Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ By the Book ❯ An easy lay ( Chapter 6 )

Title: An easy lay

Author: this thorn

Disclaimers: See chapter 1

Warnings: Lemon. Not so much Non-Con as it is…one-sided. Not my favorite thing to write, so I might skimp on some parts. I'm doing my best to keep this tasteful, but this is integral to the plot. If you don't like graphic sexual situations, don't read. I'll give a summary of the scene in the author's note for the next chapter, so you shouldn't miss much of the important information.

A/N: I love Ken. I really do. Any sadness or suffering inflicted upon Ken is done solely by Schuldig. I have no control over him. If anything, it's the other way around. But I have a goal for this story, and not even a sexy bastard redhead can distract me from it. Onward!

Schuldig dropped Matze unceremoniously onto the bed. Without sparing the boy a glance he returned to the door and locked it, switching off the lights. For some reason he didn't care to examine, he didn't want to see Matze's face.

The boy was sitting right where Schuldig had left him, watching him with wide eyes that glinted in the faint moonlight, trembling slightly. As Schuldig advanced on the bed Matze shuffled backward, trying to sit up. It's okay. He won't hurt me. Settle down.

Schuldig felt annoyance building in him at the brunet's pathetic self-assurance. He didn't want his pet to be so…trusting. Schuldig wanted to see him afraid, angry, and, most of all, humiliated. Somehow he felt cheated.

In frustration he tore off his jacket and began furiously unbuttoning his shirt as he kneeled on the bed. Leaning forward as he rid himself of the twisted fabric, Schuldig reached for the boy in front of him. He placed fierce kisses on his neck, carefully avoiding his face, and bit and sucked at the soft flesh.

His annoyance was quickly turning into anger. Anger at the plan that was going so horribly wrong. It was supposed to be fun - a game; instead, keeping his pet was nothing but hard work and disappointment. And they seemed to be enjoying it!

Schuldig tugged down the loose collar of the hospital gown and continued ravaging the skin he uncovered, his attacks becoming more intense and brutal.

It wasn't enough. Not fast enough, not hard enough. Not enough.

Some team. They had all turned against him. He imagined them sitting together when he was out, mocking his efforts as Crawford revealed some secret and amusing vision of Schuldig's future that had them all laughing to tears that they hastily wiped away just before he walked in the door.

He shuddered with emotion as he sat up and began working out of his pants. Before throwing them to the floor he fished the new tube of lubricant out of the front pocket and fumbled with the cap.

They had completely abandoned him. Not that it would usually make a difference, but this time it seemed spiteful. They banded together as one team against Matze and himself. Without Matze he was alone.

Somewhere between rage and fury Schuldig managed to open the lubricant and sloppily coated his already full erection, quivering with weeks of starvation. He didn't give much consideration to stretching the body beneath him; it didn't seem important at the moment. He did, however, rather roughly maneuver the other man onto his knees, facing away. Without wasting another second he lined up with the puckered opening and placed his hands on the shaking hips, forcing himself in in one motion.

Schuldig almost collapsed onto the body in front of him from the sheer intensity of sensation. The body in front of him, on the other hand, seemed to become boneless and melted down toward the mattress. The German vaguely registered whispered words, but the roaring in his ears and throbbing in his groin were demanding his full attention. While he slowly calmed down, he felt the other man returning to his position, albeit with trembling arms and legs.

As Schuldig's thoughts cleared his anger came rushing back to him, and he gripped the other man's hips with bruising force. He pulled out slowly, then began a constant pattern of short, hard thrusts. Despite the tingling coursing all the way to his fingertips, it seemed not even the pleasure of sex could erase the pain in his thoughts.

They think they can get to me by mocking me behind my back, he reasoned, not allowing himself to consider any of the less innocent possibilities. It wasn't the first time Nagi had been angry with him, but it was the first time he didn't say anything. He only talked to Crawford. Crawford. That pretentious bastard. Prancing around the house with that stupid `I told you so' grin and his starched suits and ties and handkerchiefs and perfectly polished shoes. Oh, how he wanted to hit Crawford, but the bastard would probably see it coming a mile away. And then Farfarello: What right did he have to pass judgment? Sitting in his room and only talking when he wanted, like he always had to have the last word. Farfarello mocking him with his riddles and arbitrary silences. All of them…

Schuldig let out a strangled yell and pounded harder into the frail body.

Matze cried.

He was trying to hold the tears back, but the pain was incredible. Not just the pain of Schuldig's rough treatment, but the sharp ache of confusion. Is this how it always is? Why won't he listen to me? I can't…

With a cry that was little more than a gasp, Matze collapsed onto the bed and knew no more.

Suddenly the body Schuldig was thrusting into disappeared and he opened his eyes for the first time since he had begun. Matze lay before him, curled pitifully about himself on the dark rumpled sheets. His eyes and cheeks glistened wetly in the meager light, and his pale skin was quite obviously smattered with small dark flecks.

The German looked down at his pulsing erected and his mind roiled in an anger he could not begin to express. He didn't want to be there anymore. Not in the house with them. Not in the room with him. With a scowl he grabbed the sheet next to him and used it to wipe the remaining lubricant from his member and snatched up his clothes to dressing in the bathroom.

When he emerged, looking as decent as he cared to, he noticed Matze still curled up on his bed. A small twinge of guilt struck him at the sight of the unconscious boy, but he really wasn't in the mood to think about it. With some measure of exasperation he walked over and threw the comforter over the nearly naked boy. And left to find an easy lay.

TT: Well, that went better than I thought it would.

Schuldig: What are you talking about? The idiot fell asleep on me!

Ken: I PASSED OUT, you freak. I can't even walk and you expect me to play your whore for an evening.

Schuldig: Yeah.

Ken: Watch it, Carrot Top.

TT: Boys! Don't make me separate you. On second thought…