Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ By the Book ❯ Morning, Sunshine ( Chapter 3 )

Author: this thorn

Disclaimers: See first chapter

A/N: Really, Schuldig is the only truly evil character in Weiß Kreuz. Reiji Takatori is ambitious, but he doesn't have the same lust for cruelty that my little redhead does. Or orangehead. Really, I prefer the green on him. But that's irrelevant at the moment. What matters is that, no matter how much you may hate Schu in my story, keep in mind that I love a good romance. Too much shounen-ai is filled with angst and tragedy; I prefer a happy couple. Not necessarily a happy ending, though. Watch it.

"So we're supposed to pretend that he's one of us?" Nagi Naoe asked incredulously.

Schuldig simply nodded.

"And that you're - "

"Yes," the telepath interrupted. "Just keep your stories straight and this shouldn't be a problem. As long as you don't contradict yourselves he'll never be able to catch you lying."

Crawford decided to speak for the first time since Schuldig had begun his enthusiastic explanation of the situation.

"You realize amnesia is only temporary," he said in his casually condescending tone, usually implying he knew more than he let on. "If he should come in contact with the other members of Weiß or other familiar things, his memory might be restored to him."

Schuldig just waved a dismissive hand. "We can keep him in the house until I feel he's ready. I know what I'm doing."

Crawford's lips curved in some private amusement as he settled himself silently into his chair.

"Any more objections?"

Nagi rose abruptly. "Just keep him out of my way," he said sharply and retreated to his room, slamming the door behind him.

Farfarello also rose from his crouch. "The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it?" he quoted enigmatically, and followed Nagi.

Schuldig stared after them, baffled, then, with an exasperated sigh, returned to the hospital room.

He didn't have to wait long for his new pet to wake up again.

"Good morning, Matze," said the redhead with a particularly sunny grin.

"Hi…Schuldig," he murmured hesitantly, though his nervousness quickly vanished at the redhead's apparent delight at his recollection of the name.

"Did you sleep alright?"

"Um…yeah."

"I'm glad to hear it," Schuldig said, perhaps looking a little too glad. "Though our bed is certainly more comfortable…"

Matze blinked owlishly several times, but his mouth wouldn't form the questions he wanted to ask. Schuldig's already insane grin seemed to broaden as he leaned forward in his chair and took Matze's left hand between his own.

"How about we start with what happened?" Schuldig suggested, aiming for a tone that was casual yet stressed - anything but the buzz he was feeling at the brunet's willingness to lap up everything he said. "You had an accident. You fell from the roof. Eight stories."

"Eight stories?...and I'm still alive?"

Schuldig was so excited he had to look down at their joined hands so Matze wouldn't see the amusement burning in his eyes. "I didn't see what happened, but something must have broken your fall: you didn't even have any broken bones, just…" he let himself trail off sadly, and gave a shaky sigh for dramatic effect. This was too much fun. He was glad the kid didn't ask what he was doing on the roof in the first place. There was a story invented for that, too, but the less information he had, the better.

"So…do we - you and I - do we share a room?"

Schuldig allowed himself a brief smirk before snapping his head up to see Matze's nervous gaze focused on their hands, still clasped together. He gave the hand imprisoned within his own a gentle squeeze and Matze almost jumped as he turned to meet Schuldig's eyes.

"You don't remember anything?" Schuldig tried to sound pleading, even though he knew maybe even better than Matze the lack of memories or anything else interesting swirling around inside that brunette head. The ex-Weiß assassin said nothing but stared with wide confused eyes waiting - no, begging - for an explanation. It was almost too easy.

Schuldig let the silence draw out, watching Matze squirm anxiously, but when he felt his lips curving in an involuntary grin he decided to jump right in. "We've been together for over a year, Matze."

The redhead was almost disappointed by the lack of outward reaction, so he pulled Matze's captured hand to his lips and placed a lingering kiss on his palm. That seemed to bring it all home.

The brunet's thoughts were spinning. I'm gay? Does he love me? Is this our house?

Schuldig resisted the urge to snort aloud at Matze's far-too-innocent understanding of the situation. He was almost bursting to tell Matze the sordid story of how they first met. It was a remarkably embarrassing tale: the brunet was portrayed as a nymphomaniac who spotted poor, unsuspecting Schuldig studying at a library. Using fervent excuses and a near-violent grip, he had led the redhead to the bathroom where he then begged the older man to screw him senseless.

Schuldig knew the story would quite abruptly squash all the romantic notions running through Matze's head, but he didn't want to appear too eager to offer the information. It wouldn't be believable, and he was sure Matze would start asking questions in due time. Still, the anticipation was killing him.

Matze finally seemed to settle for the least provocative question. "Is this our home?"

Schuldig paused to mentally page the others before answering. "Yeah, we're in the…guest room. Would you like to meet our roommates now?"

Matze had no time to consider as the door opened and Crawford strode through, followed by an apparently reluctant Nagi.

"This is Brad Crawford," Schuldig said, pointing to the American.

"Bradley. And it's good to see you're feeling better, Matze." Crawford shot Schuldig a pointed glare before attempting a friendly smile for the brunet's sake.

"And this little shrimp is Nagi Naoe. He spends most of his time at school or studying, so you shouldn't run into him too much," the redhead explained, his words as much an introduction as a warning to the irritated boy.

"It's nice to meet you," he said with undisguised spite. "Again," he added at Schuldig's loud mental insistence.

Matze looked startled at the boy's vehemence so Schuldig leaned to whisper in his ear. "Sorry, he's homophobic." The brunet just nodded absently, unable to tear his eyes from Nagi's glare.

"Thanks, guys," Matze managed to stammer, though he was almost certain neither of the men were all that glad to see him.

"Farfarello also lives here," Schuldig interjected, "but he tends to keep to himself."

Matze frowned slightly at the redhead's cryptic statement, but the bright grin he received convinced him that nothing was amiss.

"If you would leave us alone now, gentlemen…" Schuldig's voice had a slight edge. Matze found himself grabbing for Schuldig's hand again as their roommates left. It was comforting after rather unpleasant pleasantries that had just occurred. The telepath had to lower his head so his fallen hair would hide his vicious smirk. So easy…

"So," Schuldig murmured through the cloud of his flaming red hair, "do you think you'd feel up to going out tomorrow? We need to get you some new clothes."

For the first time Matze noticed he was wearing nothing but a hospital gown. He frowned slightly and pulled Schuldig's hand closer to him, a silent gesture to get the other man to look at him. "What happened to my old clothes?"

Schuldig grimaced at the memory - not of burning the assassin's things or whatever Matze might be expecting, but of the almost enthusiastic refusal of his teammates to help his ruse by picking up clothes and other effects for his pet. He'd invented a story for that one, too, but he hadn't imparted it to the other members of Schwarz. Hopefully Matze wouldn't question anyone about it.

"I was so devastated when the doctor said you were in a coma," Schuldig paused to draw a shaky breath, "I destroyed a lot of your things. I just…I didn't think you would ever come back to me."

Matze seemed to blossom under the tender words, and Schuldig found himself almost disappointed that there was nobody to watch his performance - at least no one who would appreciate it for what it was. He was spouting bullshit like a priest and Matze was eagerly swallowing every word of it.

"I…how long was I…?"

"Just over two months," Schuldig embellished, watching with glee as Matze's expression became more remorseful than shocked. A perfect setup for the next turn. It was time to end the romantic crap - Schuldig was already becoming annoyed with Matze's mooning looks.

"Our bed's been so lonely without you," he said, giving the other man a suggestive grin. "I thought you might want to join me tomorrow night? I've missed you so much…"

Oh my GOD what do I DO!?

Schuldig had to cough to hide his laughter as the panicked thought screamed in Matze's head. He resisted the urge to make up Matze's mind for him and instead enjoyed playing audience to the other man's internal argument.

He's my boyfriend. But I hardly know him! But that's not his fault. But he's been waiting. I'm just not ready…

Schuldig sensed the boy's inhibitions winning out, so he jumped in to swing things in his favor again. "Maybe it will help you remember something?" he suggested, feigning helpfulness. "Besides, it's not like you have any pajamas."

The way the redhead's eyes were gleaming, Matze could have sworn he destroyed his clothes just for this purpose, but that didn't make any sense. Schuldig wouldn't need a ploy to get him into bed. They lived together, after all. He chanced a small smile as he made up his mind.

"Okay."

Schuldig grinned in triumph. It might have been more exciting if Matze hadn't looked so trusting and childish just then, but it was a win all the same. He had caught a kitten and had him completely at his mercy.

Ken: Does someone want to plan my funeral? It's in 24 hours.

TT: Don't be silly. Schuldig will take good care of you.

Schuldig: Of course I will, kitten.

Ken: For some reason, I don't trust either one of you.

Omi: Who are you two talking to? Ken's not here. He went to America to….

TT: You know, I'm not usually in to character death, but if you don't cut that out…