Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Mine ❯ Mine... ( Chapter 1 )

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

Sweat sheened the two bodies as their lips met, both greedily feasting off of the other. The German on the bottom panted, his tenor voice rising in a soft plea even as his hips danced upwards, striving for the climax he craved. Across the white pillow beneath his head, crimson locks of hair laid out like a fan, covering the ivory purity of it with their fire. Thin nails dragged down the seme's back, leaving pinkish red lines in their wake. Beneath a curtian of scarlet lashes, shards of jaden eyes heavily glazed with lust gazed upwards. A dart of a kittenish tongue across his lips was the last of his beggings.

The moans were wasted on the man atop, his muscle laced arms planted on either side of his lover. It was a show of restrained power as his wettened body rippled with each thrust, a fight to keep himself contained when all he wanted was to go into a frenzy. A hand rose carelessly to shove back chocolate locks of hair from his eyes, locking them once more on the visage beneath his. The tightening rush of climax was already starting deep in his groin, raging like a wildfire as it broke its fragile bonds of his self control. Gathering Schuldich into his arms without warning, he sat up and thrust up and into the telepath with a breathless call of his name. Warmth spread across the brunette's stomache as his lover shuddered, semen erupting from his tortured arousal.

*
Brad Crawford's face remained a perfect blank as he viewed all of this, the images too clear in his mind's eye as they flashed. The important things he couldn't see clearly... noooo... that would be too easy, but let Schuldich be out getting fucked by someone, and suddenly his precognative ability decided it was time to not be on the fritz. Fingers that had been tapping away at the keys of his laptop were still, held poised to continue at any moment. Stormcloud blue eyes blinked slowly, losing the distant look to them that spoke of one of his visions being present.

Coming back to himself, Brad's gaze met the faintly concerned one of Nagi, the Japanese boy standing at his side. There was no physical contact between the two, both knowing of and respecting the other's wish for space when it came to their personal preferences. Saving the document he had been working on, the American uncoiled himself from the chair, rising to his feet. "I'm fine, Nagi-kun. Schuldich has ran into a problem, and I'm going to have to go get him."

Disinterested and cool tones of Crawford's voice gave no hint of the slow rage that was building within him. To all appearances, he was his usual detached self as he reminded Nagi of Farfarello needing his evening medications before sleep and to ask for him to turn back the covers on Schuldich's bed. There was no question in his mind that he was coming home with their errant Schwarz member. There would be no discussion on it. It was simply the way things were.

*
As their leader slipped out into the night, Nagi shut the door behind him, leaving the deadbolts undone. When Crawford returned, most likely cradling Schuldich in his arms, locks would only frustrate him more. As much as their stoic leader prided himself on not letting her personal side show before others, Nagi saw through in, peeking at the visions offered in the rare cracks he had in his fascade. He had seen Brad get that silent and deadly look before, the broiling of a storm just below the surface. He had seen Brad return on those evenings carrying a drunk and/or high Schuldich up to his room. He had seen the sprays of crimson droplets that had clung to the American's jacket, hands, pants, or once across his face.

Sighing heavily, Nagi turned towards the stairs, moving down them to check on Farfarello.

*
Youji stretched as he stepped out the door of the motel room, sparing a glance backwards to the sleeping form of Schuldich. Pulling on his overcoat in the coolness of the night air, the assassin's green gaze fell on his watch. The wire contained within was slowly tugged out, a depression falling over him. He couldn't be like normal people and have a fun one night stand, could he? Couldn't just enjoy the the German's body and the leave. What if he did go, and Schuldich killed someone? What if Schuldich killed Ken, Aya, or worse yet, Omi. Stepping back inside, he nudged the door shut, not noticing the hand that caught it before it could click home.

As languid as a panther stalking prey, Youji moved back to the bed, pulling more of the razor sharp filiment loose. If he did it quick enough, Schuldich would never know. The Schwarz telepath had been more than a little drunk when he'd stumbled into him in the club and was now sleeping off the combination of alcohol and good sex. Finger encased in black leather touched that pale cheek, stroking it along with a tumble of riotous red hair. If he had only met him in another time and place...

Dropping a last kiss of tenderness across the sleeper's lips, Youji rose, looping his wire with his right hand and preparing to bring it down. A muted click from behind him stopped that without hesitation, a cold circle that could only be a gun barrel pressed across the nape of his neck. The cold tones of the leader of Schwarz drifted over his shoulder, each word slowly said as if in patience with a small and not especially bright child, "You will release that wire and let it go back. Then, you will step to the side and start walking for the door. If you do anything other than these two things, you will not live to regret it. Am I understood?"

Youji nodded slowly, his eyes dropping to Schuldich once more. Two choices... he could do as told, or he could try to strike out at Schuldich and probably kill him before getting his head blown off. Whatta choice. There were too many pretty girls and guys left to date than die, at least for tonight. Fingers released the wire as it spun back, snapping back into the mundanely deceptive looking watch. Keeping his hands spread and before him, Youji began walking for the door, body coiling to dive out of it.

Crawford lowered the gun as soon as the playboy had gone, his expression still locked in an icy grip as he waited. His ability had already told him that the other wouldn't be back, and that he'd spend the rest of his night on the lookout for Schwarz. In the end, it didn't matter. Nothing much in the present mattered to one who looked to the future and knew what to expect. There were few surprises, but unfortunately, they were of the nasty variety. He had time with this though. Of that he was sure.

Content that all of Weiß wasn't going to come crashing down on him, Crawford's arms slid gently under Schuldich's limp form. The edge of the cheap hotel blanket was wound tenderly about the sleeping male, tucked at the edges to keep the chilly air outside from reaching that soft skin. A soft complaint escaped as he rose to his feet, cradling Schuldich in his arms as he would a slumbering child... a child that had been eating too much junk food it felt like.

The drive back home was silent, Crawford leaving the radio off and the heater on. Pushing open the door, he noted Nagi leaving it open for him. Sometimes he had to wonder just how much the mostly withdrawn telekinetic took in of his surroundings and merely didn't comment on. Pushing it shut with his foot, he headed up the stairs, still carrying Schuldich. Laying the redhead on the bed, he moved into the bathroom, nose wrinkling in distaste. He could just -smell- Kudou on him. The suit was a complete loss. Not even drycleaning could remove that stench. Stripping off his clothing, he showered off, removing it as best he could. The chair would do for the night with sleeping until he could get Schu on his feet to do the same.

*
A week passed and another mission came in. As Weiß was leaving the building in seperate directions, Kudou Youji found himself staring down the barrel of that same gun instead of having it pressed to the back of his head. Crawford's voice bore that same air of uncaring as it had when he'd faced him before. "Your tragedy, Balinese, is that you're not going to die because you're Weiß. You aren't going to die for your holy war against the darkness. You aren't even going to die for a real purpose that anyone other than myself knows of."

"Then why? Because I fucked Schuldich?"

"No, because you desecrated something that was mine."

The report of the gunshot sounded too loudly in the enclosed garage as Crawford walked away.