. "But only on the secure channel, and make it after midnight. And not while he's on a mission. If. . . if he should happen to. . ." Damn, so close. Shit, Kudoh, stupid, stupid, stupid.

"What mission?" she was suddenly intent, her eyes alive with suspicion.

"You know I can't talk to you about that, sweetheart. Besides, there isn't one, probably, but in case. . ."

"Are you and Ran on a mission too? Is that why we're going to the mountains?"

"No. Absolutely not. And that's all I'm saying. Now," Yohji got up, hoping to make it to the door before she asked any more awkward questions, "be nice. I'm on your side, you know."

She regarded him seriously, as if checking whether she believed him or not. Eventually a warm smile broke out on her face, and she launched herself at him, and hugged him so hard he could barely breathe.

"I love you, Kudoh."

He wrapped his arms around her, and nuzzled her hair. "Love you too, sweetheart," he said, gruffly. "But don't tell anyone. You'll break hearts all over Tokyo."

She gave him a little squeeze.

"Ran's going to be really mad, isn't he?"

What, about you falling in love with a Takatori, or me keeping it secret from him for a month? Hmm, close call.

"He'll be okay," said Yohji. "You'll see."

"Yeah." She sounded almost convinced. "You're right."

He kissed the top of her head, and wished he could believe it himself.

* * * * * * *

Yohji hadn't been to the cabin for a long time. Truth be told, it still held bad memories for him, one way or another. He'd brought Asuka here, when she wasn't Asuka, when she looked like Asuka, but kissed and spoke and fucked like someone else. And tried to kill him.

He leaned on the balcony railing on purpose, smoking. Defying the memories to haunt him.

It was a beautiful afternoon. Summer was starting in earnest now; all the trees in leaf, the sun strong and golden. He could hear Ran and Aya-chan bickering gently downstairs, the steady back and forth of siblings that got easier for them both every day.

It didn't hurt anymore. Yohji felt his body physically relax at the realisation. He could think of Asuka, and Neu, and it didn't hurt any more. It was sad, it would always be sad, tragic even, but it didn't hurt.

There was another ghost here, though: the shadowy figure in the trees that had launched his origami lifesaver that night when Neu had tried to kill him. Botan.

He was a different kind of ghost altogether.

"Yohji?"

Yohji jumped, startled out of brooding by Ran's deep voice. "Hi," he said, making sure he had a smile on his face.

"We thought maybe a walk before dinner," Ran said, observing Yohji carefully, his head tilted slightly to one side.

"Sure." Yohji dropped his cigarette butt onto the floor of the balcony and scrubbed it out with his booted foot.

"You okay?"

"Oh, fine," said Yohji lightly. "Just thinking, is all."

"Don't," said Ran. "It usually ends badly when you think. Have you seen my sweater? The orange one?"

Yohji let the slur on his mental abilities slide, just this once. "In the bag on the bed, I think. Unless Aya-chan confiscated it again."

Ran went back into the room with a snort, and Yohji looked back out towards the trees.

"Oh. What are you doing here?"

"Ran?" Yohji turned, wondering who the hell Ran was talking to, only to find him murmuring softly into the opened bag of clothes on the bed. "Er . . . Ran . . ."

Ran pulled a bundle of black and white fur out of the bag. It mewed at him, and yawned.

"Thought you needed a vacation, eh, neko-chan?" Ran said softly.

Yohji laughed, and it was Ran's turn to jump.

"Don't sneak up on me like that," glowered Ran.

Yohji leaned in the doorframe, grinning. "Neko-chan?"

"Shut up." To Yohji's delight, Ran was decidedly flustered. "Stupid cat got in the luggage."

"I'm sure we'll cope," said Yohji.

"Hn."

Ronin shook his little furry body, and looked around at his new surroundings. Comfortable bed, surprisingly clean air, tempting birdsong drifting on the evening breeze.

He padded over the pile of clothes, stretching his legs out one by one as he went. Lots of exploring to do. He stopped when he got to a plump, tempting pillow and sat down, watching Ran and Yohji as they got ready to go out.

By the time they left the room, clattering down the stairs after Aya-chan, the little cat had fallen fast asleep.

* * * * * * *

Tsukiyono Omi emerged from the shadows, strolled casually to the lamp-post, and waited. He wore tight leather pants, a cropped, black t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off, and biker-style boots that added a full two inches to his height.

He was enjoying this.

His keen eyes noticed Ken, flattened against the wall in the alley three shop-fronts up, and he relaxed, standing invitingly in the spotlight of his lamppost, leaning his back against the cool metal.

He waited.

Sure enough, within ten minutes the man who'd caught his eye in the club was stalking towards him, licking his greasy lips. His eyes flickered from Omi's eyes to his groin, and back again, a nasty grin twisting his lecherous mouth.

"Haven't I seen you before?" Omi kept his voice steady, no smile on his face. If the rest of Weiß could have seen him, they would have found his eyes chillingly cold.

"You were checking out my ass in there," the man jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the door to the club. "Looked like you could do with a bit of. . ." his eyes flickered once again to Omi's leather-covered crotch, ". . . relief." He drawled the word in a way that he probably thought was seductive. It was, in fact, nauseating.

Omi forced himself to smile, not a warm, friendly Omi-smile, but the cold, calculating smile of the assassin he had chosen to be on that particular night.

"You up to the job?"

The man looked like he couldn't believe his luck. "Give me ten minutes," he said, eagerly. "I'll prove it to you."

"Over there," Omi nodded towards the relative seclusion of the nearest shop doorway.

He let the guy cup his butt as they walked, carefully adjusting his breathing, making it just a little faster, raising his pulse as if this was what he'd wanted to happen all night.

Of course, in a way, it was.

Omi stood with his back flat against the glass of the shop door, and started to open his pants.

"On your knees," he said. "If you're good I might return the favour."

He pushed the man's head down and he complied happily, his nose on a level with what he probably thought was an erection just behind Omi's hand.

Sorry, thought Omi, grimly. I'm a one-woman guy.

Omi looked up to find Ken. . .

Not there.

Shit.

He thought fast, looking down at the disgusting specimen of humanity that was about to find out that Omi's burgeoning desire wasn't burgeoning at all, and that it really wasn't his lucky night.

There was nothing else for it, Omi realised. He'd just have to hope he could get it right first time.

He looked carefully at the grubby, straining neck laid out in front of him, raised his right hand, and struck neatly, one swift, powerful blow.

Omi's would-be suitor slumped against his legs, unconscious, and Omi let out a long sigh of relief, just as Ken appeared round the corner.

"Sorry," he panted. "There was a cop on the prowl. I had to. . ."

"Hide?" suggested Omi, furious. "Walk away?"

"Um. . . oh. I didn't think of that," said Ken. "I kinda. . . I didn't want him interrupting, and. . ."

"Baka!" Omi pulled up their quarry but the greasy scruff of his neck, and threw him at Ken. "The cops round here ignore everything short of actual homicide taking place right in front of them. Which, on this occasion, we aren't doing, remember?" A sudden thought horrified Omi, and he stopped doing up his pants, looking at Ken with complete dismay on his face. "Kenken, you didn't. . ."

"What? Kill him? Omi, don't be silly." Ken held a cloth over the man's face, chloroform to make sure he didn't wake up and give them any nasty surprises.

Like he was supposed to in the first place, thought Omi, a little bitterly.

"I just knocked him out," Ken was saying. "And look, you were fine, huh? We've completed the mission. Let's drop this guy off for Manx, and we can be back before midnight, just like you wanted."

"Okay," said Omi, suddenly cheering up.

"And, er. . . Omi. . ."

"What, Ken-kun?"

"There's no need to mention this, um, incident to Aya, is there? Or Persia? Only he's still mad at me from last time, and. . ."

"No," said Omi. "I won't. But make sure it doesn't happen again."

Ken bristled at the unusual authority in Omi's voice, but he didn't say anything. He hoiked one of their victim's arm over his shoulder, Omi taking the other so it would look to any bystanders as if they were helping a drunken friend down the sidewalk.

There was a glint of a knife and a low chuckle from the alleyway where Ken had left the unconscious policeman, but they didn't notice.

* * * * * * *

Yohji pulled back the covers and slid into bed with a sigh.

He felt clean and warm, his skin soft and toasty from the bath. Ran put down his book, and held out an arm for Yohji to snuggle into, dipping his head to press his lips lightly to Yohji's, moaning softly into their kiss.

If Yohji hadn't been quite so mellow, or quite so sleepy, or quite so horny, he might have started to worry that this all felt far too good to last. As it was he just sank into the pleasure of being in bed with the man he. . .

Did he?

His heart was pounding, all of a sudden.

"You feel good, Yohji."

Too right, I do. "So do you, love. God, but you feel good. And. . . very hard."

Ran's lips vibrated softly against Yohji's neck, and down his shoulder, as he murmured something about Yohji's body being very inspiring, and then they were kissing again. Yohji wound his tongue lazily around Ran's, again and again, sinking back onto the pillows, making a funny little mewling sound in the back of his throat.

"I want you, Yohji," Ran whispered in his ear, running his strong hands down the soft skin of Yohji's back. "Can I?"

Yohji snorted. "Baka!" he said, but gently. "You don't have to ask."

Aya rolled him swiftly onto his back, his cock pressing urgently into Yohji's hip. He leaned over Yohji, supporting himself on strong arms locked straight, one either side of Yohji's head. "I never take it for granted," he said, seriously. "Nothing. Never."

"No," whispered Yohji. "Me neither."

They looked at each other for a long moment.

"Please," said Yohji.

Ran smiled, shifting his weight onto one hand so he could use the other to stroke Yohji's damp hair back from his face. His lips parted, just slightly, as if he was about to say something, but he hesitated.

Yohji drew his head down, and kissed him.

There were no toys this time, no games, no banter of words. There were long kisses, the slow sweep of hands over heated skin, gentle shifting and rocking of bodies against each other. And when Ran took Yohji, he took him slowly, slower than Yohji ever remembered anyone taking him before; he looked into Yohji's eyes for the longest time, as he moved slowly in and out of his body. He covered Yohji's eyes in kisses, wrapped his sex in the caress of slender fingers, filled him with heat and movement.

When Yohji came, Ran urged him on with soft words, and told him he was beautiful. And when he came himself, his head fell forwards with a long sigh, his soft hair stroking Yohji's face like a hand.

Yohji gathered him into his arms, and when he was sure Ran was asleep, he whispered new words into the still night air, to see if they were true.

* * * * * * *

Underneath the cabin was a basement and, this being a Kritiker-designed and maintained facility, it was furnished as a training room. There was a gym, and a range for missile weapons, and a dojo.

Ronin sat at the edge of the dojo, and watched Aya-chan practice her katas.

Her face was serious, intent, and she concentrated on every movement with care and precision. If it hadn't been for Ran, she'd never have cut herself at all.

"Aya-chan! Put that sword down now!"

She jumped, and dropped the sword guiltily.

Ran stood in front of her, his eyes flaming with rage.

"Boken," he said. "We agreed. The boken."

She looked at the floor, her cheeks burning.

"I can't teach you if you don't show respect for your weapon, or for me."

Aya-chan cursed herself. She'd only wanted to see what it felt like, and it was there, the katana, not Ran's, just any old katana, and she liked the feel of it in her hand. . .

She fought back hot tears.

She'd been so pleased when he'd agreed to teach her. His only condition, and not an unreasonable one from master to apprentice, was to start with the boken until he felt she was ready.

"Is this a Fujimiya-only fight, or can anyone join in?"

They both glared at Yohji, anger and repentance, and he decided not to come any further into the room. He leaned against the wall, one foot flat against the wood, and folded his arms across his chest.

Ran's expression softened, just a little, and he turned back to Aya-chan.

"Aya, you're bleeding!" he cried, and she realised she was. Not much, just a little from the fleshy pad at the root of her thumb. The blade must have glanced across it as it fell.

"Shit, Aya, I'm sorry."

"S'okay," she said, sucking at the wound. "It's nothing."

Suddenly Yohji was there, pulling her hand from her mouth and looking it over critically. "You'll get away without stitches," he said. "But it needs dressing properly. Come upstairs, I'll see to it. Don't want your brother fainting, do we?"

Ran glared protest, and hustled them upstairs.

Ronin paused to spit at the sword, before he followed them.

* * * * * * *

The weather was starting to close in by Saturday afternoon, inky clouds gathering ominously in a slate-grey sky, the air tasting like steel. They were on their way back from a walk on the mountain, and Yohji was tired. He didn't much approve of walking, truth be told, although it was a price worth paying for Ran's good temper, and Aya-chan loved it. Unfortunately she seemed still to be resolutely ignoring any opportunity to break the news about her relationship with Omi to her brother.

"Can we stop?" he whined.

"Another cigarette break?" complained Aya-chan. "Kudoh, you really need to quit."

"One day, princess. But not today, alright? Be kind to an old man?"

"We're only fifteen minutes from home, tops."

"But I'm tired," moaned Yohji.

Aya-chan and Ran exchanged a look, a mixture of annoyance and indulgence on their faces, and stopped.

Yohji tried to look meaningfully at Aya, but she ignored him, somehow making sure he couldn't quite catch her eye.

He sighed.

"I can smell flowers," she said dreamily, laying back on a flattish rock.

"You've lived in the flower shop too long," said Yohji, taking a long drag on his newly-lit cigarette. "All I can see is mountain grass."

"I can smell it, too," said Ran. "Jasmine, stock, something like that."

Yohji shrugged. "I can't smell anything," he said.

There was a rumble in the distance that might have been thunder, except that it didn't come from the sky.

"Earthquake," said Yohji.

Ran shrugged. "Not big," he said.

The next rumble was louder, and the ground shook.

"Bigger," Ran observed, and reached out to hold Aya-chan's hand.

She was staring at the sky, a little frown on her face.

The ground was still shaking, a little harder now.

Yohji took a long drag on his cigarette. He wasn't used to earthquakes out of doors. Indoors, yeah. Lots of those. But he didn't remember one happening outside before.

"It's okay," said Ran. "It'll pass."

Sure enough, the trembling was lessening.

"That'll be why Ronin was howling like that when we left," said Yohji. "Cat's can tell when there's going to be an earthquake. Can't they, sweetheart. Sweetheart?"

Aya-chan was still staring at the clouds massing above them, and her hand was gripping Ran's tightly.

"It's okay," said Yohji, scrambling to her side. "See? It's stopped."

"Aya?" Ran couldn't disguise the panic in his voice.

Aya-chan shook her head, as if waking from a dream. "Sorry," she murmured. "I was miles away.

Yohji and Ran breathed a sigh of relief.

There was a crack of thunder so loud that they all jumped, and it started to rain.

"Fuck!" said Yohji. "See, this always happens when you go outside without a car. Who's stupid idea was it, anyway?"

"Quit complaining, Kudoh," said Ran. "A bit of rain won't hurt you. You're waterproof."

"It'll make my hair fluff out," complained Yohji.

Aya-chan squealed happily. "Stop arguing," she yelled. "Run, you idiots!"

She ran ahead, laughing, as the rain came down.

"I'm not running," whined Yohji.

Ran looked at Yohji, rain streaking his hair and face, lower lip almost pouting. They were both already drenched.

"Do you have any idea how sexy you look when you're all wet like that?" he growled. "And how much I want to get you home and fuck you in a nice hot shower?

Yohji's sulky expression transformed to a wide grin. "Let's run," he beamed.

* * * * * * *

The day was almost over, and Aya-chan still hadn't said anything. When Yohji and Ran had crept guiltily out of the shower, she'd been ensconced in her room, on the phone to Keiko, and now it was dinner time, and Yohji was getting worried. He wanted her to do it now, not tomorrow. Not when they were about to leave and Ran would be driving them back in a temper. It would be a really good idea to put a good night's sleep between Ran's inevitable fury and his seeing Omi again.

He needn't have worried, of course. Aya-chan was thinking much the same thing.

She switched off her phone, Keiko's voice still ringing in her ears, wishing her luck. She pulled a comb through her hair, tangled from getting wet in the rain, and rehearsed some words, mouthing them silently, trying to imagine any outcome to the conversation that didn't involve Ran and his katana and more blood.

She absently inspected the dressing on her hand. It had got drenched, of course. She'd best take it off and get Yohji to put a fresh one on.

She gently peeled the sodden cotton off her palm, and gazed at her wound in amazement.

Fuck me sideways, she thought.

It was completely healed.

She looked closer: there was the barest of scars, just a thin, white line, as if it had happened years ago.

It must be an omen. A sign. Possibly a portent, she decided, and pulled herself up to her full height, chin high, determined.

She was going to tell him. Now.

Yohji and Ran were in the sitting room, Yohji prodding the logs on the newly laid fire, its warmth already chasing away the post-storm chill. Ran sat watching him, stroking Ronin with long, kind fingers.

She cleared her throat; they both looked up, and smiled.

"Ran," she said, determination clear in her voice, "I've got something to tell you."

"What is it, Aya?" Ran looked relaxed, and calm, and Yohji was here, and there was surely nothing to be frightened about.

Ronin waddled off Ran's lap and hopped to the floor.

Aya took a deep breath. She darted a look at Yohji; he nodded, and she noticed he was moving closer to Ran.

"I'minlovewithaTakatori," she said, all in a rush.

It hung in the air, and Aya-chan bit her lip. Fuck. That wasn't exactly how she'd planned to say it at all.

"Takatori?" Ran's eyes flashed purple.

Ronin ran under the sofa, and hid.

Illustration by PL Nunn

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