Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Borderline ❯ Men Dont Cry ( Chapter 3 )

Disclaimer: Weiss and Schwarz will never belong to me *sobs* never.... they belong to their respective owner and I just use the characters to do the fiction because Ran is beautiful and Crawford is darn sexy man. ^^

Notes of thanks:

Mini Morr: Yay!! *hugs* thank you for beta-ed this fiction... you really help me a lot with your comments and suggestions....

Pandora: Talk about creepy.. you know who my muse is dont you... so you know where these creepy ideas came from ^^

Miss J : Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter too^^ with Schu and Yohji for you... *grin*

Brennend: ^__^ I know Brad is OOC.. well... everyone is OOC.. I wanted Brad not to be,you know, the usual cold, calculative evil (though he is darn sexy with that evil smirk of his) *_*, I wanted to potray him differently... and Yes... I might elaborate the crime scene in the next chapter, I just hope I dont gag while describing it ^^

Okaaayyyyy...... On with the story.. Thank you all for reading.....

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Chapter 3

Men Don't Cry

/../ thoughts

in italics = dream/past event

Pairing: S/Y, C/R and C/K

He didn't know why people were looking at him. The ladies with their guarded eyes and the men, he noticed, gave him appreciative looks. He shuddered. He hated that attention; all he wanted was to be left alone. He was in the middle of a debate and couldn't they mind their own business? He didn't want to be here, he didn't choose to be here, but his legs had carried him this way. He was on the street in the middle of nowhere.

He had no clear memory of anything, not even his own name. He remembered going out from his house and running without turning back, constantly cursing and debating with the voices that had decided to tag along. He had been walking all night long with no place to go but he couldn't stop, he didn't know why he couldn't stop but he remembered a woman's voice telling him to run as far as he could. He looked at his shirt; it was rumpled and he made a face. He hated wearing wrinkled shirts, he liked them neat and pressed.

He tilted his head to look at the bright blue sky and squinted his eyes when the sunrays stung them. A flickered image of a naked old man and a fiendish smile flashed in his mind. He startled and cringed. Those images were driving him insane. Not to mention the voices he heard.

/God! If you're up there, what sin have I committed to deserve this?/

As he walked, he cursed himself. He despised the color of his hair, despised the color of his eyes and the color of his skin. Thinking about it, he despised everything about himself. Everything. He shook his head, trying to clear out his mind and engage in another debate asking the voices to take a hike and leave him alone.

His feet were screaming in pain, demanding him to take a rest. He thought of few places. Point 1 - the park. Too many people. Point 2 - Police Station. He snorted. Point 3 - the sewers. He could hide there. So, point 1 and 2 were out of question. Resolution passed - Point 3 it is. He touched his pocket and took out a small bottle. His prescription. He was lucky not to leave his medication at home, because if he had, he'd be in trouble. He couldn't go home. He didn't even remember his way back anymore.

He tripped again and cursed. He didn't know how many times he had tripped and bruised his knees. He hadn't had anything to eat since yesterday morning. He was hungry now and needed to eat. Quietly, he headed towards the trashcan behind a bakery shop and started rummaging through it His eyes caught something. It was a loaf of bread and he quickly took it out, unwrapped it and took a bite. The bread was a bit stale but he didn't care. He was too hungry. As he ate, he heard something. It was a mewling sound and began searching for it. He removed the piling empty boxes beside the trashcan and saw a small kitten, looking at him with pleading green eyes.

"You're hungry too?" He asked the cat. The kitten mewled at him.

"So am I." He answered and pinched a part of the bread for the little kitten. It caught his hand and chewed the bread hungrily.

He quickly drank water coming from the broken pipe beside him and kept the rest of the bread for his uncertain journey. He sat there for a while, looking at the kitten who had now jumped up and curled itself on his lap.

He sighed and scooped the kitten up, placing it in his shirt pocket and resumed his walk. Someone was watching him with hungry eyes. He heard a call. `Hey pretty one! Where are you going? Want to have a good time? I can give you a good time.' When he turned to look, the man showed him his dick.

Another image flickered. Same show. Different place. That old man again and he fled. He ran… ran…ran…ran like a wind along the streets towards a narrow alley, stumbling and getting up. He reached the alley, still running and too afraid to look back. He closed his eyes and ran blindly, when something grabbed the hem of his shirt, he tugged away roughly. He fell and rolled and when he opened his eyes again he found himself sprawling on the pavement. He gathered his wits and started to flee again when he heard a mewling sound. The kitten had been thrown out from his pocket. He halted, hesitated before turning back again, scooped up the kitten and stashed it in his pocket before taking off. He didn't know where he was going; he didn't care. He reached the alley junction, saw another street and crossed it blindly He heard a screeching sound and froze. He stood there for a moment, looking dazedly at the car before he ducked into another alley.

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Five hours after he left the crime scene and had gone to his office to finish up the paperwork, Yohji drove back to the apartment where he was living with Schuldig. Yohji wasn't sure what had attracted him to the German. He was the detective in charge on the suicide case. It happened that the victim had been the patient of a young psychiatrist who worked at the hospital.

Two months after he had met the man, he moved in with him. One reason for sure why he agreed to move in with Schu when he had asked was the one time Schu had fell off the bed while they were making love. Yohji had lived in a small apartment, enough with his meager salary as a detective. Living in a one room apartment was no paradise for him but he enjoyed simplicity, and at that time a small bed seemed practical enough. A big bed would have consumed most of his bedroom space.

They both had laughed about the `falling-of-the-bed-incident'. After a while, Schu had carefully brought up the subject of living together with him. He remembered the night and the words that had come out from Schu's mouth.

They were in bed after the moment of blissful intimate body contact in Yohji's room. Schuldig, still resting his head on the blond's chest while trailing his fingers lazily on the line of Yohji's abdomen asked, "How do you feel about me?"

"Do you have to ask?"

"No… I guess not." Schuldig let out a heavy sigh.

"What's eating you?"

"Don't get me wrong okay? I don't know whether this is something sensitive for you," Schuldig paused for a moment before continuing, "I would love to have us living together." he said and waited for Yohji's reaction.

Yohji wasn't sure how to react. It was not that he was appalled with the idea, in fact he was thrilled, but there are pros and cons of the idea of living with somebody. He had been in Schuldig prestige apartment and knew one thing for sure; Schu was extravagant, unlike him, who was simple and ahh… sloppy.

Yohji remained silent, unable to answer. He needed time to think and decide. Living together was a big thing!

"You're angry?" Schuldig finally ask when he saw Yohji frowning.

"I'm not."

"You look angry."

"Why should I be angry?"

"Pissed then!"

" Forget it!"

"Fine!" Schuldig rolled away from Yohji's body and rest his back on the mattress, staring at the ceiling and wondering if he had upset his lover with the subject.

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Yohji finally said. "Why? You are not comfortable here?"

Schu sighed, his focus still resting on the ceiling. "I didn't say that. It's just that you are on one side of town and I am on the other…" He paused before continuing," besides…" he closed his distance to Yohji, removing the wet bangs plastered on his lover's face, cupping the chin gently with both of his hands, looking intently at the emerald eyes underneath him and whispered, "I love you. I want to wake up every morning looking at you, see you smile and be with you 24/7. Full stop!" He bent down, closing the distance between him and Yohji, tracing his tongue along the outline of his lover's soft lips before kissing him deeply. They made love a second time.

While they were making love, Yohji had made his decision. An answer is not needed, the act itself was enough, and he had agreed. The actual reason why he agreed to move in was simple; Schu loved him and so did he. And now, he lived in one of the condominium penthouses. The only person who knew about his relationship with another man was his partner.

Schu had mostly taken control of his life. He was the one to choose the color of the shirt he should wear and the matching tie to go with it and also made sure that he ate his meals properly although he was busy. Took care of him and showered him with love and money. He never asked anything in return except Yohji's undivided love. And that was what he was giving and would continue to give.

He drove in silence for a few moments more before turning the radio on. The voice of a young woman filled the car announcing the news of the day. The main news was of course the bizarre multiple homicides that had happened earlier.

Yohji couldn't believe how could people be inhuman enough to kill a helpless baby in such a gruesome manner. The thought reminded him of the baby's dark brown flesh and the smell. He squished the urge to vomit. When he finally got home, the apartment was empty. He headed towards the refrigerator and saw the post-it-note left by his lover.

I'm at Crawfie's

Come over.

Love,

Schu

Crawford! Schu's long time close friend and the one his lover trusted the most.

He had met Crawford without warning two days after he agreed to move in with Schuldig. He had returned home earlier from his department and was greeted by the sight of tall man in a white suite, glaring at him with inscrutable eyes while embracing his lover. He remembered how well he had hid his surge of jealousy at the scene, although he knew about their close friendship.

He didn't like Crawford that time. The man was looking at him as if he was thrash that Schu had picked up somewhere from the streets. Assessing him from head to toe, like he was not worthy enough for Schuldig. But he said nothing about it, merely glared back at Crawford when Schuldig smiled at him and pulled Crawford to introduce them. Their handshake was firm but far from friendly.

Yohji had tried hard to avoid meeting Crawford; inwardly he admitted that he was envious of Crawford. /Who wouldn't be? Every lover in my position would. Crawford is a damn successful man, not to mention one of the sexiest guys I've ever met./ Yohji thought grimly.

But, three months ago, his perspective on the American gaijin had changed. He had learned to like and respect Crawford. The American had saved his lover's life in one of his cases. Schu had been helping him with a series of killings that had rocked Tokyo. Men were found murdered in their homes with their throats' slit.

It was a bizarre case, five men were killed in the space of a month and he was left with no clues in solving the case. During his course of investigation, they had a suspect - a young woman. But without enough evidence his hands were tied to the ground. Schu had stepped in and offered to help. He had reluctantly agreed, knowing how dangerous the case is and warned Schu that they were dealing with a woman with a serious psyche problem. He had advised his lover not to deal with her alone without him, but Schu being a stubborn fool had ignored his warnings and proceeded in setting up a date with the woman.

His lover was lucky that night. Crawford had been trying to reach Schu and when he didn't answer, he had rushed to the penthouse and found Schu unconscious and the woman about to cut his lover's throat with a kitchen knife. Crawford had shot her without hesitation when she had smiled and raised the knife to stab his lover.

They had had a heated argument after that. Yohji had pointed a finger at Schu, accusing him of being inconsiderate and selfish for taking the matter in his own hands and without considering how he was a worried sick of his lover's safety. Schu had answered back that it was the only way that he could find proof for the case. They had exchanged sarcastic angry words at each other and Yohji had stormed out from the room in anger.

In the end, they had ended their argument in bed… as always.

Yohji quickly took a shower and grabbed the file with him to Crawford house. Now he had another case. He had be careful not to involve Schu in any more of his cases. He had few cases still lying on his desk, one of them was the disappearance of young men, most particularly redheads, for the past few months and still he was slapped with a new one. He sighed; this time he definitely needed Schu's perspective.

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"What on earth happened to you? You look like you've seen a ghost!" Crawford asked at the sight of a very pale Schuldig.

"I nearly run over a young man with my car," Schuldig answered, his hands still trembling. "It was too fast, and he just appeared out of nowhere. I almost hit him."

"Are you all right? Get in and sit down." Crawford called for his butler.

A young Irishman entered. "Yes, Sir?"

"Farf! Could you please bring me a glass of water?"

"Certainly!" He disappeared for a minute before returning with a tall glass of water.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Here, drink this." Schu accepted the glass from the tall American and began sipping. Half way of sipping with the glass half-way to his lips, he said, "You look absolutely peachy Brad, anything I should know of?"

Crawford grimaced. "Would you stop asking me that? Nothing happened, for God sake! It was our first date."

A small smile appeared on Schuldig's lips. "What do you think about him?"

"He's fine."

"Only fine?"

"What do you expect me to say? That he is kind, humble and yes… the kind I'd like to spend my entire life with?"

"Something along the lines… I'd like to see you settle down. Ken will be good for you. He comes from a fine family and he is responsible."

"You sound like a mother."

"I…." Schuldig paused. He knew Crawford probably was uncomfortable with the subject, but if he was, he didn't show it.

"So, where's the tape?" A change of subject which Crawford was really good at when he wanted to avoid confrontation.

Schuldig sighed. "Here." He took out the tape and handed it over to Crawford.

Neither of them uttered a single word while listening.

"What do you think?" Schuldig asked after the tape had ended.

"First, he is not my former patient. Second, this might be just a prank call. Someone screwing with drugs, got high and decided to play lets-call-the-shrink."

Schuldig eyes shifted to meet Crawford's gaze. "That's what Yohji thinks too. But… somehow, my intuition says that I know that voice." He began to rub his hands on his forehead, almost massaging it. This was a habit for him whenever he couldn't find solution to something that troubled him.

"He kept on repeating the word red? What does he mean by red? Blood?"

"Apple could be red!" Crawford answered, unconcerned.

Schuldig watched him in disbelief. "Thank you for that invaluable insight, Brad! What do you think? He saw a red apple, freaked out and called me? You know what?! Forget it! All I want is your help. Instead, what I get is a load of shit!" Letting his voice rise, he began to stand up and started for the door when Crawford caught his wrist. "Hold it, Schu! I'm sorry if I act like an asshole."

"You are!"

"Okay! Okay! Come on… sit down." Schuldig let the older man lead him back to the sofa.

"You're really worried, aren't you?" Crawford asked. Schuldig merely growled at him. "Come on-let's go to the study room. We'll listen to it again. May be we can catch something that might help."

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The streets were the worst place to stay. He knew he was no chameleon, but he sure knew how to blend in.

/Look left… look right. Nobody is watching! Good! /

He needed to sleep. He hadn't slept at all last night.

He walked through an abandoned construction site and saw big round pipes. He watched the sky, which had been bright blue before, had now turned to charcoal and darkened. It was going to rain soon and he didn't want to get wet. A pathetic mewl was heard out from his pocket. He smiled and rubbed the kitten's head.

"Heaven's going to cry." The smile disappeared from his face and he frowned.

He let the first few fat drops land on his face, not bothering to wipe them off. When the rain started its downpour, Ran quickly moved inside the pipe, curling himself and placed the small kitten near his neck; rubbing it's head while listening to the falling rain.

He closed his eyes.

A party! The voices of men and women chattering happily were drowned by the loud music, the kind that Ran hated most. `Techno music'. To him techno was just music with no melody but merely noise from high-tech instruments. He could feel the house vibrate from the sound blasted from the speakers. The noise was unbearable.

He left the party floor, wandering around the two-wings bungalow, admiring the architectural structure of the house.

Then…

He heard a voice screaming, almost like howling. He was standing near a door; the small opening allowed him to see things. Two naked bodies; rocking together. He could clearly see that the man on top was older, with white hair, but muscular hovering over something. No! Not something but someone. Another man! He gasped.

The man on top moved, lifting his body up. Now, he could see the one underneath clearly. A young man! Probably the same age as him, but the thing that caught his eyes most was the color of the hair. It was red, not exactly as red as his, much lighter while his was much more intense and vibrant.

There were others in the room. He could not see anyone but he could hear them. Laughing and gasping at the crude display he was watching.

He snapped. Another shrieking sound… the young man screamed whenever the man on the top slammed himself down on the body under him.

He was too afraid and too stunned to move, his violet eyes were wide and fixed on what was happening in there. The hands of the young man were grasping, trying to hold on to something that wasn't visible and the man on top was holding him tight.

He wanted to close his eyes but he didn't dare to move, not even breathe, too afraid that they would hear him. The despaired cries continued until the man on top ceased his movements and shuddered, growling like a hungry animal that just caught its prey. Then, the body underneath was limp and motionless.

The man on top turned to face the door. Ran froze as the man left the body, turned his face towards the door and spotted him with a sated smile still plastered on his face. The man was looking at him… as if saying to him `you're next!'

Those eyes!

He jolted up with his hands sweaty and his body was trembling furiously. That dream again, the dream that had been plaguing him for a few months. He quickly took out some pills from the bottle and swallowed them dry. He curled himself back again, tucking the little kitten tighter and tried hard not to cry.

Men don't cry….

~TBC~

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Me: I finished Chapter 3 ^__^ and it was beta-ed by one of the most respectable writer *hugs*

Fuuma: .. and what about your Flame Dancer??

Me: Still stuck at that darn romantic part which you didnt want to help at all *glare*

Fuuma: You know I dont do sappy stuff... *glare back*

Me: *sigh* Anyway.. hope readers like this Chapter ^__^