Yohji couldn’t sleep.

For one thing, his ribs were aching. Farferello had hit him hard, and the throbbing of the bone bruises from the impact was worse than the pain of the long, shallow gash.

For another thing, he couldn’t get his mind off of Schuldig’s bizarre monologue.

Part of him wanted to dismiss all the redhead’s conclusions out of hand, because they’d obviously been based on Yohji’s memories and perceptions of his brief…encounters with Ken, and therefore were biased toward what he wanted to see in them.

Another part of him argued that he most certainly hadn’t seen things in the manner Schuldig had presented them.

It was a puzzle.

It was keeping him awake.

He’d told Ken he wanted to be just friends. Why had he done that?

Well, that was easy. After his little ‘conversation’ with Aya, Yohji had found himself reflecting on his less admirable character traits, almost against his will. Aya had asked some questions that couldn’t be left unanswered if he planned to continue sleeping with Ken.

He hadn’t much liked the picture the answers painted.

There was a reason Yohji pretty much stuck to one-night relationships. He just wasn’t what anyone would consider steady boyfriend material.

So he’d done the best thing for Ken and himself, the only thing he really could do in good conscience, and put an end to the whole thing, before it became painfully apparent what a mistake it had been.

At least that way he wouldn’t have to listen to Ken pointing out his many flaws and failings as Aya had.

But…he kept second-guessing himself. Kept wishing that he hadn’t ended things so soon. Kept thinking about one more time. About Ken’s body, so warm and strong beneath him, Ken’s soft brown eyes, looking up at him with familiar warmth…

He wanted that so badly, someone who knew him (like Asuka had known him) and still loved him (like Asuka had loved him)… But he wasn’t the person he’d been back then anymore. There was a lot less to love about Yohji Kudo these days, and there hadn’t been that much to begin with.

And the thought of trying with Ken, and finding there wasn’t enough left for even someone as kind and generous as him to love…

Yet he was undeniably miserable, having given Ken up without even trying. And Schuldig had basically called him an idiot for doing it…

It had been almost frighteningly easy to fall for Ken. From friend to lover (just like Asuka), so comfortable and…right…

But Ken still wanted Aya. And Yohji, jealous, selfish bastard that he was, simply couldn’t accept sharing Ken’s affection with the other man.

Was that so wrong? Was it so much to ask, that he have someone who loved him, and only him?

But then, did he deserve love like that? No, he knew very well that he didn’t. So why did he push away the best he could have, because it wasn’t perfect, when he knew he wasn’t worthy of perfection anyway?

He needed some sleep.

But his ribs hurt.

And he was lonely.

And…he wanted to talk to Ken.

He continued to stare up at the shadowed ceiling for a while, then, with a sigh and a pained grunt, he sat up and climbed out of bed, grabbing a robe and pulling it on as he headed for the door.

He padded up the steps to the next level, concrete cold beneath his feet, making them ache. But he still hesitated outside Ken’s door.

Gently, he tried the knob. It was open.

But…it was also pretty late… Maybe he should knock?

But if he knocked, Ken might tell him not to come in. And the longer he stood here, the more he was filled with an irrational need just to see Ken, even if he got tossed back out on his butt.

He turned the knob slowly and eased the door open, creeping into the room. He shut the door quickly to keep out the cold night air, and paused to let his eyes adjust to the darkness.

Ken was asleep. That was immediately apparent from the soft snores that filled the room. Yohji smiled slightly at the noise, trying to imagine falling asleep to that sound in his ears. It must be love, because the idea wasn’t making him cringe.

Slowly, carefully, he began picking his way across the obstacle course that was Ken’s apartment, making his way toward the bed. He would just stand there for a few minutes, watch Ken’s face in the moonlight, and then he would go back to his own apartment.

He set his foot down, and almost lost his balance as the soft fabric beneath it slipped. He regained his equilibrium quickly, and bent down curiously to pick up the treacherous item of clothing.

It was dark, and smooth…felt like satin to his experienced fingers, and he knew damn well Ken didn’t own anything made of satin.

He glanced over at the bed, where Ken was happily snoring away, and back to the mystery garment.

He was curious. Deeply, deeply curious. And curiosity was a powerful force for Yohji Kudo.

He’d seen Ken. That bizarre urge had been assuaged. Now he needed to know what he’d slipped on, and he couldn’t turn on a light in here without risking waking Ken.

He’d just step outside quickly and look at it under the light beside Ken’s door. Then he’d toss it back inside and go to bed.

That was the plan.

Yohji picked his way back to the door, and opened it…

Only to discover a startled Aya standing on the other side, fist raised to knock, wearing what looked like black silk pajamas.

Yohji frowned at Aya as he pulled the door closed.

"What the hell do you want?" Yohji snapped, still a little angry at the younger man for his recent diatribe of Yohji’s faults. It was one thing for him to belittle himself, but quite another for Aya Fujimiya to do it.

Aya scowled right back at him, not at all intimidated by Yohji’s anger.

"I left my robe over here, I wanted it back," Aya replied flatly.

"Oh, right," Yohji muttered sarcastically, smirking at the younger man. "Like I’m gonna buy that one. You can do better, Fujimiya," he taunted, crossing his arms over his chest, the mystery garment still dangling from one hand.

Aya’s orchid eyes fastened on it, and he smiled coldly at Yohji. "Oh, you found it," the redhead remarked ingenuously, reaching out and plucking the garment from Yohji’s slack grip. Yohji watched as the younger man shook out the purple satin robe and pulled it on. It fit like it had been tailored to him.

"Thanks, Kudo," Aya remarked as he turned away and headed back towards his own room. "I really didn’t want to wake poor Ken. He was so worn out," the redhead informed Yohji with a small smirk. Then Aya slipped back into his own apartment, leaving Yohji alone on the chilly landing.

Just give it up, Yohji, he told himself bleakly. Just let it go.

For a moment, he considered it.

Then he scowled vengefully over at Aya’s door and resolved firmly, No.

It felt…good, the decision to fight for Ken. To not just give up and admit defeat.

But…he wasn’t sure exactly what to do.

Frowning, he tromped back downstairs, and on an impulse, bypassed his own door and headed for Omi’s. Omi’s door, too, was unlocked, so Yohji invited himself in.

"Omi, I need advice," he announced, as the younger assassin stared groggily at him, woken by Yohji’s entrance.

"And I need sleep," Omi countered grumpily. "Obviously we don’t always get what we need in this life."

"Philosophize later," Yohji declared with a dismissive gesture. "This is important."

"I keep telling you, Yohji-kun, I know basic first aid and that’s it. If you think you’ve got an STD you need to see a real doctor – "

"I don’t have an STD!" Yohji protested irritably. Honestly, you wake a guy up one time with a little herpes scare and he never forgets it…

"Okay, whatever you say. In that case, I’m going back to sleep," Omi yawned, slumping over on the mattress as he spoke.

"No, I need to talk to you," Yohji insisted, sitting down on Omi's bed and determinedly shaking the boy’s shoulder.

"Yoooohjiiiiii, I’m gonna kiiiiillllllll you," Omi warned him in an irritable whine.

"Yeah, yeah," Yohji acknowledged carelessly. "Kill me later. Help me now."

"Fine," Omi spat out, shrugging off Yohji’s hand and sitting up in bed, glowering at the older man with sleepy, bloodshot eyes. "What’s the big problem?"

Yohji met Omi’s angry stare for a moment, then licked his lips and grinned nervously.

"I really am going to kill you," Omi announced flatly.

"I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just…hard for me to put into words," Yohji explained weakly.

"Try," Omi growled.

"Okay…" Yohji said slowly, shifting his gaze to his fingers, which were tugging fabric pills off of Omi’s blanket nervously. "It’s like…you know when you’re…friends with someone, and then you find them attractive, and you have sex with them, but they’re still your friend, and then you want to be with them all the time?" Yohji blathered.

"You’re in love," Omi summed up, sounding slightly interested. "Go on."

"Right. And so…this person, the friend you… I…want to be with, they like…me, and they liked the sex, but…they sort of like this other…person, too, and…they may have possibly had sex with them, too…"

"Ooh. The person you’re in love with has the hots for somebody besides you," Omi murmured, now sounding much less sleepy and very intrigued.

"Yeah. And…suppose I told this person…the one I…love, that… I thought we should just be friends," Yohji continued slowly.

Omi scowled at him. "Why the hell would you do a stupid thing like that?" he demanded.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," Yohji muttered, repeating the weak justification he’d given Schuldig earlier. Omi looked no more impressed.

"All right, all right," the younger man muttered, "We’ll just take it as read that you’re an idiot and leave it at that. So basically, what you’ve got is someone you love, who thinks you don’t love them, and is also interested in someone else, who they may be sleeping with…"

Yohji frowned worriedly. It didn’t sound good when Omi summed it all up like that.

"Well, my first suggestion would be for you to confess your true feelings," Omi announced briskly. "Just march right up to Ken and declare your undying devotion – "

"How the hell did you know it was Ken?" Yohji snapped in shock.

Omi grinned brightly at him and replied cheerfully, "I didn’t, I was guessing! But that’s very cool, Yohji-kun. You two would make such a cute couple – "

"Yeah, well, unless you come up with some better advice than that, Ken and Aya are going to make a less cute couple," Yohji muttered.

"Aya? And Ken? Really?" Omi murmured dubiously. "I knew Ken sort of had the hots for Aya, but I didn’t think it had gone anywhere…"

"Yeah, well… I’m pretty sure it has," Yohji grumbled.

"Hmm," Omi mused, frowning thoughtfully. "Well, if you won’t tell him directly…maybe you should try…you know…the traditional approach?"

"Traditional approach?" Yohji repeated in confusion.

"Ask him out on a date?" Omi suggested pointedly. "If you’re romantically interested in him, Yohji, maybe you should try a little romance?"

"Huh," Yohji grunted thoughtfully. "That just might work. I know I’m a much more fun date than Aya could possibly be… I’ll give him the old Yohji Kudo Wine-and-Dine service – "

"No," Omi interrupted flatly.

Yohji frowned. "No?" he asked in confusion.

"Absolutely not," Omi elaborated. "The last thing you want to do is treat Ken like every other floozy or slut whose pants you’ve charmed your way into with cheap wine, cheesy pick-up lines and ‘the famous Kudo charm’," Omi informed him bluntly.

"Well, then…what should I do?" Yohji demanded irritably.

"Be yourself," Omi said insistently.

Yohji made a face. "You really think that would work?" he asked dubiously.

Omi chuckled and shook his head. "Trust me on this one, Yohji-kun," he assured the older man with a smile. "It may seem like a long shot, but it’s your best bet."

"If you say so," Yohji muttered. "But…what about Aya?"

"What about Aya?" Omi asked confusedly.

"Well, I’ve got to keep him out of the way while I’m making my play," Yohji insisted. "It’s not going to do me any good to sweep Ken off his feet if short, pale and grumpy is waiting to catch him first."

"Look, Yohji, I think you should just forget about Aya. Just…just go after Ken like the field is clear. Pretend there isn’t any competition," Omi suggested.

"Man, Omi, you really don’t know much about how this romance stuff is done, do you?" Yohji asked exasperatedly.

"Well, if I’m so uninformed, why the hell are you keeping me awake?" Omi demanded, glaring at Yohji.

"Uh…sorry," Yohji said sheepishly.

Omi sighed. "It’s all right, Yohji-kun," he assured the older man patiently. "I’m very happy for you, and I’ll help you however I can. But I think maybe right now you should go to bed," he suggested firmly.

"Right, so I can be ready to start my campaign tomorrow," Yohji agreed, smiling wickedly to himself. "And maybe then I’ll be able to think of a way to keep Aya distracted…" he mused.

"Just go to sleep," Omi ordered exasperatedly, kicking Yohji off his bed.

"I’m going," Yohji muttered, walking toward the door. "Thanks, Omittchi. You’re a pal," he called over his shoulder.

His only reply was a sleepy grunt as Omi turned off the light.

Yohji returned to his own apartment and crawled back into bed, smiling up at the ceiling. He had a lot of plans to make.

But he fell asleep before he could figure out whether or not it would be appropriate to offer Ken flowers.

"So, you busy tonight?" Yohji asked casually a few days later.

Ken looked up from the arrangement he’d been working on, glancing around to be sure the question had been addressed to him. But there was no one else in the shop at the moment.

"No," he replied, a little confused at the question. Yohji knew they didn’t have a mission tonight. What the hell else did he think Ken would be doing? Yohji was the only one with an actual social life.

Yohji grunted in acknowledgement, and after a moment, Ken shrugged his shoulders and turned back to the arrangement, figuring that was the end of the conversation.

They’d had several little chats like that lately, where Yohji would ask Ken some unexpected question and then just grunt or mutter in response. Somehow, things had become awkward between them. It was weird, and Ken didn’t like it. He had half expected it to be like this when they were having sex, not after they’d decided to be ‘just friends.’

"You want to hang out or something?" Yohji asked, surprising Ken again.

He looked over at the older man suspiciously, but Yohji was deeply involved in repotting an orchid, seemingly barely interested in the conversation.

Still, it was a chance to spend some time alone with Yohji, so Ken didn’t really have to think much about his answer.

"Sure," he replied cheerfully, feeling a little stir of excitement at the idea. Of course, if the evening followed the usual pattern of ‘hanging out’ with Yohji, the best Ken could hope for was the two of them supporting one another as they staggered home drunk, and the worst would be Yohji abandoning him to pursue some random person at the bar…

But it was an opportunity to be around Yohji, and he wasn’t about to pass that up.

"Where are we going to go?" Ken asked curiously, wondering what he was going to wear. He hoped Yohji planned to visit one of the less formal clubs or bars Ken had been to before, because it put a real strain on his wardrobe to fit in at some of the other places. Not to mention that the other patrons would outshine him and draw Yohji’s attention…

"I don’t know, I thought maybe…dinner and a movie or something… What do you want to do?" Yohji replied, turning the question back on Ken.

Dinner and a movie?

Food was a necessary evil to Yohji. He would live on beer, coffee and cigarettes if he could. And a movie? Yohji hated being packed into a crowded theater, with people leaning over on his seat and spilling popcorn on him, his feet sticking to the floor… Ken couldn’t think why Yohji would actually suggest such activities, it wasn’t like him at all. In fact, Ken thought with an amused smile, it sounded like a stereotypical ‘date’ –

The stem of the flower Ken was holding snapped in his hands as his eyes opened wide.

No. It couldn’t be. He was imagining things.

Yohji just wanted to be friends.

He wasn’t…he couldn’t be…

Of course not.

Still…

"Yohji? Are you asking me to hang out…or would this be…a date?" Ken asked slowly, wondering if he was blowing his opportunity by saying the word out loud.

Yohji continued to carefully prod at the dirt in the flowerpot, not looking at Ken. "Which would you be more comfortable with?" he asked calmly, sounding for all the world as if it didn’t matter to him one way or another.

Which made Ken frown suspiciously, because Yohji was usually not quite that guarded with his opinion.

Ken decided to take a chance.

"I’d like it to be a date," he declared quietly.

Yohji froze for a moment, fingers nestled deep in the dirt around the plant’s roots. Then he turned his head to meet Ken’s steady gaze and flashed a dazzling smile at the younger man over his shoulder. "Okay, then, it’s a date," Yohji agreed.

Ken smiled back at the older man.

"What’s a date?" Aya’s deep voice asked flatly.

Ken turned to see the redhead standing in the rear entrance of the shop, scowling at them both.

"I’m taking Kenken out tonight," Yohji replied, in a tone Ken would almost call…smug? "Gonna show him a good time," Yohji added, and Ken glanced over to see the blond was smirking at Aya.

"Oh, lucky you," Aya remarked coldly, when Ken looked over at him. "You get to be Yohji’s designated driver for the evening. What fun," Aya mused sarcastically.

Ken scowled at the redhead, and if it had been just the two of them in the shop, he would have leapt to Yohji’s defense. But Yohji never liked anyone to fight his battles for him, and he didn’t need anyone to do it, either.

"I won’t be imposing on Ken in any way he doesn’t want me to, Aya," Yohji assured the redhead stiffly.

Which was an odd sort of thing to say, but Ken wasn’t getting in the middle of this. Aya and Yohji just did not get along a great deal of the time. He knew they weren’t really arguing about Ken, this was just another excuse for them to snipe at one another. They’d get it out of their systems and things would return to normal. It wasn’t that they weren’t friends, just that they rubbed each other the wrong way sometimes, for some reason.

I am so not getting involved in their little private war, Ken thought firmly.

"Are you recuperated enough for a night on the town?" Aya asked the blond coolly.

"Almost as good as new," Yohji replied with brittle cheerfulness, thumping a hand on his chest, where his apron and longer-than-usual shirt covered the bandages.

"Well, they do say the Irishman’s god looks out for fools and drunkards," Aya mused thoughtfully. "So I suppose you were doubly protected."

Ken scowled at the redhead for that comment. That had been mean. And entirely uncalled for, too. Aya noted Ken’s glare with a flick of his orchid eyes, but ignored the younger man’s ire, instead returning his own challenging stare to Yohji.

Yohji straightened up, pulling his hands out of the flowerpot and wiping the dirt off on the front of his black apron. "Where you going with this, Aya?" he asked calmly. "Do you have a point to make, or are you just being a jerk because you’re so damn good at it?"

Aya looked taken aback at Yohji’s words, and Ken felt himself smiling slightly in approval. He didn’t know why, but Aya was being a jerk. At least Yohji was showing some maturity.

Aya glowered at Yohji for a few silent moments, then turned and slammed out of the shop, leaving the two of them alone again. Yohji glanced over at Ken, looking almost nervous for some reason, but before Ken could ask him what that little scene had been all about, a group of girls, probably just out of cram school, wandered into the shop giggling and chattering.

Yohji grinned ruefully at Ken and turned back to his potting.

Ken had no choice but to let the incident go for the moment. For right now, there were customers to deal with. But later…

Later, he would be out…on an actual date…with Yohji…

Ken stepped forward to greet the giggling girls with an entirely genuine bright smile.