Weiss Kruez babble

Here's a bit of text i wrote when i was doing the Weiss kruez Doujinshi 'Last Dance'.

And here's a Weiss Kruez one



Sunlight slanted in through the blinds of Yoji’s bedroom, catching dust motes in the act of their eternal dance. Yoji blinked in drowsy content, encased in the soft comfort of goose down, expensive sheets and the exquisitely fine feel of Aya’s skin. They lay in a sprawl of relaxed limbs, peaceful and languid in the innocence of morning.

Last night had been decadent. Yoji had been . . . creative. Aya had been game, having the tendency to give himself over to Yoji’s lead in sexual matters, as if when he gave Yoji the reins, he couldn’t be blamed for any of the deviance that followed. He took no less pleasure from it than Yoji did, though. Yoji made damned sure of that. There was nothing taken that was not given back twofold in return, Yoji being nothing if not a generous lover.

Which was probably why Aya was still asleep when he was usually up hours before Yoji’s body even took the vague notion of rousing. It had been an energetic night.

Yoji smiled, leaning in to brush his cheek against Aya’s smooth shoulder. He laid a kiss on the apex, allowing his tongue to flicker against skin and taste the faint salt of dried sweat mixed with the mild shadow of coconut and fruit from scented body oil. His eyes fell on the blush of a mark of his making at the juncture of Aya’s neck and shoulder. He winced, predicting he would catch hell for leaving a love bite in such a visible spot. It would limit Aya’s wardrobe to high-necked pullovers for the next few days, Aya having the tendency not to want to broadcast their intimate activities to the world at large.

Yoji remembered making it though, and a smile of some satisfaction crossed his lips. Aya hadn’t protested at the time, unless one wished to count seductive, breathy moans of pleasure protest.

He ran a hand under the sheet to parts of Aya’s body that he couldn’t see and tried to recall if he’d left his mark anywhere else. Aya simply marked too easily, with his soft, pale skin. The texture of his flesh was undeniably alluring, silk smooth and supple. Yoji could hardly be blamed for wanting to devour him. Most certainly no blame could reasonably be placed when Aya encouraged it.

He thought there just might be a mark on Aya’s inner thigh. The right one, if he wasn’t mistaken. Aya wouldn’t mind that one so much, his chances of going out in public bare-thighed relatively low on the scale of probability. Yoji slid his hand past Aya’s sleeping cock, fingers brushing the soft sack of his balls and ghosting down to the warm skin of his inner thigh, rubbing the place he thought the mark might be. Aya sighed, shifting his head a little, soft lips parting, relaxed enough in Yoji’s bed, surrounded by Yoji’s smell and Yoji’s presence, not to wake at the feather soft caress.

That was no small thing, no small admittance, however subtle on Aya’s part, of the depths of trust he must have felt to allow himself such a relaxing of internal defenses. To say Aya was a light sleeper was an understatement of tremendous proportions. Deep sleep was not a luxury a man in their trade could always afford. And Aya more than most of them had internal demons that plagued his sub-conscience to the point that sometimes a light breeze outside his window would have him awake and alert.

That Yoji could touch Aya while he slept unhindered gave him the most delicious feeling of satisfaction . . . of sheer, overwhelming affection. He sighed, shifting closer to share Aya’s pillow, inhaling the fragrance of Aya’s hair, tickling his nose on errant strands of the silky stuff. He could just see the clock over Aya’s profile.

11:22. Aya would have kittens having let himself sleep so late. Not that they had anything more pressing to occupy themselves, other than taking advantage of Yoji’s expensive tastes in bedding. There was no mission in the works, no pressing personal business to take care of. No particular project either one of them had undertaken of late to while away the downtime.

The house was quiet outside his bedroom door, which probably meant Ken and Omi had taken off already, out to enjoy what appeared from the intensity of light coming in through Yoji’s blinds, to be a fine, sunny day. Yoji felt no particular guilt in wasting it in bed. The only crime would be not to enjoy the charms of his bedmate. Feeling particularly law-abiding, Yoji shifted a knee up to rest across Aya’s thighs, the top of his leg brushing the soft underside of Aya’s balls. He let his hand travel under the sheet.

Aya made a sleepy sound, finally drawn out of slumber by Yoji’s lack of it. Sleep-softened, violet eyes blinked at Yoji from a span of about six inches.

“Good morning, baby.” Yoji smiled, fingers idly circling Aya’s navel.

Aya blinked again, gaze rolling up to take in the angle and brightness of the light fighting its way past the blinds.

“Can it still be called that?”

“What? Morning? Sure. You’ve still got time before you can technically be thrown in with the lazy lot of us that habitually sleep past noon.”

Aya’s lashes flickered down. A smile curved his lips. Yoji couldn’t resist it, both the rarity of such an honest smile or the sweet curve of Aya’s lips relaxed in drowsiness and humor. He leaned over and kissed him and Aya sighed and parted his lips, kissing him back, the whole of it lazy and slow and entirely delightful. Yoji’s morning erection . . . well, the second one, for he was almost certain that one had come and gone before he’d fully woken, in accompaniment of some lusty and lurid dream . . . demanded acknowledgment. He rubbed it up against Aya’s hip, grinding his body close just so Aya might perfectly understand that Yoji was up for a bit of almost afternoon sex.

Aya’s hand slid up behind Yoji’s neck, fingers curling in his hair, nails gently massaging his scalp. A gradual tenting of the sheet across Aya’s lower body suggested that he wasn’t adverse to Yoji’s intentions. Yoji’s fingers unerringly found the fevered shaft. Aya gasped into his mouth as he gently squeezed, then proceeded to work a bit of five fingered magic under the sheet, all the while slowly rubbing himself against Aya’s hip.

He pressed his face into Aya’s neck, inhaling the scent of him, feeling the thud of his pulse, absorbing the heat of his skin. Aya’s fingers kneaded his hair, and trapped on his back as he was, with Yoji’s leg over his thighs the range of movement for his other hand was limited in reaching the parts of Yoji that Yoji would have most liked for him to reach. His fingertips grazed Yoji’s side, ghosted across his ribs, then traveled down his working arm to join Yoji’s hand on his own cock.

“Harder, Yoji.” He breathed, fingers tightening around Yoji’s and Yoji complied, gaining a shaky gasp and a groan for his efforts. He pumped faster, and Aya slipped his hand down to cup his balls. Aya’s body tightened, back arching off the bed as his cock leapt in Yoji’s hand, milky culmination spewing from its head. The sounds that came from Aya’s throat made Yoji crazy. He humped Aya’s hip with renewed vigor, hand still clutching Aya’s softening cock, and came with mind numbing intensity against Aya’s side.

They both fell lax, trembling minutely, enjoying the aftermath of even such simple pleasures as a hand-job and a dry hump. Yoji grinned into Aya’s shoulder. Aya shifted a little restlessly, stomach and side coated with both their leavings. Aya’s neat-freak tendencies did not allow him to lie placidly in a bed covered in come.

“So. Shower? Breakfast? Or should we stay in bed and fool around some more?” Yoji levered himself up on an elbow and smiled down.

Aya arched a brow. “Breakfast? Lunch, you mean. Shower first though.”

Yoji leaned down kissed the tip of Aya’s nose. “Okay, shower first. But then I’m walking down to the corner market. I’m in the mood for something sweet. Donuts, I think. Yeah, donuts for sure.”

Aya rolled his eyes good naturedly, and pushed Yoji towards the edge of the bed. “If powdered sugar and cake makes you happy, then by all means . . . “

“I’ll get you something appropriately healthy.” Yoji laughed and headed naked for the shower down the hall.


It was pleasantly nice to have the house to themselves for a change. Distractingly languorous to dally in the shower with Aya and then to pad down the hall naked to his room, grinning over his shoulder at a more decorous Aya who shook his head fondly and retreated with towel around hips to his own room to find fresh clothes.

Their present address being out the outskirts of a college campus and smack dab in the center of a college town, there were deli’s and pubs and small restaurants on every street corner. Thrift stores abounded. As did record stores, booksellers, chic clothing outlets. There was a quaint little occult shop at the end of their street that focused more on incense and gothic decor than anything mystical. One street over the residential buildings dwindled and the sidewalks were lined with an interesting little selection of sole proprietorships that made their livings off the eccentricities of college age customers. Yoji’s favorite deli/market was one block down and one street over. He figured he could make it there and back before Aya had his water brewed for tea and then if they were lucky, Ken and Omi would find something immensely time consuming to occupy themselves outside the house for the remainder of the afternoon. Yoji was already entertaining pleasant thoughts of languid, uninterrupted sex on the living room couch. His fantasy did not include the fast talking it would take to get Aya to consent to it right there out in the open where Ken and Omi might unexpectedly walk in through the front door and find them. Yoji was up for the thrill that came with the possibility of discovery. Aya wasn’t quite so much of a dare devil in his sexual escapades. At least when it came to public disclosure.