Disclaimer: I do not own any of the WK characters or names. This fic is a little sappy, a little angsty, a little dramatic... a little bit of everything that Yoji and Omi would have to go through in a real relationship. Please enjoy reading this fic!

Sweet Summer Nights: Part One

Omi hummed distantly to himself as he sent a fine spray of mist into a pot of magenta hibiscus. Their petals shimmered with tiny drops of moisture, creating miniature rainbows of color. Their soil darkened to a rich black as it soaked up the liquid with a thirsty vigor.

“Thirsty were you?” Omi asked the plant as he affectionately ruffled its dark pink petals. He smiled and continued to hum.

He alternated around the store, spraying room-temperature water into each pot. It made him feel all cozy inside to care for the flowers, as if he was giving life to something that needed his care. Unlike the people he killed. Taking life and giving it was so different in its reality that sometimes it shook his giant heart to think about it.

He looked up as someone approached him. “Oh, hey Yoji,” he said. “You decided to show up for work today?” His tone was slightly teasing.

Yoji gave him one of his lazy smiles. “If only to please you.”

Omi knew that the man was only joking, but it still caused him to blush. “You can start by arranging these orders.” He handed the other man a paper with a long list of names, addresses, and orders written on it.

“Any eligible girls?” he asked, scanning the paper over the rim of his sunglasses.

“I don’t know.” Omi shrugged and turned to spill a generous amount of water into a pot of dicentra. *Always chasing the women, huh Yoji?* Smiling to himself, he continued his rounds with the hose.

Yoji watched the boy walk away with a grin plastered on his handsome face. He knew it annoyed Omi when he flirted with the girls while on the job. For some reason, it only seemed to make him want to do it even more. If only to get that beguiling look from the boy’s big sapphire eyes. He pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose with a long, slender index finger. “Ah, Omi. You’re just too innocent for your own good.”

Aya helped Yoji fill the orders out. He placed a single white rose into a slim glass vase and set it aside, attaching a small notecard onto it with the words “I Love You” printed on it in fancy letters. His thickly gloved hands took care of the thorns, stripping them off another dozen roses before wrapping them in translucent pink cellophane. He tied a bright green bow around the package and also set it aside.

“You’re getting good at that,” said Omi as he watched the red head work.

Icy violet eyes rose from their work to look into the boy’s shining blue orbs. “I should be. I do it nearly every day.” He gave Yoji an accusing glare.

Yoji took the burning gaze lightly. “Sorry if I actually have some dates. At least I have things to do other than sit here and play with these damned flowers.”

Omi placed a tiny hand on one petite hip. “You complain too much. And I happen to enjoy the shop. Giving life to plants is much better than killing.”

Yoji arched one brow. “I didn’t know you felt that way. I’m sorry.”

Omi visibly faltered. An apology from the man was something rare indeed. “Um... It’s okay. I didn’t mean to insult you or anything.”

“You didn’t.” He smiled.

The boy felt his heart skip a beat. His cheeks burned with a scarlet blush, and he walked away quickly in order to hide it.

Aya suppressed a smirk, which wasn’t a difficult task. “You play with him too much.”

“Huh?” Yoji said distantly as he picked a dead leaf from the stem of a carnation.

“You play with him too much. Be serious sometimes.”

Yoji stared at his comrade for a long moment before looking away. “What do you mean?”

“He looks up to you. If you keep teasing him the way you do, he may begin to doubt himself. Give him a compliment every now and then.”

“Who are you to be giving me advice? Maybe you should thinking about taking your own. You know, Ken thinks you’re a god or something.” Was that a blush he saw creeping into Aya’s cheeks?

“Ken and I aren’t the issue being discussed here.” He shoved a small pile of thank you cards aside as he readied to de-thorn another dozen roses.

“Did I just find a sensitive spot?” he joked, leaning over the table to look into those cold purple eyes. “Aya, I do believe you’re blushing.” His chuckles filled the air suddenly. “I knew it!”

“What do you think you knew?” His slicing hot gaze would have frightened any lesser man.

“Hmmm...” Yoji said, resting his chin on the backs of his hands and watching his ruby-maned comrade over the rim of his shades. “I see the way Ken looks at you. I don’t know if you’re aware of it, but there’s something more than friendship there. Being as cold as you are, you’ve probably mistaken it for hero worship. But I think it goes much farther than that.”

Aya visibly bristled. “I didn’t know you were delusional.”

Yoji’s laugh rang through the shop. “I’m more sane than ever!” he joked seriously, crossing his eyes. His glasses were somewhat transparent, giving away his actions.

“You are impossible.” Aya almost smiled. Almost. He shook his head.

It was right then that Ken decided to make his appearance. He wore a pair of jeans that were tight around the waist and baggy on the legs. A T- shirt had been thrown carelessly over his torso, its color a bright baby blue. “Hey you guys,” he said as he sat down and put on a pair of gloves on in order to help strip stems.

Aya blanched.

Yoji laughed again, placing a hand over his stomach. He laughed so hard it hurt. “Hoo! I think I’ll go help Omi tend to the flowers.” His sniggers died away, and he hiccuped.

“What was that all about?” Ken asked his secret crush as he took a sip from the orange juice that he brought with him.

Aya narrowed his eyes. “Nothing.”

The dark-haired boy shrugged and smiled.

Omi bent over, studying the leaves of a small clump of flowers. He thought he had seen a caterpillar chewing on the foliage, but he couldn’t be sure. Then he spotted it. He reached out to catch it.

He suddenly jerked upright as someone pinched his backside.

“Aaaiiih!” he screamed, fist raising to punch whoever had just dared to touch him in such an intimate spot. His fist stopped when he turned and saw the man’s smirking face.

“Yoji!” he cried angrily, face and neck as red as ever. He had never been so embarrassed in all his life. “What the hell!?”

“Such horrid language,” he chided, clucking his tongue. “It was an irresistible target.”

“Y-you are impossible!” he stammered nervously, rubbing the burning spot on his little ass.

“I’ve heard that one before.”

“Obviously not enough.” He glared at the man.

Yoji feigned a pout. “Come on, Omi. I was just playing.”

“I guess you’re forgiven, although I can’t see why I should give a lazy oaf like you my mercy.” He wanted to catch that little caterpillar before it could get away, but he didn’t dare bend over again with the man standing right there. “Turn around.”

“Why?” Yoji teased.

“Just do it!” he yelled desperately.

With a shrug, he did as the boy demanded.

Omi carefully reached down and plucked the leaf-eater from its perch. He straightened his back and let the little, pale green creature crawl over his hand. Giggling, he watched it skitter around his palm.

“Oh, how kawaii!” Yoji squealed like a school girl.

Omi tossed a biting glare his way.

“Seriously, it is cute.” He held back a smile of admiration and affection as the boy stroked its slightly fuzzed back with a very gentle finger tip. “May I?”

“Of course!” He seemed more than happy to oblige and share his interest. He watched Yoji as he let the insect crawl its way sluggishly into his finely boned hand.

“Was it eating a flower?” he asked.

Omi sighed. “Yeah. We’ll have to watch out for them.”

“Hey, Omi?” He smiled faintly as the creature’s legs tickled their way up his wrist.


“I... don’t have a date for tonight, and I was wondering if...” He balked, realizing that he was nervous. *What the fuck? I’m never nervous!* “I was wondering if you’d like to come up and have dinner or something. I’d rather spend the evening with a friend than alone.”

Omi’s brows rose in sudden surprise. “Why, of course Yoji. I’d love to come over, if only to please you.” He returned the joke that Yoji had used on him earlier that day. His smile was completely priceless.

“Sugoi. See you around six, then?”

“Sure.” He watched Yoji walk away with a jovial expression.


Yoji added the angel hair pasta to the pot of boiling water and stirred it swiftly, pouring in a spoonful of olive oil to keep the noodles from clumping together. Spaghetti was one of the only things he knew how to cook, but it was delicious. He chopped some onions into a fine dusting and added them to the sauce with some minced garlic. Heavenly aromas wafted from the minuscule kitchenette and into the hallway.

Omi paused on the stairs to smell it on his way up to his room. It was still half an hour until he had to meet Yoji for dinner. His stomach growled, threatening to consume his spine if he didn’t feed it soon. “It’s okay little buddy,” he soothed, patting it twice. “If the food is as good as it smells, you’ll get fed soon enough.”

He sat down with a huff in his computer chair as he entered the main room. His legs and back hurt from working all day on his feet. He had janitor’s shift this evening. Of course Ken offered to help, but he had declined. As usual.

He decided to take a quick shower and dress a little better before he went to meet Yoji. He realized that he was a bit more excited than he had thought.

Humming to himself, he got in the shower and lathered his hair generously with a cherry-scented shampoo. He loved everything that had to do with cherries. Their scent, their taste, and even their color. Of course, he liked chocolate to a great extent, but cherries were even better.

He toweled himself dry and selected some clean clothes. The thick, cerulean blue T-shirt smelled deliciously fresh as he slipped it over his head, and the khaki shorts felt very comfortable. Feeling fresh and clean, he made his way to Yoji’s small apartment.

The man opened the door almost immediately. He was out of breath, as if he had been running. “Oh, hey Omi! Right on time. Damn garlic bread almost burned.” He smirked. “But with a little scraping it should all be just fine!”

Omi couldn’t help laughing as he was led into the cramped apartment. It may have been small, but casual tones of beige, jade green, and violet caused it to look much larger than it actually was. Everything was clean and orderly, something Omi had not expected. “It looks nice,” he said almost sheepishly.

“Have to keep it looking nice if I’m gonna invite girls up.” His smile was flirtatious. “Don’t want them to get turned off just because of a little mess.”

“If messes turned them off, they wouldn’t have gone out with you in the first place.” Omi tormented him.

Yoji grinned. “Is that so?”

He shrugged and sat down on the couch, sinking into the soft white cushions. “I must admit that I didn’t expect it.”

“You belittle me so harshly.” He sat down beside him, rather close. “The dessert should be out of the oven in about five minutes. Then we can eat.”

As if to answer the statement, the boy’s stomach let out a deep growl.

Yoji laughed as Omi blushed with unease. “At least someone will eat my cooking tonight. The women seem to always want to skip the meal for some reason.”

His blush deepened considerably. He wondered briefly if Yoji had been having sex on this very couch. *Eew! That is so gross!* he yelled mentally at himself. “Could I... have something to drink?” His throat was suddenly dry.

“Of course. You need only to ask!” He poured some wine into a crystal glass.

Omi guzzled it, relishing the pleasant burning in his throat as it moved down.

“Do you drink often?” Yoji asked, brows furrowing.

“No. Just every once in a while.” He looked at the dark red liquid. “It’s good.”

“Of course it is. Only the best for little Omi-chan.” He reached over to pinch the boy’s rounded face.

“Hey! Stop it!” he said, trying unsuccessfully to put anger in his tone.

“You know you like it,” he whispered seductively, toying with the boy.

Omi’s whole body turned red. “GET OFF!” He pushed Yoji away from him, and realized that he was trembling with nervousness.

Yoji noticed as well. “I’m sorry, Omi-chan. I was just playing around. Being an ‘oaf’ as you so affectionately call me.” His handsome face lit up as the oven timer went off. “Ah! Time to eat!”

Omi went and sat at the bantam table, which had been placed between the kitchen and living room. It was set with a bowl of salad, a heaping plate of still steaming spaghetti, and slightly blackened garlic bread. His mouth watered until he thought he would drool.

Yoji carried in two giant slices of chocolate cake on saucers and set them on the table. “You had better be hungry.”

“That’s an understatement. I’m famished!” He sprinkled a bit of pepper and poured the grated cheese on his spaghetti, then glazed his salad with ranch dressing.

“Enjoy. If you’re still hungry, there’s plenty more where that came from.” He twisted a spool of noodles around his fork and brought it elegantly to his lips.

Omi slurped a giant forkful of it, letting it hang from his lips like a saucy waterfall. Sucking hard, he got the whole mountain of it into his mouth. “Mmm! That’s really good!” he said through a mouthful.

Yoji suppressed his guffaws behind a napkin. *He is so cute. I wonder if he knows how damn adorable he is.* He poured the boy some wine, but only a little. Didn’t want him getting drunk. “I’m glad you approve.”

All he received was a nod in reply.

Omi finished his second helping before Yoji was even halfway through with his first. “Are you going to have room for dessert?” he asked incredulously.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Yoji shrugged. After the cake, they went onto the balcony to rest, hunger sated.

Bringing out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, Yoji lit one and drew his breath in deeply. The smoke entered his lungs and filled them with the familiar hazy feeling. He exhaled, sending a bluish gray cloud hovering in the night air. “That’s good after a big meal,” he said to himself as the taste of smoke and tobacco lingered on his tongue.

Omi watched him longingly. Yoji was such a sexy man, graceful even in the way he smoked a mere cigarette. No wonder women found him so attractive. The boy found himself wondering what it was like to make love with such a beautiful man. He sighed, his virgin mind reeling in shock at his own passion. *I must be sick, thinking that way about a man.*

“Hey, Omi. You okay?” he asked, taking the last draw from his cigarette and tossing it over the railing. “You look a little out of it.”

“Oh, um, yeah. I’m fine.” His cheeks flushed and he turned his face away, unable to meet the man’s exotic green eyes. “I’m just sore. Janitor duty tonight.” It wasn’t a complaint, only an excuse for his tired appearance.

“Oh.” Yoji took out another cigarette and lit it.

Omi approached him slowly and stood beside him. “May I?”

“May you what?”

“Could I have a hit off your cigarette?”

He arched one brow in thorough surprise. “Sure. Hit all you want.”

Omi put the object between his lips and sucked in a deep breath. He exhaled the smoke in Yoji’s face to tease him. “Shocked, are you?”

“Appalled.” His mouth nearly hung open. “When did you learn to smoke?”

“It was never a habit. Just something to do when I don’t want to think.”

“Really? What is it you don’t want to think about?” Yoji’s body moved closer to him until he could feel the warmth emanating from it.

The boy laughed nervously. “Nothing, really. I just thought I’d shock you, that’s all.” *If he only knew the thoughts that just went through my head. He would be so disgusted with me.*

“Ah...” he let his voice trail off as he watched the boy puff idly on the cigarette.

He handed it back to Yoji, feeling a slight buzz. He leaned a bit, dizzy.

“Buzzing, Omi-chan?” He smirked and placed a hand at the small of his comrade’s back to support him. “The bad thing about cigarettes is that their buzz only lasts a minute.”

“Yeah.” He felt like he was going to vomit.

“Um... Omi-chan? Your face is turning green.”

“There aren’t any drugs in that, are there?”

“None, besides nicotine.” He took the boy by the hands and helped him walk into the main room, where he set him gently on the couch. “Sometimes you can get sick smoking after drinking alcohol. The light- headedness should go away in a few minutes.” *He’s so innocent. So delicate. He needs someone to protect him.*

“Thanks.” He was ashamed of his predicament. *I just had to try and look cool, didn’t I? I can be such a fool sometimes.* “I’ll be okay.”

“Of course you will.” He brushed strawberry bangs out of sapphire eyes.

Omi stilled instantly at the touch. “Yoji-kun?”


He looked up at Yoji. “Thank you for inviting me to dinner. I... don’t have many friends.”

Yoji’s green eyes darkened with sympathy. “I’m more than happy to have you. You make good company. Better than most women.”


“I mean it.”

Omi’s smile was one of pure delight. “I thought nothing could outdo your women.”

“My women aren’t as important to me as everyone seems to think. They’re all just replacements for the loneliness I feel at night. I don’t like to sleep alone.” He looked down at his hands, which he clasped in his lap.

“What do you mean by replacements?”

“I mean that I don’t really care about these women. Of course they’re all nice, and I don’t lie to them when I say that I’ve had a good time, but I don’t really have feelings for them either. Sometimes we don’t even have sex, I just ask them to sleep with me so I won’t have to be alone.”

Omi looked his companion sadly. “But it doesn’t help, does it?”

Yoji shook his head. “Not usually. I guess they can’t supply what I need in my heart. They can only give me physical release.”

“Yoji...” he whispered, wanting to comfort him. He wrapped him in a tight hug.

Yoji laughed and returned the embrace. “You always knew how to hug just right, little Omi-chan.”

“Hugs always make people feel better.” He smiled brightly. It could have melted the sun. His face suddenly twisted with pain as his back muscles stretched. “Darn mops. Staying bent over so long will really do a number on one’s back.”

“Back hurting?” He reluctantly let Omi go.

“Just a little. Nothing serious.”

Yoji ran his long fingers down the boy’s back through the thick material of his shirt. “Need a massage? I’ve been told that I’m pretty good at it.”

Omi blanched at the thought. “I’m not sure...”

“I don’t bite.”

“How am I supposed to know that?”

Yoji grinned evilly. “Why don’t you find out?”

Omi’s breath quickened before he realized it. He found himself growing very warm in places he would have liked to ignore. Swallowing hard, he faced Yoji, praying that his blush would not be noticed. “Okay. But pull anything weird like you did this morning, and I’ll...”

“Is that a threat, little Omi-chan?” he whispered in the boy’s ear. He slipped his hands under the cerulean shirt and kneaded his spine with dexterous fingers, working out the tension gently.

His breath caught sharply as he was swept into a whirlwind of pleasure. He leaned back into the touch. “Yes, Yoji. Right there,” he said as the man massaged a bunched up muscle.

“Is that where you like it?” He pressed harder, stroking the unbelievably smooth skin. “Tell me where you need it.”

Omi closed his eyes and moaned as his muscles were massaged with a surprising expertise. “That’s good.”

Yoji found himself doing everything in his power to please the boy. Every ounce of skill he owned was poured into his efforts. “Take off your shirt?” At his nod, he removed the item of clothing with tender care.

He looked over Omi’s unmarked back, taking in the sight of the creamy skin. It shone in the dim overhead light. He placed his hands on both of the boy’s small shoulders and began to kneed them with abandon, running his thumbs up and down Omi’s slender neck.

“Ahhh...” he groaned, tilting his head back.

He went lower slowly, taking his time working out each and every knot. “You smell nice. Like cherries,” he remarked. “I love cherries.”

Omi smiled distantly to himself. “Oh yeah? Me too.” His voice was no more than a whisper.

Suppressing the urge to chuckle, Yoji let his fingers slide around to caress the boy’s ribs. “Do these hurt too?”

His eyes suddenly flew open. “Yoji, don’t!”

“Too late!” He jabbed the small ribs gently. Omi screamed and cried, laughing as he was tickled. His body trembled uncontrollably, and they fell to the floor in a jumbled heap of legs and arms. Yoji never ceased his reign of terror. He tickled the boy until tears of agony streamed down his face.

“You... creep!” he yelled between gouts of laughter. “I’ll get...you... for... this Kuduo Yoji!”

“Oh?” He seemed unaffected by the threat. “Why Omi-chan, I didn’t know you were one to threaten your friend’s life.”

“GET... OFF!” he screamed for the second time that evening.

Yoji finally stopped tickling him, showing him an act of mercy.

He stood and wiped the tears from his cheeks. He still giggled, as if he couldn’t stop. “Well, I was relaxed.”

“I enjoyed it more than you, I’m sure.”

Sapphire eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Which part?”

The man smiled idly and crossed his arms, leaning back into the couch. “Both.”

“Well, I’d better get to sleep. Saturday is our most busy day, you know.” He picked his shirt off the floor and turned to head out the door. “I had fun. Except for the tickling.”

“Me too. Even the tickling.”

Omi unconsciously blushed. He had a bad habit of doing that. “Do you... have a date tomorrow?”

Yoji’s lips curved in a wide grin. “Nope.”

“Then could you... um... come over to my room for dinner? I can’t cook, but we can order something. We could watch a movie... or something.”

“Omi, I would be honored.”

He looked up from the floor to meet serious jade eyes. “Sugoi! Goodnight!”

“Goodnight, Omi.”

He watched the boy leave and waited until he heard his door close to pick up the phone. He had some dates to cancel.

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