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Aya had half-buckled his coat and was on his way out of the door of the mobile flower shop when a movement in the dark caught his eye. He stopped and looked harder: someone was in the shadowy endroom of the shop, where they kept the shade-loving plants and plantlets.

It was Yohji. Working in the corner by the light of a single spotlamp. Or at least, it looked like he was working.

Curious, Aya quietly stalked across to see what he was doing. Half suspecting, he had to admit, that Yohji was up to no good of some kind or another.

He was planting out seedlings.


He jumped a little, guiltily almost. Then his face lit with a smile. "Hey, Aya."

"What on earth are you doing?"

"What does it look like? Or are you the only one who's allowed back here?"

Aya supposed he had made this his territory lately. It was quiet, and he loved plants, found a quiet sort of peace coming back here and tending them. But he'd never thought Yohji had really had an interest in plants. He was more about extravagant flower arrangements and the sales end of things.

"It's quiet," Yohji added. "I just," he shrugged, "needed quiet."

Aya undid his coat and leaned back against the bench where Yohji was working. Tried to make out Yohji's expression, but he was keeping his face hidden in the shadows, avoiding Aya's gaze.

"What is it?"

"What's what?"

"What happened? This isn't... it's not like you."

Another shrug. "Nothing. It doesn't matter."

"Where's Ken?"

Yohji's eyes met his, worry and sadness laid bare.

"You went to the shops together," Aya prompted. "I didn't hear you come back. Did you come straight in here?"

"What is this, an inquisition?" Yohji gave a far too casual laugh. "I don't know, Ken just wandered off somewhere."

Aya frowned. "Wandered off? I thought you both went on the bike?"

"Something came up, he said. Not a problem. I felt like walking. Oh, and he said not to wait up." Yohji turned away again, sifting soil carefully around the little seedlings he'd just transplanted.

"I thought he and Omi were coming to the club with us."

"Must've changed his mind."

"But it's your-"

"Birthday. Yeah, I know. But it doesn't matter. What the fuck are birthdays, anyway? I'm just a year older. So what's to celebrate?"

Aya blinked at him. This wasn't like Yohji at all. Casually, he picked up Yohji's hand and threaded their fingers together. "I want to celebrate."

"You hate celebrating," Yohji said, but squeezed his hand. Quite hard. Aya squeezed back.

"It depends. Dancing with you in that leather thing you bought sounds good."

Yohji looked up at him with sudden, enormous affection in his eyes, and before he knew it Aya was being kissed, hard, bent back over the bench as Yohji's tongue tangled around his, lips tingling and pulse racing. When it stopped he was short of breath and his brain had started to fug. Yohji smiled at him, beautiful and sexy and for some reason looking grateful.

Something unspoken hung between them, as it had more than once in the past few days. Aya straightened up and slid his arms around Yohji's middle, working his fingers under his sweater to tease his skin.

"I think Ken's in trouble," Yohji said.

"Yes," Aya admitted. "I know."

"Real trouble. Not just the beserking. He's up to something, and he's not just rowing with Omi now, he's being downright mean. Some of the things he said last night..."

"I heard. I've spoken to that shrink from Kritiker about it."

Yohji raised an eyebrow.

"I was going to tell you. Just... well, not on your birthday."


"Yes. Well, it didn't seem..." Aya shrugged, not quite finding the words.

"Thanks," said Yohji softly, and gave Aya a little hug. "That's really... thanks."

"So, are you going to go and get ready? You know it takes you hours to pour yourself into all that leather."

Yohji grinned. "Okay. I'll just finish up here."

Aya shook his head. "I'll do that. Sooner you go, sooner you're ready, sooner we get to the club, and sooner..." he brushed Yohji's ear with his lips, "I can suck you off in the back room."

Yohji groaned and fell on him in a flurry of hard, passionate kisses which Aya eagerly returned.

"Like this," Aya breathed in Yohji's ear, and slowly slid down Yohji's body, shoving up his sweater to kiss the skin underneath as he sank to his knees. With faintly trembling fingers he drew down the zip of Yohji's jeans, relished Yohji's groan as his cock nestled into Aya's palm. Aya took it in his mouth straight away, pausing only to swirl his tongue around the head, and sucked hard. Yohji clutched at his shoulders, thumbs stroking Aya's neck in encouragement, green eyes glittering down at him through the strands of hair that escaped from his ponytail.

"Oh God, Aya, please..."

Aya hollowed out his tongue and started to fuck Yohji with his mouth. Yohji's hips rolled slowly, letting Aya do most of the moving. He tasted good. Felt good. Thick and hard, and Aya loved it, not just because it was so damn sexy, but because it brought Yohji to life, it made him happy. And it seemed to matter to Aya, more and more, that Yohji should be happy.

"Close, Aya, I'm..."

Aya sucked harder, moved faster, and kept his hands firm on Yohji's hips to stop him moving away. Backed off when Yohji went still and tight and started to come, to better taste him on his tongue. Swirled the stuff about in his mouth and kept licking at Yohji's cock until it was soft and clean, then tucked it back inside his pants. Yohji tugged him to his feet and hugged him hard, kissing him, whimpering at the taste of himself in Aya's mouth.

"Happy birthday," growled Aya.

Yohji made a kind of squeaky groaning noise. "God, Aya, I-"

The door behind them opened and they sprang apart guiltily as Omi came in, with a shadow of his usual cheery greeting. Yohji slunk off to get ready with a very happy gleam in his eyes, leaving Aya with the plants.

Aya dusted down his coat and lay it on the bench. He swiftly planted out the remaining seedlings, humming softly as he worked. By the time Yohji finally emerged in hip-skimming black leather pants and a silk shirt that moved like water, it was all done. Yohji's gloom had lifted, his party spirit returned, and celebrations seemed in order after all.

Somehow Yohji's hand fell into Aya's as they followed Omi to the car, as if it belonged. Something had changed during that conversation and the heated moments that followed.

Aya found he liked it. And from the smile that lit up Yohji's face, it looked like he did, too.