Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Pointless ❯ One-Shot

“Pointless”
By Viridian5
8/1/04

RATING: R; Schuldig/Farfarello. If m/m interaction bothers you, pass this by.
SPOILERS: None really.
SUMMARY: Farfarello makes do with what he’s allowed.
ARCHIVAL/DISTRIBUTION: Anywhere, as long as you ask me first.
FEEDBACK: can be sent to Viridian5@aol.com.
DISCLAIMERS: All things Weiß Kreuz belong to Takehito Koyasu, Project Weiß, Polygram k.k., and Animate Film. No infringement intended.

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“Pointless”
B y Viridian5
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The man’s eyes were angry, afraid, and virgin mother blue. Farfarello slashed his forehead again to run some red into them because it bothered people to see their own blood, which made no sense to him. Bleeding proved that you were still alive, despite God’s best efforts.

It made people even more upset when blood ran into their eyes and they were too tied up to wipe it away. This one had been duct-taped to a chair. Farfarello hated these fucking office chairs with the wheels, since they moved and swiveled and he had to hold it in place with his foot and tolerate some shakiness in the clean lines he wanted to carve.

Crawford had told them that they had to wait, so Farfarello would have to make this one last a while.

“Why the fuck do Americans think all European men are gay? It pisses me off,” Schuldig said, looking ostentatiously lazy and impudent as he leaned against a desk. As usual, he had his shirt open at the top, exposing his collarbones. Farfarello wanted to take one between his teeth and bite down.

“Why are you talking such shite? You fuck men, and men fuck you,” Farfarello answered as he sliced another line to cross the most recent one. His human canvas needed more red, and so did the floor. The industrial carpeting soaked it up too quickly for his tastes.

“And anyone else I feel like. As if body parts matter.”

God gave His creations bodies, then didn’t want them to do much with them. Typical. He gave with one hand and tried to take away with the other. Farfarello loved to play with bodies.

Schuldig did too. “Why stay with one gender when there are so many minds and bodies to fuck?” When Farfarello’s victim made noises through his duct tape gag, Schuldig answered, “Who asked you?”

“You’re not helping yourself.”

“That’s not the point. There are plenty of ruler-straight Europeans out there. American men are stupid.”

“Really?” Crawford asked, sounding dangerously mild.

“You’re the only exception. When are we getting out of this shitty, god-fearing country?”

Farfarello’s next slice cut through to bone and made his victim jerk and squeak. It was almost satisfying.

“Don’t rile Berserker up when you don’t have to, Mastermind,” Crawford said. “Prodigy?”

Nagi glanced up from typing at a nearby computer keyboard. “Done.” He removed a disc from the drive.

“As are we. Wrap this up.”

Schuldig got up from his seat on the edge of the desk and stood in front of the victim so the man could see him, as well as the man could see anything with blood dripping into his eyes. “While you were busy being manly under light torture in your own American way, I took all the information we wanted from you out of your brain. We have everything we need to take your brother out, and we couldn’t have done it without you.”

Virgin mother blue eyes widened, and the man made horrified and disbelieving sounds through his gag.

“We’ll make sure we let him know right before we destroy him. Now we can kill you.”

Those eyes offended Farfarello, so he plucked them out one by one. Then he stabbed through the man’s throat and finished by licking his blade clean before he sheathed it. The body’s white shirt had turned a thick, wet, deep red. Very pretty. He left the eyes on top of the desk.

“I hate offices,” Schuldig muttered on the way out.

Farfarello held his outer peace for a while, but in the car he shifted on the plastic sheet and said, “That wasn’t satisfying.” It had been too calculated. No passion. No challenge. Anyone could slash and stab a bound man. He wanted to lose himself in something.

“Yeah?” Schuldig asked. “Well, I’m not letting you fuck me. I heard that mental comment about gnawing on me like I’m a stick of beef jerky.” But Schuldig hadn’t been satisfied either tonight, judging from the way he buzzed out.

In the front seat, Nagi said, “I can’t believe that Farfarello thought of beef jerky.”

“Not exactly but I’m illustrating a point here.”

“You have no point,” Crawford said.

“Are you saying I’m pointless?”

“Yes. And shield yourself. I don’t need to feel you.”

“Everybody needs to feel me. Not like that, Farf!” But then Schuldig writhed under Farfarello’s hand atop his cock. “Wait, yeah, just like that.”

This could suffice to work off the dissatisfaction and frustration. Schuldig could be useful that way.

“I can get out of here and get back to the hotel on my own,” Nagi said with a sigh.

“Don’t do that in front of Nagi,” Crawford said.

“If Nagi gets out it won’t be in front of Nagi. Or if he could just avoid looking in the rearview mirror it still wouldn’t be in front of Nagi,” Schuldig answered. “No gnawing on me, Farf.”

“You shouldn’t expose your collarbones like that, slut,” Farfarello answered. “You’re asking for it.”

“No gnawing.”

“I will bite.”

“A few bites are okay, but I draw the line at gnawing.”

“Wait until you reach your rooms,” Crawford said.

As if Crawford didn’t like to listen and watch. Farfarello didn’t mind, having become accustomed to being watched in the institution.

“Mmm no, Brad,” Schuldig answered as he wrapped himself around Farfarello like a serpent. “Besides, you already have plastic down.”

When they stopped at a red light, Nagi opened his door and got out, slamming it behind him. Crawford sighed but let him go.

Farfarello gave himself up to Schuldig’s lust. For lack of other, more rewarding, physical pursuits, sex would have to do.

  ***********************THE END**********************     More Viridian5 stories can be found in The Green Room version 3.0 at http://viridian.shriftweb.org/   No-frames but no-frills access available at http://viridian.shriftweb.org/index2.htm