Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ You're Joking, Right? ❯ Chapter 6

typos fixed - thanks, Wedjateye!

 

Crawford put down his coffee cup and gazed distractedly out the window. Seconds passed. His brow furrowed, then his face resumed its usual impassive mask.

 

Schuldig waited patiently to see if any explanation would be forthcoming. Patience was by no means Schuldig's natural metier, but nobody had ever gotten anything out of Brad Crawford by pushing.

 

“Stop staring at me.” Crawford's voice was flat, betraying neither annoyance nor any expectation that Schuldig might comply with his demand.

 

Fuck patience. “What did you see?”

 

Crawford looked at him for several long moments, thinking whatever the hell kinds of things Crawford thought. His glasses were sitting on the table next to his coffee cup, so at least Schuldig could see his eyes clearly.

 

“We'll need to modify our plans for this evening.”

 

Schuldig chewed on a danish as he waited for more. One bite; two bites; three bites...

 

“I'm going to ask Mr. Fujimiya to join us for a short meeting this afternoon.”

 

Schuldig perked up. Few people could yank Crawford's chain like Ran could. “Do tell.”

 

“You'll hear about it at the meeting.” He put on his glasses and got up from the table. “Now if you'll excuse me, I need to make some phone calls.”

 

Schuldig sighed. He hated not knowing things. Very few people were able to keep secrets from him, and those that could seemed to enjoy doing so just for the hell of it. Sometimes it pissed him off, but mostly it was just like having an itch he couldn't scratch. The more he dwelled on it, the more frustrated he'd get.

 

Then it occurred to him that he could go tell Farfarello the good news. He brightened at that idea. Farfarello's mind was usually impossible to read, too -- although while Crawford was like a brick wall, Farfarello was more of a raging river. Schuldig dipped his hand in and water just flowed through his fingers. Bitingly cold water. But Farfarello's thoughts became more cohesive when he was thinking about Fujimiya. And while Schuldig couldn't read much from Farf, the images he did get were always amazingly intense. Maybe he could get some more feed from that party they'd had at the warehouse last week. Schuldig grinned wolfishly, remembering the memories Farfarello had been broadcasting when he'd come home that day. Schuldig licked his lips. Ran was a brat, but he sure did put on a show.

 

Schuldig pushed his chair away from the table, coffee forgotten, and headed down the hall to Farf's room, now eager for his morning's entertainment.

 

He knocked and waited. This, too, went against his nature, but Farfarello demanded politeness in these sorts of interactions. Schuldig had learned that it made more sense to just go along with Farf on things like this -- no point in nursing a knife wound for two weeks when you could just say “Good morning” and move on.

 

“You may come in.” Farfarello's voice sounded deep and gravelly -- must have woken him up.

 

Sweeping into the room, Schuldig announced theatrically, “I bring you glad tidings of great joy.”

 

Farfarello sat up in bed, his quilt pulling distractingly low on his bare stomach. Schuldig stared, licking his lips -- if you liked them scarred, skinny and deadly, it didn't get much better than Farfarello. The man rubbed his eye and stretched. “I'm glad to hear it,” he said, yawning. “I could use a change of pace.”

 

Schuldig sat down on the bed, the motion pulling the quilt down another inch, enough to expose the sharp jut of a hipbone. “Crawford said there's a change of plans for tonight. A change of plans that apparently involves your immortal beloved. He'll be here for a meeting this afternoon.”

 

Smiling slowly, Farfarello sank back against the pillows. Waiting for an opening, Schuldig was sucked into a scene so real he briefly forgot who he was -- and ooh, he'd never seen this one before. Ran had Farf tied to some pipes -- Christ in heaven, how had he managed that? -- and was fucking him like there was no tomorrow, sucking blood like a vampire from a gaping wound on Farf's throat. Schuldig could feel it as if it were happening to him. Light-headed from blood loss, Ran's good-sized cock up his ass, ramming into him over and over... Ah, the only thing he liked more than a big dick was a big dick with staying power. Schuldig had gathered that Ran didn't top often, but he was obviously up to the task. As it were.

 

And, just like that, the vision was over. Farfarello was watching him, a dangerous look on his face. Which didn't mean anything -- Farf had few expressions that didn't look dangerous.

 

“You liked that one, did you,” Fararello noted calmly.

 

Schuldig nodded, still slightly dazed.

 

“He can defend himself from you, but I still demand that you treat him with respect.” Farfarello frowned. “If you touch him, I'll kill you.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Schuldig muttered, shaking himself out of it. “I thought you weren't a jealous man.”

 

“I have limits.”

 

Truer words were never spoken.

 

**********

 

Ran walked in at 4 on the dot -- he was always exactly on time, too efficient to be a minute late, too bitchy to give them a second more than he had to. He nodded at Crawford, Schuldig and Nagi, smiled openly at Farf. Shit, but he had a pretty smile. It always took Schuldig by surprise.

 

“You're looking much better,” Crawford commented.

 

“Still an impressive bruise on your cheek, though,” Schuldig broke in. “Farf knows what he's doing, yeah? Your new boyfriend likes broken doll porn.” He felt a delicious flush of anger, but nothing detailed -- he'd never been able to read Ran's mind, either. Fucking soup-for-brains psychopaths.

 

Pointedly speaking only to Crawford, Ran said, “I'm able to work, although I'd prefer to use a gun, since I'm not as strong with my left hand. And... I think I've fixed the error I made last week.”

 

Now, if that wasn't the cutest thing. The arrogant little hellion was trying to make nice.

 

Crawford nodded in confirmation. “In fact, things look better than they did before. You've instituted an... impressive... strategy.”

 

Schuldig snickered. He would love to get a glimpse of what Crawford had seen.

 

Ran shrugged. “It's a tool. I use what I have.”

 

Crawford smiled. “What you have is more... effective... than what most people have.”

 

“Are you coming on to me?”

 

Ooooh, here we go, Schuldig thought.

 

Ran glided close to Crawford, a hair's width from leaning against his chest. “I thought it was all over between us, daddy,” Ran breathed, looking up through his lashes.

 

Schuldig cackled gleefully. “Ooh, score one to the devil doll!”

 

Ran turned to face him. “Fuck you. Don't call me that.”

 

Schuldig giggled delightedly. “Your boyfriend's hot, Farf.”

 

Farfarello nodded in agreement. “Devil doll's not a bad name for you, love.”

 

“Fuck you, too.”

 

“All right,” Schuldig said. “How about Kritiker's whore?”

 

Ran's eyes narrowed. “I am not...”

 

“Oh? Whose, then?

 

Crawford's voice cut through the bickering quietly but absolutely. “Mine. Now, let's begin our meeting.”

 

Schuldig pouted but chose not to push further. Ran, face once again impassive, sat down in an empty chair and waited quietly.

 

“There are two points on my agenda. We will cover them in a business-like manner.” Crawford looked pointedly at Schuldig, who shrugged nonchalantly but remained silent. “The first is tonight's events. Schwartz has been assigned to protect the senior vice-minister of defense, who will be speaking at a banquet tonight. He is Eszet, and I have seen that it will be advantageous to remove him immediately. And since executing the man whose safety has been entrusted to us would create a certain amount of unwanted attention, I have asked Kritiker to bring in Weiss. Your team is being briefed as we speak, Mr. Fujimiya.”

 

Ran's eyes had widened ever-so-slightly when Crawford had announced the target. “The senior vice-minister of defense. He's, what, third down the food chain?”

 

“Yes. Second or third, depending on where you start counting.”

 

Ran sighed. “I suppose there are reasons why it has to be tonight, at a banquet, in front of hundreds of people, rather than, say, at his home or office. Or ideally, maybe a deserted parking garage.”

 

“There are reasons,” Crawford said. Schuldig thought he sounded a little snarky.

 

“Why not just have me do it alone?”

 

“I considered that, but thought it best to include them. It wouldn't do to give them cause for suspicion just as you're trying to... mend fences. Correct?”

 

Ran nodded.

 

“Mr. Kimura's security will actually be more lax than usual because of the chaotic nature of such an event, but some backup would be advantageous. We will assist you in every way possible, of course, but we'll have to be discreet. I think this is the best plan. Unless you don't believe Weiss is up to the task?”

 

After a short pause, Ran said, “They can do it.”

 

“Excellent. I will give you a full briefing at the end of the meeting. The next point is your... relationship... with Mr. Kudoh.”

 

Ran closed his eyes and looked as if he'd rather be anywhere else. “You've seen something?” His tone was resigned.

 

“I've seen quite a lot,” Crawford replied dryly. “Since that night in the warehouse, I've been having clearer and clearer visions that point in a direction I hadn't expected.”

 

Ran looked less and less happy with each passing moment.

 

“The upshot is that I want to keep Mr. Kudoh on board, as it were. I want you to take steps to ensure that happens.”

 

Ran looked absolutely miserable. This was priceless.

 

“I believe this is what you were planning anyway -- isn't that right?”

 

Ran nodded sullenly. “How soon?”

 

“Tonight. There are likely to be some... complications... with tonight's job. I don't foresee any insurmountable difficulties, but I expect you can use the events to turn Mr. Kudoh's concern to your advantage.” Crawford smiled coldly. “You do have exceptional talent in that area.”

 

Point Crawford, game tied.

 

“Coming from you, that is a compliment,” Ran said blandly.

 

And Ran steals the ball to take the lead. Really, with a tongue like that, giving him a weapon was almost superfluous.

 

Crawford continued as if he hadn't heard the remark.

 

**********

 

Crawford left as soon as the briefing was over, Nagi close on his heels. Farfarello shot Schuldig a look that shut off whatever annoying comment he'd been planning to make, then came over to Aya and put his hand on the inside of his arm, just above the cast. He let one finger slip inside it. “Can you stay a few minutes?” he asked softly.

 

No, he couldn't -- he barely had time to get ready as it was. He nodded mutely.

 

Farfarello led the way to his room, closed and locked the door behind him. He pulled Aya down on the bed beside him and held him close. “What's got you so upset?” he whispered, running his fingers through Aya's hair. God, that felt so good.

 

“Could they tell?”

 

“I don't think so, not that it really matters. To hell with all three of them. Tell me what's wrong before you have to go.”

 

“I just had too much time to think in the last week, that's all.”

 

“Think about what -- Yoji Kudoh?”

 

“Among other things.”

 

“You don't want to do it.” He kissed Aya's temple, then brushed his lips over the bruise on his cheek.

 

Aya's heart was pounding. He flexed against Farfarello's hips instinctively and found him already hard. Shit, they didn't have time for this. “No. I don't want to do it. But that doesn't matter.” He twisted his ass against Farfarello's groin again and reveled in the feeling of the other man's hips snapping forward, grinding his erection against Aya's backside. He drew in a deep, shuddering breath. They didn't have time.

 

“Well, Schuldig tells me the guy's hung like a horse, so you'll get something out of it, at least.” Farfrello slipped his hand under Aya's shirt and ran it over his abdominal muscles, taut with tension. And desire.

 

Aya closed his eyes. They didn't have time... ”Fuck me,” he whispered. His voice sounded so breathy, so... needy. It would have embarrassed him for anyone else to hear it.

 

“Yes,” Farfarello hissed, shifting himself around to get Aya's pants off. He crawled up Aya's body and pressed his erection to Aya's lips. Aya made him push to get his mouth open and then used his teeth, just as Farfarello liked it, before swallowing him back. Farfarello thrust helplessly a few times, then pulled out, panting. He flipped him over in one fluid move, positioned himself and drove it in. The initial jolt of pain chased every stay thought from Aya's mind... so good...

 

Farfarello pounded him frantically, coming quickly with a quiet grunt and collapsing on top of him. Aya closed his eyes, breathed in the scent of his lover's sweat, and came against the soft cotton of Farfarello's quilt. The only noise was a slight catch in his breathing.

 

Minutes passed as he memorized the feel of Farfarello's weight pushing him into the mattress, the slide of Farfarello's sweat-slicked skin as he moved, the smell of sweat and sex...

 

“I need to go,” Aya muttered.

 

“Yeah.” Farfarello lingered briefly, they jumped up and grabbed a towel, which he used to wipe Aya off. “I'm sorry it's so hard on you, Red.”

 

Aya shook his head angrily. “I've just been a little shaky lately. I'll be OK.”

 

Farfarello fixed him with a look. A skeptical look.

 

Aya's eyes narrowed. Deeply annoyed, he sprang up and started jerking on his clothes. His eyes stung, and he couldn't speak because if he did, he'd cry. God damn it, he was falling apart. He'd run off the rails in the past -- more than once -- but he'd always managed to pull himself together. There were things he needed to do, and he'd always been able to force himself to remain functional, goading himself on with anger, frustration, sometimes just his sense of professional pride. For some reason, nothing was working this time. And he was so raw and fucked up that being told he couldn't handle it -- something he already knew well enough, God damn it -- was about to send him spiraling completely out of control.

 

His shirt still wadded up in his hand, Aya stood up straighter and met Farfarello's curious stare. He was pretty sure he'd kept his face neutral, except for that damned twist to his mouth that he always let slip. And his eyes. His eyes gave it all away -- even Yoji knew it.

 

Farfarello shook his head. “You keep fighting the reins. Be angry with me if you want, but I'm not the one who brought you into this, and I'm not the one keeping you in it.”

 

“Don't condescend to me, you smug bastard,” Aya snarled.

 

Farfarello raised an eyebrow. “What exactly are you so pissed off about?”

 

Aya opened his mouth, then closed it. He couldn't let himself cry -- if he cried... He also couldn't answer Farfarello's question, not even for himself. He didn't exactly know. He hurt. He couldn't seem to break it down any further than that.

 

Aya finally pulled the shirt on. He walked to the door without looking back.

 

“Knock `em dead,” Farfarello said. Aya left without responding, and Farfarello added, “That's a little joke.”

 

Aya stood in the hallway, listening to Farfarello cackling to himself on the other side of the door.