Everything stays frozen for a short horrified eternity.

Aya sprawls where I pushed him, face down. Even that way he looks like a piece of art; my fingers twitch, remembering how it felt to caress his back, tracing skin and scars.

I can't believe what I just saw.

Slowly he pushes himself up to sit on the edge of the bed. Keeping his back to me, he grabs his pants from the floor and pulls them on. Actually I think those are my pants.

Was he - lying to me, about all this? Claiming a dream rapist instead of a dream lover? What for? So I'd...

Earth to Kudou. He wasn't faking falling apart; everything else is secondary.

As Aya stands up I roll off the bed and move to block the door. "Aya, wait."

"Get out of my way." He's looking at the ground, disheveled hair hiding half his face. The tone of his voice promises broken bones at least.

"I can explain -" On pure instinct I drop to the ground as his fist hits the door where my head was. That punch wasn't pulled; the thud seems to echo through the walls, much much too loudly. We both freeze.

Aya glares down at me, rubbing his knuckles, and I glare right back. "Shhhh! Geez!", I hiss. "Let me explain, would you? It was Schuldich!"

If anything his eyes narrow further, to little violet slits. "Liar."

"Why the hell would I lie to you about-" I break off at the same moment Aya waves me to silence. We listen for noise in the hall, for the inevitable voice.

"Youji-kun? Are you all right? I heard a thump."

"Yeah, I'm fine, kid, sorry to wake you. Just fell out of bed." And I'm sitting right up against the door because...I feel like it.

"Is Aya," Omi stops to yawn, "in there with you?"

Twenty-three is too young for cardiac arrest. Desperately I try to sound casual. "Uh, why?"

Without meaning to I glance up at him. Aya's still standing over me with fists clenched; he doesn't look the slightest bit panicked. More like he wants to rip my throat out. Sure, lo- Fujimiya, that'll solve your problems.

Omi yawns again. "You said you were researching Schwarz. What happened?" Suddenly his voice doesn't sound so sleepy anymore. "Is this another scam to get out of morning shift?"

Frantically I wave my hand at Aya - say something! "Of course not! We've just been," busy, "reading reports. S'boring. Go back to sleep."

Aya glares at me a moment more, then finally snorts in disgust. "Go back to bed, Omi," he says authoritatively. "We'll tell you in the morning." Pause. "Wake Kudou up at ten anyway."

Bastard.

"Fine," Omi sighs. We hear him shuffling back down the hall. "Just be quieter, okay?"

I sigh in relief, leaning back against the door. "That kid's _too_ smart. Bet you Ken's still sound asleep, though."

Aya puts his hand on the doorknob. "Move."

"Wait." Looking up at him gives me a view the local schoolgirls would die for: long legs in my spare pajama pants, pale muscled torso with nipples still red from my mouth, face pretty enough to make you wonder. Even through the loose black fabric I can see he's not hard anymore.

I could let him leave. And he'd be worse off than he was at the start of this insane evening.

His foot twitches impatiently, ready to kick me out of the way. Time to talk fast. "Aya, why do you think I'd lie to you? I only know what I saw."

"Because he - it only happens when I'm asleep," Aya snaps. He turns the doorknob, uselessly.

"Um," I point out, "you already know that's not true. Omi was attacked in broad daylight on the street. If Schuldich could get into his head then, why not mine now? Or," the thought hits me, "maybe it was some kind of booby trap for anyone who got too close to you. Not a real vision at all." I like that idea.

The notion that he's not safe when awake rattles Aya considerably, I can tell. His other hand clenches into a fist. "A vision." Flat, toneless. "A trap."

"Yeah, unless you really were cooperating and enjoying it." I meet his eyes. "I'm sorry for reacting like that. It was a dumb thing to do. But that guy's got a bent imagination, not that..." The slowly dawning horror in his eyes makes me trail off.

"You did enjoy it," I say weakly.

Aya tries to yank open the door, and almost succeeds. I get my feet braced just in time. "Shh! Look, that's your business not mine. But we still have a problem here and you're not going to solve it by running away."

Sleeping with the enemy is lethal whether you enjoy it or not. And something's clearly wrong or he wouldn't be losing his grip like this.

"Don't bother." Letting go of the doorknob, he looks down at me coldly. "You think I'm disgusting. Obscene."

I think you're trying not to cry, Aya.

Damn it. "No, I don't," I say as forcefully as possible. "Him. Not you. Never you, no matter what's - going on. I was just shocked."

He just looks at me.

"Swear to God, Aya," I say to his frozen expression. "I'm your friend. Not the enemy. We were trying to fix things for you together, right? Look," I hold out both hands with palms turned up, "anything you need, anything you want, I'll do it. Just tell me."

He's going to ask me to do _that_. Or maybe, god, _that_... Whatever it is, I have to do it and not throw up; it's the only way to get back his trust.

Unless I'd rather wake up some morning to find Aya dead because he couldn't take it anymore and I was too prissy to help.

Deep breath. "Just tell me," I repeat.

The emotion I glimpsed is gone again, hiding behind that poker face. I have no idea what he's thinking; at least he _is_ thinking now and not just reacting.

Then Aya narrows his eyes at me and I'm suddenly not so sure that's a good thing.

"Strip. Lie down on the bed."

Awkwardly I scramble to my feet, pulse racing. This is dangerous, says a little voice in the back of my head. Say no. Get out of the room. Go wake up Ken so you have a witness.

Instead I sit on the edge of the bed and fumble my pants off. Nakedness around guys is not usually a big deal; there's an etiquette to shared baths and locker rooms. Rule One of which is not to stare the way Aya's staring at me.

Lying on my back I feel terribly exposed, but rolling over makes it worse; is his gaze lingering on my ass? Is this how he felt when I looked at him? After a few seconds I curl up sideways and hug my knees protectively.

Black cloth fills my field of vision as Aya moves closer. He grabs my shoulders and pushes me flat against the bed, then climbs on top of me. Startled, I open my mouth to protest - he's heavy, for one thing - and then close it again. Aya seems almost too angry, tight-lipped and scornful as he looks me over. This is going to be about revenge, apparently.

Without a word he stretches his body over mine, laying between my legs and rubbing our groins together. The friction's almost too rough; I turn my face aside until he grasps my chin and makes me look at him.

"What's the matter, Youji? Don't you like this?"

Aya kisses me so hard I think he's trying to bruise my lips, like the villain in a romance manga. When I start making frantic noises for air he lets go and begins to rub himself on me some more, deliberately and slowly.

Don't react. Lie still and just watch him. Don't _react_...

But I'm acutely aware that our cocks are touching through a thin layer of fabric, that Aya's is lengthening and hardening and stroking back and forth across mine. He smirks as he feels my body start to respond.

If I resist he'll just do something else. It makes sense to try and cooperate. None of this actually matters. Just stay still.

Aya pulls away from me and I sigh in relief, letting out the breath I hadn't known I was holding. Note to self: remember to breathe. He studies my face for a long moment with that odd, scornful look. What does he want to see?

Taking both of my hands, he raises them above my head and wraps my fingers around the bars of the headboard.

"Keep them there."

This is not okay. I did buy the bed for just that sort of thing, yes, back when my bedroom wasn't inside a security perimeter, but restraints are for the lady if she wants them. Not for me. Aya's tone makes it clear I should consider myself handcuffed, and I almost tell him no right there.

Instead I grip the bars and grit my teeth and wait. Whatever he's playing at, I asked for it.

Slowly he brings his hands down my arms and over my chest, mimicking what I did to him earlier. Our positions are almost exactly reversed now; but I was trying to make Aya feel relaxed and safe, and he seems to want me uncomfortable. I wince as he pinches a nipple too firmly.

Down and down and he's going to touch me there, I know it. As the fingers brush the tip of my cock I close my eyes; maybe I can pretend it's a girl stroking me, running her thumb around the underside of the head and down my shaft. It's all right to twitch and grow under her touch, to -

"Open your eyes."

Reluctantly I open them and look down at Aya. He's staring at me with eyes as harsh as his hand is soft. "Don't you like it?" he whispers again; my only response is a shudder as my balls are touched and held. Aya's pale fingers move over the tender skin, lifting them up like fruit to be examined. I gasp, thinking suddenly of one girl's laughing comparison to fuzzy ripe peaches. She loved to lick and taste them, and I could never get enough of it...what was her name?

And then I can't think of anything because his tongue is on my cock.

Aya. His mouth, warm and wet. His tongue sliding again and again over that sweet spot at the base of the head, coaxing out more fluid and then lapping at it. His cold eyes flicking up to make sure I'm watching him. His hands still gentle on my balls. Soft red bangs trailing along my skin to either side, framing the image.

Oh, god

"Aya, stop, please," I whisper for the first time. He ignores me and lowers his head to take all of me in. Somewhere in the haze of pleasure I'm dimly aware of him choking a bit and pulling back, substituting a hand where his mouth can't reach. Odds are he hasn't done this before.

It doesn't matter. Just the sight of him sucking, downcast eyes and long lashes veiling anger...

This is insane. This absolutely cannot be happening to me.

How far will I let Aya take this?

Am I actually going to come?

He answers the question for me. As those fingers explore down even further, my hips jerk away frantically, pulling me free of his mouth. I'm trying to scramble backwards across the bed and Aya's sitting on my legs; everything is a jumble of panic.

"Youji, calm down." His hands are on my shoulders. "Calm down."

After a shuddering breath or two, I manage to refocus. Aya holds me as we lie on the bed, and he seems calmer too. I rest my face against his neck and close my eyes. "No more, Aya. That's enough of that." More than enough.

For a minute longer we listen to each other's heartbeats slowing. Then Aya's lips brush my ear.

"If you don't cooperate," he whispers, evenly, "I'll just do this to Omi instead."

The sick chill of understanding drips over me like ice cubes held to the base of my skull. I have been so very stupid.

It's not that I believe for an instant Aya would lay a finger on Omi. Or that he's possessed, though the thought crossed my mind. Schuldich wouldn't have stopped and held me just now. Plus he'd be snickering.

Aya's just doing to me what was done to him.

What have I been telling him all night? That it's his own fault, that he could stop it if he really _wanted_ to. I didn't call him weak and a disgusting pervert, but I might as well have. I never thought about what leverage Schuldich might be using.

Omi. Ken or me. His _sister_, who as far as we know is unconscious in Schwarz's hands - oh god, what if the only reason they wanted her is to push Aya's buttons? I'm not going to think about what Schuldich might threaten, I am _not_.

There's no sound anywhere but Aya's breathing in my ear as he waits patiently. Well, Youji? The question hangs unspoken in the air. What's _your_ clever plan?

What would I do, right here and now, if the telepath was here and offering his devil's choice?

Slowly, I roll away from Aya, back against the pillows. The warm scent of him is on them, where he buried his face earlier; I do the same, stretching out on my stomach and breathing it in deeply. And reach up to grasp the headboard with both hands.

* * *
Part Seven | Part Five

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