Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Twisted You ❯ On a Mission ( Chapter 3 )

Disclaimer: Weiß is not mine. Neither is Schwarz. I don't think I want Schreiend or Takatoris or SS or Kritiker.

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Schuldig winced as he placed some weight on his injured foot and felt sharp pain course through his thigh. Not only had he gotten shot on a mission, he also had to listen to Crawford's rambling. Although he supposed he should grateful because Brad had decided that his stupidity did not warrant a punishment.

His own sharp tongue had nearly gotten him into trouble, though.

"What? I made a wrong judgment. So? I thought no one was perfect. Or maybe you expected more, Braddie-baby?"

Crawford had taken off his glasses and was cleaning them with a small cloth. His cold brown eyes glared harshly. "You are impudent and rebellious."

"Impulsive and thoughtless." Crawford continued to highlight Schuldig's many flaws, never mind that he knew them all too well already. "Not to mention the fact that you have a distinct lack of a brain."

"Maybe you should have thought to check my head for signs of higher mental function before you dumped me into this team."

"I do regret not foreseeing that. I suppose it made perfect sense for you to run straight into the line enemy fire."

All right. So it was a little dumb.

"Well, I thought we were supposed to complete every mission or die trying?"

Crawford put on his glasses, and the light reflected off it hid his eyes. "I said that, yes, but it didn't mean that we're a suicide team. Yesterday we could have waited for a better chance-"

"I sorry that I don't have any precognitive powers, Brad."

Crawford's face was completely expressionless, and betrayed no sign of annoyance, despite the violent anger that Schuldig could almost sense. "A few more missions, a bit more carelessness and recklessness, and you'll get yourself killed."

Unfazed by the ominous prediction, the redhead placed a hand delicately on his chest and said in a mock stiletto, "Oh, Bradley! I'm so touched! I didn't know you cared."

"You're right; I don't care," Crawford informed him in a low, dangerous voice. "If I ever see the need to get a new telepath and I'll kill you myself, before they get you, and worry about lengthy procedures later."

"Christ, Brad! You need to get laid, fast. Although I don't see anyone who'd want to. Maybe you ought to remove that huge stick I know you've got shoved up your ass before-"

Crawford stood abruptly and landed a vicious backhand across Schuldig's face, right at the spot that he had hit him the previous night. He shifted his head such that his glasses no longer caught the light, and looked down at his subordinate with frozen, narrowed eyes.

Schuldig pushed himself up on his elbows so he could glower back. His cheekbone felt like it was fractured, and it hurt like hell, but he refused to touch it, to acknowledge the injury.

For a moment there, Schuldig thought that Crawford really would kill him for revealing one of his upsetting theories about the American. After a drawn-out staring contest, however, Crawford had just walked away, damn that man.

Ignoring the pain in his thigh, which was only just grazed, not really shot - what the hell was Mr. Anal-retentive getting so worked up about? - and abused cheek, Schuldig stood in the shadows of a dilapidated old mansion and waited.

His face wasn't permanently damaged, thank God, and Schu-schu was going to have some fun.

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"Go!"

Upon hearing Omi's cue from their communicators, Aya and Yohji ran from their hiding places to the second entrance of the mansion, quickly taking out four guards. At the other side of the building, Ken and Omi were doing the same.

In a flash of thin filament and a three feet long piece of sharp metal, the guards inside were gone as well. A long hallway and five more dead men later, they encountered a stairway. Aya nodded, and Yohji went up while Abyssinian continued to search the ground floor.

Their mission tonight was to assassinate a drug lord, and find and destroy his stash of imported Ecstasy. Simple, routine, boring, but apparently, they had more meaty hunks of security than Kritiker had informed them. Typical, really, but it still pissed Yohji off.

Pressing his ear to a shut door, the blond quickly determined that there was no one inside. As he was going further along the corridor, a pair of strong arms suddenly wrapped around him. Struggling and flailing blindly, Yohji managed to hit something behind him with his fist.

There was a pained yelp, and Yohji broke free of the loosened embrace, turning swiftly to face his enemy. His first thought was, 'oh damn'. The psychotic telepath of Schwarz scowled back at him.

His next thought was, 'oh wow'. He didn't think he'd hit Schuldig's face that hard.

When the third thought finally occurred to Yohji, he spoke into his mouthpiece, "Guys, trouble. We've got Schw- Hey!"

In a movement too fast to be seen, Schuldig's hand shot out and crushed the mouthpiece. Suddenly, there was a patter of hurried footsteps from down the corridor, too many to be either of their teammates. And from the sound of it, they were coming really fast too.

Well. Speedy thinking was never Yohji's expertise.

Therefore, without much consideration, he opened the door, which was unlocked, and pulled Schuldig in after him. The room was quite bare, with the exception of a closet-like piece of furniture. No windows, no other doors.

Yohji pushed the redhead into the cupboard and squeezed in himself, turning such that he could pull the wooden doors shut.

It had looked like one of those things used to store cleaning equipment, but that was apparently history, as it was totally empty. It was also surprisingly tall, although rather shallow, and there were no other hiding places, so…

So that was how Yohji ended up stuck in a cramped place with his knees bent sideways and his back pressed against his redheaded nemesis' chest.

Great.

Yohji wondered briefly why he had, on impulse, tried to save his enemy. At least Schuldig wasn't attempting to shoot him. He hoped not.

"Mm…you know, this isn't too bad," a voice purred into his ear and hands brushed his clothed thighs.

Yohji shoved the wandering appendages away roughly.

"Tell me if someone is going to bust open this door. Or when there are no enemies around," the Japanese ordered coldly, then added as an afterthought. "Other than you, that is."

This was turning out to be much more fun than Schuldig had expected. "Hmm, what do I get for doing that?"

"How about some candy and a pat on the head?"

Sarcasm. How lovely.

"I was thinking about something more interesting…"

"Aya can do ikebana."

"What about a night of private screaming and sweating?"

"I could get you one of my dates…"

"I meant with you."

"No!"

"Then I'm not helping you."

"Why the hell not!" Yohji demanded in what he hoped was a discreet whisper. "You're in the same situation as I am, here…"

"Ah, but you'd get shot first. That's enough time for me to react."

"And besides you wouldn't want to be stuck in this stupid, tiny cupboard…"

/But maybe I do, Kätzchen./

Yohji could practically smell the damn German's wide smirk stinking up the already oxygen-deprived air. Gritting his teeth and valiantly resisting the urge to pout, Yohji shifted, trying to place his right hand over that special switch on his watch.

Can't.

There was never enough space in this wretched thing in the first place, and I always knew Schuldig's ego was wayyyyy too large to be healthy, not to mention the fact that he's goddamn fat.

Surprising, there wasn't a cutting reply to Yohji's little mental tirade. Grumbling softly, the blond wiggled, attempting the impossible. He just couldn't squeeze his hands in front of his body, and he couldn't bend them at the sides to connect them over his head either…not that there was any space above him to begin with.

Ignoring the totally unhelpful sharp intake of breath right behind his ear, Yohji squirmed a few more times before giving up. "Okay, Schuldig, listen. I can't use my weapon, so you'll have to - WHAT THE HELL!"

Yohji thrashed wildly, nearly flinging open the door and dashing to the nearest trauma therapist, screeching all the way. Never mind the legions of unfriendly people dressed in black and carrying big guns.

/Yohji! Calm down!/

/Calm down? Calm down? You try doing that when some bloodthirsty psycho is pressing his erection against your ass!/ Yohji thought back fiercely, but was thankfully keeping quiet, at least.

/I can't really help it. You do have a hot behind./

Apparently, this was an absolutely logical explanation for Yohji, because the Japanese stopped his frantic writhing, which had only been - by the way - making it worse.

Sighing, Schuldig scanned the surrounding area and efficiently erased the memories of those who had heard muffled screaming and thumping.

Of course, he had done some manipulation earlier to stop them from investigating the man-sized cupboard standing in the middle of the far wall in a room without windows or exits. If he hadn't done something, one of the guards would surely have found them already.

Ah, the things he would do for a little fling with the kitten. And he fully intended it to be a one-night thing. Or a few nights, depending on how good Yohji really was.

Besides, the sex wasn't really the point of the whole affair. Schuldig really only wanted the satisfaction of knowing the things he could make his enemy do. This way, it would be much more fun than just 'cheating' by using his goddamn powers.

He could feel it already. The dark thrill of control, power, manipulation. Being able to use someone like an obedient little puppet. Schuldig could see how Crawford got his pleasure from ordering them around.

/Schuldig? Can we get out of here now?/

The redhead frowned. They could have gotten out of there without being shot to pieces fifteen minutes ago, but he hadn't minded the situation too much. Deciding that it was hard to think depressing, sadistic thoughts when Yohji's body was molded against his, Schuldig thought he'd let him go.

/Ja./

Opening the door a fraction of an inch, Yohji peeked out cautiously.

Schuldig rolled his eyes. "I already said there's no one out there! I wouldn't want to kill my current favourite toy, anyway."

Giving Schuldig a dirty look that went to waste because of poor lighting, Yohji stepped out and was mildly surprised when a hole didn't appear in his body. Okay, what the hell do I do now?

"Your teammates have already gotten most of the guards. Now they are looking for your target and the drugs."

Yohji growled. "Why are you doing this? You're not on a Schwarz mission so what are you here for?"

Schuldig grinned. "I thought it was pretty clear what I wanted."

"And you're not getting it," Yohji announced, walking out of the room, then whirling back when Schuldig went after him. "Don't follow me."

The German held up his hands in a mock gesture of compliance. "I'm not following you anywhere. In fact, I'm getting the hell out of here now. Your fellow kitties are chasing the target right this way."

Suddenly, Schuldig fisted a hand in his hair and was pressing their lips together. Yohji tried to protest, but ended up having an extra tongue in his mouth. When it occurred to him to bite, Schuldig had already let go.

An address of a café flashed through his mind. /See you there tomorrow, Kudou./

Yohji was about to comment that Schuldig must be really demented if he sincerely thought that the blonde was showing up when he heard distant gunshots and yelling. And Schuldig was leaving anyway so Yohji turned his attention away and fiddled with his watch, waiting for the enemy.

Tbc…

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Okay, okay, really lousy anti-climax ending there. But the rest of it wasn't too bad… right? Please review this thing. Oh, yeah, if all goes well, Yo-chan and Schu-chan will be having sex next chapter. ^_^ Is that too soon? And er, I'll try to make it not NC-17. Again: review, please!