Coming to Terms


Omi was having one of those days.

It was a day, like any other, at least to normal people. However, to Omi, it seemed that everything was just going right. They'd gotten the afternoon off school, and it was a Friday. Which meant that he'd have more time to study for his year-end exams, which were coming up in a couple of weeks. It was his last year of high school, so they were exams to be taken seriously.

To top that off, he had managed to explain to some of the girls who'd been pestering him lately that he really was gay, and that there was no point to their chasing him any more. It was good that they gave up on that. He was sure they could find some nice straight boy who would be much, much better for them.

Omi didn't really understand why people made such a big deal out of being gay. So he didn't like girls… so what? His roommates were mildly attractive… particularly Ken. That just meant they were nice to look at. It didn't have to mean he'd want to jump them. How could people think that? It implied that all he wanted was sex.

Omi could go through long periods without ever thinking about sex. He knew it was around and people did it, of course, but it seemed so far from reality. The explanations he'd been given in class were so… clinical. Besides, training as an assassin and working in a flower shop and having classes didn't leave much time for speculation.

What was the big deal, anyway?

Omi parked his motorcycle, removed his helmet, and headed for the front door to the shop. There was something strange about the store that day… maybe it was the absence of the crowd of screaming girls. When he got closer, he managed to catch sight of the explanation for that - a sign tacked to the front door giving the reason.

The flower shop was closed early.

Omi stared at the door in perplexity. Ken was at a soccer practice for his young team, but Aya and Youji should both have been home. Why would they have felt the need to close the store? Obviously, they had not shut the grate, so that Ken and Omi could still get in… but still…

Well, there was only one way to find out. Omi brought out his key, unlocked the door, and slipped inside, making sure to lock it again behind him. He didn't want to be mobbed by females when it was just he alone in the shop.

I have a pretty good idea what they're up to…

Aya and Youji were a couple. Not overtly so… they were half-heartedly attempting to hide it - which meant that Omi had figured it out fairly easily, but Ken had no idea. Still, they had no right to cut off their shift in order to fool around! Couldn't they wait? It wasn't like they didn't have all evening, after all… what was the rush?

Omi sighed. He was never going to understand that. He himself admitted to having a slight attraction to Ken… but he was a sensible person. Omi would never approach Ken, because it didn't bother him to stick to just admiring the older boy. Some people just had an obsession with touching each other, he decided. Well… whatever worked for them.

Sure enough, as soon as he made it into the back part of their shop, he could hear the common room stereo, turned up in a half-hearted attempt to hide any noises they might make. Christ, those two! Omi rolled his eyes. Can't they even manage to make it to the bedroom? It had to be Youji. He could be so horny sometimes… Omi shook his head and walked into the room, intending to tell them off for deserting their shift.

It didn't exactly work out that way.

As Omi flung open the door, mouth already open and eyes narrowed with the complete and confident intent of bitching out his two sex-driven teammates, he found a sight that he was completely unprepared to deal with.

Maybe he should've thought things through a little further before opening the door. But… it was too late by then.

Aya and Youji were making out on the sofa. That in itself shouldn't have been surprising, but Omi had never seen them at this before. Youji was sprawled out on top of Aya, straddling his thighs as he intimately explored the redhead's mouth. His shirt was off, displaying a lean muscled back to the scrutiny of whoever happened to walk in, and his hips moved against Aya's in a gradual pace, a slow sensual rhythm that showed nothing but pure, erotic need. His hands roamed the body beneath him, like they couldn't remember what the parts he wasn't touching right at the moment felt like, and he had to continue to feel every inch, slipping under Aya's shirt, clutching at him like a dying man. Aya's hands slipped beneath the waistband of his pants, which were loose in a way that suggested they'd been undone at some point already, and Youji groaned in helpless pleasure, disentangling himself from Aya's mouth to shower lingering, hungry kisses down the side of his jaw and over his neck. Aya's head tossed back, eyes closing, and sighed in ecstasy.

Omi stood frozen in the doorway, his whole body starting to shake. He couldn't remember what he had wanted to say.

Oh god… oh god oh god oh god oh god oh GOD!

Omi finally understand what it meant to see something so intensely sexual that it could turn you on even if you weren't involved. He felt his certainties crack. But… but I don't… I'm not… There was a tight feeling in his gut, like a knot, stabbing at him with sharp tendrils of something that felt like an ache… but wasn't.

Aya's eyes slid partially open then, and met Omi's wide ones. The older man's gaze was clouded over with pleasure, so much so that he couldn't even seem to be alarmed by his acknowledgement of Omi's presence. "Yotan," he tried to murmur, perhaps unconsciously using the blond's pet name, but the warning became a moan as his partner's mouth found a spot that was obviously quite sensitive, and he arched a little, hands tensing against Youji's lower back.

Omi bolted for his room, shut the door, and locked it. Then he slid to the floor slowly, back pressed against the wood. His face was burning furiously; he couldn't get that scene out of his head.

…Aya's fingers slid against Youji's chiseled muscles, digging into the flesh slightly, possessively…

"Oh no… no…" Omi shook his head, furiously denying the vision. He clenched his fists against the carpet, shutting his eyes tight. But that only made it worse.

…Youji kissed down Aya's throat, settling at the juncture of his shoulder and neck, hungrily sucking at the skin, like he wanted to devour it…

"Ah…" He'd never been so turned on with such a focus. It felt like he was on fire. This couldn't be happening! He couldn't be so desperately, devastatingly aroused by two very attractive men in a heated make-out session. Oh god…

…Both of them sucked in a strangled breath of air, their bodies pressed together by instinct, grinding against each other, seeking the touch, needing it so badly…

Omi let his head fall back against the door, breathing irregular. He needed release as badly as the figures in his memory now, craved it helplessly, too aroused to think straight any more. All he could see behind his closed eyelids was too supple male bodies, moving together, already caught up in the rhythm of the sex they wanted…

Less than a minute later, he was caught up in a climax so intense it sucked all the breath out of his lungs and made him gasp, arching up helplessly.

And left in what should have been a blissful aftermath of pleasure, staring at the wall on the other side of the room in disbelief, with just one thought running through his head.

What's happening to me?


Omi hugged his knees to his chest, almost defensively, staring at the TV screen without really seeing it. He had the volume turned up quite high, to block out anything from the other rooms. Aya and Youji had moved their party for two into one of the bedrooms, and Omi, being unfortunate enough to have the room between Aya's and Youji's, was out of luck with whichever one they chose. He escaped out into the common room, curling himself up on a chair and avoiding even looking at the couch.

He felt sick, and confused.

I don't understand. Omi flipped through channels with seeming idleness, trying to resolve some of the turmoil in his mind. How can it be so…? His face flushed again, and he decided not to search his mind for a word to describe it. It wasn't even me. It was just them. Just Aya and Youji. I see them every day.

It was just… seeing it

And… and now wanting it.

Omi rested his forehead on his knees. He'd never thought about it before, for himself. It hadn't been such a big thing; he thought… maybe he'd find someone, and they'd do it at some point, and it'd probably be good. But not… it was so…

Powerful. That was it. Whatever the thing was, hormones or whatever, it took a person over and turned them inside out, making them want things, like touch, and more touch, and touching like Aya and Youji had been doing on the…

Omi jerked his head up and stared resolutely at the TV screen, still flipping through the channels. Do… not… think about that! Absolutely NOT! You are in complete control of yourself. You are not going to do anything that you do not sensibly want to do, or feel anything that you do not sensibly want to feel. It was once, and only once. Just don't ever walk in on Aya and Youji again, and everything will be all right.

As soon as he could rid himself of that image, of the two of them…

"Hey! Omi! Aya! Youji! Anyone here?" The door to their back room opened, and loud, careless footsteps rounded down the stairs, announcing Ken's entrance into their living space. He spotted Omi before the younger boy had a chance to turn around. "Hey, there you are. Why was the shop closed early? Aya and Youji ditch you, or what?"

"No, they…" Omi turned, and his hand froze in the act of changing the channel, caught speechless for the second time that day. "What are you doing?" he asked, voice catching a little as he said it.

Ken finished pulling off his sporting shirt, and wiped his face with it. "God damn, I get sweaty out there. It's not even that hot." He tossed the shirt negligently off to the side, and it landed on a lamp shade, sagging over the side. "Oh yeah, shit, Aya always gets pissed off at me when I throw my clothes around. But hey, he won't notice until he's done whatever he's off doing - I'll pick it up before he sees."

Omi stared at him. Ken had a slim, nicely muscled upper torso, tanned from exposure to the sun, though of a lighter shade than the skin that had been outside of his shirt. How many people got a view like this? He remembered how Youji's hands had slid over Aya's body, in a firm caress, and wondered how Ken's would feel. Still slick with sweat, firm and hard, but with that smooth, oh so touchable skin…

No… no no no! Ken's skin would not be… well, maybe it would… but I don't want to find out! I don’t want to touch him! I want to… NOT do what Youji was doing with his mouth… Oh god…

Ken didn't seem to notice Omi's strange silence or the way he was staring. "You're not planning on using the shower, are you? Because I'm calling dibs - I've been laboring outside for hours." He tore open the sides of his button-up track pants, removing them with a finesse that made Omi swallow hard.

Oh fuck… he is so…

"Hey." Ken had stopped for a moment, peering curiously at the TV screen. "What are you watching?"

That was when Omi glanced up - and saw the two men on the screen engaging in a furious, frantic shower kiss.

Oh my GOD!

His mouth worked, but he couldn't seem to get another out besides a pathetic squeak.

"Is this porn or something?" The question came out so… casual. Omi stared at the soccer player in shock. "Youji will be upset you didn't call him out to watch," Ken commented, as if it was no big deal. "You know how he gets about the TV being on for one of those shows when he's not here."

Omi just kept staring. Ken was in his boxers. Ken was standing there in the common room in his boxers, about to step into the shower, and casually commenting on Omi watching porn!

What the hell was going on? Did this sort of thing happen all the time, and he just never noticed? It was like seeing Aya and Youji had opened some kind of… some kind of floodgate, and now he was seeing sex in everything! He had thought about molesting Ken, for christ's sake!

"Well, I'm off to the shower." Ken tossed the pants carelessly over the back of the sofa, and sauntered into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Omi buried his face in his hands. He was never going to be the same again.


Saturday morning dawned bright and clear; a beautiful start to a beautiful day. In fact, the sun was streaming in through the window as coffee brewed in the pot sitting on the counter in the shared apartment behind the flower shop. It made everything seem at least twice as clear, and gave a soft illumination to the otherwise ordinary room.

An absolutely gorgeous morning.

Aya was eating porridge - a disgusting blob of formless white gunk that none of the others could stomach. However, he seemed to enjoy it.

It made Youji sick to his stomach, honestly.

The blond was sitting in the chair beside his lover - or, rather, resting his head on the table with one outstretched hand still holding his tragically empty coffee mug. He couldn't function in the morning until he got his coffee. He didn't understand how Aya managed it.

That was Aya for you, though.

The door opened slowly, and a tousled-haired Omi slipped into the room, offered them a weak smile, and made a beeline for the refrigerator. The kid looked like he hadn't slept at all; there were dark circles beneath his eyes, and he didn't even offer them so much as a pale imitation of his usual cheerful greeting.

"Feeling any better, Omittchi?" Youji asked, managing to wake up a little. The younger boy had stayed in his room for all of the previous night, with the excuse that he wasn't feeling well. "You look pale."

Omi sat down at the table with the bowl of cereal he'd just fixed himself, and offered another faint smile. "I'm fine."

"What was the matter with you?" Aya asked.

"N-Nothing." He blushed a little for no apparent reason, and kept his eyes fixed on his cereal and orange juice, not meeting Aya's gaze. Youji glanced at his lover. He knows something I don't.

Not that that was anything new… Sometimes he thought Aya kept secrets just for the amusement value.

"Your fanbase wearing you down, pretty boy?" Youji teased, hoping to draw something more than a half-distracted response from the shorter boy.

Omi choked on his orange juice. "Youji!" he sputtered, blushing even more fiercely. His eyes looked a bit wild for a moment.

There was no chance to follow up on that, because the door flung open a moment later, and Ken made a grand entrance into the kitchen dressed in a pair of boxer shorts and not much else.

Correction: nothing else.

Youji raised an eyebrow. "Not that I don't enjoy the view, KenKen," he drawled, leaning back in his chair. "But why the change of wardrobe?"

Ken ignored him. "Whose turn was it to do laundry last night?" he demanded, looking annoyed.

A peculiar sound caught Youji's attention then; something like a strangled squeak. He turned away from the athlete in time to see Omi sink down in his chair, face an interesting shade of cherry-red.

"M-Mine," the teenager managed to get out, after several failed tries. He was staring at Ken with wide eyes, as if he'd somehow never seen a mostly-undressed male wandering around the kitchen.

"I'm out of clean clothes," Ken complained.

Aya gave him a steady look. "Put something on," he said in a not very amused tone.

"I don't have anything to put on!" Ken protested.

Omi's spoon clattered onto the table. "E-excuse me," he stammered. "I just remembered I've got something I need to do… um… back in my room!" He bolted from his seat, leaving his cereal half-finished on the table, and fled the room, cheeks still flaming.

Ken looked after him for a minute, then shrugged and sat down where Omi had just been sitting. Picking up the younger boy's spoon, he dug into the rest of the cereal. "What's up with him?" he asked, around a mouthful.

"Who knows?" Youji replied, getting up to the coffee machine to pour himself a mug. Finally! Precious caffeine… "Why don't you ask him?"

"You think he's going to do a wash?" Ken asked, finishing the cereal.

"How should I know?" Youji took his mug back to the table, and sat back down beside Aya. "I told you, go ask him."

"All right, fine, I will." Ken got up from his seat, and left the room. "Oi! Omi!"

Youji settled back into his seat. "Nice body," he felt compelled to comment, with a little smirk. "But he'll just never be my type." He gave the delicious redhead seated beside him a heated glance.

Aya ignored him in favor of the disgusting glop he was consuming.

Youji shrugged. He would have Aya's complete and undivided attention later on, that was for certain. At the moment, he could afford to be patient.


Omi threw the pile of Ken's laundry into the washing machine without any sort of grace at all. He had to get that done, or Ken would keep wandering around in his boxers… and tormenting him!

I can't believe this is happening! Omi leaned against the machine, feeling as if he were on the verge of some kind of breakdown. The day he made his big discovery about sex… the day he had his hormones yanked out and thrust in front of him… was the day the sexiest of his three roommates was running around in his boxers.

Taunting him.

Omi groaned softly to himself, trying not to think about Ken's sleekly toned body. It was all he'd been able to think about last night; the image had swum in front of his eyes every time he closed them, cutting off any possibility of sleep. And when he did sleep… he was haunted by torrid, steamy dreams the focus of which seemed to be pinning Ken down and doing all kinds of pleasurable things to him that the older boy didn't seem to mind at all.

It hadn't been a good night for any kind of rest.

This can't be happening!

"Hey, Omi!" Ken's voice called, and an article of clothing hit the back of Omi's head, flopping forward over his face. "Oh, sorry… Can you wash those for me, too? I'm just gonna get a towel."

Omi slowly pulled the fabric down off his face.

Ken's boxers. Of course.

Throwing the shorts into the wash, Omi headed for the bathroom to have his breakdown in private.


"Where did Omi go?" Ken paced restlessly around the apartment, now clad in one of their small towels. "Is the laundry finished?"

"Who knows?" Youji glanced up from the newspaper he was attempting to read - though he wasn't getting very far with it since Aya was pressed up against one side of him.

Aya glanced up at Ken, and his eyes narrowed. "Put some clothes on."

"I can't!" Ken complained. "Where's Omi?"

"Did you try the bathroom?" Youji suggested, helpfully.

"No… Hey, I just thought of something." Ken sank into the chair opposite them, looking thoughtful. "Omi was watching porn last night."

"What?" Youji frowned, feeling very offended. "Why didn't he call me?"

"Beats me." Ken frowned. "Hey, maybe Omi needs someone to talk to him… you know. About…" He coughed, looking uncomfortable.

"He's learned about it in school," Aya pointed out. "Let him deal with it on his own. You'll embarrass him."

"I'll do it," Youji offered. "I embarrass him anyway. Besides, who better to give pointers in the field of sex than the expert himself?"

From the look Aya gave him, he suspected that he would've been severely hurt if that statement had actually been sincere.

Youji prudently decided to leave the room at that point.


Omi pressed his head onto the counter. It felt nice and cool against his skin. Nice and cool… He took in several deep breaths and concentrated on that. His face was too warm. His whole body felt too warm.

Ken had thrown his boxers onto Omi's head.

"Gaaaah…" Omi let out a little strangled noise, letting his head lift and fall against the counter a few times. The world was out to get him. And Ken was in on it all, conspiring against him, strolling past Omi with his toned, sexy body visible to anyone who looked, as if to taunt the fact that there was no way for Omi to ever get sex off his mind… not now, not tomorrow… not ever again!

"Uhhhnnn…" Omi moaned softly. He had to stop thinking about it, or he'd go insane! How did Youji deal with this? How did you think about anything else when there was that constant throbbing knowledge of SEX floating around in your mind, eating up what was left of your sensible side, taunting you with images of hot, writhing naked bodies and sexy, tanned teammates who fucked you in your imagination?

It wasn't possible!

Somebody knocked on the door.

Omi lifted his head off the counter, just a little bit. "Go away, please." It came out sounding quite pitiful.

"Hey, Omittchi." It sounded as if Youji hadn't even heard him. "Ken tells me you were watching porn last night," he said, sounding more than amused.

Oh no… "Uhhhh…"

"I suppose I can forgive you for neglecting to inform me," the older man continued, and Omi heard his lighter flick. "After all, I was quite busy. Anyway, the others are concerned, so I volunteered for sex talk duty. You don't mind, do you?"

Yes! This was really the last thing he needed. Omi let out a low groan. I can't take this… "Please go away," he repeated, a catch in his voice.

Youji continued on as if he hadn't heard him. "You're a little older than I was when I started dating - but hey, some of us start late, huh? First thing you have to worry about is choosing your type of girl. And, hey, you know how many gorgeous women there are out there… there's bound to be one that's perfect for you. Most guys go for blondes - can't figure out why, but whatever floats your boat, I say…"

Omi banged his head onto the counter again. This isn't happening! Youji was not standing outside the bathroom while Omi was having a breakdown and explaining the basics of girls and sex. Girls and sex. Omi let out a little hysterical burst of laughter and buried his fists in his hair.

I don't believe this…

"Redheads, that's where it's at. Got a nice head of dark red hair… ohhh yeah. But sometimes you get a girl who's not like that - maybe a brunette. But she still turns your crank - if you catch my meaning…"

"Youji, please…"

"And skin - that's important, too, you realize. I mean, some girls have got that tan going, but if it's not the right combination with the hair, you'd rather see the pale skin. Like with that deep red shade. Then you need pale skin. And some height. Oh hell yeah…"

Omi let out a whimper and pressed his head into the counter with both hands, hard. No matter how many times I smack my head, I just can't knock myself out…

"But you - you're probably different, right? Maybe you like the red hair, tanned skin thing. Hey, maybe you don't even like red hair. Maybe you're the type that goes for blondes - or brunettes. I'll bet a girl with dark hair would look great with a tan…"

He was going to go insane. Omi examined this thought with a terrible certainty. Dark hair and a tan… Ken… Images of a toned belly and chest, lightly seasoned with sweat, swam in behind the eyelids of Omi's tightly closed eyes. "Gah!"

"There's always blondes, too. I'm not a big fan, but I have to admit, a blonde girl can really - "

"I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE!" Omi flung open the bathroom door in a startled Youji's face, and fled down the hallway to his room. "I'm NEVER coming out again!" he yelled, slammed the door. "NEVER!"

And then he sank to his knees and started pounding the floor with both fists.

Life just wasn't fair.


"How did it go?"

Youji shrugged, sitting down at the table again. "Pretty well. The reaction was promising… I think we made a breakthrough of some kind."

Ken was still pacing around in a towel. "There's something about that porn… I should remember it, but I just can't seem to."

"No worries." Youji slid his arm around Aya's shoulders, casually. "Porn is porn, right?"

Ken frowned. "No… there was something different about this porn."

"Put some clothes on," Aya told him, not glancing up from the newspaper.

"I can't! My stuff is all wet!" Ken stopped, and threw his hands in the air. "Where is Omi? I thought he was doing the wash!" Then suddenly his eyes lit up. "I remember! The reason it was different is because it was two guys!"

Youji raised an eyebrow. "You mean the porn?"

"No, I mean the laundry," Ken told him sarcastically. "Yes, the porn. Omi was watching gay porn!"

"Hmm…" Youji appeared to consider that. "In that case, my speech was off. I'll have to go do it again." He slid his arm away from Aya and got up to leave. "I'll be back in a few," he said, over one shoulder.



They wouldn't leave him alone…

Omi made a low frustrated noise, sounding suspiciously like a growl. This would seem somewhat muffled to anyone in the room, since it came from underneath Omi's pillow - which was with Omi, who was underneath his bed.

Youji was yammering on again - this time something about guys with varying skin tones or something. Omi pressed his fists against the pillow, entertaining serious thoughts about killing the man. He could do it, too… Youji might be bigger, but Omi was getting very close to having that insanity factor on his side…

And then there was the energy he needed to work off, caused by all those unwanted daydreams about riding Ken's toned naked body like a -

"Arrrrrrrrrgh…." He pulled the pillow off and hit his head on the floor a few times. It wasn't nearly as satisfying with the carpet in the way.

"… so it's basically the same thing, if you're after guys," Youji finished, still sounding like he was talking about a movie he'd seen the week previous. "A nice redhead can really turn your crank, if you know what I mean. Unless you prefer blond guys. Or brunets. As long as he's got it, right?"

Stop talking… Stop talking right now…

"Well, I think that about covers it. Catch you later, kid."

Omi waited for a minute, as Youji's footsteps faded away. Safe! He sighed in relief, and settled a little. I will never be coming out from under the bed again! he decided with firm conviction. It would be nice and safe under that bed… he couldn't be found by Youji and tortured with words, or found by Ken and tortured with images.

Yes, under the bed was the perfect place to spend the rest of his life.

Outside of his new home, the door handle rattled.


As Omi waited in tense silence, the rattling of the locked door continued for a brief moment, then ceased. Just as he was about to let out the breath he'd sucked in, however, the unthinkable happened.

The door opened, and a familiar set of quiet footprints drew toward the bed.

Omi hid his face under his pillow again. NO!

There was a rustling sound as the covers lifted. For a moment, there was silence, and Omi was struck by the crazy thought that with his head covered, his adversary could not see him.

The pillow was slowly pried from his grip and Omi found himself face to face with the familiar serious face of Aya Fujimiya. "The laundry is ready to go into the dryer," he said, in a monotone voice.

Omi knew then that he was doomed.


"It isn't too bad, you know."

Youji raised an eyebrow, but studied Ken's relaxed pose with a critical eye. "You know, maybe you're right. It does look pretty comfortable."

"I'll telling you, this might become my regular casual wear." Ken nodded, stretching out comfortably against the wall he was leaning on. "You just feel so… free!"

"I'll bet it has its drawbacks," Youji noted, with a sardonic smirk. "Can't get something for nothing, you know."

"Oh, come on… the pros have to outweigh the cons in this case… ah! Omi!"

Youji looked up. Aya was coming their way, with a decidedly unenthusiastic-looking Omi in tow. The younger boy appeared to be quite a bit paler than he usually was.

No doubt he was still sick. What other explanation could there be?

Aya's eyes narrowed when he spotted Ken. "Put some clothes on."

"I'm waiting for someone to finish the wash!" Ken protested. "All my clothes are wet!"

Omi must have had a fever as well, because there was a definitely flush to his cheeks. Not to mention quite the glassy look… Youji shook his head. Anyway, Aya had just demonstrated a definite drawback to Ken's change of attire in his not-so-pleased ultimatum.

"Ken's taking an opportunity to test out the life of a nudist," Youji commented, as Omi began to move the wet clothes from the washer to the dryer. "He thinks he might start walking around naked on a regular basis."


Omi had dropped the clothes.

Youji shook his head. "You must be sick, Omi. That was just plain clutzy."


"I am not planning that!" Ken protested indignantly, as Aya turned to fix him with a glare. "I just mentioned that it was comfortable. Anyway, it's not like you guys haven't seen it before."


The clothes went down again.

"What do you have, anyway, Omi?" Youji leaned forward, concerned. "That's twice in under a minute you've dropped those clothes! They probably need to be washed again by now."

"Ahhh… no!" Omi looked a bit wild-eyed as he stared picking up the clothing again. "They're fine! Let's dry them now!"

Youji blinked. "All right…"

"Here, I'll help you," Ken said, pushing against the wall to lever himself into a standing position. His towel caught on a snag. "Uh-oh…" He grabbed for the flimsy white material, but his effort came too late. "Whoops!"

Omi froze in the act of shoving the rest of the clothes into the dryer. For a moment, there was absolutely silence. Youji stared at his teammate, feeling certain he could hear tumbleweeds blowing around at the back of the room.

Then, breaking the stillness, Omi slowly turned around to face Ken.

The dark-haired boy grinned sheepishly, looking embarrassed. "Well, that was pretty careless…" He shrugged. "I'll just - "

"I… can't…" Omi's shoulders were shaking. Youji frowned, puzzled and more than a little concerned. There was a nervous twitch to that shivering that he didn't like too much. "I can't… take…"

"Eh?" Ken blinked at him.

"I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANY MORE!" Omi yelled suddenly, at the top of his lungs. Almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he was lunging at Ken, an almost crazed look in his huge blue eyes.

Ken took a step back, clearly alarmed, and in the next instant, Omi had him pinned to the wall behind him, hands firmly holding the taller boy's shoulders as he then proceeded to bring their lips together in one of the most up-against-the-wall, in-your-face, I-want-to-fuck-you-silly passionate kisses Youji had seen outside of the television.

Dead silence.

Omi backed off, eyes half-lidded as he regarded a very dazed, very flabbergasted Ken, who appeared not to have struggled much during the assault. "Think about that the next time you prance around in a towel!" he almost growled - in a very un-Omi-like tone.

Then he turned and stalked out of the room, leaving the others to stare after him.

Youji still had both eyebrows raised, almost up into his forehead. "You know," he said, when he found the ability to speak again, "I think you're right, Ken. The benefits really do outweigh the drawbacks."


Omi sat on his bed - not underneath - with his face resting on his hands. Why did I do that? At the point when he'd turned and saw Ken… well, naked… he had somehow lost every ounce of reason or practicality he'd had left in him. But now that he'd settled down, more rational thoughts were intruding - and they were not quite so pleased with his recent actions as his hormones seemed to be.

How am I possibly going to explain this to everyone?

How did one go about explaining why he had just pressed his naked teammate into a wall and practically molested him?

Omi shut his eyes tightly, remembering how Ken's skin had felt under his hands… Ken's lips on his own, a firm and almost tingling pressure that had sent thrilling waves all through him. It hadn't felt like that when he'd just imagined it… The thoughts now were enough to make him feel flushed and weak-kneed at the same time.


The door to his room opened. "Omi?"

Oh, great… Well, there wasn't any more time to think about what lie he could give as an excuse. Omi sighed and turned around, quickly averting his eyes when he realized Ken had neglected to replace the towel before coming to talk to him. "Umm… are you sure you don't have any dry clothes?"

The taller boy's weight settled next to him on the bed. "Is that all you can say? Aren't you going to try and explain?"

Omi frowned, forgetting his thoughts about lies and excuses. "I thought I was pretty clear, actually."

Ken's weight shifted. "How long?" he demanded.

Omi shrugged. Now that it was out… "A while. It's just… last night I walked in on Aya and Youji… and… I've been…" He squirmed, uncomfortable under Ken's scrutiny. "Constantly thinking about… it."

"What, pinning me to a wall?"

"That's part of it, I guess." He could feel his cheeks growing hot.

"Is that why you were watching porn when I got home last night?"

Omi's head swung around. "That was an accident! I didn't mean to… uh…" He let that drop, suddenly aware of just how close Ken's face was to his. "Uh… I…"

Ken gave him a half-smile. "I don' t think we're getting anywhere, do you?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Well… I've always thought, if you can't say it with words…"

Abruptly, Omi found himself pushed back onto his mattress, staring wide-eyed up at Ken, who hovered over him. "K-Ken…?"

The older boy grinned at him. "Then it's best to let your actions speak for you." He lowered himself over his friend's prone body and very softly, very cautiously pressed their lips together.

It was only for a second, but the thrill of it shot all the way through him. Omi shut his eyes, the pleasant warmth of Ken's kiss taking his breath and leaving him helpless to the sweet rush of pure feeling. Even as the dark-haired boy pulled back, he could still feel it. This has to be a dream… it can't be real…

Ken's fingers traced over his cheek. "I'll promise not to run around the house in a towel any more," he said, softly. "If you agree to be mine right now, and for a long, long time to come."

Omi let his eyes slide open, felt the smile tugging at his lips. Or maybe it's too good to be a dream… He wrapped his arms around Ken's neck, staring up into captivating blue-green eyes. "Done."

And if this was what came of suddenly and violently coming to terms with his sexuality… well, maybe having sex on the brain wasn't so bad, after all.


The End