Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ The Blanket ❯ The Blanket ( One-Shot )

"Nani?" Omi squealed as pure darkness enveloped him.

A maniacal chuckle was his only answer. "Is little Bombay afraid of the dark?"
Omi whirled around, catching his foot on the edge of the sofa and falling into Berserker's lap. Bondage pants did not feel good against his skin. His squirm betrayed his nervousness at being trapped alone with Schwarz. "Do you think we're stuck here?"

Farfarello laughed again, and almost sounded sane for a moment. "I think the sound of the lock turning and the lights going out are a pretty good indication."

Omi sighed and crawled to the other cushion. "We need to find a way out. I can't stay here all night."

"With me," Farf teased.

"With you," Omi agreed. "I have to work in the morning and I doubt even you would rather be here than doing anything else."

Farf stepped gingerly through the small space until he found the only source of light. He turned on the lava lamp and used the light to look around. There wasn't a light switch in the room. It should really be a considered a closet. There were no windows at all and the only air vent had been plastered over until only a slit remained.

The shop's employees used it as a break room. There was a ragged orange sofa stuffed against the "long" wall, and a small under-counter fridge beside it. The "table" consisted of a piece of wood perched on a stack of merchandise - lube and vibrators mostly - and held magazines and an overflowing ashtray. More merchandise was stacked against the other long wall, with the lava lamp perched on the fridge.

"I like the blue lamps, but this will do. Once it gets started anyway."

"They take forever," Omi agreed. He peaked into the fridge. Unfortunately no one had left their lunch in there. Omi found three bottles of water, various energy drinks, a pack of cigarettes, and a small box of chocolates. The tiny freezer compartment, blessedly, held a pint of vanilla ice cream. "It's not even open!" Omi said excitedly.

Farfarello stared intently at him as he settled on the couch. He watched the boy search for a spoon and, failing, using his fingers delicately.

"It's soft, so I don't need a spoon," Omi pointed out, disconcerted by the staring.

"Are you going to share?" Farf asked softly. He found the kid interesting. Omi came into the shop once or twice a week with his friend Momiji, whose sister worked there. The store was called Fetish, and as it catered to his fashion sense, Farf was a regular customer.

One day nearly four weeks ago he'd been shopping only to look down and see Bombay helping to bag his purchase. The shop had been exceptionally bushy that day, and it happened again. Still, they saw enough of one another to banter comfortably in front of Momiji and his sister, so they didn't suspect any odd relationship.

In fact, their act had gotten so good no one had thought anything of it when they'd disappeared into the back together. Omi was supposed to get Farf a new mesh shirt from the storeroom, but they'd stopped in the break room and promptly gotten into a heated teasing match about the ugly sofa and various potential torturous uses for the items stored in there.

In fact, Berserker was rather entertaining when he wasn't trying to kill him.

But now they were stuck together until the shop opened the next day. The lava lamp was on, but the wax hadn't melted yet. The water was red and colored the shadows strangely.

Omi watched Farf take a fingerful of soft vanilla ice cream. Berserker's eye closed and he murmured happily before taking several more.

Farf noticed. "Don't you want any?"

Omi realized he'd only taken one bite, so he took two fingers full to compensate. Unfortunately, the ice cream was soft and he'd taken too much so it started to drip down his hand. He licked it off daintily, only to find Farf's eye glowing at him intently.

Farf thought hentai thoughts as little Bombay licked sticky white cream off his fingers. He wondered idly if he could get him to lick his fingers and shuddered.

Omi felt heat in his stomach at Berserker's consuming gaze. Suddenly he wasn't hungry anymore. "I suppose we should go to sleep now?" Farf nodded and Omi put the ice cream back in the freezer.

They both noticed the squalor then. Boxes were stacked everywhere and any bare carpet was severely stained. The sofa wasn't very large, but could possibly fit the two of them. A small blanket hung over one arm, ragged with cigarette burns.

Omi looked at the blanket and shuddered, suddenly realizing the heat had been turned off overnight. "We should share, ne?"

"I don't like people touching me," Farf argued.

"I'm not excited about the idea myself, but there's nowhere else to go."

Farf snorted. "Fine, but I get in first. If anyone's gonna fall off the bed, it'll be you."
They settled in fully clothed under the ratty blanket and eventually drifted off to sleep.

**

Omi woke with his mouth full. He'd been having his favorite dream, the one where a tall stranger walks into the Koneko, takes him into the back room and, well, takes advantage of him. The position always varied, but it was always rough and tumble. Usually he couldn't discern the man's features, but he suddenly got a glimpse of silver hair and an eye patch.

He jerked fully awake and realized he was drooling on Berserker's neck. His mouth was full of t-shirt and the delicate skin where neck meets shoulder. He must have jerked hard, because he suddenly felt an annoyed golden eye glaring at him.

"What. Are. You. Doing?" Farf growled.

"Sorry, dream," Omi mumbled.

Farf batted at his neck. "That explains the drool. Who about?"
"Oom," Omi said into Farf's shirt.

"Nani?"

"You," he whispered.

Farf blinked. The kid was having a dream about him? A sexy dream about him? This was impossible - no one though of him that way. At least, no one who knew him did. Strangers might find him attractive, but that only lasted until they touched him or talked to him. He was insane after all, and didn't like to be touched. Except, if he was being honest with himself, the kid felt really good all cradled up against him, and if what he felt against his thigh was what he thought it was, Omi really had been having a good dream about him.

Omi groaned as Farf's hand ghosted across the front of his shorts, which suddenly got tighter. His hips snapped up automatically, and Farf's answering touch was firmer this time.

"Do you like when I touch you?" Farf asked, teasing his fingers across again.

Omi tightened his arms around Farf's neck and pulled his body closer. "Yes, please, again."

Farf felt him through the thin cotton, amazed at the heat coming off the other boy. Omi groaned and melted into him. Farf felt Omi kiss him quickly and blinked in surprise. Omi blushed and looked away. Farf pulled Omi's head up so he could look at him. "You can touch me, too, if you want." He tried not to sound like he craved it.

Omi's mouth was warm and he tasted of vanilla when he kissed Farf again. They dueled for control of the kiss, tongues thrusting and twining. Omi ground himself into Farf's answering erection and whimpered. "Farfie, please." Omi hated the weakness of his own voice, but decided this wasn't the time to worry about his pride.

Farf popped the button on Omi's shorts and reached inside, past the scant barrier of underwear, to his prize. Silken skin formed itself to his palm as he began stroking.

Omi groaned and rolled. Suddenly there was a sharp crash as he fell off the sofa, pulling Farf on top of him, who kicked the wooden tabletop, sending the ashtray against the far wall and the stacks of sex toys cascading to the floor. They stilled, waiting to see if it was all over, until the ragged blanket let go of the loveseat and drifted past their eyes.

Omi was completely mortified. Here he was having the first sexual experience, already better than his imagination had painted, and then this happens. It's not like he even tripped and fell - he completely destroyed an entire room, and probably the mood as well.

Once the chaos calmed, Farf looked down and was surprised to see Omi with his eyes tightly shut, head turned to the side, with his hands on Farf's arms like he expected something bad. Farf looked to the side and pulled something out of the pile. He tapped Omi on the forehead with it until he opened his eyes. "Look - lube!" he crowed.

Omi couldn't help it, he started to giggle. It was a happy and relaxed sound, as well as contagious. Farf started laughing, too, raining little kissed across Omi's face.

Bombay slipped his little hands under Berserker's shirt, pushing it up out of the way as he aimed for the pale pink nipples. His new lover didn't have any bandages on, but there were a few small recent wounds, and a paler map of old scars. Omi traced them all with his fingers, and lovingly placed kisses on each.

Farf shuddered. He liked the kid and all, but he'd just been thinking about taking advantage of his desire for him. Who'd have thought he'd so lovingly accept the scars, the evidence of his insanity. He shuddered again. He'd half-expected to be asked to keep his shirt on so the scars would stay hidden. Still, despite his blossoming tenderness for the boy, the lust was only rising.

"I want you," Omi moaned around a nipple.

"I want you, too," Farf agreed, tossing his shirt aside. "But,"

"What?"

"We're enemies."

Omi flicked his tongue insolently on Farf's nipple. "So?" He moved to torture the other one. "We can be enemies in the morning." He raked his fingers down his side. "But if I see you and we're not fighting, I want to be able to do this." He pulled Farf down to him and pressed himself up tightly.

All coherent thought fled from Farfarello. He tore at Omi's shirt, shredding it and tossing it aside. He nipped and sucked at Omi's exposed skin, surprised he wasn't breaking the skin.

Omi wiggled out of his pants and managed with shaky hands to unbutton his lover. When Farf didn't cooperate in removing his pants, he grabbed the strap behind his knees and pulled. This pulled Farf into a kneeling position, where he got a full view of Omi's stern expression.

The kid looked adorable even when he was trying to be serious, so Farf humored him and pulled off his pants. Omi got on his knees and pressed himself into all that bare skin. Farf bit his earlobe and sent his hands down the back of his boxers, caressing and clenching his taut ass. Omi immediately returned the favor and soon their boxers were gliding lower as they ground their hips together.

Omi pushed Farf down and jumped on top of him before he could struggle. He feverishly removed both their boxers, contorting himself into odd positions to keep Farf from dislodging him. Farf didn't actually try, but Omi was too focused to notice. Finally, after what seemed like years, they were both naked and Omi climbed back on top. At the first twitch of his hips they both groaned. Farf grabbed his hips and started rubbing their arousals together and Omi, panting desperately, braced his hands on Farf's chest.

They rubbed and ground together, and occasionally Omi would hop and drop back down with a satisfying slapping sound, but it wasn't enough. "Farfie," Omi grunted. "Please fuck me."

That was all it took to distract Farf from the glorious feel of Omi's skin. "I need to prepare you," he panted.

Omi nodded and rolled off, grinning shamelessly. Farf returned the smile, and Omi marveled at how normal he looked. A real, sane smile and suddenly he looked more dashing than sinister. Omi swore silently to himself that he'd do all he could to get more of those smiles.

Farf grinned as Omi got tangled in the blanket. They both fought valiantly until it was banished to the back of the couch. Farf positioned Omi so he was on his right side with his face toward the fridge, while he put himself facing Omi, but with his feet by his head.

Their eyes immediately locked on each other's erections. While Farf was unwrapping the lube, Omi reached out a tentative finger and dipped it into Farf's slit. Farf looked at him and gulped as Omi tasted the precum on his finger. He mimicked Omi's actions and earned a moan from Omi.

They maintained eye contact and began a game. Omi licked Farf's tip, and Farf returned the favor. Omi swirled his tongue about the head, and Farf did the same. Eventually they couldn't restrain themselves and each was enveloped in a hot mouth.

Omi gurgled happily around Farfarello. The skin was like silk and so warm, with just a hint of salt. It tasted like Farf, but muskier, like lust if it were a flavor. He never wanted to get enough of that flavor, to be satiated. He wanted to have him in his mouth and at his mercy. He could hear Farf's moaning and knew he was affecting him. He could barely focus on anything, though, because of what Farf was doing to him. He knew his legs were spread wantonly but he didn't care.

Farfarello was instantly convinced that there was such thing as natural talent at oral sex, because Omi had it. Maybe it was the big blue eyes looking at him as he sucked him down, or maybe it was the plump pink lips wrapped around his girth. It didn't matter, because if they didn't move on in a matter of moments it would be all over.

He hurried with the preparation as much as he dared, but still made sure he was stretched and wet. Omi writhed bonelessly on his pumping fingers and mewled like a kitten. "C'mere, baby," Farf whispered tenderly, reclining and returning Omi to his lap. Omi looked at him, waiting for guidance. "You get to set the pace, baby," he murmured, positioning himself at Omi's hole. "However you like it."

Omi nodded and silently vowed to make the Irishman scream his name. He settled his hips down until he was breeched. It was probably only the first inch, but Farf was wide and he found himself sweating. After a moment the sharp pain passed and he lowered himself a bit more. Now there was just a momentary discomfort. He smiled and slowly lowered himself down until he was nestled in Farf's coarse hair. It felt so good, and he wasn't even moving. He was full and stretched and consumed by the man below him. He felt strong hands caressing and gripping his hips, but they didn't try getting him to move. Farf was letting him have total control.

Farf thought he was going to die. He played with Omi's hips to keep from thrusting up into that slick heat and closed his eyes to try and regain control of himself. He felt muscles clench around his cock and blinked his eyes open in surprise. Omi was looking down at him, trying to look innocent but obviously self-satisfied. Farf growled and scraped his fingers across Omi's hips. The boy shuddered and clenched again, and Farf threw his arms out for support. His fingers found the blanket and he grabbed it. When Omi finally began a slow rise and fall on him, he twisted his hands in the blanket to keep himself occupied. Giving the chibi control had obviously been a very bad idea.

Omi thought Farf looked very young, clutching the blanket like a little boy in the throes of a bad dream. Chuckling to himself, he set about distracting him. He quickened his rhythm and alternated up and down with back and forth motions. He was panting now, and puffing out Farf's name with each breath.

Farf knew he'd his Omi's sweet spot when the boy shuddered brokenly. "Did you like that, Omi?"

"Nn, yeah," Omi whimpered.

"What do you want?"

"Fuck me, Farf, please!"

Farf growled and grabbed Omi's hips. He pulled them down hard again and again as he thrust up so that Omi was bouncing on him. "Too much?" he grunted.

"Unh…unh…No. Fuck me hard!"

Farf rolled them over roughly without losing any contact. He pointed into Omi's thrashing body, so tight and hot inside. Omi howled and panted and licked and bit, digging deep furrows into his lover's back with his fingers.

Farf felt no pain and kept on. He claimed Omi's lips with a kiss like a brand as they moved erratically together. It wasn't pretty, but it was perfect.

"Farfie, please."

"Omi, so good."

"Close."

Farf took Omi's neglected erection in one hand and stroked in time to his own thrusts. That was all it took for Omi, whose orgasm hit him like blunt force trauma. He screamed Farf's name and erupted for what felt like hours. He collapsed in a broken breathless heap and glanced up at Farf, who'd gone still, trying to maintain control.

"Farfie?" Omi began sweetly.

"Hm," Farf managed, eyes still shut.

"You're not done."

"No."

Omi began massaging Farf's chest and tweaking his nipples. He smirked at the ragged groan that was his response. "Don't you want to fuck me, Farfie?"

"Oh. Just. Hell. Omi."

Omi clenched and wrapped his legs around Farf. "Fuck me, Farfie. Hard."

Farfarello cursed Omi for the demon he was, in his head, even as he leaned forward for a kiss, nearly folding Omi in half in the process. He resumed his previous pace, thrusting deep and hard. Bombay felt like absolute heaven, a velvet grip on the inside and full of wanton sexual urges. Even as he came hard crying out Omi's name, he was thinking of different positions he could suggest in the future. Well, not when he came, but about five minutes later when he regained his capacity for rational thought.

Omi looked at his lover, who looked completely spent at the moment. He grabbed the sad little blanket and covered them with it. They'd cleared this spot on the floor and might as well use it. He smoothed Farf's hair and kissed him just under the ear. Farf wrapped an arm around Omi and settled him to cuddle on his shoulder.

"Maybe I should take a memento," Omi said quietly.

"There's tons of toys."

"I was thinking the blanket," Omi said, a little chagrined at his sentimentality. "It smells like you."
"It smells like us," Farf corrected. He gazed around at the disarray until a particular box caught his eye. "Maybe we should get locked in again next weekend."