Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Eternal or fleeting embraces leave the same marks ❯ Backbones ( Chapter 6 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Warnings- I don't like this chapter, for obvious reasons. The situation that is in this chapter did not go this far. So, no freaking out!

"Pairings"- Schuldig/Crawford

Author's Notes- Hm, it's almost midnight. Better than two in the morning, right? Gomen for the delay with this chapter, I was feeling very uninspired at the time. Enjoy!! Oh, please, please review. I love feedback. ^^ Danke!

Thank Yous- I must thank my "Nagi", because I forgot to thank him in the last chapter. Gomennasai!! ^.~ I can't believe I forgot to do that. Opps.

Ch.6

"..."

Cautiously opening the front door, Crawford silently slipped inside of his team's residence of the moment. They all knew that could change at any time. He had just returned from a day spent with Fujimiya, a rather enjoyable day. They had planted flowers and lunched together, talking for hours after that. It was surprising how much their situations had in common. He never would have pictured it. Aya and himself in a deadlocked relationship with other members in their respective groups. Who would have guessed? Certainly not him.
The hallway was clear of life, nothing to disturb him as he slipped away to his office. As he walked past the kitchen, he heard Nagi humming quietly as the boy prepared dinner. Why the child just didn't order a pizza was beyond his line of reasonable thought, but whatever suited the kid. Shrugging tired shoulders, Crawford soundlessly opened his office door, stepping into the darkness with a grateful sigh. No one had tried to stop him, a relief. Now he could sit down and get some work done.
The thought had been a lie, for from the darkness a voice he dreaded more than he would admit called to him with deceptive softness. "Bradykins... where have you been all day?"
Damn, he thought unhappily, turning the light switch on the wall to the 'on' position. Almost got away with it. "I was busy." He was very aware of the argument looming over the horizon, a dark cloud that tried to blot out the pleasure and contentment his day had brought. Why must everything be a fight with Schuldig?
He caught the look on the Telepath's face, a mixture of jealousy, lust, and unhappiness. He was looking Crawford up and down, taking in his chosen attired for the day. It was uncharacteristic, Crawford would admit, but that didn't warrant the stare he was getting. Schuldig was obviously unhappy with the completely unbuttoned dress shirt, sleeves rolled up and a stretch of chest visible, and was about to let him know exactly what he thought.
"You went out dressed like that?"
Well, it had been a warm day and he had been working in the sun all day; why not? "...yes."
"Do you want people to think you're a whore? Are you trying to make me jealous?"
"Of course not. It was hot today, and I stayed outside the entire day. I don't see anything wrong with it." Crawford wanted to add that Schuldig dressed much worse and the attire he chose wasn't exactly Catholic school material either. Besides, who was Schuldig to question his judgment on clothes? If he wanted to wear it, than so be it. There was nothing wrong with how he looked today, but he said nothing. No need to further induce an argument. Maybe he could avoid one entirely....
"Then why dress that way? Unless there's someone else you're seeing. You're cheating on me aren't you? With who?Who have you been spending your time with, time that should have been spent with me, for these past few weeks. Whenever you're not working, you're gone or busy with something else. You don't have enough time for me anymore." Schuldig had come around from behind the desk to talk in a closer proximity.
Apparently he wouldn't be able to avoid an argument. "I spend just as much time with you as I do on my work or out." He did. The possessive man was always around when he was working, and he popped up many a time when Crawford was out, hence his caution nowadays, and they even had the time on missions together. Schuldig's accusations were unfounded, but he could see why the redhead would think he wasn't spending time with him. After all, his time had been monopolized by the Telepath before, so this change had to seem pretty drastic even though it really wasn't. He wasn't going to give up the new friendship he had found, it meant too much to him. Now if they met on the battlefield, all friendly ties were gone. They both knew this, and both Fujimiya and he accepted it. But away from the field they could be friends, and they would be. So help him god he wasn't going to be pushed out of this friendship.
"No you don't. You haven't spent quality time with me for a long time."
Quality time, by the German's definition, was anything that involved sex, foreplay, or a romantic interlude, and Crawford would have none of it. He was attached to the Telepath, certainly, but he wasn't.. in love with him. Things would have been so much simpler if he had been, but he wasn't and he couldn't change that. The attraction between them was not something he wanted. When he cared to look at it seriously, his attraction to Schuldig was merely a reciprocation of what was felt for him. He felt obligated to feel such, and had convinced himself that he should feel this passion for Schuldig, but he didn't. If he looked at it honestly, he saw that he was lying to himself and the one who desired him. After all observations and ponderous musings, he knew he didn't desire or love Schuldig. What he felt was just a reaction brought on by what could be boiled down to guilt. "I'm sorry, but you know how I feel about.. that." Schuldig had to know, he was certain the redhead did. How could he not when he had said it so many times?
"I know you love me. You just have to admit it to yourself. We're perfect for each other. Open up and feel it Crawford."
He didn't want to feel it, because he knew it wasn't there. Schuldig knew he wasn't going to say anything that could possibly offend. Crawford was really a nice person deep down, despite his sadistic side which emerged every now and then, at least he was as nice as someone in his position could be. And ever since this thing had started, he had felt weaker and weaker. Schuldig really was like a leech, sucking away all of his strength and most of his resilience. Even his physical immune system was running slowly down as the stress of the situation, combined with the endless toil of his work, ate him away. The leech had attached to him mentally, physically, and emotionally, sucking everything out and replacing it with a listless, restless feeling, almost like comatose, almost.
Suddenly, Schuldig was upon him, arms around his neck, eyes seeking his as he sought for any excuse to move away. He hadn't seen the German approach him, or even felt the change in the air, but there he was, touching him...
"..."
Searching his face with satiny jade, Schuldig eyed Crawford and smiled. "We're so good together. We always will be," he purred, pressing up against the American in front of him. He leaned in for a kiss, but felt two hands grip the sides of his arms and push him away. Taken by surprise, he stumbled back and looked at his chosen bishounen.
"Don't...."
"What?" he asked, surprised at this new development of backbone. Was Crawford getting a spine?
"You heard me. Don't." This time, more conviction and steady eye contact to boot.
"But you like it," Schuldig's hand lightly seized a shoulder and he pulled lightly to touch their bodies together again. "I know you do."
Trying not to shove him away,Crawford gently removed the offending hand that rested upon his shoulder, and looked straight into the eyes of the Redhead. "No, I don't. Now please... don't touch me."
Eyes narrowing, an obvious tint of annoyance and wounded pride shining opulently within, Schuldig advanced upon his unwilling partner. "Yes, you do."
Schuldig's arrogance never failed to amaze Crawford, never. Just when you think he had reached new heights and finally leveled out, he spiked again,passing records he had made himself. It was astounding, and Crawford didn't think he could take it anymore.
"No," he tried to assert some dominance, but backing away as he spoke was not helping. His back hit the wall and he cursed the layout of his office. His own stupidity, he should have been more aware after all.
Two hands held him by his waist, above his narrow hips, and he flinched. Such close contact with Schuldig was not a good idea at all. the redhead would press for more once he was given an inch, Crawford knew this. He wen to remove the hands and step away, but Schuldig grabbed his wrists, pinning them back against the wall. He raised his dusky blue eyes to look at the German, and the blue and green met once again. The green and blue simmered with one another, anger at each other fueling the colors into a boil. The showdown had begun again, the only question in Crawford's mind was if he could stand to lose any more ground.
Their lips connected, a hard crushing pressure enforced by Schuldig,control stoking his cruel edge. The onslaught irritated Crawford, making him angry at the liberties Schuldig had decided he was entitled to. This had to stop, and Crawford knew it. Schuldig was forcing entry into his mouth when Crawford revolted in the only way he knew how. He wrenched out of the steely grip and quickly shoved the other man aside, stepping forward and sideways to avoid anything the man tried. Schuldig, caught off balance and once again by surprise, slammed forcefully into the wall with his shoulder. The sound of impact reverberated throughout the room as he turned to look at Crawford.
"What in the hell are you doing?"
"I told you not to touch me," it sounded cliché, but Crawford didn't really care at the moment. "Now get out, Schuldig. I have work to do, and lots of it."
Never prepared. He never seemed to be prepared for the things he should have been, like Crawford's sudden revolt, Schuldig thought to himself as he backed away from the rigid American. He eyed the dark haired bishounen carefully, taking in the tight lines of his body, a telltale sign of anger, the determined glean in his eyes behind his glasses, the simmering air around him. Crawford was not in the mood to be pushed around, or even nudged in the least. He was set to fight, and he was ready to do it.
Schuldig, on the other hand, did not want to fight with someone who was able to fight back with such force at the moment, He would no doubt lose to this new facet of Brad, something he was not willing to do. He had to retain control and supremacy over the American, or he would lose the other man for good.
The door knob, a cool metal, pressed into the palm of his hand and he grasped it, turning it quickly and exiting the room as swiftly as he possibly could. He would come back in a few hours, when Crawford would be easily manipulated again.
Sighing, Crawford rubbed his neck with his palm as he walked over to his desk and seated himself. He flipped the computer's switch and listened to the gentle hum as it started. The constant noise was soothing to his frazzled nerves. He had stood up for himself, but he knew Schuldig would wait until he was vulnerable again. Then the Telepath would resurface and they would do the same stupid dance they always did. The dance they engage din was more than taxing, it was down right depleting of resources. Crawford wasn't sure how much more he could do, how much more he could handle. But he knew it wasn't much. He was reaching an end, rather hew was forcing himself to an end, because he knew he couldn't go on. If he didn't stop it soon, he never would. An eternity of this was not a nice thought, or a favorable reality. He had to find his stopping ground, plant his feet, and wait for the onslaught he knew would come. Just how long till he found his limit? Where were his stopping grounds? He had better find them soon, he could feel time slipping away fro him, days and nights blurring together under the strain...