Warnings/notes: Yohji/Ken, shortie, slightly silly.
Disclaimer: I don't own Weiss Kreuz.
written at 9th december 2004, by Misura, for Skyrat13, who replied to my 'Comment and I'll drabble you something for an interest of yours'-post on livejournal. (Interest:YohKen)
"Keeeenkeeen! I'm bored!"
"Hm-hm," Ken replies, thinking: 'How on earth is it possible that Yohji sounds like a seven-year-old kid? And does him doing so now makes me a pedophile for being his lover, or not? And if it does, should I stop giving soccer-training to those kids in the park, even if I'd never, in a thousand years, think about sleeping with them the way I sleep with Yohji?'
Fridaynight has always been the night on which Ken has the TV-room all to himself, since anyone who is foolish enough to try and change the channels while there's a soccer-game on can count on getting to deal with Ken's wrath for at least five days after.
Not to mention the soccer-balls that will 'mysteriously' appear out of the blue to trip up the offender (and vanish equally mysteriously, before they can be harmed), the salt in food that's supposed to have sugar in it, and vice versa, and the thousand-and-one other petty tricks one can play on persons who live in the same household. It's really quite amazing what one can learn from a bunch of twelve-year-old kids.
"You're no listening to me!"
"Hm-hm," Ken responds, thinking: 'I wish that Yohji would just shut up and let me watch this game, except that if he would do that, he wouldn't be Yohji, and even if it's kind of stupid and foolish, I'm in love with Yohji, so I don't really want him to stop being who he is.'
He can't quite recall when he's first 'fallen prey to the fabled Kudoh-charm' (Yohji's words, not his). He just did, perhaps, as Omi suggested, because he has 'seen the real Yohji-kun'. Or perhaps, as Aya grumbles, because he is an idiot. Though Ken isn't sure if Aya has any right of speaking about matters concerning sanity.
Earlier this evening, Yohji showed up on his doorstep, all decked out for a 'wild night of partying'. He invited Ken with the air of someone doing another person a great favor and honor to tag along with him, which Ken politely but determinedly refused.
"I should just leave!"
"Hm-hm," Ken agrees, thinking: 'I don't want him to, but I'll be damned if I tell him that. He knows that Aya and Omi will kill him (slowly) if he cheats on me, and I sure wouldn't be too happy with him either, only there's a difference between going out and cheating, of course, and how could I ever know for sure what'd have happened while he was gone? And am I behaving like a girl in one of those teenage-soaps now, the ones all the kids in the park call 'stupid' and swear to never watch, even if they know exactly what happened in the last episode?'
After a bit of tangling with Yohji -the friendly kind, since Yohji was mostly interested in convincing Ken to give in, while Ken was mostly interested in distracting Yohji long enough to slip by- Ken managed to make it downstairs just in time for the game.
In fact, he even had sufficient time left to kick Omi out of the TV-room. Who threw Yohji a decidedly unfriendly and vengeful look upon leaving, which resulted in Yohji hastily offering to borrow Omi 'those video-tapes'. Ken had done his best not to ponder overly much on what kind of tapes someone like Yohji would own, or what Omi would want them for.
"You don't appreciate me!"
"Hm-hm," Ken mumbles, thinking: 'Yohji is such a drama-queen. I don't understand why women like him so much; he's always whining and complaining, and if that isn't annoying, I don't know what is. He looks great, sure, good enough to watch -him- instead of the game, even if I do it from the corner of my eyes, since he's vain enough already, and that's another part of him that should put people off.'
Yohji pouts in silence after that, and Ken breathes in relief.
He relaxes a little, allowing the voices of the reporter to lull him into a feeling of safety and laziness. Contrary to games that he watches from the audience, games on TV rarely excite him. They're fun to watch, of course, and he has picked up some tricks from it, but they don't give him that rush of adrenalin that comes with being there in person.
"I don't like being ignored, Kenken."
"Hm-hm." Ken sighs, thinking: 'It was too good to be true anyway, Yohji shutting up for real. Though he sounded different just now, like he was right behind me instead of- oh. Right. That explains it, I guess. We're both assassins, so he shouldn't be able to sneak up on me and pounce on me and pin me down in my seat so that I can't move anymore, but right now I really don't care. He's a good kisser. Lots of practice, I suppose. Huh.'
"You -will- make this up to me, Kenken."
Ken nods, thinking: 'I hate it when he calls me that, but he's done it so often tonight that it's a little too late to say anything about it. And I don't want to argue. Not now, not here.'
Yohji laughs, softly, and Ken shivers, just a little.
"I've always wanted to do it here some time."
Ken blinks, feeling hurt for the briefest of moments, at the idea that Yohji is doing this just because he's never 'done it here'. He swallows the feeling quickly, before it can settle down in his mind, like a little seed of doubt that will grow in time and destroy everything he's trying to build.
He stops thinking then for a while.
For a long while.
And after that, Yohji is still holding him, and whispering that maybe it's not such a bad idea to stay home again next Friday-night, since he thinks he might enjoy watching soccer with Ken.
And Ken smiles, nodding, because he's too exhausted to speak.