Disclaimer:

I do not own Weiß Kreuz or any of its characters. I just love them to no end and have a very twisted imagination. Please be aware that I am extremely poor so suing me will do you no good. Thanks.

Warning: NC-17 / Lemon Yaoi / Violence - Abuse / Explicit Language / AU

Pairings: Schuldich x Ran x Yohji / Nagi + Omi / Ken + Aya / mention of Bradley x Yohji

FYI: Inner thoughts -- [ Flashback ]

Synopsis:

Starting over is never easy, especially after surviving years of abuse and fear, but Yohji Kudou is determined to begin a new life, a life that will finally free him from the dark ties of his past. On the path to freedom and self-discovery, however, he'll meet two unique individuals, already bonded by a mutual love, who will not only turn his world upside down but will show him just how determined they are to win his heart.

Author's note:

After I read my wonderful friend Nekojita's fabulous 'Other Side' arc, my sudden fascination for a 3some between Schu, Aya, and Yotan blossomed even further, prompting me to write down the maze of ideas that had been whirling around in my mind for quite some time. I'm not sure where this fic will lead me, but I hope that you guys enjoy the ride right along with me.

Special thanks go out to Nev and Anney, my wonderful betas, and to Nekojita for their helpful input and creative inspiration.

Okay, enough said. Without further ado, here's SILVER LININGS. Enjoy the read and please don't forget to review!

Thanks to all,

Forsaken

Silver Linings Chapter 1 - A Fresh Start

Shifting the annoyingly heavy box in his arms, Yohji entered his new apartment and headed straight into the living room. He sighed as he placed the box containing several of his favorite books onto the beige loveseat in the middle of the room and sat down next to it, trying to catch his breath. God, he was tired. He'd gone up three exaggeratedly long flights of stairs only twice and his legs already felt like jelly.

But as tired as he was, and nowhere even done moving in his things, Yohji felt content as his eyes roamed around his small but comfortable living room. He could already picture how the space would look once he'd unpacked and settled in. He would decorate the place as he saw fit, adding his own personal touch, and Yohji couldn't stop a silly grin from curving his lips. He was finally free to do what he wished, to live as he wanted, and nothing was ever going to take that right away from him again.

Realizing where his thoughts were heading and not wanting to dwell on the dark thoughts trying to push away his joy, Yohji got up, wincing as his body protested the movement, and walked back toward the front door. He still had tons of boxes to bring upstairs and he'd best get his ass moving if he wanted to be done before it got dark.

Once outside, Yohji walked over to his small, red Toyota and reached into the open trunk, pulling out two medium-sized shopping bags and yet another large box, this one a bit lighter than the last. He turned, ready to go into the building again, but stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of the vermillion haired man standing by the open doorway smoking a cigarette. Hands gripping the corners of the box, Yohji took a deep breath as his eyes locked onto the other man's handsome face, trying to steady his rapidly beating heart. It's okay. Don't get nervous. It's no one to be afraid of.

It was easier said than done, however, as he slowly approached the other man. Green eyes a shade lighter than his own were staring at him intently, looking at him as if they could see right through him, and it unnerved Yohji to no end. Why was this man staring at him? Yohji honestly didn't know how he was maintaining a straight face, or keeping the box in his now shaking hands from falling to the ground. But he refused to allow himself to back away like a coward. No, dammit. He wasn't going to let his fears get the better of him, not anymore.

"Hey," the redhead said amicably, as Yohji tried to pass him by.

Yohji hesitated for a moment, but he was unable to put his manners aside. "Hello." The man smiled at him and, despite his increasing anxiety, Yohji couldn't stop himself from blushing.

"I'm Schu, from 3E," the man told him just as he moved forward. "Here, let me help you with that."

Yohji shook his head in protest, taking a few steps back. "No, it's okay, really. I don't need any help."

Schu tilted his head and grinned as he deftly took the box out of Yohji's hands. "It's no problem. And from the looks of it," Schu gestured toward Yohji's car with a lift of his chin, "you can use the help."

Yohji watched helplessly as the redhead began to climb up the stairs, not really knowing what to do. Should I just be letting him go up to my apartment like this? What if he's some kind of pervert? But as his green eyes stared at the man's broad back, Yohji found himself following the other man, trying desperately to keep his eyes off of the tantalizing backside swaying subtly with every step, and leading the way to his apartment.

Holding the shopping bags he was still carrying close to him, Yohji entered his apartment and pointed to where Schu could drop off the box, already wishing that the man would leave. "Right there would be fine."

Schu nodded and placed the box next to the black entertainment unit standing against the far right wall. "Are you sure you don't need anymore help? I really don't mind helping you out."

No! "That's alright. I'll be fine. Thanks for offering."

For a second, Yohji thought the man would protest again. After a moment, however, Schu grinned again and nodded. "Okay. But if you need anything, just let me know."

"I will. Thanks again for the help." He was practically pushing the other man out of his apartment, but Yohji couldn't help it. He wanted to be left alone.

"Anytime," Schu replied, with his almost mischievous grin still in place.

Following Schu out the door and into the carpeted hallway, Yohji watched the redhead as he walked past two doors and entered one of the apartments across the way. Great. Just great, Yohji thought in dismay, as he quickly made his way down the stairs again. His hands were shaking and he quickly buried them in his pants pockets, annoyed by his weakness. God, what's the matter with me? The guy was just being friendly. It's nothing to be getting worked up about, dammit. He knew that Schu wasn't posing a threat to him, but it was hard, very hard, to lower the defenses he'd been forced to fortify over and over again.

Walking back to his car, Yohji frowned as his thoughts shifted back to a time when his life had been nothing but pure torture. Golden eyes, the color of sparkling honey, came to mind and Yohji swallowed at the memory. He raised a shaky hand up to his hair, running his fingers through the blonde locks nervously, as he tried to get a hold of the emotions swirling within him. Fear once again clutched at his heart, reminding him of all that he'd suffered at the hands of the one person he'd thought had truly loved him, and Yohji took a steadying breath in order to calm the tremors struggling to break free.

Feeling suddenly cold, Yohji wrapped his arms around his slender waist and winced when he felt the ribs poking out beneath his hands, even over the jacket and T-shirt he was wearing. He really had become too thin, a consequence of the relationship he'd tried with all of his heart to sustain, only to have it come crashing down around him. Omi had nearly gone ballistic when he had emerged from a much needed shower, shortly after he'd come to live with him and Nagi, looking like a dead man, his practically skeletal body in no way hidden by the small towel he'd been wearing over his hips. It was only then, when he'd seen the tears and the worry within his younger brother's blue eyes, that Yohji had realized how he'd allowed his problems to affect him.

At the time, however, it couldn't have been helped. His life had been on a spiraling path, a path of his own choosing, and Yohji hadn't been able to see a way off of it. He had been miserable and lost, afraid of his own lover, and trying to deny it. Yohji shuddered, his thoughts becoming morbid, and he willed the oppressing feeling threatening to overwhelm him away.

Stop it. You're fine. You're getting better, dammit, and you've moved on. Yohji hands clenched. He didn't want to think about the past or about … Brad. His volatile relationship with the older man had finally come to an end after three years of mental and physical abuse, and Yohji had no regrets. If he'd stayed, Yohji knew that he would've ended up dead, either by Brad's hands or his own.

Leaning against the car, in front of the trunk, Yohji peered down at his wrist and moved the thick band of his wristwatch slightly with his thumb, revealing the telltale scar beneath it. Desolate and feeling uttering hopeless, he had made a decision to end his suffering one night, a decision that had nearly cost him his life. But in a way, he couldn't regret his actions that night, not when he'd awakened in the hospital, to the sounds of beeping machines and Omi's quiet sobbing, with a whole new outlook and a determination he'd never before experienced. That night, full of pain and blood-filled memories, had changed him irrevocably, giving him the strength to finally leave the man he'd once loved and had begun to hate with every fiber of his being.

Brad hadn't taken his decision to leave very well, not that Yohji had expected otherwise. Once again, he had known fear and pain at his lover's hands, but he had refused to buckle beneath the other man's obsessive cruelty. When he'd finally found his chance, Yohji had escaped Brad's hold and left the only place he'd ever known, not once looking back. Omi and his boyfriend, Nagi, had come along with him, refusing to allow him to start a new life alone, and Yohji would be forever grateful to the two of them for their kindness and support.

In light of the circumstances, he had turned to an old friend for shelter, someone he'd never spoken to Brad about in fear of eliciting the man's twisted jealousy. Thankfully, Jei had been more than willing to help them, despite the years of silence between them, and had provided Yohji and the boys a safe haven where they could rest and figure out what their next step would be. Eventually, their short stay had become a permanent one, and the three of them had done their best to bring a sense of normalcy back into their lives again.

It hadn't been an easy transition to make, the fear of being found always on their minds, but they had managed to somehow settle down. Omi and Nagi had enrolled into the local college, using the names and backgrounds Nagi had conjured up with Jei's help, and Yohji had worked for a time in Jei's flower shop. Yohji could still recall the shock he'd felt in seeing his old time friend, an ex-marine, surrounded by flowers, actually enjoying what he was doing. It would've been an amusing sight to behold had he not been too pained by the realization of how much he'd allowed Brad to control him and alienate him from his friends.

For almost a year, Yohji had been content, once again finding life meaningful and joyous. But the illusion of safety and peace was soon shattered when he'd received disturbing news from an old acquaintance of his family, the only person aside from Omi and Nagi Brad had allowed him to associate with. In her letter, she'd told him of the various calls she'd received from Brad demanding to know where he was. Threats had eventually been made, and Momoe had actually begun to fear for her life, so much so, that she'd left the country to stay with her daughter in the States shortly after sending off her warning to him. It had pained Yohji greatly to find out just how far Brad was willing to go in order to have his way, but it had also served to remind him that he would never truly be safe, not while Brad continued to hunt for him.

The decision to leave had not been an easy one, having taken countless hours and many sleepless nights agonizing over his turbulent thoughts, but he knew that it had been the right one. Granted, he hadn't gone far, but he'd put enough of a distance between them to keep his brother and Nagi safe. Jei had understood his need to leave and had promised to look after the boys, much to Yohji's relief, and knowing that his friend wouldn't let anything happen to Omi or Nagi, Yohji was now a little more at ease. The boys wouldn't suffer the consequences if Brad ever managed to find him.

Taking a deep breath, Yohji reached into his trunk for another box, his mind trying to shift back to the present. Grunting a bit as he rested the box again his chest and adjusted his grip, he moved away from the car and made his way back into the building. When he finally made it up the godforsaken stairs - he could only pray to get used to - and into his apartment, Yohji set the box down on floor next to his sofa and placed his hands over his bony hips, looking around the room with determined eyes.

Thoughts of his past, of his fears and doubts, of the redhead he'd met moments before, faded away as he set out to prove to himself that Yohji Ikeda, the frightened and naïve man who had lost his dignity and self-respect all in the name of love, was no more. Yohji Kudou was now in his place, making a fresh start, and he was determined to live out his new life to the fullest. Jade eyes darkened with a steely resolve. His life was now his own and he wasn't going to fuck it up this time. No way in hell.

A frown on his face, Schu walked into his bedroom and yanked off his jacket, throwing it haphazardly onto the bed. He sat down, feeling the mattress dip beneath him, and slowly took off his socks. His eyes fixed onto the wall as his thoughts strayed toward the blonde he'd just run into. The beautiful man had seemed nervous and about ready to bolt, and Schu couldn't help but wonder why. What secrets could be found hidden behind those amazing jade eyes?

Maybe it was the reporter in him that was suddenly intrigued by the mysterious air of the newcomer, or maybe it was just idle curiosity prodding at him. Either way, Schu knew that his sudden interest in the blonde man was more than just a stirring of his instincts. The instant attraction he'd felt toward the blonde was undeniable and it left him more than a little perturbed.

Dropping the socks onto the floor, Schu looked over to his nightstand, his gaze locking onto the small picture frame next to the lamp. Slowly, he reached out and took it into his hand. The 5x7-sized picture was an old one, taken two years ago when he and Ran had first moved into the apartment they now lived in. Smiling at the memory, Schu ran his thumb gently over his lover's image, remembering all of the wonderful times they'd shared throughout their relationship. Granted, they'd had their share of problems as well, life wasn't perfect after all. But through all of the rough times, their love had remained strong and true.

Sometimes, his feelings for Ran astounded him. Schu could still remember a time when he hadn't cared for anyone, not even himself. He'd blamed the world for the miserable life he'd been born into and had hated God for making him suffer through it. From the moment of his conception, life hadn't been easy for him. Born to an abusive household, his mother had come close to miscarrying him on more than one occasion, and there had been times throughout his childhood that he'd wished he'd never been saved.

A will made of steel had developed throughout the harsh reality that had been his life, intermingling with his anger, and Schu had used its unrelenting force to lead him toward success, toward an escape he deemed acceptable. However, his goal to succeed, to surpass the life that had been hell bent on breaking him, had erected a barrier around his battered heart, instilling a coldness that no one had been able to chip away at … until he'd met someone just as angry and determined as himself.

Schu grinned, as he recalled the first time he'd met Ran. He'd cursed Fate back then for giving him such a stubborn and sarcastic partner on his very first assignment working for a magazine company on the rise to success. It hadn't been easy, putting up with Ran's aloof attitude and, at times, snide remarks, but Schu had been determined to not fail in his job. Needless to say, once they had allowed themselves to lower their guard around each other, he and Ran had eventually fallen into a rather amicable routine, even backing each other up when they needed to. Without even realizing it, a friendship blossomed between them, making his once hateful life tolerable and actually enjoyable.

The journey from friendship to love hadn't been an easy one, however. Both being the stubborn asses that they were, he and Ran had skirted around the feelings that had slowly begun to surface through the passage of time. Schu smiled, remembering all of the bickering and, at times, humiliating moments of jealousy they'd suffered through. Fortunately, they'd had someone just as stubborn as they were willing to show them the error of their ways. Aya could be just as frightening when in a fit of rage as her brother, and Schu would be forever grateful to the little minx for her forceful interference.

And now, three years later, Schu honestly couldn't even begin to imagine living without Ran. His life was forever intertwined with his stubborn redhead, and Schu wouldn't have it any other way. Schu's brow furrowed. So why the hell am I letting this new guy bother me so much? Why was he feeling … weird? Schu shook his head, trying to dispel his confusing thoughts. He's just cute, that's all. I've got eyes, don't I? Who wouldn't think the guy's hot?

Trying to convince himself that his reaction toward the blonde had been nothing more than his hormones kicking in, Schu carefully placed the framed photo onto the nightstand next to the clock. His eyes widened when he noticed the time. "Shit! Aya's going to kick my ass!" Springing into action, Schu quickly put his socks back on, not really knowing why he'd taken them off to begin with, slipped into his jacket and rushed out of the room in search of his shoes, his worries temporarily forgotten.

"Hello."

"Hey."

"Yohji! It's about time you called. So how did everything go? Did you unpack yet? Did you eat?"

Yohji had to laugh. "Jesus, Omi. Slow down and take a breath."

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help it."

"Everything's okay, Omi. I'm almost done unpacking and I'm warming up something in the microwave as we speak."

"Yohji, that's not a healthy meal," Omi admonished him, in that 'you show know better' tone.

Yohji lifted up the box he'd taken his nicely frozen dinner out of. "Yes, it is. It says so right here on the box."

Omi sighed. "You know, you're too much sometimes. Promise me that you'll go food shopping tomorrow. I want you eating properly. Got it?"

Yohji smiled. He felt like 'he' was the kid brother here. "Alright, I will. Right after I put in a few applications here and there."

"Are you applying anywhere in particular?"

Taking a fork out of the box he'd packed with his utensils, Yohji shook his head as he tried to balance his cell phone between his ear and shoulder. "Well, I already applied at one place. But other than that, I have no idea where to go. I'm not too familiar with this town yet. I'm sure I'll find something though."

"Yeah, I'm sure you're right. Photographers are high in demand nowadays."

"Yep, so stop worrying." The microwave beeped and Yohji quickly took the now steaming dinner out of it, placing the plastic dish carefully on the white marble counter. He hissed as the steam burned a few fingers as he pulled the plastic cover off. "Shit, that hurt."

"Did you burn yourself again?"

"No," he replied quickly, refusing to give his brother a reason to laugh at him. So what if he was a 'tad' clumsy. Besides, the friggin wrappers on the stupid dinners were really tricky to deal with. It wasn't his fault that they were faulty.

"You did. Didn't you?" Omi's voice was laced with amusement. "Come on, admit it."

"Will not." Omi was laughing now and Yohji glared at the source of his embarrassment. Stupid wrapper. "Omi shut up before I tell Nagi what you did to him just last week."

Silence and then, "You don't have the balls to tell him."

"Last time I checked I did, so shut up." Yohji smirked as Omi cursed under his breath. Yeah, he wouldn't want to be in Omi's shoes if Nagi ever found out about the pictures that had been taken of him while he'd been asleep, naked … and drooling. The prim and proper brunette would have a cow for sure.

"Alright, dammit. God, you're no fun."

"Of course I am. You just don't appreciate me." Mixing his food around in its plastic dish, Yohji threw a bit of salt onto the not so great looking spaghetti and took a second to taste it. He grimaced a bit, but he honestly couldn't complain. It was better than his cooking after all.

Omi snickered. "You are so full of yourself."

"Yeah, berate me for having self-confidence," Yohji replied, before he took a mouthful of the steaming spaghetti.

"Never that, Yotan. Never that," said Omi, his tone sincere and oddly serious.

Yohji put his fork down and stared out the small window over the sink. He knew why Omi had suddenly gotten serious on him, but the past was the past and he didn't want to dwell on it anymore. "So, anything new going on?" he asked, his tone light and cheerful, as he tried steer them away from the touchy subject.

To Yohji's relief, Omi caught on quick. "Nothing really … Well, except for the fact that I managed to get accepted into Mr. Horie's art class."

Yohji grinned from ear to ear. "Seriously? That's great! Why the hell didn't you tell me right away, you little shit?"

"I forgot. Sue me."

Yohji rolled his eyes. "It figures."

"Sorry."

Food forgotten, Yohji leaned his hip against the counter top. "So when does the class start?"

"In two weeks. I'm really excited about it. Nagi even found me a great supply store to get the stuff I need."

"I'm really happy for you. You've got one hell of a talent and I'm glad that you're not letting it go to waste." Omi really was talented, especially when it came to Fine Art. The kid could draw and paint with incredible detail and accuracy. He even had a photographer's eye, using unique angles and intricate patterns that made his work even more beautiful.

"I really want to ace this class, Yohji. It'll give me the credits I need to get into Pendium. You know how I've always wanted to go there." Omi paused. "I'm nervous though. Mr. Horie isn't the easiest person to deal with. What if I lose my temper and deck the guy like I did Mr. Ogawa?"

Ah, Mr. Ogawa, Omi's high school art teacher back in their home town. Yohji remembered the stuck up prick. He'd given Omi hell throughout the three years he'd been Omi's instructor. Yohji could still recall the many times his brother had called him practically in tears, furious over Ogawa's obvious favoritism in class. No matter how hard Omi had tried to meet the bastard's demands, Omi had always fallen short, never getting the recognition he'd deserved. That had been the case up until the day Omi had finally snapped, nearly getting himself expelled when he'd decked Ogawa flat on his ass.

Yohji had done some serious ass kissing that day in order to prevent that from happening. Unfortunately, all of his smooth talking hadn't been able to reverse the decision to have Omi removed from the class, not that it would've mattered. Omi wouldn't have attended. Worst still, for nearly his entire senior year, his brother refused to have anything to do with art, much to Yohji's dismay. No matter how much Yohji and Nagi tried to coax him back into using his talent, Omi suppressed it for two whole years.

It was only until recently that his brother had finally gotten back into his artistic groove, deciding to go to school in order to hone his talent up to a more professional level. Yohji really couldn't be any happier for him. But Omi had a right to be a little anxious when it came to his temper. The kid had a bad habit of bottling up his anger until it inevitably exploded, usually at the most inopportune time. Ensuring that another temper related episode didn't occur was definitely going to be tough.

"Want some advice?"

"Yeah."

"If you have a problem with anything, anything at all, 'talk' to the guy before you let yourself get all riled up. You need to voice your thoughts, Omi. Nothing will get resolved if you don't."

Omi sighed. "You're right. I know you're right. It's just hard. I don't like causing problems."

"Yeah, but if you loose your temper, you'll be doing just that," Yohji pointed out.

"True … Okay, I'll do my best to open my mouth once and a while. I've worked too hard to get into this class. There's no way I'm gonna screw this up now."

"You'd better not or Nagi and I will kick your ass if you do."

"Alright, alright. I got it," Omi said with a chuckle. "Hey, when can we come by your place? I want you to see the sketches I made for my first project."

Yohji frowned at the sudden question. "I don't know, Omi…."

"Please, Yohji," Omi begged. "I always feel better when I show you my stuff. Please? I promise Nagi and I will be extra careful."

Running a hand through his hair, Yohji sighed. "I want you to come by, but … Shit, Omi, you know why I don't think it's a good idea."

"I know," Omi replied quietly. "You think 'he's' going to track us down somehow."

"It's a possibility, Omi, and I can't easily overlook it. If he ever finds me…." Yohji's voice trailed away, not needing to go into any details. Omi knew well enough what Brad would do to him if the brunette ever managed to find him. If Omi and Nagi were around on such a day, Yohji could only shudder at the thought of what could happen. Neither boy would stand idly by and watch the shit being beaten out of him; Yohji knew that for a fact. It was the main reason why he'd put some distance between them. He just couldn't risk their safety, no matter how much the separation pained him.

"Yohji, you can't keep living in fear this way. It's been nearly a year since we left and we've done an excellent job in dodging his attempts to find us. We changed our names, moved miles and miles away, and we've maintained a low profile thanks to Nagi and Jei's computer hacking. That bastard isn't going to find us, Yohji."

"You can't be sure of that, Omi. I know him too well. He's too damn intelligent and stubborn to allow himself to be outmaneuvered like this for long."

"Look, I understand what you're saying. And I know that your moving away was probably for the best - not that I could've convinced you to stay even if I'd tried - but … I miss you, Yotan. I miss you."

Yohji closed his eyes, pain tightening his chest. "I miss you too, Omi." Dammit, why did everything have to be so fucking complicated? And why the hell did he have to continue making sacrifices like this? Should I risk it? God, I just don't know what to do.

"How about we come over this Friday night?" Omi suggested, trying to sway him. "Nagi's classes finish early that day and I don't have to work at the restaurant. It'll be the perfect time for us to get away for a day or two."

Yohji opened his mouth, ready to deny Omi once more, but he found himself unable to disappoint his brother again. Could a quick visit really be so detrimental to them? "Okay," he replied, softly, his voice in no way betraying the tension now weighing heavily over his shoulders. "But I want you to check into a hotel at least on the other side of town … Just in case, okay? And I want you to make sure you tell Jei where you're going."

"Okay, Mr. Worrywart," Omi agreed happily. "Do you want to meet us at the hotel or should we just go to your place?"

"How about we meet somewhere in between instead? I saw this really nice restaurant in the downtown district on my way up here. We can decide what to do from there."

"Sounds good. Nagi and I will leave around 4 o'clock, so I'd say we'll arrive no later than seven."

Opening his refrigerator door, Yohji grabbed a can of soda and snapped it open. "Alright - But don't drive," he warned quickly, remembering the last time he'd ridden in a car with his brother at the wheel. He still had nightmares about it.

"Why can't I drive?" Omi demanded.

"Because you're dangerous on the road, Omi."

"Oh, yeah? Then why was I given a license if I couldn't drive, huh?" asked Omi, clearly insulted.

"Simple. The poor man giving you the driver's test was probably too frightened to risk his life yet again if he failed you. Passing you was obviously a cry for help." It was the only explanation Yohji could come up with.

"That's not funny."

Yohji put a hand on his hip, his face serious. "Of course it isn't funny. I truly feel for that man's pain," Yohji shook his head, "The horror he must've gone through." At that last remark, Omi hurled an interesting blend of curse words at him, just as he was taking a sip of his soda, and Yohji couldn't contain himself any longer. He laughed so hard that he almost choked, triggering a nice bout of coughing, tears and all.

Omi, of course, didn't appreciate his moment of hilarity. "That's it. I'm hanging up. I don't need this kind of abuse."

"Yes, you do. It's what keeps you young and on your toes."

"Kiss my ass, Yohji."

"But Nagi would get jealous if I did that. Besides, incest just isn't my thing." He had to add that in there. It was his duty as the older sibling to tease the hell out of his baby brother.

"Bastard. Good-bye!"

"See you Friday."

"Yeah, see you then," Omi responded happily, as if they hadn't just been arguing. "Love you … asshole."

Grinning, Yohji placed his cell phone on the counter and looked down at his 'meal'. Already cold, the spaghetti was clumped up and stiff looking. Yohji made a face as his stomach voiced its disapproval of the horrid sight by twisting and turning. "I must be insane." Not really sure whether he was referring to the meal or about agreeing to his brother's visit, Yohji grabbed the dish and threw it into the trashcan. "Time for takeout."

TBC…

Next

Forsaken Author Pairing Rating Subject