Title: Unleashed Hearts -- part 3
Authors: Mishaela and Jade
Pairing: Ken X Omi, Yohji X Aya
Disclaimers: Don't own, don't sue, don't ask, don't tell.

* * * * * * * * * *

Omi nervously surveyed the clothes laid out on Yohji's bed. He couldn't even figure out how some of them went on. "I'm supposed to wear these?"

A chuckle sounded, "It's not that bad, Omi. They're tight, but you can move easily in them." Yohji took a long pull off of his cigarette, "The only real drawback is that they don't do jack to hide weapons..." He looked at the younger Weiss squarely, "Simply put - no darts or crossbows."

Omi looked stricken. "But... I'll be unarmed!"

Shaking his head, Yohji pulled out a jacket and handed it to him, "Not completely... There's hidden pockets in this one."

Omi looked at the garment. There were no sleeves, but inside the jacket a knife could be hidden. A small knife. He looked doubtful. "I suppose..."

The taller man flipped up the collar, "Keep your mouth dart handy... and stash some under here." There were little loops for something about the size of Omi's darts. Yohji took another drag from his smoke, "I used to stash throwing spikes in here back when I was running wild on the streets... This is my old jacket from back then. I wasn't much bigger than you..."

Omi couldn't picture Yohji being his size. He looked at the taller man, trying to picture it. "What do I wear underneath?"

Yohji selected a tank top and a pair of really short cut offs, "These, for one... and I've got something else to add to your budding innocent sex appeal." With a grin, he dug into his closet and pulled out a pair of long strips of cloth, "I call these 'fuck me sleeves'... They're about the most erotic thing known to man." He held them up. They looked like a pair of opera gloves with no fingers, but were held in place by a ring that fit over the middle finger.

Omi tried not to squeak at Yohji's description. But he had to ask. "Why... why are they called that?" He had a feeling he already knew the answer.

Pulling one down his arm, Yohji demonstrated the appeal of the garments. It fit over his skin tightly, somehow intensifying the man's already overwhelming sexuality. "They just scream erotic... They're a mix between classy and sleazy. Perfect for where you're going."

This only increased Omi's nervousness. "I'm not gonna be able to pull this off, Yohji..."

"Yes, you will. You're Weiss, remember? We've been able to pull shit off that would make the fucking Special Ops look like clowns," Yohji said as he handed the gloves to Omi. He took the last pull from his cigarette, "If you panic now, the mission's as good as failed."

"I won't let the team down!" Omi stated emphatically. "But... I've never done this before..."

Yohji sat down on his bed and stubbed out the filter, "Listen, Omi... We need to talk about stuff that *might* happen... Like what you might have to do while you're undercover..." The taller assassin was outwardly calm, but more than a little disturbed inside - what would Omi be like when this mission was done? Would he be the same innocent Omi that had been with them all from the outset?

Omi shifted nervously. "Like what, Yohji?"

The older blond took a deep breath; this wasn't going to be as easy as he thought, "Like blowjobs?"

Omi blushed; he couldn't help himself. "I... I've sort of practiced... on bananas..." He looked down at the floor.

"Bananas and cocks aren't quite the same, Omi," Yohji said, stifling a chuckle. So... the kid would have some interest in what he was going to say... "If you want... I can give you some pointers." He took out another cigarette and lit it, "Or do you want to go in totally fresh?"

Omi considered, wide-eyed. He wanted pointers, but it would be embarrassing.... then he thought of Ken, and what he wanted to do with him someday. "Tell me, please," he whispered.

Taking a drag, Yohji leaned back on one elbow, "Well, the first thing is that the head is the most sensitive spot. The vein on the underside is second there..."

Omi tried to listen without blushing, but he just kept picturing Ken. He nodded, not trusting his voice.

"Licking around the tip drives guys nuts... They just have this urge to drive into the mouth of the person who's blowing them... it's like a drug to them." Yohji grinned as he remembered how Aya had tried to do that just yesterday. "The trick is to pace it out... don't let them have it all at once."

"You sure know a lot about this, Yohji," Omi said, then clapped his hand over his mouth. He didn't believe he'd said that. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Yohji chuckled, "It's okay. I've done guys and girls. Girls are softer and sweeter, but oh, man are guys tighter..."

Omi still couldn't believe he was talking about this with Yohji. He was sure he would have a permanent blush when he was done. "Do I... have to swallow?"

"Nah... it's personal preference, really." Yohji took another pull from his smoke, "I do, but that's just me." He looked at Omi, "It means more if you have an honest interest in the one you're doing it to."

He couldn't help but think about Ken when Yohji said that, of course. But this wasn't about Ken... Omi suddenly realized he might have to do these things with Ken watching. Oh god. "Yohji..." he took a deep breath, but after the scene with Ken he doubted himself. "Do you think I can pull this off? I'm not very sexy..."

Yohji tilted his chin up, "Sexy is all about attitude, Omi." He smiled reassuringly, "Even innocence can be sexy if you learn how to apply it."

"But..." Omi wanted to ask Yohji why Ken had rejected him, but he couldn't find the words.

"What is it, Omi?" Yohji's gaze softened, "Ask away..."

"It's nothing," Omi answered. He couldn't discuss it with Yohji. It was too embarrassing. He would do this job, and he would be good at it. Even if Ken didn't want him.

"Bullshit." Yohji knew something was bugging the boy. If he didn't get it out, it might interfere with the mission, "Go into the mission with a clear head, Omi. Get it off your chest."

"Well... Ken... um, we kissed, but then he stopped, and he doesn't want me, and... Oh, Yohji! I was so upset!" He looked up at the tall blond with huge eyes.

Yohji blinked, "Okay... Was it a good kiss?" This was apparently something that had happened after Aya had dragged him away... damn that redhead!

"The best," sighed Omi, dreamily.

"When did Ken run?"

"We were on the bed... he pushed me down... it was so good..." Omi sighed, then frowned. "Then he ran away! What did I do wrong?"

Now things were starting to make sense, "Omi... This might be a little embarrassing for you but - were you hard?"

"Of course I was!" Omi snapped, then remembered to be embarrassed. "It was a really nice kiss..."

Yohji smiled, "Did it seem like Ken was really getting into the kiss?"

"I thought so. But I guess I was wrong," Omi answered miserably.

The older assassin turned the youth's face to his, "No, you weren't." Yohji took the last drag from his forgotten cigarette and stubbed it out, "I'll bet that he started to feel things that scared the shit out of him. Think about how he is, Omi... It's not going to be so easy for him to understand being turned on by another guy. Give him some time to get his head clear and then try again."

Omi looked up hopefully. "Do you really think so?"

"Yeah, I think so." Yohji smiled and pulled the youth into a hug, "But, if you give up now, you'll never know - right?"

Omi sighed. "I hope you're right..." He snuggled into Yohji. "You smell good..."

"Thanks... I try to make myself as inoffensive as possible." Yohji grinned down at the younger blond, happy to see his spirits lifted, "Think you'll be okay with Ken backing you or do you want me to help?"

Omi grinned. "I'll be ok. Maybe Ken will realize what he's missing..."

"Maybe... One can always hope... Jealousy does things to a guy that talking would never accomplish," Yohji agreed. He loosened his arms, "Now, about the rest of the clothes..."


Ken sifted through the crowd, his eyes darting all over. Still no sign of Omi yet... but then, with this kind of place, he could go all night and never see him. He checked to make sure his comm was still on and took a sip from his drink. The fluid in the glass had long since turned to water from the ice, but he drank it anyway. It was helping to calm his jangled nerves.

Omi walked up to the door nervously. He felt ridiculous in these clothes. He was used to wearing shorts, but these barely covered his ass. That was the point, he supposed. And the gloves... for some reason they made him feel even more exposed. At least he could feel the comforting weight of two darts hidden in his vest. He walked up to the door.

The big, burly woman who was one of the front bouncers looked down at the boy. Her dark eyes searched his young, made-up face, "Somethin' I can do for ya, kid?"

"I..." Omi began, feeling very young. "Tom sent me. He said..." he stepped closer, looking around nervously. "He said... I need a job, and he said I could get one here."

"Oh..." The woman gave a little secretive smile, "Then you want to talk to Matsuro in the back. He might even be able to get you some work tonight... if you make the grade." She opened the door for Omi, "Good luck, kiddo..."

Omi couldn't believe it was that easy. With one final glance at the woman he stepped inside, waiting for his eyes to adjust. Was Ken here yet? He was supposed to be, but what if he had problems? No, Ken would have sent him a signal via the receiver in his earring. He made his way to the back of the club, to the long bar. He wasn't sure whom he was to speak to. No one had nametags here. He signaled for the bartender.

A rather attentive young man moved over to him, "Yes?"

"Um... I'm supposed to ask for Matsuro?" he said, more tentatively than he wanted to. He tried not to notice all the half naked young boys and girls scattered around the club.

The young man pointed to a darkened area off in the furthest corner, "He's over there... Best looking one out of the bunch." The bartender smiled at Omi, "You can't miss him."

Omi mumbled his thanks, feeling exposed in his clothes. He walked to the indicated corner, trying to see what was going on.

A very well dressed man sat on a long, leather couch. Around him were several other kids, around Omi's apparent age; some draped over the man and wearing only enough clothing to barely cover the essentials. The man was running one hand over a young boy's leather covered posterior while his other was wedged down into the tight jeans of another youth and moving in circular motions.

Oh god, he couldn't do this.... Omi forced his feet to keep going, bringing him to stand in front of the man. He looked to be around 30, and he had long black hair in a neat ponytail. He was of Asian descent, and Omi had to admit he was very handsome. He spoke up. "Excuse me, but are you Matsuro?"

The man looked up and, when he saw Omi, smiled as wide as could be, "Yes, pretty little boy, I am... What can I do for you?" His hand, the one delved deep in the jeans, started to move in a rhythm, making the boy behind it give a shuddering gasp.

Omi tore his eyes from what the man's hands were doing and forced himself to look at the man's dark eyes. "I... was told to speak to you. I need... a job."

One last look around and Ken spotted his team mate. He was on the upper level of the club, trying to get a good view of the whole floor, when he saw the youth standing near an alcove in the back. Even from where he was, Ken could see the clothes that the younger assassin was wearing. There was no wonder that several of the dancers nearby had stopped to watch the boy.

With a smile, Matsuro pulled his hand free, "Well, come in... Let me take a good look at you, pretty boy."

Omi swallowed nervously. This was it. He had to be convincing. He stepped forward.

"Turn around." The older man licked his lips as he watched the blond youth, "I want to see all of you..."

Moving through the crowd quickly, Ken wanted to take a good look and get into better position. "Omi," he whispered into his comm, "I'm going to the lower level... Just in case."

Omi did as he was told, just as he heard Ken's voice in his ear. As he turned he could see Ken, moving closer. He couldn't respond, though. He just stood, feeling like a piece of meat. But at least Matsuro wasn't ugly...

When he faced the man again, Matsuro seemed very pleased, "Very lovely... Nice long legs and those gloves... You look just as pure as a virgin." His, now free, hand beckoned Omi to sit on his lap.

Omi took a deep breath and did as he was told. A sudden thrill ran through him as he realized Ken was watching this. He felt very wanton. He sat carefully on one of the man's thighs.

Strong hands pulled him over so that he was situated over the man's groin, "Much better... You could make a lot of money working for me, pretty boy." Matsuro smiled and ran a hand through Omi's hair, "Have you ever been taken by a man? By the look of you, I think not... I could find someone willing to pay top dollar to have the honor of deflowering you."

Omi could answer this one honestly, at least. "No, I haven't. And... I really need a job." He shifted slightly and felt the man's unmistakable erection against him.

Stopping just outside of the alcove, Ken covered his look of shock at the clothes his team mate was wearing. Oh, God if Omi didn't look downright fuckable in that getup... He felt the sting of something as he watched the man pull the youth fully onto his lap. It was as if some surge of anger was uncoiling in his gut. The assassin backed up and let the others in the crowd surround him, but never took his eyes off of Omi.

The wealthy man pulled Omi closer, trailing fingers down one cheek, "I do, however, have one requirement before I can set you up for work, my pretty one..." Matsuro leaned in and nuzzled the side of the youth's neck, "You're going to have to give me a demonstration of your talents." He smiled reassuringly, "Not to worry, since you're a virgin, I'll only ask for an... oral examination."

Omi flushed, even though he had been expecting this. Dreading it. But he had to play innocent. "I... I'm not sure what you want me to do, Matsuro-san."

There was a flash of a smile and Matsuro took Omi's hand, shifting the young assassin so that he could place it where he wanted it - right over his groin. He looked quite serious when he said, "You're going to have to wrap those pouty looking lips around that."

Ken, from where he was, could see what was happening and bit back a very real surge of anger. How could they do this to Omi? Why did the let him go ahead with this mission when he had so many reservations? Why had *he* let him go ahead with it?

Omi swallowed. He wasn't faking the tremble that went through him at the man's words. It wasn't that Matsuro was unattractive... he just wasn't Ken. Well, he would have to imagine that he was touching the one he really wanted, then. He squeezed the man's erection tentatively. "Right here?"

"Oh, yes... Right there." Matsuro gave a chuckle and began to move Omi off of his lap, "If you do very well, I'll see to it you get plenty of work."

"I mean," Omi squeaked, "You want me to do that, here, in front of everyone?" Including Ken, he added silently. He stood in front of the man uncertainly.

Matsuro smiled, "Yes. No need to hide it... everyone here has done the same thing at least once." He ran his hand up Omi's shirt and gave one nipple a gentle tug, "If you really impress me, I'll see to it that someone reciprocates the favor for you." The man's hand began to move down, towards the small shorts, his path going directly for the youth's cock, "Maybe even myself..."

Omi gasped as the man touched him. He stepped back involuntarily, then made himself step forward again. He sank to his knees in front of the man and looked up with trepidation.

Out on the floor, Ken was starting to seethe, "Bastard..." His blue eyes glittered lethally in the lights as his temper began to flare to new heights. "Don't do it, Omi," he whispered to himself, fighting back the urge to go and drag his team mate bodily from the well dressed pimp.

Omi licked his lips and reached for the button on the man's pants. He fumbled with it, finally unfastening it, and lowered the zipper.

Looking down at the young blond, Matsuro smiled, "Don't be nervous... It doesn't bite, pretty boy." Several of the young ones around him gave little chuckles at his words, making the man himself laugh, "I've not had a casualty yet..."

The young assassin took a deep breath and reached into the man's pants. He wore no underwear, and his hard cock was easy to find. Omi wrapped his hand around the hard length. It was hot and silky to the touch.

There was a growling noise, and Ken realized that it was coming from him. He clenched his fist while his other hand went to his ear piece, "Omi, do you want me to put a stop to this? If you really don't want it to go this far, run your hand through your hair..."

Omi heard Ken's whispered voice and realized that the other Weiss member was indeed watching. He felt a small flare of anger toward Ken. He still felt rejected. So he ignored Ken's message and lowered his mouth to the waiting arousal.

With a defeated sound, Ken turned away, "I'll be at the bar if you need me, Omi... Just call my name and I'll be to your location immediately." That said, he stalked from his vantage point and plopped down on a stool. When the bartender came over, he looked at the man, "Two shots of Jack and a glass of water." He wasn't going to get trashed, but he *did* need to calm his nerves.

Matsuo threw his head back at the first touch of those velvety lips on his arousal, "I hope your performance is as good as your looks, sweet boy."

Omi didn't answer; he just closed his eyes and licked at the tip of the erection. A salty, bitter taste; but not awful. He licked again, and lowered his mouth to take in just the head. He thought about Ken and what it would be like to do this to him.

A low moan sounded from Matsuro's throat, "Very nice beginning..." His hand slipped into the silky blond hair of the youth and buried itself there, "Keep going..."

Omi decided he liked the sounds of the man's moans. They gave him a feeling of power. He lowered his mouth more, taking in the cock like a popsicle.

Downing the first shot, Ken thought about what Omi was probably doing right now. He couldn't help feeling that it was his fault. He took a moment to peer into the mirror across from him. He'd tried to apologize, but the younger Weiss didn't seem to want any of what he was saying. Maybe Ken had given up too easily? Maybe he should have forced the youth to look at him, listen to him, accept the apology he'd offered?

He'd never know now...

The hand in Omi's hair tightened, and Matsuro began to give insistent little thrusts into the moist warmth. He couldn't help it - the boy's mouth felt too inviting and too promising to leave alone. He started to moan louder, losing himself to the unskilled, but eager, machinations of the young man's tongue, "Mmmmm... yes... don't stop, pretty boy..."

Omi tried to take the thrusts. He found if he relaxed his throat he really didn't have to do much at all. He held the base of Matsuro's erection with one hand and sealed his lips around it. The man thrust harder, and Omi could taste more of the bitter fluid as the man moaned.

Ken reached up and pressed the button on the ear piece, "I'm sorry I failed you, Omi..." He didn't know how else to say it and, if he didn't say it now, he might never have the courage or chance again. The athletic youth looked down into his second shot as he lifted his finger off the comm, "I never meant to let you down."

Words of encouragement flowed from the older man's lips, falling on the boy's ears like a lewd tidal wave. Matsuro kept trying to still his hips, give the boy a real chance to work his magic, but he was enjoying it too much. The innocent looking youth with a hard, thick, leaking cock in his mouth... Oh, what he would give for the chance to be the first to bury his cock in that virginal opening!

Omi struggled to take every thrust, trying to keep up the suction. From the sounds the man made, it was working. Then he heard Ken's words and he was confused. What did he mean? Then he couldn't think anymore; his mouth was being filled and he struggled to swallow as much as he could. Matsuro's moans drowned out anything else, and he knew without being told that he would be expected to swallow every drop.

He was pulled off the cock after a few moments, "Very... very good... I do believe I have a place for you... if you're interested."

Omi blushed, licking his lips, and looked down. "Thank you."

"Do you have a name, pretty boy?"

"My name is... Tsuki, sir."

Matsuro smiled, "Well, Tsuki, what do you say to my offer concerning that cumbersome virginity of yours? I could find someone willing to pay high dollars just to be your first..." His voice dripped a sweetness that was supposed to make the youth feel better about the prospect.

Once again, Omi didn't have to fake the embarrassment this statement caused him. His innocence was actually serving him well. "I... do need the money, sir," he stuttered.

The man smiled and took a roll of cash from his pocket, "Here, this is your... 'sign-on' bonus. Go out, mingle with the crowd, and I'll see what I can do."

Omi turned away, still a bit dazed, and shoved the money in his pocket. He felt unclean, even though he was just doing his job. He had a bad taste in his mouth and he wanted a drink. He headed for an empty spot at the bar, trying to ignore the looks he was getting.

The older Weiss saw him in the mirror and slid his other shot to him, "Here."

Omi looked up, surprised, and locked eyes with Ken in the mirror. He looked down at the shot and grimaced. "I don't drink," he explained.

"I know." Ken looked back down to the bar, "I just thought... never mind." He was still feeling very unsure of himself.

"You watched." It wasn't a question.

Ken shook his head, "I left after you made it clear you didn't need my help." His eyes never moved from the glass of water in front of him. He didn't feel very well. Something inside of Ken wasn't willing to let things go. Something that insisted he should have gone in and stopped what was happening - by force if necessary.

Omi leaned over and grabbed Ken's glass of water and drained it. "Thanks." He turned to go.

Something bothered Ken... Something that he had to ask. "Omi?"

Omi stopped, his back to Ken. He bunched his fists. He didn't know what he had expected from Ken, but the other man's coldness hurt. "What?"

"I... Are you punishing me?" Ken didn't know how else to explain it. "I never meant to let you down... I know I fucked up - somehow - that this is my fault..." He was thoroughly miserable. Why did he always seem to make a mess of things... even now?

Omi turned slowly. "I don't know what you mean, Ken," he said carefully. He looked closely at the other boy. Ken really looked upset.

The athletic assassin shook his head, "Never mind... What are you going to do when this guy finds you a hook-up?"

Omi took one more step closer. "I don't know, Ken. I suppose I'll have to play along, won't I?" now he was desperate to know what Ken had meant.

Looking away, Ken ground his teeth, "I guess so." The words were bit out in near anger. The flippant way Omi answered wasn't helping him feel better. Maybe he should call Yohji in. He wasn't handling this mission well... not at all.

Omi looked hard at Ken. He was so torn. The only person he wanted to be with was right here in front of him. He had thought there was something between them but apparently to Ken this was just another mission. "I guess I'd better get to work, then," he said, emphasizing the word "work" deliberately.

"If you get in trouble and I can't see, you know what to do. I've got a feeling I won't be able to follow you everywhere," Ken said miserably. He gave Omi a torn look. He wanted so much to protect him, but felt like he was somehow messing things up even worse. 'I promised not to let anything hurt you... I don't intend to go back on it now.'

"Yes. I know," Omi replied, confused by Ken's reaction. "I'll keep the wire on," he added, not having to say that he would be taking other things off. The transmitter/speaker was in the form of an earring.

Ken gave a low groan, not only would he have to know what Omi was doing, he'd have to hear it too. He gave a defeated nod and watched the youth go out into the crowd of dancers. After a couple of minutes, the athletic assassin followed. He was really starting to regret this mission.

Continued in part 4