There's a deep gut-wrenching intensity to sex in dreams that sex in the flesh can never match. Possibly because dream sex is so pure, so focused -- there's nothing, no taste, smell or sound that isn't part of the act. Everything contributes. Dream desire is frenzy, dream skin is virgin velvet, imaginary lips are soft as petals, always sweet, and the trembling, desperate striving of the fucking itself is so much greater a perfect torment than in the real world. And actually coming in a dream? It can all but kill you! Especially that electric instant of leaping from the dream to the sharp, wet reality of release, pulsing helplessly like a twelve-year old into your fifth goddamned pair of pajamas in a week. Shit.

Kudou Youji shook his head and pushed another sharp stemmed bloom into the arrangement he was building while he thought about dream sex and the load of damp laundry waiting in his closet. The late afternoon sun washing in through the high workroom windows of the Koneko felt good; his hands were stiff and cold from water and refrigerated greenery. His consciousness wove with threads made up of cold water, snapping shears, cash register bells, Omi's joking tenor -- creating a single odd fabric along with the remembered moans, whispers and cries of his dream lover. No one watching him would imagine that behind the calm, good-natured workmanlike face Youji was obsessively playing and replaying the frantic grasp and pull of fingertips against lean hips, the thrust of flesh into tight, hot heaven.

He had gotten past getting hard every time he screened these sweaty movies in his mind; had to -- he'd gotten to the point now of almost continuously sifting through the images like worrying at a sore tooth with his tongue. He thought about them every day, all day. He searched for patterns and meanings beyond the obvious libidinous imperative to Get Off.

He wanted to figure out why, why on earth now, at his age, with his sexual history, would he begin having world class wet dreams nearly every night! It had been going on for about two weeks and he was getting very, very tired.

The door at the back of the shop banged open and Aya pushed through with a rolling cart of tomorrow's cut flowers for the front display cases. As he passed Youji the redhead muttered just loudly enough, "Tell me that's not the same arrangement!"

Youji smiled down at his busy hands.

"Yeah, it is. So? This isn't an assembly line, you know...it's ... art!" flourishing his shears. Aya was long gone, of course. Youji could hear his dark voice rumbling beneath the girl horde's welcoming tide of chirps.

He had also stopped turning red every time he saw Aya. That had been even more difficult than overcoming the dream induced hard-ons. Aya was Youji's squirming, willing and very limber co-star in every one of his recent private productions.

Youji was okay with the best wet dreams he'd ever had revolving around another man; he didn't really care as much about gender as he did about sex. But when the sex object was Fujimiya Aya? It made him worry about his mental state. Where the hell was it all coming from? Aya was certainly easy on the eyes but he just didn't inspire lust in Youji. Well, hadn't.

Youji figured his sober teammate had probably been born with a sex drive like everyone else, but Aya didn't date, didn't talk about, laugh about or even act like he'd ever heard of sex. It was obvious that his id was all about Revenge. The only thing Youji could imagine Aya breathing hard over would be a clear shot at a Takatori. He grinned at a spray of baby's breath, tucked it into the last corner and was finally done.

As he put away tools and cleaned off the worktable, he idly compared the dream Aya with the real Aya for the nth time.

Dream Aya was smooth, soft and white all over. Like a magically animated being of frost and ice, he would urgently press his silky cool skin against Youji's desperately heated dream self. God, the feel of that skin! Like being massaged with ice cream and satin.

Real Aya was pale, too. Youji could remember a sunburn so bad Aya had looked like an animated snowflake as he peeled and scratched. Prevention was almost as horrifying; zinc oxide in fish oil is not an attractive scent on anyone.

Dream Aya was ceaseless and raunchy; he crooned and whispered the most vulgar and specific instructions directly into dream Yohji's ears. "ahh ...put your fingers in me..unh...goood!...hold still...I'm gonna fuck your hand...ah...rub harder..ah.. ah...fuck ...yesssss...another one.....oh god...coming, coming...oh oh...fuck me now Youji!... put your cock in me ...push ...unh ...yesssss ...ohh hard hard ...fuuuuck me ...." Youji felt a light sweat break out above his lip thinking of Dream Aya's hitching breath and those sharply sensual bursts of encouragement and lust.

Real Aya had a heck of a voice, too. He could break bricks with it. And, a definite way with words. "Kudou! For the last time move your goddamned car or I'll run it over!!" "Buy something or leave!!" "Who the HELL left these in water overnight!!!" Dream Aya had a tongue that teased and flickered and snaked over dripping flesh and chill-crimped nipples. Big deal! Real Aya had a tongue that could flay the living skin off a man at twenty yards with a few well-chosen syllables.

There was a noisy evening meal around the kitchen table and then Weiss dispersed into the quieter, mission-free night. Omi called goodbye over a shoulder as he met school friends outside the shop; Ken mumbled around pizza crust as he headed for the third floor gym as on most nights; Aya just evaporated without a word when the kitchen had been put right. Off to read probably. Youji flipped on the television in the communal living room and started idly surfing. He continued his catalog of comparisons...

Dream Aya's hair was scarlet flame, blood red silk floss that seemed almost sentient in the way it looped and twined around wrists and fingers and once, Youji's passion paralyzed cock. Dream Youji would push his hands through the glorious liquid stuff and shudder with longing and possessive fire. Dream Aya would moan appreciatively, violet eyes rolling slowly shut, head twisting to dart a pink tongue tip against Youji's wrist while curving up and up to press himself into Youji ...Dream Aya's hair smelled of strawberries and roses.

Real Aya's hair was thick but rather coarse, actually, and could stick up in the most creative liberty spikes some mornings -- no two alike! A memory of Aya hunched over the kitchen counter in a grey dawn flashed through Youji. It had been a long mission night and an early wake-up; Aya appeared to be praying over the tea kettle as he stood shivering, yawning, crossed arms hugging his ribs in that tatty orange sweater, baggy flannel pyjama pants drooping to puddle around carpet slippers three sizes too big -- hair mostly flattened with a single shocked lick standing above one eye, the long momiage twisted up behind his ears making them stick out interestingly.

Youji laughed softly, grinning at the Aya in his memory and laid back on the couch, piling up some pillows, settling in to watch some movie or other. He really ought to stop comparing his oh so real friend to his willowy nightly concubine; it just wasn't a fair competition. But, he had to admit, squirming a bit, that working those comparisons and staying just a little bit hard all the time was beginning to feel kind of good.

Four hours later, a pyjama-clad Fujimiya Ran, now called Aya, drifted silently down the back stairs into the kitchen and saw the flickering blue aura of the television in the otherwise dark living room beyond. Someone still up? He peered around the corner. Youji! Asleep on the couch...head drooping over the edge, trailing arm still clutching the remote, breathing deeply and muttering. Aya rolled his eyes. What a character! Just fall asleep anywhere!

He debated waking Youji to send him upstairs and while he hesitated, Youji's mutterings grew louder and more emphatic. He also rolled over fully onto his back and flung the hand with the remote over his head. The tv's electric glare clearly limned the length of his body and that silhouette clearly demonstrated exactly what Youji was dreaming about. Aya snickered silently. Then, he heard distinct words emerging from Youji's now continuous dream mumble.

"Aya...ahh...god, yessss...do that...let me ...let me....mmm...ah, ah...oh god stop, baby or... up...up...got to fuck you now..."

A wave of shock crashed through Aya cleanly from his head through his feet leaving him poleaxed in its wake. When he could finally take another breath, Youji had already moved on...

"..yess, baby..show me...just move....god Aya ... Aya!" Youji's body froze, his hips thrust once, twice and then the small room filled with a sea deep groan of absolute release as he came.

By the time Youji had wrenched himself upright on the couch, confused, heart hammering, crotch and thighs wet yet again, Aya had quietly vanished. Shaking off the dream spell, Youji snapped off the television and slowly climbed the stairs to his room. Well, at least he wouldn't ruin another pair of pyjamas tonight. Hopefully. Two weeks of this torture was really enough. He was definitely going out the coming weekend to find a real live human to have actual sex with. Probably.

As Youji's door closed behind him, Aya's door also closed the last half inch it had been open. He'd felt compelled to watch as Youji came upstairs. Shaky breathing had stopped completely as Youji's t-shirt was stripped over his head and his fly matter-of-factly popped open. When Youji twitched the pants sideways to lower the zipper, Aya could see a fine line of brown hair marching straight down into the V of his pants where a gathered darkness confirmed that, of course, Youji wasn't wearing underwear. Aya felt a flush paint his cheeks as the other man's door snicked shut.

He left the lights off and sat down hard on his futon, arms wrapped around himself and the totemic orange sweater. Youji had had a sex dream about him. And he'd come. Aya had only glimpsed Youji's face for a crucial moment before sprinting away.That glimpse now hung glowing in the dark in front of Aya's slitted eyes for him to examine at leisure. Tangled honey gold hair tossed around his thrown back head like a halo; a light sheen of sweat glistening across his forehead and on his upper lip; slightly parted full lips; chest heaving with the effort of breathing; that pained growl of a voice! He looked like he was having a revelation, not an orgasm. He was beautiful.

Aya could not credit this image of Youji in ecstacy; it was just too much like his dreams! Exactly, precisely what he had been dreaming for the last handful of nights about his friend and team mate!

He'd thought about those damned dreams a LOT and concluded that they weren't really about Youji, per se. Dream Youji, Aya had decided, must represent the normal urges of youth that had been temporarily derailed for him by...events. These dreams likely just meant that Aya was picking up where Ran had left off almost two years before; coming to grips with being an adult gay man. Hah! So much for that theory. He had to rethink the whole thing in light of...Youji crying out his name while he writhed on their couch looking like a god. Looking like dream Youji. Aya shivered.

Real Youji was no god; he could be lazy and sarcastic. He ate fried eggs with natto; he belched and frankly, there were times when he didn't smell very good. He was vain about his hair; which was good, yes, but not as good as Mr. TossLocks seemed to think.

Aya felt a quick sting of compunction. Real Youji was also a great guy! He could be very funny -- he'd made Aya laugh so hard once he'd cried. He was solid and eerily capable on missions; Aya owed him his life over and over. He really was good at flower arranging, too.

But for all Youji's good points, and there were plenty, Aya just hadn't imagined him having the pure, raw sexual power of dream Youji. Everyone knew Youji liked to go out and raise hell but the number of people he bothered to actually date did not jive with the Youji legend; Aya paid attention. Youji was more fastidious than his press would have it.

Dream Youji was more like that largely fictional club persona; predatory, demanding, insatiable. He'd stalk and corner dream Aya like some kind of feral golden cat, taking what he wanted and Aya helpless to stop him.

Aya's memory felt those strong thin fingers grabbing his hips, his arms, cupping his face...then burning lips and a hotter tongue attacking his mouth, pushing and pulling fire between them. Nailing him in place with those green eyes, then pressing Aya down to his knees, murmuring obscenities in a sweet broken voice ..."Aya...put your mouth on me.. suck me...ahhh...that's it...ah, squeeze them...yes, oh, god ... good that's sooo good...pretty Aya...ohhh yeah..." and again, those strong thin fingers, buried in his hair pulling and pulling and pulling at his head. Aya touched one finger to his lower lip...he could still feel the echo of that orgasm and it tripped a slow throbbing ache deep inside him.

So, if real Youji could look and sound that much like Dream Youji, did all this dreaming boil down to Aya really just wanting Youji to fuck him? Part of him was horrified while another part throbbed even harder at the thought. Could it be that stupidly simple? Aya prided himself on facing difficult truths. It would appear that he had a...thing...for Youji. But they were friends!

"Where else do lovers come from but friends?" whispered a still small voice.

Even if that was so, exactly what should he say to Youji? He couldn't imagine how that conversation might sound. He'd no idea what to do to take an attraction to the next appropriate social level. There had to be intermediate steps between "We're friends" and "God, deeper, faster...!" at which he could only guess.

"As if you'd mind driving straight for the goal!" the obnoxious still small voice jibed. "Skip the courtship! You saw him down there tonight! He's already got you naked!"

On the other hand, he really didn't have to say anything to Youji, ever, did he? He could just keep his mouth shut and wait it out. He'd get over the attraction eventually and the dreams would stop and Youji wouldn't ever have to know. That certainly seemed the more prudent course.

"I mean, look at me! I can't even control myself sitting here all alone!" he thought disgustedly, readjusting the chokehold of his pyjama bottoms. Body was having a silent but full tilt match with Mind.

The hand unconsciously pulling at the futon cover bumped into his journal and pens. Useless. No need for any more detailed, analytic descriptions of the dreams. There were no deep psychological truths to be ferreted out here -- just plain old garden variety horniness. Plain and ordinary. Ordinary. Common. Everyday, nothing special horniness. Just like everybody else. A slow smile transformed the somber Weiss swordsman into a handsome young man as he entertained the notion of normal. Wouldn't it be great to be even a little ordinary! A constriction in his chest that he hardly noticed anymore ratcheted down a notch.

If he could somehow be normal again, he could start going out, meeting people, dating. He could touch someone. He could get someone to, god! ... touch him. He could have a book with people's phone numbers in it. He could learn to dance, remember anniversaries. He could tell jokes and buy people drinks. Sure! Why not?! He could flap his arms and fly to the moon, too, while he was at it! Crap! Why couldn't he have just done what Nobu Hajime had so badly wanted him to do that time in the locker room? Then this wouldn't be such a big deal, would it?

As his mind was chased in ever widening circles, another realization leapt out at Aya. If those dreams weren't symbolic discourses with his subconscious, then they were just plain sleaze! God, nightly porn fests using Youji's face and body! May as well spy on him and beat off. Oh, god, no! But how can you help dreaming? How do you make the lizard brain obey the rational one? Well, dragging dark things squealing into the light by talking about them was known to be effective... Like lancing a wound to relieve pressure or a sort of exorcism. And what if that was the ONLY way to stop the dreams? In that case, it could be argued that telling Youji was really a requirement of honour...

"And we have a winner!" chortled the libidinous still small voice. "Go Body! Nice save!"

Aya unfolded to his feet and found himself moving to the door. Now. He would go now. Youji had only just gone into his room; the house was quiet and Aya might not find his nerve again in daylight. He was going now, maybe, probably. Then his hand was somehow hovering out there in front of his face so he knocked once, twice on Youji's door. A thin slice of light washing under the door made his feet look ghostly as he stared down at them intently. He couldn't believe how sickly anxious his stomach felt! Suck it up, Fujimiya!

Youji looked up at the tapping. He'd been reading, trying to find a way back into sleep. He must have pulled the door open a little quickly; on the other side a startled Aya jumped. Aya?

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing! Nothing...I just need to talk to you for a minute. May I come in?" Aya looked very uncomfortable. Youji stepped back from the doorway. He was barefoot, the loose drawstring pyjama pants hanging from his narrow hips his only clothing but he looked wide awake, Aya thought.

"Yeah, sure! Come on in! What's up? Can't sleep?"

Aya wandered over to the big overstuffed armchair across from the bed, the reading lamp shining behind it. He sat swallowed up by the huge chair, curling his bare feet underneath him. For some reason he didn't want Youji to see them. He realized he was just sitting there looking his hands, not talking. There was a lump in his throat. He tried to swallow it.

Youji was becoming alarmed. Aya looked upset and he was obviously struggling with something. Youji had closed the door and was now sitting on the carpet near his friend's feet.

"Aya, what's the matter? Something's wrong. What is it? You know you can tell me..."

Aya looked down into Youji's friendly, concerned, pretty green eyes; ignored the bare, nice, smooth, well-defined, bare chest and started talking.

"Youji, I have a confession to make. It won't be easy so don't interrupt me, okay? I just want to get this out..."

"Ok, Aya. Go ahead." Youji was more and more alarmed. Confession!? Aya had killed someone; Aya had killed Ken! No! Aya had cancer! No! Aya was leaving Weiss! No!

"I've been having these...dreams. A lot of them. And, you're in them. And me. And we ...um, do things ... I thought I should tell you because it isn't right to just...think about you that way, secretly, and I wouldn't ever want to do anything...you know I think a lot of you, I respect you, and I wouldn't ever want you to think that I think anything else, ever, of course, so I thought I'd better talk to you...it's only right..."

Aya was talking to his hands, his face intent and flushed. Youji leaned forward into the soft spill of words, trying to make sentences and sense. What the hell? Then one word riveted him...

"Dreams?" Aya was talking about dreams...how...what...did his face look as stupid as it felt? He picked up the thread again...

"...but I would understand if you weren't interested in ...anything like THAT with a team mate. I could understand completely but I think ..I must be ...interested in you that way because these dreams ... are...vivid...I can't stop thinking about them...about you..." Aya felt stupid and caught out. He was babbling! Babbling!

Youji bit off one sharp laugh of disbelief. Aya stopped short, staring down at him, the flush draining away.

"You're dreaming about me? What kind of dreams? The kind it sounds like?"

Youji unconsciously scooted a few inches closer to Aya, tilting his head slightly to look up at Aya from underneath his brows.

"Sex dreams?" he asked in a low voice. Aya couldn't look away from Youji's eyes but he couldn't find his voice again either. He nodded. Emphatically. His eyes were huge violet pools in his now bloodless face.

"Son of a bitch! You're kidding! No, you're not, are you..." Youji was dreaming about Aya because Aya was dreaming about him! A wolfish grin bloomed across his face. Of course! Youji had a sixth sense for when someone was attracted to him. Aya was damned good at hiding things, but something in Youji must have picked up the signals anyway. He wasn't crazy!!

"Oh, I'm so relieved!!" Youji blurted, reaching up to pat Aya's knee, unselfconsciously happy.

Aya squeaked. "Relieved?!" He cleared his throat, got his voice back, "Relieved? What..."

"Yes! I'll confess right back at you...I've been dreaming about you too! God, Aya, this all makes sense now..."

He was caught up laughing over the solved mystery so that he was actually surprised when Aya just fell forward, pressing his lips to Youji's. The initial landing was a bit hard but the kiss was sweet after that, soft and tentative. Youji did nothing until Aya began to pull back and then he followed...as Aya drew back and up, Youji started up and forward, not letting go for an instant. He reached for Aya, held him in place by the shoulders while he raised himself up from the floor and Aya up from the chair. When they were standing, he stepped in, twining both arms tightly around Aya to begin the kiss in earnest. Youji felt himself relaxing into the embrace... thinking, this he could deal with, this was good! And Aya's mouth was sweet! All of a sudden, he was seized with the need to crawl into Aya through his mouth if he just could.

Aya, however, was not thinking at all after his impulsive jump into the blue. He was sinking further and further into Youji, wrapping into him and just hanging on. Waves of something like white noise were sweeping through him. He was overwhelmed by Youji's warm mouth, his taste, the bare skin of his back under Aya's hands. And Youji's hands were clutching hard at Aya's shoulders just like in the dream! He was taking over and making things happen that Aya on his own could never do!! He made a faint sound of surrender as Youji began to insinuate one knee between Aya's legs, pressing closer.

Youji suddenly pulled back, a little out of breath, still holding onto Aya's shoulders tightly. Aya's eyes slowly opened to Youji's intense gaze.

"Jeez, Aya...I'm sorry!! You just kiss me and I'm all over you...Can I...do you want ... more than a kiss?" I ask, Youji thought, because I'm an idiot who can't help fucking up something great when it lands in my lap trembling and horny. But, it's Aya! I can't grab like he was just some random kid in a bar...

Aya stared up at Youji, licking his lips slowly. He wondered if he looked as dizzy as he felt. Everything was pretty much perfect. It could be another dream except this Youji was asking, not taking.

"Youji, I haven't kissed anyone in years. I only ever kissed... a couple someone's anyway. When it comes to...sex...I'm not sure of much. Not like you. You seem to know everything...anyway, you always do...in the dreams..."

Aya smiled up at Youji then; a simple, disarmed smile. Youji felt something squeeze in his chest. Closing in on Aya's ear, he smiled in turn and used his best I-want-to-eat-you-alive whisper, "Tell me exactly what I do to you in your dreams..."

Aya put his hands on Youji's chest and tried to push away, looking a little bit frantic. He had officially reached the end of his courage.

"Youji, I don't think I can talk about the details..."

Okay, Youji thought, so that's how it is. That's cool; I'm driving.

He stopped Aya from breaking loose and quickly turned, throwing himself into the armchair, pulling Aya after him. The sudden move forced Aya's arms up onto the chair on either side of Youji's neck and his knees to either side of Youji's. He sat back as far as he could on Youji's knees, frozen. Youji leaned forward, pulling Aya's hands to drape around his neck and dropped a dozen small teasing kisses all over Aya's face from his lips up his cheeks, over his eyes, forcing them to close.

Aya sighed and relaxed further forward into Youji's smiling warmth. He wasn't sure what was going to happen but so far, this was grand. He was dreamily looking down at Youji's glittering eyes looking up at him. God, he was good looking! He realized Youji was talking...

"Ok, then. I'll make you a deal...I'll tell you something from my dream and then you have to tell me something from yours. Ok? Even steven...we'll swap. I really want to tell you and I really want to know. It'll be fun. You'll see."

Aya felt pleasantly trapped. Youji was so matter-of-fact, so at ease with all the things Aya could only blush and stammer over. He nodded briefly.

Youji reached behind them and turned the lamp down. Then he pulled Aya closer still until their chests were almost touching and he could feel Aya's breath on his chin. He tilted his head up, put his lips against Aya's neck and began talking in a low, measured voice.

"My dreams always start in the middle of a kiss. I don't know where we are but we're naked, twisted all around each other, and so hard, and I'm kissing you and you're kissing me and it's hot, and wet and it just goes on and on and it feels so good until I think I'm going to come just from that..."

Youji pulled Aya's mouth onto his then, tongue pushing in and taking over. It was no beginner's kiss this time. His hands flew up to immobilize Aya's head while he touched every part of Aya's mouth, alternately intercepting his breath and sucking at his lips. Aya gripped Youji's neck tighter and began pulling in as he was pushed against. Youji was making small distressed, exciting sounds deep in his chest as he attacked Aya's mouth. Having his legs spread so wide across Youji's lap was making Aya hyperaware of his rapidly hardening dick; it felt huge and swollen and obvious...He broke away from Youji's mouth, gasping. Too fast! Too much! A jolt of pure blinding need like he'd never felt before was crackling up and down his spine scaring the hell out of him with its intensity.

"No you don't...!" Youji used one hand behind Aya's head to force their lips back together while his other hand slid down around Aya's back, pulling until they were finally flush from lips to crotch. Aya groaned right into Youji's mouth when he felt the other man's erection pressing against his own through soft flannel pants. Youji's hands were running up and down Aya's back, rucking his sweater further and further until they finally reached skin. Youji broke away from the kiss with a wild look. He pulled the sweater up and over Aya's head, throwing it across the room. Aya was mesmerized, panting slightly as he stared down at Youji's flushed and gorgeous face. It was Dream Youji, his pupils so dilated with pure pumping adrenaline and lust his eyes hardly looked green at all.

This time, when Youji pulled them back together skin met skin with a wonderful shock. Aya clutched Youji's arms, rubbing mindlessly against him as if he were the cat in this dream. Youji nibbled around Aya's neck, licking and gently tugging with his teeth. Then that plum-rich voice was in Aya's ear, "It's your turn, Aya. Tell me something from your dream..tell me, show me, do it, make me do it...anything you want, baby...You have to talk to me, Aya..."

Without waiting for a reply, he attacked Aya's throat, biting and sucking at the sweet joining of neck and shoulder. Hurts! No, it feels good! God, yes, it does hurt but don't stop! Aya's head was spinning so he laid forward into the embrace, his head hanging just over Youji's shoulder. He could feel his cock thrumming with a pulse that the thunder in his ears only echoed.

He turned his head, closed his eyes and gasped into Youji's ear in a ragged whisper, "What you're doing now...to my neck...you do that to my ... chest...you suck on it...on them, hard, and bite me...and it hurts but it doesn't hurt...it just makes me ...ahhhh!!" Youji dipped his head to Aya's left nipple almost before the words were out. He first swiped a broad, flat tongue over it and then pulled the already stiff little nub into his mouth and began sucking hard... "...ahh, yes...that's it...that's it!! ..." biting gently around the edge, working in to the center , backing up and pulling almost the entire pectoral into his mouth. Aya's smothered gasps of pleasure made the blood pound through Youji's cock; he knew this voice, this taste, this skin! He knew what to do!

Aya could feel what little restraint he had left evaporate. White hot pleasure was racing through his veins. He was in the dream, now, and all things were possible. He began rocking up into Youji, unconsciously at first and then as he felt Youji push back against him, aggressively. Oh, shit, this was good! He'd never been this hard, this frantically, painfully rigid. When Youji switched to the other nipple, Aya grabbed his torturer, holding those lips fast to the burning point of flesh while he threw his head from side to side, panting. He could feel his balls tightening and crawling upwards. He wanted particularly to press them against Youji, hard.

"Yes! Just like that! Ahhh...god, that feels sooo good, Youji!"

Youji pulled back, dazzled, his mouth open and his breath coming faster as he watched Aya. He was leaning back with his eyes closed and just...puuuushing...his crotch against Youji's in a slow, steady, maddening rythym. Youji's hands dropped down to cup Aya's ass and he began pulling and helping, never breaking Aya's own pace. Aya tilted his head back toward Youji's face and opened his unfocused eyes slowly. His hips continued their slow circular rotation and pulse against Youji's. He was breathing as hard as Youji and gasped his words out between gulps of air.

"It's...your...turn...Youji... Open your...beautiful mouth...ohhh...and tell me... something...else..."

Youji shuddered. It was him...Dream Aya, on his lap, writhing and humping him and saying things in That voice.

"Aya, I need to see all of you...Feel all of you..." his voice was just a broken murmur now. The cloud of heat surrounding his head was rapidly wiping out Youji's intention to be deliberate, to seduce. He had never, ever wanted anyone this much. Ever.

He pushed up off the armchair and carried Aya the few steps to the bed, laying him out then pulling his pyjama bottoms smoothly down and off.

Aya lay naked, exposed and excited on Youji's bed and he didn't mind at all. He marveled briefly that he didn't mind and then just enjoyed Youji's greedy gaze running over his bare skin. This should be embarassing, he thought dimly, but that part of his brain seemed to be shut down. How could such burning looks drag trails of goose flesh in their wake? His skin tingled, waiting to be touched as he tried to catch his breath.

One of Aya's hands drifted down to his erection, lazily, lightly rubbing it open-handed while he watched Youji watching him. Look! Youji's cock was twitching and he was making those sounds in his chest again! Youji's openly yearning face told the rest of the tale -- he was lost now, caught by his own seduction. Aya felt like sex incarnate suddenly, and powerful. He squeeeeezed himself, hitching his knees up and whimpering a little, spreading the resulting moisture up and down, slowly, slowly still watching Youji watch him. Aya could see that every stroke of his fist might as well have been on Youji's cock; he was dragging the blond into frenzy with him inch by inch.

Another burst of excitement charged through Aya as Youji rubbed at himself roughly through cloth, following the path of Aya's hand with his starving eyes. Suddenly he yanked at the drawstring and dropped his pants, kicking them out of the way. Aya's hand began moving a little faster up and down his weeping flesh to let Youji hear and see his appreciation. Youji was so well-made; lean, angular, muscular and smoothly golden. His cock was long and elegant, like his limbs.

Aya couldn't tear his eyes away from it as Youji crawled onto the bed, up and over him on all fours. He hovered for a moment and then most deliberately lowered himself onto Aya, who was reaching for him, who was shuddering, who was whining softly at the abandon of body rubbing body and then there was more! Oh, the unexpected pleasure of Youji's weight pinning him, his body covering him! Was everything going to be this good?

Aya sucked in a shocked breath when their groins finally slid together and locked into place. He instinctively began pumping and pushing against Youji's stiff and now slippery shaft; pulled Youji's head down to meet his, their mouths sealing together, tongues working in the same rythym as their hips.

Youji's hands gripped Aya's waist tightly, leveraging every thrust. Each meeting of their flesh was more intense, slicker, smoother and faster. He needed to stop, stop and regroup and take back control but oh, god, they moved against each other like they'd done it forever! He was poised right at the edge of not being able to stop. Gotta stop this...can't keep this up...gonna come too soon...it would be sooo good to come like this, though! Oh, yes, so good to slide his hands down around Aya's ass and pull and pull, just grinding until he shot all over that pale soft skin...

Aya's eyes rolled shut, his hands grabbing for Youji's shoulders as he rose and rose to meet him. Youji realized he was whispering frantically between heaving breaths.

"Ohhh...its my turn to say something...I can't think, Youji, I can't think. I can't think..."

Youji pulled his mouth away from Aya's, lowering his head, licking and groaning against sweat slicked skin.

"That's okay, baby...I don't wanna talk anymore...I want to fuck you, Aya...I'm too close...I want you too bad...I've got to fuck you now, Aya...Let me fuck you..."

"God, yes, Youji! Do it! Do it now..ohh, fuck do it ..." Hearing Youji repeat his dream-bound begging almost threw Aya right over the edge into coming. He stopped moving, eyes closed, grasping for control and all he could see was Youji squirming on their couch, captured by Aya then as surely as he had him now. He could feel his orgasm gathering and pushing and demanding. Not yet...not yet...not yet...

"Youji! Hurry!"

Youji launched himself off Aya...it was move fast or don't move at all and then it would be too late. He found lube somehow, wasted half of it over his right hand...then he was between Aya's legs, pushing him wide, groping his dick, wanting to stop there but just squeezing briefly, one tight hard pump up and one down then continuing his slicked descent...grasping at tight balls, pulling them down, pushing them back up again slowly with the flat of his palm..ah, too good, he's hairless!...wanna taste that...not now, not this time...feeling around up behind them for the small, tight...oh fuck, there, there! Oh, shit, yeah, I have to be in you, be in there! Youji's shoulder pressed Aya's leg up now, freeing his left hand to push down and grab his own straining cock and work it ...he had to get in now...it had to be now...

Aya was moaning continuously, mouth open, head thrown back, his hands alternately grabbing at Youji's shoulders and twisting in the blankets, pulling. He couldn't believe he was still holding it back...he was going to come if Youji touched his balls like that just once more...he was going to lose it. Then, two slick fingers pushed slowly up and up into him and the surprise stopped him. There was no pain. No pain...just a maddening tugging itching stretching burning feeling that made him push down, down onto the teasing hand harder...why didn't this hurt? This is supposed to hurt...ungh, god, no that's not pain! Oh fuck, that has to be...

"Youji, yesss...there! Oh, harder, push harder...that's it..oh, fuuuuck that's good...Oh, Youji, wait no, no wait ... you're going to make me come...stop...no .. I want to ..I want to... you have to fuck me now...do it, fuck me...please, Youji, please now..." Aya was all but sobbing and scrabbling at Youji's shoulders, trying not to press down, down on those teasing fingers and fly out of control.

"Oh yeah, it's now, Aya, gotta be now. I'm dyin' here...Shit, Aya, please tell me you've done this before!"

"Every goddamned night for the past five nights right next door! Youji, please...!"

Then Youji was pushing up and over, pressing Aya's legs out and up, roughly pumping on the rest of the lube, guiding himself in...and next, pain! ... tight wet velvet silk fire gripping him so hard he has to freeze, stop, can't push further but he does and then...flush against Aya's body, oh goddamn, inside Aya, completely inside Aya. His eyes open and Aya peers up at him steadily, pretty sad eyes, hectic pink cheeks, mouth soft and slack, panting, panting softly and making noises that promise more noises...soft broken sobs, gasps and half-breathed commands and prayers...move Youji, oh, please move Youji...

Flushed omigod so beautiful better than the dream...strands of blood red hair sweat plastered kiss curls begging eyes rocking rocking hips against me and now... I can move must move must keep moving... more... again ogod killing me here... make more of those sounds ah, fuck! ...now out further and back in hard, hard do you want it harder? yessss hard... as you can... ah, Youji! make me ... take it... is it good oh, damn yes it's good yessssss ...tell me..talk to me...Youji, Youji...fuck me...make me come...take yours...push up on both arms and back up pump long slow long slow long slow deeper ...push all the way... that's the spot, oh yeah gotta go faster... faster now... have to get his cock have to touch his cock want his cock in my hand mine...ahh, yes, rub hard...hard and tight you can't hurt me... yeah legs wrap around pulling hard sucking oh man... fuck! Aya, wanna get to the other side of you! oh goddamn, love you baby...love you so much...want you...oh, no crying ...don't ... its good yes...yah, you're coming ... its coming ahhh...god, Aya, let me hear you, let me hear you you're coming oh shit feel it ...on my hand ...my chest ...on my dick god he's coming Aya I have to ...Aya I have to ...nghhh...Aya oh shit baby yes...Ayaaaa

Complete blissful ruination, total nerve overload and one painfully brief glimpse of eternity.

The collapsed heap resolved into two men again; the shorter curled comfortably and gratefully into the taller; the taller wrapped comfortably and possessively around the shorter.

Youji pulled the bedspread up and over them. Aya was breathing softly and evenly, drifting off and Youji knew they'd rest dreamlessly and well.

Looking down at his beautiful, sleepy friend and lover Youji felt a calm conviction of rightness. Dark beasts and endless revenge, blood and pain and loss were on the other side of a powerful barrier they had just built together. It might only last this night but it was still worth everything to have had it.

"So...'every night for the past five nights', huh?" murmured Youji's still small voice. "Funny. You've been at it for two weeks now..."

Whatever. Shut up. Who gives a shit now.

The only important thing now was this tousled red head on his shoulder with no two hairs pointing in the same direction, momiage shoved impatiently back making the ears stick out interestingly.

"I love this fucking hairdo..Gotta get a picture..." murmured softly with a kiss pressed to a pale forehead.

"In your dreams, Kudou."

End