Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Lusting Red ❯ Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Weiß. Sorry.

 

Authoress' Note: This is my first Weiß story. Please enjoy!

 

 

LUSTING RED

 

“Black,” the figure in the dark snorted softly. “Everything's black…”

 

He continued to sort through the dresser with little interest, tossing away black shirts and black pants and black…underwear as he dug deeper, his curiosity peaked only slightly. He'd been doing this for months, sneaking in and out of the red kitten's apartment, rearranging things as his leisure, moving a picture frame here, ruffling the covers a bit there, and he had yet to find anything fun. There weren't any dirty magazines, no kinky sex toys. It was obvious the plaything he'd chosen needed something spicy in his boring, blatantly repressed life. Schuldig grinned lopsidedly as he threw a pair of socks over his shoulder.

 

Of all of Weiß, Ran Fujimiya had immediately been his first pick. The littlest kitten was cute, but it would have been like touching Nagi, and even someone as loose as Schuldig drew the line somewhere. The others, as pretty as they were, had been even worse. The clawed kitty was a little too feisty, too tuned in to those sports the telempath thought were an inevitable snoozefest, and the blonde one was so straight that no amount of seducing would have turned his head from nice legs and a pair of boobs. That had only left one, one so utterly boring Schuldig could have fallen asleep and been more entertained.

 

The redhead eventually gave up and left the drawer open, clothes handing over it in disorderly fashion, and he sauntered towards the bathroom, contemplating whether or not to mess with things in there, too. He'd already done it once, some time last week when the kitten had been previously engaged in killing some nameless, evil “beast,” and though it had been amusing to watch his crimson pet throw his toothbrush in the garbage and pout because, unbeknownst to him, he'd scrubbed the inside of the sink drain with it, he wasn't as lively as Schuldig liked his toys to be.

 

Muttering to himself, Schuldig detoured to the bed instead and flopped on it, ruffling the pillows and dirtying the sheets with his boots. The German smirked lazily, propping his head up with folded arms as he leaned against the headboard. If anything, he'd learned Ran Fujimiya was not one to be underestimated despite the lack of excitement behind his closed door, and for that, Schuldig was happy…perhaps a little too happy. There were still so many undiscovered things he had yet to find, but he was looking forward to uncovering them all. Schuldig couldn't even begin to think of the possibilities Ran hid from him and his teammates, but if the kitten was anything like Brad, there would be too many to count.

 

Brad Crawford, the Oracle, was as anal as they came. The German momentarily had the picture of a stick shoved up his ass, and he knew, without doubt or second-guessing himself, that Ran was the same way. The thoughts he'd managed to draw from the redhead were enlightening, almost comical in a sense, and Schuldig couldn't get over the fact the man was obsessed with his sister. Actually, obsessed was an understatement. He was too afraid to approach her, to let her know that she wasn't alone and that her brother was still alive. So, he stalked her instead, watching her from behind trees dressed in the same boring black clothes Schuldig had just rummaged through. Like that wasn't obvious…in broad daylight!

 

The telempath chuckled loudly to himself at the very thought. How Ran had ever believed that black was an inconspicuous color would forever escape him. He really had no idea, and maybe, just maybe, he didn't want to. The real Ran Fujimiya was rather scary beneath the walls he erected around himself daily. In truth, he was down right mean, as well as angsty. The moment Schuldig thought that, he couldn't' get over it and burst into a full blown laugh.

 

Some would call him conceited, but he liked the sound of his own voice. It was mellow, somewhat hypnotizing, and he'd almost always been able to entrance people with it. By the time he managed to calm himself, his sides hurt, and when he heard wood creaking with pressure of relatively quiet footsteps, the German froze, that infamous `oh-fuck' expression of his wrinkling his features. Had he not been paying attention? He could always sense someone approaching just by the sheer intensity of thoughts being thrown this way and that. Why did his telepathy choose now to act up?

 

Curious, he tentatively extended an invisible hand outward, searching for the one who had entered. It couldn't have been Ran, Schuldig had spied on him enough to know that his kitten immediately flopped on his bed, the very bed Schuldig happened to be sprawled across, upon returning home, even after a “mission.” His pet was too well-trained to dirty his clothes or his body with blood, but his mind remained rampant, always chaotic and almost never heavily-

 

Schuldig's mouth fell open in uncontrolled shock.

 

A shield, one of peculiar strength and impenetrability , bounced away his telepathic graze, and he was immediately on his feet, as quiet and sleek as the cat he would never be. It was almost as powerful as Brad's, but that wasn't possible…or so Schuldig had thought. Brad's mental shields were impossible to break, ever since he'd met the American he'd tried to do it, and the prospect of someone else with such an ability set off particular warnings in Schuldig's brain that demanded he leave…NOW!

 

The footsteps grew louder, and the telempath moved closer to the window, blue eyes searching in the dark, calculating. The pane was already propped to its fullest extent, wind blowing softly through the repugnant black curtains, brushing tendrils of fire-red hair over pale skin. Schuldig watched as a gloved hand grasped the frame of the door, and he slid gracefully outside onto the fire escape conveniently placed beneath it, disappearing into the dark before noticing the object of his escapades enter the room and flop, face-first, onto the mattress.

 

- - - - -

 

“Quit it.”

 

Silver glinted beneath artificial light, and a tongue continued to lick the blade held in ashen hands.

 

“I said quit it!” Schuldig lashed out with a leg, effortlessly kicking the man beside him. No whelp of pain or even the barest glimpse of it was given, and the German rolled his eyes when the other began biting at the knife dangling between scarred lips for the umpteenth time. “You're hopeless.”

 

“We are all hopeless,” Farfarello stated matter-of-factly, withdrawing the blade to lick at the blood running down his chin. “God makes us hopeless.”

 

“Save your sacrilegious bullshit for someone who cares, Farf, because I sure as hell don't,” Schuldig muttered, reaching up to swipe the slender object from the white haired Irishman. He sampled the steel, grinning wickedly at the gleam in the golden eye watching him intently.

 

“God also punishes sinners.”

 

Schuldig sat up, knife tossed aside as hands tangled through the collar around Farfarello's neck, and he tugged him close, mouth twisting into a sneer.

 

“Good,” he breathed, his breath fanning across the other's cheek. “But would He honestly give a flying fuck about me?”

 

“Of course,” he answered, his voice deeper than its usually light, Irish lilt. “You're the worst of all God's children. He looks at you and laughs because He knows there is no salvation for your or any of the damned.” There was a knowing look. “Do you like being damned…Schuldig?” The German blinked, almost surprised to hear his name, and he nodded, brushing his nose against Farfarello's own.

 

“I've been damned all my life, Farf, and God's had nothing to do with it, either.”

 

“So you think.” Farfarello flicked his tongue over Schuldig's lips, giving him the taste of coppery-iron and himself before pulling away, laughing insanely.

 

“I hate to interrupt,” a voice spoke from a distant doorway, “but Crawford wants to see you, Schuldig.” Blue eyes narrowed in on the small body towering over them, and the telempath sighed.

 

Why did Nagi have to interfere when he was…playing?

 

“For what?” The telekinetic shrugged and disappeared into the other room, the slippers he wore swishing softly on the carpet. Schuldig pushed Farfarello away when he tried to poke him with the knife he'd pulled from his boot, and he stood, following Nagi's path of retreat, hearing the Irishman's fading thoughts as he did so. The German hated this part of his job, taking orders from some American asshole who thought he knew everything, and Schuldig didn't even bother knocking as he entered Crawford's office. The place was pristine and neat, too clean for Schuldig's taste, and he found the pre-cog sitting behind a huge wooden desk, the back of his chair facing the door.

 

“What-”

 

“Nagi tells me you were…talking with Farfarello.” Schuldig scowled.

 

“Yeah. So what?” When Crawford faced him, the first thing the telempath noticed was that the American's glasses were missing. Schuldig found himself lightly probing the other's thoughts, inquisitive as to why he wasn't wearing them, but the usual block was in place, and he could find nothing.

 

“I don't like what you've been doing in your spare time, Schuldig.”

 

“I can do what I-”

 

“No. You can't.” Crawford interlaced his fingers and placed them on his desk. “Weiß is not our concern any further.”

 

“I know that. What's that have to do with-”

 

“Fujimiya.” The word sent a shudder down Schuldig's spine and placed the image of the redhead in his mind's eye.

 

“What about her?” Crawford slammed one of his hands, no longer clasped, on the wooden surface.

 

“Don't be stupid! I'm not talking about the sister, Schuldig. Ran Fujimiya…you've been playing with him.”

 

“So what? It's not like you should care.” The Oracle cleared his throat and straightened his tie.

 

“It's my job to make sure you're not going to do anything to endanger the team.” Schuldig clenched his fist.

 

“There isn't…a team…anymore. You know that and I know that. We can be whatever we want now that Rosenkruz is-”

 

“I want you to fix this problem of yours. Fujimiya is getting suspicious, and we can't have Weiß thinking-”

 

Schuldig was out of the room before Crawford could finish, slamming the door for effectiveness, and the American shook his head, knowing for a fact he should have seen this coming.

 

He was psychic, after all.

 

- - - - -

 

Ran was sitting at the table in the back of the flower shop when Yohji entered, smoking a cigarette and smelling of cheap perfume. The blonde expected his comrade to yell at him for “contaminating the air,” but he said nothing. In fact, he did nothing.

 

“Hey.” Ran nodded to him, but continued to give him the silent treatment. “Where're the others?” He pointed towards the steps, and Yohji wanted to grab him by the neck and choke him. More silence ensured and then…

 

“Have you ever thought you were going crazy?” Yohji blinked.

 

“Uh-”

 

“I mean…really crazy. Like you don't know what's going on and you think someone's doing things to you behind your back?” Yohji immediately took the hint.

 

“Who's screwing with you, Aya?” He shook his head.

 

“I don't…know. I mean…my apartment's always a mess, and I know I never leave it that way unless…what if I'm…” He mumbled something under his breath, looking away, and Yohji arched an eyebrow.

 

“What are you talking about?” This was not the Aya he knew.

 

“Nevermind.” Yohji watched Ran stand, tugging his “infamous” orange sweater down over a pair of unusually tight jeans, and he sulked towards the same stairway he'd directed towards earlier, feet dragging slightly, tall lanky body slouched. Yohji was going to call to him, ask him if he wanted to join him for a beer at some local bar, maybe pick up a couple of girls for some non-committal fun, but the blonde found his tongue twisted into a knot. Ran vanished from sight before Yohji could speak, leaving him to his own conclusions, and once the redhead reached the top of the steps and his own room, he leaned heavily against the door, eyes shut tightly as he attempted to breathe, his heart pounding. His nerves felt frayed, constantly on the edge, and he was so tired that it almost seemed impossible for him to be awake, to concentrate, and move on with his life. Yet, it had nothing to do with his sister or the fact that he was an assassin, a murderer of those who caused indescribable anguish. Ran hadn't lied when he'd told Yohji that he was going crazy. His things were always rearranged, his bed messy, clothes tossed everywhere, and he couldn't even begin to explain how any of it had come about. Plus, the dreams…the dreams didn't help, either.

 

Dreams about…Schwarz, about…the flame-haired telepath of German descent.

 

Schuldig…

 

Ran bit his lip hard enough to draw blood as he wrestled with the knob, begging for it to open, and when he stumbled inside, he tripped over his own feet, landing hard against something plaint and soft beneath his fingers. He groped around despite the darkness, feeling his way up something broad and…moving?! Air caught in his throat, and Ran choked when a hand brushed his face, sweeping aside strands of red faded to a dark burgundy over the years behind his ears. He heard a voice whisper something in an unrecognizable language, heavy and gruff to him, and when he remembered to open his eyes, though he could not see, he blinked in surprise. The words had been…German. The person who'd caught him had been…

 

“Schuldig!” Ran spat the words in disgust, jerking away from the one who held him only to stagger backwards. The telempath moved faster than lightning, gracefully catching him before he ended up on his backside, and Schuldig grinned…almost idiotically.

 

“It's nice to see you, too,” he commented, lips incredible close to the other redhead's throat. Play nice.

 

Ran struggled against the nearly powerless grip, easily breaking free as the same voice that haunted his subconscious flooded his mind.

 

“I…I don't want to play,” he hissed, teeth bared, his mouth twisted into a snarl. He glanced around to see if there was anything he could use as a weapon nearby, but found nothing. “What are you doing here?!”

 

“Tsk, tsk, my Ran-chan.” Schuldig took a step forward, flicking a switch to dowse the room in dim light. “Don't bare your fangs just yet, little kitten.” Ran suddenly found himself trembling.

 

Everything was slowly begging to make sense, and he couldn't understand why he hadn't been able to see it before.

 

His clothes…

 

His bed…

 

His toothbrush…

 

“You're quite intelligent, Ran-chan. I'm surprised it took you this long to figure it out.”

 

“S-stop calling me that. You…you don't know me well enough t-to call me that.” Schuldig smirked again, appearing as dangerous and handsome as ever.

 

“Oh, but I do, Ran-chan. I know you so much better than you know yourself.” He tapped a slender finger to his temple. “It's all…here.” Ran reached out for anything he could grasp and threw it at Schuldig.

 

“Get out!” The German peeled the typical black shirt from his face, still grinning just as wickedly as before.

 

“Why?” He took another step forward, inching Ran into the wall, his violet eyes large, scared as the telempath looked upon him. “Your mouth tells me to leave, but your mind doesn't.”

 

“The hell you say!” Ran lashed out for something else to throw at the other, but he found Schuldig firmly but delicately holding his wrist, preventing him from moving…or escaping.

 

“Wrong again.” Then, Schuldig's tongue was probing between his lips with finesse as though he'd been doing it for an eternity, and Ran stood immobile, staring blankly at the tendrils of flaming hair brushing his cheek, down his chest, over his shoulder. He felt the German's mouth sucking at his lips, felt his fingers easily slipping down his sides, over his hips, and-

 

“NO!” His hands found strength, his body movement, and Ran shoved at the telempath's chest, twisting his face away. “What-” Schuldig squeezed the wrist he still held and shoved him harder against the wall.

 

“You need to relax,” Schuldig breathed, hot air skimming Ran's skin, making him shiver involuntarily. “Besides…” Noses pressed together. You know you want to.

 

“N-” The telempath slammed the redhead's arms above him, fully pressing their bodies together, and Ran found his mind frozen, thoughts not his own drilling into his brain. They were telling him to do unspeakable, immoral things, primal things, and he felt himself complying. He was growing lax, his taut muscles melting into nothing resembling resistance, but he…he didn't want to. Schuldig was the enemy. Schuldig was Schwarz. Schuldig was…was…

 

“Ah!” Ran completely gave up thinking, arching into the touch as skilled fingers caressed his lower abdomen, flicking over the band of his jeans and back towards his navel with expertise. The German's mouth was now playing at his slender neck, nipping down his throat and at his collarbone, tempting Ran's curdling blood to alter into a boiling pool of crimson desire, and the Weiß assassin moaned in protest, not wanting this but wanting this and hating himself for it more and more with each second that passed.

 

Meanwhile, Schuldig was grinning like a lunatic as he continued to ravage that beautifully paled skin, loving every twitch, sigh, and groan that involuntarily escaped his kitten, and frankly, he was surprised things were going so well, so…easy. In truth, the telempath had expected to be gutted for just existing, much less breathing the air in Ran's bedroom, but when his toy had fallen inside, his thoughts had been scattered, confused, and oddly, hurt.

 

That one had taken the cake, icing and all.

 

Schuldig hadn't been prepared for that.

 

Ran was usually so cool, so collected, but that outer wall had cracked, crumbled as easily as the German hadn't expected it to. It was…weird, but no overly dissatisfying.

 

That's right, my pretty Ran. I said you'd like it. Projecting his thoughts so openly rushed him with a mixture of barely harnessed excitement and a flood of embarrassment, leaving the telempath slightly stunned even as he worked on moving the half-paralyzed Ran towards that impossibly comfortable bed of his while continuing his foreplay ministrations. Surely someone as attractive, as intelligent, as…mysterious as Ran Fujimiya wasn't a virgin? Surely…

 

Schuldig probed a little deeper and immediately pulled away from the worried skin of the other redhead's shoulder.

 

Blue eyes met terrified, shattered violet.

 

“You can't be serious!” he exclaimed, at an advantage as Ran had yet to order his thoughts and recollect himself. “You can't be fucking serious!”

 

Abyssinian's mental queries told him he had no idea what he was talking about. Abruptly, Schuldig smirked.

 

“How'd you manage to pull it off without…exploding?” Slender fingers twined themselves in locks of red, pulling their bodies close once again. “I mean...didn't you have the urge to just grab anything and screw it?” He placed a light kiss on Ran's frozen mouth. “Or maybe-”

 

“Shut up!” The command out-rightly shocked him, and Schuldig stared at him, wonder in his gaze, waiting for Ran to continue. Yet, he wasn't expecting anything that was spoken. “If you're going to rape me, just do it. I can't stand being tormented like this.” The German peered at him for a moment, thinking he'd lost his mind, that he'd finally cracked and this was some delusion of that breakdown. He wasn't really here, he hadn't been toying with Ran Fujimiya out of pure spite, and he certainly hadn't been kissing the obnoxious little prick, either. That's what Schuldig wanted to believe, but he knew it wasn't true. The “fearless” Weiß leader was just too afraid to accept what was happening and let loose. Ran didn't have control, and that's what scared him.

 

Schuldig laughed harder than he had in a long time.

 

“I don't find this the least bit funny. So, I suggest you stop laughing.”

 

And, who's going to make…he felt something sharp press against his throat, me?

 

“My katana.” The telempath should have seen it coming, but he hadn't. He wasn't precognitive, not like Mister-I've-Got-A-Stick-Up-My-Ass-Crawford, but with his ability to read thoughts and pre-determine action, he should have seen it, but…he hadn't.

 

His telepathy must have been really off.

 

Schuldig's azure eyes frosted slightly, disliking the fact he wasn't having fun anymore, and he examined Ran's stance as thoroughly as he could without delving into his brain to read what he was thinking. His back was stiff, nervous energy vibrating from the very muscles he held rigid with years of practiced restraint, and the blade glaring intently at him with its silver gaze quivered slightly, increasing he pressure against his larynx. Schuldig felt himself gagging and knew it was time to stop messing around. He'd come here for a reason, not just because he'd been told to, but everything was getting too far out of hand, out of mind. Of course, that reason hadn't included actually meeting his boring pet face-to-face, but when he'd sensed his presence climbing those weary steps towards his bedroom, Schuldig had found himself sliding through the window and melting into the shadows, waiting…

 

The German sighed almost sympathetically.

 

“You win,” he spoke under his breath, tentatively pushing away the sword jabbing at his skin. A swarm of heavy confusion drifted into Schuldig's mind, and the bewilderment on Ran's face was priceless.

 

“W-what?”

 

“I said `you win.'” Taking advantage of the other's lack of movement, he stood, dusting off the pants he'd carefully taken the time to choose for this particular purpose. “Hard of hearing, little red?”

 

“N-no…” Ran shook his head.” What do you want, Schuldig? Why are you here?” A smirk fueled the terror knocking against Ran's heart.

 

“Oh, come now, Ran-chan. Why do you think I'm here?”

 

“I-” Schuldig made a mental note that Ran was so cute when he was flustered, and while he stammered over trying to figure out what, exactly, the German's game was, Schuldig merrily walked to the bed and flopped on it, red hair fanning out in the same manner as his arms and legs. He lay spread-eagle on the oh-so-comfortable mattress, allowing the other time to contemplate, to “decipher” his true intentions, but the abrupt sound of Ran's katana hitting the ground jerked him up, disrupting his calm. He watched in blatant horror as his lovely little kitten fell to his knees, hands covering his eyes, and cried. Schuldig grimaced, staring at him through a slanted sapphire gaze. There was nothing in his personal book, collected over many tried experiments, that explained how to handle this type of situation, in fact, he'd never had it happen before, and he did the only thing he could possibly think of doing. He stood, marched directly towards the weeping assassin, tilted his face back, and kissed him.

 

It was soft, more a mingling of breath than an actual kiss, but with Ran's fingers pressed between their faces…

 

Ran moaned, hands sliding free, arms wrapping around Schuldig's shoulders, and with the other's weight tugging on him, that sleek body so well-trained from a life of murder bowed forward, they tumbled to the floor, Schuldig landing rather hard on his side. The other man leeched onto the German, his lips parting to allow Schuldig entrance, and the telempath could do nothing except comply.

 

Kiss me…kiss me…

 

Schuldig's mind buzzed with Ran's thoughts. He no longer seemed confused or terrified at the prospect of doing…whatever it was they were doing. Ran was ravaging him like a maniac despite the precious inexperience he exhibited through rough gropes and sloppy kisses, and Schuldig didn't have the clarity to thoroughly think as Ran slithered a hand under his shirt, rubbing the skin he found. There was a gasp, and in his disorientation, Schuldig didn't realize it was his own until Ran removed his mouth and laughed softly in his ear.

 

The German was at a loss. He hadn't a clue as to what was happening, and he refused to dip his mind into the other's because he didn't want to know what was going on up there.

 

He wanted it.

 

He didn't want it.

 

Either way, Schuldig really wished Ran would hurry up and decided because…because…

 

He couldn't take it anymore!

 

“I can play, too,” Ran purred, blowing heated air over Schuldig's earlobe. “Are you sure you want to play…Schuldig?” The telempath nudged a knee between Ran's thighs, pressing into the apex of his groin with force, and he went still, his heart pounding furiously.

 

This was…

 

Schuldig flipped Ran onto his back, leaning over him so that tendrils of orange caressed the other's cheek, and his nose nuzzled at Ran's, his breath mingling with his own.

 

You really need to get your priorities straight, sweetheart, Schuldig thought, aiming it directly into the core of Ran's thoughts, past his delicate yet somehow powerful shields. I've wanted to play from the beginning. The question is do you want to play with me?

 

Without giving him room for thought, Schuldig attacked Ran's puzzled expression with his mouth, his tongue hot and moist as it violated his lips and plunged inside, no longer giving him the benefit of the doubt. If Ran could tease him to the point that he would explode with just the thought, then Schuldig sure as hell wasn't going to stop until he did…inside him.

 

It was an odd…thing.

 

Schuldig didn't dare call this the beginning of a relationship because it wasn't. Period. End of story. The German Mastermind had never had one of those before, too much depression and angst, not enough sex, and he wasn't planning to start now. If Ran Fujimiya wanted to be fucked, Schuldig would do so willingly. If he wanted anything else, he'd have to look elsewhere.

 

Schuldig did not do sentimental, and that's what he was asking for if he allowed himself to become entangled.

 

Ran surrendered to his ministrations without much resistance, moaning when questing hands slid over his clothed torso, down his sides, and across his groin. He didn't try to stop him this time, and though the telempath couldn't grasp the exact reason why he wasn't fighting, he didn't question it. Schuldig didn't question anything when he was so close to screwing the thing he'd been carefully watching for months. He wasn't a very patient person by nature, and now…he wasn't going to let the opportunity slip through his fingers.

 

Schuldig quickly unbuttoned Ran's pants and attempted wiggling them down his hips.

 

Come on, babe. Help me here.

 

There was hesitance in his thoughts.

 

Don't even think about backing out now. Schuldig roughly tugged at the jeans. “If not now…then later.” It was clear by the look in those huge violet eyes that Ran didn't have a choice. He'd brought this upon himself for not noticing the “signs” earlier.

 

My fault…

 

“Oh, loosen up. You're going to enjoy this.”

 

“I-”

 

“Shh.” Schuldig kissed him silent as he finally managed to shove that aggravation barrier to Ran's knees. Curiosity got the better of him, and he looked down.

 

“Why Ran…I didn't know you owned underwear that color.” Schuldig chuckled at the blush staining the other's cheeks and watched it darken when he slipped fingers under the elastic band of the white cotton briefs. He barely skimmed flesh and Ran was twitching slightly, his back arching. “Tut, tut,” he chided gently, maneuvering to use the other hand to press down his pelvis. “Easy on the trigger, cowboy.” The German's words confused him, but he did as instructed, quivering in anticipation.

 

He didn't have a clue as to what-

 

Liquid heat enveloped his half-formed erection, engulfing him completely, and since Schuldig was holding him immobile, Ran whimpered instead, teeth tearing into already bruised flesh as something recognizably unfamiliar flooded through him. It was hot and lovely, bone-melting in intensity, and Ran dug his fingernails into the floor beneath him, gouging the tips into the wood hard enough to leave impressions. He desperately wanted to do something more, thrust up, anything, but Schuldig wouldn't allow him this freedom, and…

 

He screamed.

 

The sound was low and throaty, pleasant to the German's ears even as he continued his ministrations, but he wanted more than the taste of Ran's skin in his mouth, more than the noises he admitted.

 

Schuldig wanted to take his virginity and throw it out the window. He wanted to feel that vice-gripping fire around him as he came.

 

He shivered excitedly at the thought and tested Ran by brushing his thumb inward over his thigh. There was a shudder and another moan.

 

Ran wanted this, too, and Schuldig never disappointed.

 

Sliding his tongue over the head of Ran's penis, he removed his mouth to climb to his knees. Schuldig's hand shook ever so slightly as he unfastened his pants and freed himself from the confines of tight material just enough to complete his purpose at hand. Amethyst eyes glowed brightly in the dark, full of fear and something resembling quiet excitement, and the telempath smirked, the expression as close to a true smile he could reach. Schuldig sucked a finger between his lips, lubing it with his own spit before reaching between Ran's thighs with his free hand to lift his hips up. At this point, he was glad he was so coordinated. It was just as well, anyway. Ran had no idea what was about to happen, and Schuldig was glad for that. The German could vaguely remember his first time like this, though a different time, not quite such a nice place, and he wouldn't be able to dissipate any of the pain whatsoever. Yet…

 

Yet, he could try being gentle.

 

Though…

 

Though he didn't know if…

 

A sharp wave of pain radiated directly past his shields from Ran's mind when he wiggled a finger into the other's entrance, but other than that, he heard nothing. However, Ran's body was as stiff as a board, thrumming with tense energy.

 

Relax, honey. Schuldig made a small beckoning motion with his finger, moving deeper inside with that single movement.

 

“I'm…” there was a huge intake of breath, “t-try…”

 

Relax.

 

Schuldig pushed another finger into him, hoping he was distracted by the sound of his voice enough to not notice, but Ran cried out in pain, muffling it with his forearm, biting his skin and leaving teeth marks. He didn't want anyone to hear him, to know that…that this was…happening. Leaning over, the German placed a tender kiss on Ran's belly.

 

Easy. I'm almost…Schuldig flicked both fingers upward, hoping to…

 

Ran groaned heavily, racked by an overwhelming jolt of pleasure that immediately melted him into liquefied flesh, and when Schuldig did it again, he hadn't the strength to respond. Only his choked breaths were evidence he was still alive and conscious enough to truly feel it.

 

There.

 

Moving closer as he removed his fingers, the telempath grabbed his hardened flesh, giving himself a masochistic squeeze before slowly easing himself in. Ran was relaxed enough to accept him without too much self-control on Schuldig's part, and then, he moved. Ran lay beneath him, neither resisting or contributing to this intimacy that had been forced upon him, but when Schuldig wrapped a hand around his wilted erection, he bucked up, revived once again. Schuldig would have bet his life that Ran was just a little sadistic, and he slammed harder into him at the thought. He was burning up inside, desperate to reach release each time Ran's muscles loosened as he withdrew and drastically tightened when he returned for another taste of Ran “Aya” Fujimiya's no longer existent virginity, and when he opened the link between them, Schuldig lost himself in the sharp flare of colors pouring into his mind, moaning uncontrollably as he continued, droplets of sweat clinging strands of his hair to the sides of his face.

 

Ran called out, a jumble of words twisted around his tongue falling from his mouth, and Schuldig tasted the previously closed memories of his lover, consumed by the images revealed to him.

 

There were smiles and blood, bodies swarming in piles of other bodies, clawing up to reach the blackness above, and the telempath found himself gasping for air, the thoughts and emotions combining together to slam his senses at once. Ran's thighs trembled as they tightened reflexively around Schuldig's waist, urging him to hurry.

Hurry…

 

Schuldig arched his back, thrusting hard, fast, losing count of how many times he heard Ran moaning through clenched teeth, and in the end, as he tumbled over the edge, forever lost in that single moment, he realized that it had been a fast coupling but so completely mind-blowing that the voices in his head, the images and feelings, momentarily disappeared. He collapsed on top of Ran, aware of the shudders running through the other, panting with each intake of breath, and the second he could hear himself think, Schuldig's sarcasm returned, his mouth sliding to Ran's ear.

 

“Very nice, little kitten,” he purred, biting his lobe quickly before pulling away. “But…gotta run. You know how it is.” A bitter expression slid onto Ran's sweaty features, and he looked away after that, shame filtering across his face and Schuldig's mind.

 

Shame?

 

Ran was…ashamed of this?

 

Schuldig grabbed Ran's jaw, stroking his skin until those lovely violet eyes shyly gazed back at him. He opened his mouth to speak, but the other took advantage of the situation and kissed him, lapping at his tongue. That familiar sense of Ran responding flooded over him, and German nipped at his lips, withdrawing slowly.

 

Look on the bright side, sweetheart. Another light kiss dusted Ran's skin.

Then, Schuldig was on his feet, readjusting his clothes and untangling his hair, leaving Ran's disheveled self cold, and the telempath winked at him before leaving the way he'd come, climbing gracefully out the window.

 

Ran lay there, staring at the ceiling and its shadows, blinking at it, and he reached towards his stomach, swirling fingers in the sticky essence there. He'd actually…done it. He'd done it with…Schuldig.

 

Of all people…

 

Schuldig?

 

The redhead's thoughts tossed back and forth for a long while, still semi-unsure of what it had meant.

 

Everything had a meaning.

 

A meaning…

 

But…he didn't know.

 

Ran eventually gave up, shaking his head and licking dry lips as he sat up. The German's taste remained in his mouth, and he could feel him…

 

Drawing in a shaky breath, he stood, knowing, deep in his soul that this would happen again, and when it did, he'd be ready. He wouldn't allow Schuldig inside his mind, and maybe, just maybe, he'd finally realize the significance of wanting this…of lusting red.

 

 

~END~