Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction / Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Midnight Aloha ❯ Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Schuldig could not get any kind of telepathic reading on the man coming up towards the front door. Watching through the window, as discreetly as possible, Schuldig thought something seemed off about the man. His hair was darker maybe. Something just wasn't quite right. ::I think your boyfriend is a freak, Crawford.::

::As if your opinion mattered,:: Crawford snapped back, having just gotten back down the stairs to the kitchen.

"I just lost internet access," Nagi said, disgustedly. "The phone line is dead."

"Smart demon," Farfarello snickered, drawing little lines in the puffy arm of the black leather sofa. "Should have killed the demon."

"Crawford said not to hurt him," Schuldig warned. "No cutting the pretty braided cop."

"He's not a cop," Nagi said, collecting the papers from the printer as they finished. "He's special forces, paramilitary, retired freedom fighter. Weiss, but with explosives experience. His own people think he's maybe insane."

"I don't want his life story," Schuldig snarled, looking more openly out the window. His shoulders dropped and he realized how tense he'd gotten. The idiot man was back at the side walk again, walking up to the house, just exactly as he had been. "What the fuck?"

Nagi watched the outburst and twitched his nose. The telepath was hardly a friend to him, but then no one really was. "His trademark in the war was stealth." Nagi almost felt bad, giving away Shinigami's secrets, but he couldn't resist goading a bit.

"What is it?" Crawford asked from the kitchen doorway.

Nagi handed Farfarello a printed image of the Goddess Pelei, with information printed in a sidebar.

Schuldig jerked open the door. Suddenly Duo was back to the sidewalk, walking up towards the front of the house again. Confusion radiated from him and Nagi moved to stand behind him, where he could see but far enough away that he'd have some hope of dodging if the telepath chose to vent in his direction.

Crawford watched all that with mild interest. It seemed fairly obvious to him that it was some kind of technology that they hadn't expected. A lot could change in three hundred years. When the ball of paper hit him in the arm, he wasn't expecting it and side stepped away from the stairs.

There on those stairs, crouched down as if he were hiding almost, Duo smiled and motioned for Crawford to follow him. He wore all black still, thick braid laying over his shoulder. Before, Crawford hadn't really had time to see the color of his eyes. And that they were an odd amethyst, particularly beautiful and distracting only irritated him, distracted him from wondering why he hadn't 'seen' that ball of paper coming.

Leaving Schuldig and Nagi watching the repeating Duo on the front steps, Crawford lunged, while Maxwell dodged. They held their positions for a moment, Duo backing up the stairs, almost on his back, one hand on the railing. Crawford was over him, one foot between his legs, both hands on the stairs, beside Duo's chest. "Are you the real Duo Maxwell?"

"Yeah," Duo said, his smile growing even. "Like my house?"

A shiver started at the base of Crawford's neck, trembled down his shoulders, back and he moved a hand to block the upward escape of the man under him. One of the traits that Crawford shared with Maxwell was a confidence in his own feelings. He felt what he felt and spending a lot of time trying to order that to what someone else wanted or expected was a waste of time. "I like it now. You smell like antiseptic."

Duo searched the smooth face only inches from his, the dark eyes, darker hair now falling down over his forehead. "I have a proposal for you, Crawford," he said, even as he was wondering if the man pinning him had any idea how attracted he was, how much he just wanted to hook a leg around him and pull him close, press his erection to him, see if he had a match to it. "Best deal you'll ever get."

"I don't need deals. I get what I want for myself," Crawford said, lowering himself just a little, moving his head to the side so he could whisper in Duo's ear. "You're mine."

Moaning softly, Duo let go of the handrail and combed his fingers into Crawford's hair. "Oh, look, I want you, but I gotta tell you," Duo started only to be cut off by another of Crawford's kisses. He took Duo's mouth, the unsaid words only giving him an opening to possess again, tongue flickering and tasting, slow strokes over the top of his mouth. Learning to kiss, Crawford explored methodically, memorizing each movement of the man under him, swallowing the little sounds coming from him.

He did not care who this man was, or what anyone would think. He didn't even care why he wanted him so badly, whether it was a response to the loss of his entire world or some technological seduction, he felt this. Carnal longing was no longer academic, no longer something sterile and used to bait those of lesser intellect. It was visceral, demanding, in his blood with the need for power and as unstoppable as foreknowledge to the Oracle. Fingers in his hair, combing, tangling felt obscenely intimate to him, putting his appearance into disarray. This messiness was something he'd spend a lifetime avoiding. A lifetime of pristine control mutated into perfect passion.

When he released the mouth he'd held willing captive, Duo gasped for breath, panting and arching up to meet him. Weight on his elbow, he took a fistful of loose braid and pulled Duo's head to the side. "You're not much more than a boy," Crawford said, just a statement, as he watched the pulse beat under taunt skin, quick beats, fast heart. Crawford held his head to the side and lowered his face to his neck. He touched the tip of his tongue to the pulse, then licked over the skin, tasting him, before drawing back to count the pulse again. Faster, and Duo whimpered again, sounding young, but not innocent.

"Much more." His words blended with his panting and Crawford didn't care if he meant he was much more than a boy or wanted much more.

"Much more." Crawford agreed, taking hold of Duo's shirt and pulling them both to their feet.

::Crawford,:: Schuldig snarled. ::I do hate to interrupt, but we have company and this time it's not a hologram or some shit. They're wearing armor and they looked rather pissed.::

"Crawford?" Nagi asked, in person, standing at the foot of the stairs.

Crawford released Duo's shirt and he sort of fell, sort of sat back down on the stairs, his hair pulled out of the braid enough to make an uneven aura around his face. With one hand, Crawford smoothed down his own hair before turning his back on Duo. "What?"

"Where are we going to go?" Nagi asked, holding the papers in one hand, tugging at the hem of his shirt with the other.

"Don't." Duo panted, "Stay. We can work out a pardon. Stay."

Duo's smile faded though as Crawford raked him over with his eyes. "Your friends will not be arresting us today."

Crawford's hand beat Duo's to the small pistol holstered at his ankle and the Oracle drew it, flicking the safety off. "You would do well to retire, Mr. Maxwell."

That head under water feeling returned, with a vengeance and one hand flew to his throat, then to his nose. As blackness around him, the image of Crawford stepping back, a look of disappointment, of betrayal even over his face. Duo wanted to explain, wanted to talk things right, but he was leaning against the railing and pissed as hell that he was going unconscious again. Two for two, how lame could that be?