Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Heatwave ❯ Heatwave ( Chapter 1 )

 

Gods it was HOT. The heat was bad enough on it's own but the humidity was close to 80 percent and that made it nearly fucking unbearable. At least to Schuldig's mind. Then there were the 12 million plus minds trudging through life in the streets below, mentally or verbally whining about the heat. It made him even hotter just trying to keep the snarling, dripping en masse bitchfest to a minimum in his head. To top it all off the air conditioning had broken in the penthouse.

 

And the repair person was on vacation until tomorrow.

 

So the usually coveted top floor had become the rough equivalent of a blast furnace and was miserable living quarters at that moment. Even the perpetually cool Oracle had opted to discard his usual suit in favor of linen slacks and a cotton button up to offset the heat somewhat. Schuldig, on the other hand, was completely naked. This had sent Nagi running for the nearest computer store or arcade or whatever place had functional air conditioning and not a birthday suited telepath sprawled on the couch. Farfarello merely chuckled and shook his head at the other man.

 

“You know we're going to have to butter you to get you off the leather, right?” he said, sounding thoroughly amused.

 

“Oh, hell!” Schuldig said, trying to lift an arm to find it indeed stuck to the leather couch.

 

Farf laughed outright and headed for the door.

 

“Where are you going?” Schuldig asked, peeling his arm off of the leather.

 

“As I understand it, churches are quite cool,” he said, grinning wickedly.

 

“Have fun.”

 

“You could always come with. Of course that would mean getting dressed. Watching you manipulate the old lady into shooting one of the Yakuza was fun.”

 

“Yeah, but like you said, I'd have to get dressed. Right now I don't want to move.”

 

“So you're just going to lie there and melt?”

 

“That's the plan.”

 

“Let me know how that works out for you this afternoon when it's really hot,” Farf said and walked out the door.

 

A few minutes later Crawford came into the living room, glanced at Schuldig on the couch and opted for the kitchen instead. Schuldig's whining stopped him in mid stride.

 

“Braaad, can't we stay at a hotel or something? It's too hoooot.”

 

Crawford sighed and pushed his glasses up for the thousandth time because they kept sliding down his nose.

 

“Everyone in Tokyo seems to have had the same idea. There are no hotels left in the city. Even the love hotels are booked for the next two days.”

 

That answer prompted still more whining from the couch. “Can we go to Hokkaido then?”

 

“No. We have to stay here in case Takatori calls us for a job,” Crawford said testily. The heat was starting to get to him as well and it was making him cranky.

 

“Fuck the koala and his stupid orders.”

 

Crawford shook his head and continued his way to the kitchen. Schuldig lay on the couch roasting for a few more minutes with his eyes closed before hearing the other man come into the living room. He nearly bolted off of the sofa when something very cold dropped onto his lower stomach. He looked down to find an orange push up happily rolling toward his favorite body part before he reached out to grab it.

 

“Awwww, Brad, you brought me a present!” he said, happily yanking the top wrapper off.

 

“It's so your mouth will be occupied with something aside from complaining for at least five minutes,” Crawford said, sitting in his favorite chair and promptly hiding himself behind the Wall Street Journal.

 

Schuldig smiled a little to himself before pushing the ice cream up and proceeding to devour it in the most provocative ways possible. He licked around the top before taking the entire thing in then sliding it back out, humming happily the whole time. Occasionally glancing at Crawford to make sure he still had his attention.

 

Crawford squirmed discreetly in his seat, trying to avoid looking at the telepath who was making the most obscene slurping noises while eating. He wondered fleetingly if the other man had a gag reflex when he caught him shoving the entire tube into his mouth at once. No, no gag reflex, he thought. He frowned a little as the noise suddenly stopped. He barely had time to register this before Schuldig's flash fast movements served him well and he had planted himself firmly in front of Crawford. They served him even better in the ability to have Crawford's pants unzipped and along with his underwear pulled down around his ankles before he could protest or move to stop him.

 

He gasped when Schuldig's somewhat cold mouth closed over his half hard length and sucked him all the way down. There was never any stopping the redhead when he was in this sort of mood so Crawford, for once, just went with it. Clutching the arms of the chair rather than shoving Schuldig's head further into his lap.

 

It took Schuldig all of a minute to finish him off with that ever so talented mouth. (Something Schuldig took great pride in.) Crawford looked down in time to see him catch a faint spot of white that he'd missed and groaned a little.

 

“What was that all about?” Crawford asked after finally regaining his senses enough to speak coherently again.

 

“Just doing what you said to and occupying my mouth.”