Okay, this is a bit of a weird fic, not quite sure what to make of it myself. It takes place during my Weiß Kreuz story arc, after ‘Balance’. Hope that helps.
Story was written especially for cool girl Kabuki and her website, so it better not be found anywhere else without her permission. She’s evil, trust me on this and don‘t tick her off.
Don’t own Weiß, but I adore torturing those lovely bishounen. Case in point. Cassandra’s mine, though she’s just mentioned in this one.
It was early morning. Rain clouds obscured the sun, granting the day a veil of grey. The usual morning traffic cacophony was drowned out by the sound of falling water and thunder. A silent red head sat huddled in the middle of his bed, violet eyes gazing out the window, watching the rain drops come down.
The weather was a perfect accompaniment to his mood, shedding tears that Aya Fujimiya could no longer cry. He had spent the night curled upon his hard bed reflecting on just how much his life had come apart. After the death of his parents and his sister falling into a coma, he thought things couldn’t get any worse. Then had come the steps leading to a life as an assassin, all so he could take care of his imouto and gain a measure of revenge for his family. Surely that had been rock bottom, especially when he claimed that revenge and found out that nothing was made better, that instead he was permanently trapped in this bloody lifestyle for as long as he lived. But at least his imouto had been safe, and he’d had someone to share the burden of being a killer with.
No more. His sibling was in the hands of his enemy, and as much as he searched there was no finding her. That had been a crippling blow, but one that maybe, just maybe he could have recovered from. He had been trying to do so when his world was ripped apart once more. Yohji Kudoh had betrayed him for the ghost of a past lover, one transformed into a hated enemy that was initially responsible for the loss of his sister. Now everything he loved was gone, the two pillars on which he had based this mockery of a life. He felt completely hollow inside, and was desperately waiting for the icy shield that had protected him so much in the past to numb his pain away.
That was why he’d sat here all night, hoping for the cold to replace the ache that was spread all through his body. But so far it had failed. Staring out his window onto the chilly grey dawn, Aya found himself getting to his feet and walking out the door. He paused only long enough to grab a pair of boots, which he briefly sat down in the kitchen to put on. Once his feet were shod he continued on his way out of the quiet house. Walking past the garage where his Porche was waiting, he opened the door leading outside. On the small porch were a bundle of sweet peas, bound together by a white ribbon. Attached to the flowers was a business card of a downtown hotel, encased in plastic to protect it from the elements. The red head found himself staring at the bouquet as the rain fell down on him, the cold drops imparting the numbness he’d fervently been seeking.
Flowers in hand, he commenced walking in the direction of the address on the card. The red head was oblivious to the looks sent his way, at the sight he presented. Of a pale, achingly beautiful young man with ragged crimson hair trailing down his face, dressed only in a black short-sleeved shirt and jeans. There had been several offers of an umbrella during his journey, all of which had fallen on deaf ears. Aya just kept walking, mind focused on reaching his destination, reveling in the icy cold that was once more settling in his flesh and bones.
It took him over two hours to arrive at the hotel, the rain never ceasing during the whole time. The doorman eyed the wet man derisively, about to turn him away when some impulse made him open the door. Aya walked in, dripping water all over expensive Persian carpets, once more drawing attention. A concierge rushed over to the red head and inquired if there was something he could assist the young man with.
A pale hand held out the flowers, displaying the business card. At a loss, the concierge opened his mouth to ask another question when an accented nasal voice cut him off.
"It’s alright, he’s here to meet with me." Schuldig walked over to the two men from the chair he had been sitting in. He dismissed the hotel employee with a nod of his head, and then turned his attention to the silent man creating a puddle on the marble floor.
"Ever hear of an umbrella? Thought Kätzchens were supposed to hate water." He smiled at the dripping man, who just stood there silently. A frown soon crept upon his face as he stared the silent figure, receiving no response. This was not what he had expected, a withdrawn and quiet Abyssinian who failed to yell obscenities as he leapt at the German with his katana in hand. That was why he had arranged the meeting in a public place.
Reaching out with his talent he scanned the younger man’s mind, taking in the pain and despair that resided within. <I see. Shall we move this upstairs? I think the hotel lobby is a bit too open for what we need to discuss.>
The crimson head bobbed once, and the two assassins walked over to the elevator. It was a quiet ride up to the fourteenth floor, the red heads’ silence unnerving the one other passenger so much that he got off five floors early. Schuldig grinned evilly at the departing businessman, then went back to regarding the wet swordsman who was standing perfectly still in the corner. When their floor was reached the German led Aya to the suite he had reserved for their meeting.
Once inside the luxurious room the telepath headed for the bathroom, soon returning with several towels. "Here, you’re soaked to the bone. I refuse to talk to someone who looks as if he forgot to undress before taking a shower. It’s ridiculous." He held out the cotton fabric to the quiet man standing by the door.
Aya glanced at the hand holding out the towels, then up to its owner. After a minute he accepted the cloths and used them to pat down his body and hair. It didn’t help much, but he was no longer dripping by the time he was finished. Dropping the wet towels to the floor, he once again gazed at his enemy, whom he had last seen two days ago kidnapping his beloved imouto. "Aren’t you going to say something? Maybe comment on how you were right all along? Here’s your chance to gloat."
Face empty of the normally mocking grin it habitually wore, Schuldig lifted a hand to comb through mussed short hair, restoring it to some semblance of order before answering. "What’s the point? You expect me to, and you know I hate to live up to expectations."
<There’s no sense in me telling you ‘I told you so’. Kudoh’s broken you past the point of you caring at all, sweet tuberose. The man is insane, throwing away a prize such as you for some bitch that’ll never be his first love again.> Hands still busy stroking the younger man’s hair, Schuldig frowned. "But that Penner is not why I invited you here to talk." Abyssinian’s pale flesh was cold as ice, his lips tinged with blue.
"You want to discuss my imouto. What do I have to do to get her back?" Aya wished the telepath would stop, the gentle caress was seeping through his numb senses, making him feel once more. He didn’t want that, the numbness was much more preferable, especially as he stood here dealing with his enemy.
"Nothing. I’m sorry, but there is no way I can return her to you at this time."
A brief spark of hope died in the violet eyes, leaving them dull. Absentmindedly swatting away the hand toying with an eartail, Aya turned to leave the room.
<Where are you going, Kätzchen?"> The wet man was restrained by an iron grip on his arm.
"You can’t give her back to me, then there is nothing to discuss. Let me go." Aya tried jerking his arm out of that possessive hold, glaring at his captor.
"I said that I couldn’t return her at this time. But I can ensure that she is taken care of, and give you an opportunity to rescue her at some point in the future. Is that worth discussing?" The smaller man stopped struggling and regarded the German for several seconds. He once more nodded his head, and let himself be towed farther into the suite.
Pushing Aya down on the couch, Schuldig settled next to him. "So then, I will ensure that my employers do not abuse the poor child, and will be in contact with you regarding her condition. There will be an event in the upcoming months that will provide you a chance to gain her back, I will inform you of the time and place as soon as I myself know. It will be up to you and Weiß whether or not you are successful, I’m afraid I will not be able to help you much during that time. Are these conditions agreeable to you?"
Fingers once more playing with the strands of Aya’s hair, the telepath waited for the anticipated question. When the swordsman continued to just sit there, he sighed as he tugged on a silky lock. "Aren’t you going to ask what your end of the deal entails?"
"I think you’ve made it pretty clear these past few months. But go ahead."
Schuldig stretched out his arms and pulled the pale man onto his lap. Tilting Aya’s face upwards, he breathed on the still blue lips, enjoying the way his Kätzchen shivered ever so slightly. "In exchange for my protection and help, all I want is you. Forever."
"Why do you want a whore’s cast-off?" Aya forced his body to remain still, to not fight the hand that gripped his chin or the arm around his waist. This was for Aya-chan, the only thing he had left in the world. It didn’t matter what happened to him anymore, there was no one left to care. He was just a murderer, a monster in human form who couldn’t even earn the love of a fellow assassin.
<You’re so wrong. One day soon Balinese will realize what he’s done, and come crawling back to you. Counting on you to forgive him once again. But I don’t intend for you to be waiting for him. He had his chance and threw it away. You’re mine now, as you were always meant to be.>
<It was my fault, leaving you all alone during the Takatori affair. I thought to give you space to learn a lesson, that revenge would get you nowhere. And to distance myself from the Wichser before you thought to include me in your vengeance. You believed that you were free of me, and in waltzed Kudoh. He’d wanted you from the very beginning, and pounced on the first opportunity to have you.>
"I don’t intend on being so great a fool as him. You have no idea of your true worth, but I do. And I won’t ever let go of something as precious as you. Meine weiße Kamelie. You’ll never have to worry about me betraying you. The truth is you’re the only thing I’ve ever wanted this much. If only you knew of what I’ve done, what I’ve risked to be here right now."
Aya gazed deep into the telepath’s green eyes, so different from those of his lover’s. Yohji’s were the pure green of an emerald, whereas Schuldig’s were almost an equal mixture of green and gold. Such a little thing to focus on, but a reminder none-the-less that here he was, about to offer himself to someone else, a person he didn’t love but in fact had hated ever since that one spring day three years ago. Once the word was said there would be no turning back, his fate would be sealed. "What about Weiß?"
"You will remain with them until you rescue your sister. Their help will be necessary. As soon as your sister is safe though, I will expect you to leave the group. You won’t need Kritiker’s money anymore, I’ll see to it you are both looked after."
Closing his eyes, Aya thought his decision through one more time. His imouto was worth any sacrifice. But a small part of him cried out at losing his friends and the man he still loved even after having his heart broken. At him giving himself to the enemy to be treated as some plaything until the German grew bored. Summoning a picture of his sister, laughing and smiling as she had always been before the tragedy, Aya squashed down that protesting portion of his soul. Opening violet orbs to once again stare deep into pale green ones, he uttered the word. "Yes."
A smile of pure joy spread across the foreign man’s face. It had been one thing to know that there was no way for the dear boy to refuse him, and quite another to actually hear him agree. To feel in his mind the complete acceptance of the situation, of his knowing acquiescence. Abyssinian had accepted the agreement, and considered himself as Schuldig’s from now on. Now to convince his little tuberose that the decision was one that he wouldn’t regret.
<I’m never going to get bored of you. You’re mine now, all of you.> Schuldig kissed the chilled lips, running his tongue across them in an effort to coax them open. Aya remained stiff in his arms. About to growl in frustration, the telepath felt a brushing touch to his mind.
<Promise me you will protect Aya-chan. That no harm will come to her.>
<I already have. Esset won’t hurt her, I swear. I won’t lie to you about that. You’d never forgive me if I did, and more than anything I don’t want you to hate me anymore.> He needed the younger man’s love and acceptance or this would all be worth nothing. Failure on his part would mean the swordsman’s unending animosity, and that spelled his destruction. His fate would become that of Reichi Takatori’s. <I promise.>
Upon hearing those words, Aya relaxed his body and parted his lips. The deal was done. His imouto would be safe, he would atone for failing to protect her. The price was just his body and soul. But he would live up to his end of the deal. Schuldig was coming off the worse in this bargain.
Tongue thrusting deep into the smaller man’s mouth, Schuldig gripped Aya close. <Oh no, Kätzchen, you have no idea of the prize I just gained. I’ll never regret this agreement, and I aim to see to it that you don’t as well.> Pulling the damp shirt up, the German realized he would have to break off the kiss to remove the offending garment. After a minute or two he pulled back
Gasping for air, Aya frowned at the longhaired man. "Are you always going to be in my mind like that?" It had been bad enough putting up with the dreams, now this?
"Of course." With a growl Schuldig once again pressed the swordsman tight against him as he resumed the kiss. <Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. And as I told you before, there are numerous advantages to having a telepath as a lover. How ‘bout I show you?> Concentrating, he used his talent to chase away the last of the chill clinging to Aya’s body. The violet eyed man gasped as warmth flooded his senses, filling the aching void inside of him. It felt as if his body glowed, and he melted into the older man’s embrace. <Just the beginning, little tuberose.>
Schuldig kept up the kiss until Aya started to return it, tongue flicking against his and the roof of his mouth. The smaller man’s hands hesitantly moved upward, threading their way through long reddish hair, knocking his sunglasses to the couch. That had been what the German had been waiting for, his Süßer taking an active part in the seduction. He had spent the last three years learning the swordsman’s psyche. Once Fujimiya committed himself to something he gave his all, there was no holding back. Now he was doing it once more, only this time he was irrevocably binding himself to the telepath, who would never quite be the hated enemy again. As long as Schuldig kept his promise it would only be a matter of time before the smaller red head truly was all his.
Teeth biting gently into his lover’s lip, the longhaired man let go to trail kisses down a pale jaw onto a slender neck. Gathering Aya into his arms, he smoothly rose up from the couch and headed for the bedroom. The younger man let out a tiny yelp at finding himself being carried with such ease, his arms tightening around a smirking Schuldig.
The German lowered him tenderly onto the king sized bed, then stood back to look down at the half naked assassin. "Hmm, what’s wrong with this picture?" Lips spread wide with a leer, he reached down and tugged on the man’s pants, working open the button and zipper. Once done, he pulled off the wet denim, removing the boxer shorts as well. "Much better."
Aya resisted the urge to cover himself. He had agreed to this, there was no sense in being bashful now. Resting his hands along his sides, he looked up at the German, waiting to see what he would do next. Schuldig sat down on the edge of the bed and lightly ran a hand all over the pale body, from ankle to neck. The younger man couldn’t help but shudder at the caress. <Do you have any idea how beautiful you are? No? Trust me, you are.> Once again utilizing his talent, the telepath repeated the stroke, only this time leaving a trail of heat and pleasure in his hand’s wake. Aya moaned softly, biting his lip in an attempt to stifle the sound. <Can’t have that now, can we?> Schuldig stretched out beside the naked man, tilting the delicate face towards him and kissing the bleeding mouth. His hand moved down to tease and pinch the erect nipples, causing Aya to moan once more. Needing to taste more of the gorgeous man, he settled on top of the slender body, hungry mouth working its way downward.
Mind linked with the younger man, Schuldig found himself becoming lost in the sensations he was busy creating. He didn’t know who it was that first fumbled at his clothes, Aya or him, just that there were two sets of hands tearing the garments off of him. He wanted them gone, no more barrier between him and the mewling man beneath him. It was all one huge tangle of emotions, of lust and desire and overwhelming need, no way of telling which feeling belonged to which man and so they both were consumed.
Left hand blindly searching the nightstand drawer, it was the German’s turn to moan as sharp teeth nipped at his ear, almost hard enough to draw blood, only to be replaced with a teasing tongue that soothed the burn. Aya continued the action down Schuldig’s neck, driving the older man wild with the mix of pleasure and pain. It was almost enough to make him drop the just attained tube of lubricant when those teeth bit into his collarbone. Who knew his Knuddelhäschen could be so wicked?
Object obtained, Schuldig focused back to the matter at hand, on keeping the vicious little mouth too busy with an ardent kiss to get into any more mischief. Fingers scraping at the tube’s lid, it took him a second to realize that it was still sealed. Mentally running through every curse he knew until the damn plastic finally split and fell off, he ripped off the top and squeezed about half of the tube’s content into his hand. A flicker of amusement ran through the two men’s minds, clearly originating from the Japanese man.
<What’s so funny, Süßer?>
<You. Almost defeated by an inanimate object.>
<Almost, but not quite. Let’s see what you think about this.> A slick finger entered the smaller man, causing him to gasp into the other’s mouth. Once again there was the cresting wave of pleasure, radiating out from between his legs through his whole body. Schuldig moaned back as the wave overtook him as well, dragging him deeper into his lover’s mind. Their world focused on first the one, then two fingers and the sensations they created. Brushing the digits against the smaller man’s prostate, both men were shocked by the intense pleasure that was the result. As soon as the telepath felt the tight entrance had been stretched enough, he spread a handful of the lubricant onto his dripping shaft and shoved into Aya’s body, sheathing himself completely.
There has been a flicker of pain as the smaller man hissed, but it was quickly drowned out by the searing bliss Schuldig radiated at being encased in such a clenching heat. The feeling possessed both men; their minds enmeshed together much like their bodies. They moved as one, hands pulling their bodies closer as gasping mouths devoured each other. The German stroked his lover’s erection, crying out Aya’s name as the smaller man dug sharp nails into his shoulders in response, a thin stream of blood trailing down his back. What one felt so did the other, the emotions and sensations increasing to an intensity neither had ever experienced before.
Schuldig frantic thrusts came to a shuddering halt as he climaxed, dragging a senseless Aya after him. The telepath could literally not breath after experiencing that double orgasm, judging from the smaller man’s heaving chest he wasn’t alone in the difficulty. So he continued to lay sprawled on top of his lover, blood pounding in his ears as his heart slowed its frenetic beat. Mind still deeply entwined in the younger man’s, it was a bit of a struggle to differentiate his thoughts from Aya’s. Both men were shaken by the recent experience.
Reaching a hand to cup the delicate face before him, Schuldig managed a weak chuckle. He should have expected this, knowing what the Kätzchen was. No surprise that the man would draw the telepath’s talent to him, much as he did people and fate. If the German had thought that having Aya hate him with a passion had been intense, it was nothing compared to what the man felt during sex. And now the sweet little tuberose was his alone.
Brushing his thumb over a fine cheekbone, he noticed that a pair of violet eyes were regarding him cautiously, a look of dazed confusion dancing in their depths. Bending down to kiss parted lips, Schuldig took a minute to scan the smaller red head’s thoughts. Aya was confused by what had just happened, at enjoying having his enemy fucking him senseless. His poor Knuddelhäschen had expected a painful rape, not being a willful participant in the most intense bout of sex he’d ever known.
<Hee hee. Always said there were benefits to sleeping with a telepath. And that’s just for starters. It will only get better each time. You just might manage to kill me yet, little tuberose.>
Aya still didn’t understand and wasn’t sure he wanted to. It frightened him, what had just happened. The passion had so thoroughly replaced the hate, what if it kept doing so until the emotion completely disappeared?
<Then you won’t hate me anymore. Would that be so bad? You’re mine now, isn’t it better to spend your life with someone you love instead of despise?>
Trying to remind himself that bargain or no, this was the man who had helped killed his parents, that was responsible for his sister’s condition. It was one thing to give his body to the German, but now the man wanted his heart as well. That hadn’t been part of the deal.
The kiss prevented him from protesting out loud. His hands, about to shove the longhaired man off of him, were caught and forced down to his sides. Once more Schuldig’s desire washed over him, eclipsing the anger and hate, making his body respond. Aya held out under the onslaught for several minutes, until exhaustion and despair won out. For his precious imouto he had agreed to this, had already gone too far to back out.
<That’s right. You’re mine now. I told you I wanted all of you, body, mind, heart and soul. And I always get what I want. Told you there was no fighting this fate. Nothing left to do but give in and enjoy.>
It appeared he had been wrong in thinking he had no more tears left. As Schuldig released his hands to tilt up his face, Aya felt a teardrop spill down the side of his cheek. The horror of it was that he didn’t know if he was crying in sadness or pleasure.
Yohji woke up due to the squirming red head in his arms. Feeling the erection being rubbed against his thigh, all thoughts of sleep fled as he looked down on his unconscious lover. Guess the kitten was having a good dream. Deciding to share in the fun, he lifted Aya’s head off of his shoulder to kiss a pair of slightly panting lips. The smaller man responded back with a passion that startled him, and without thinking he rolled over on top of the sleeping man.
Coming awake in a jolt, Aya was surprised to find Yohji on top of him, and the blond’s tongue down his throat. Noticing that his hands were clutching the older man close, he could only conclude he hadn’t been totally unwilling. Still, he grabbed a handful of wavy dark blond locks and pulled Kudoh’s mouth of his. "What are you doing?"
"You’re a bright boy, you figure it out." Taking in the lack of amusement in those amethyst orbs, Yohji sighed as he rested his weight on his elbows. "Somebody was having a pretty frisky dream and woke me up. Who am I to turn down an invitation like that? So what were you dreaming about? Having me completely at your mercy? Think we can manage that one." His spoke in a teasing tone, and was a bit put-off at the frown creasing his lover’s forehead. Aya usually either hit him for acting like this or joined in whole-heartedly. "Everything alright, love?"
"Hn." Aya was trying to recall the dream he’d been waken from. All he could summon up was a feeling of rightness, of all-consuming desire and bliss with a hint of despair. Normally he remembered his dreams better than this, much to his regret. But all he was left with this time were impressions powerful enough that he couldn’t shake them. Even now reverie-inspired lust was spurring him on to pull his puzzled lover back down, to resume the kiss he’d interrupted. And if somewhere in the back of his mind there was a little voice telling him that something was wrong, that it wasn’t this pair of hands that he wanted on his body, that another, more nasal voice should be calling out his name, he ignored it. With a desperation that would have frightened him had he taken a moment to think on it. As Yohji used all his considerable skill to work the red head into frenzy, the smaller man found his mind flashing back to a poem that disturbed him every time he read it.
"O Rose thou art sick!
The invisible worm
That flies in the night
In the howling storm,
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy."
It kept echoing through his mind, all the while he made love to his boyfriend, afterwards as he laid in the smoking man’s arms, even chasing him into sleep.
Awareness returning to his body, Schuldig took a moment to mentally survey his surroundings before opening his eyes. Nagi was occupied with some sort of stupid electronic game, killing monsters left and right, while Farfarello was screaming his hate at God. Crawford was in his office, mind a static-y blur that indicated he was deep into some plot or another. All in all, everything normal.
Relaxing back onto his bed, the telepath let a grin of pleasure split his face. Ohhh, that had been even better than he could ever have hoped for. Using the newly developed connections between his brain and Abyssinian’s, he had been able to get deeper into the Japanese man’s subconscious than ever before. That little ‘might be’ scenario he had triggered, letting their minds respond as if it was actually happening, had been sheer bliss. So much more than a dream, the Kätzchen’s mind was imprinted by the events. Just as if it had actually occurred. Which was a strong possibility, given Oracle’s and Cassandra’s visions. But that wasn’t the only opportunity he had to win over his sweet tuberose, oh no. Maybe he would hold out for one that presented more of a challenge. A beaten Abyssinian wasn’t as much fun as a fighting one.
Still, he would have to consider which opening would suit his desires best. The German needed to make the swordsman completely his if he wished to take advantage of the man’s abilities. Once that was done, he could play merry havoc with fate to his heart’s content. Until that time though, he would enjoy more scenarios like this one, warping Abyssinian’s psyche until the man no longer regarded him as a hated enemy. And judging by the lust and pleasure still coursing through his veins from the mental dalliance, it was going to be a real treat.
Worn out from his efforts, Schuldig drifted off to sleep. Heh. ‘Invisible worm’. His Knuddelhäschen had quite an imagination thanks to his prolific reading. Still, he’d been considered worse, and the dear boy’s subconscious was amazingly accurate in its warning. His rose indeed.
Poem is one of William Blake’s.
Sweet peas - meeting
Tuberose – dangerous beauty
Weiße Kamelie – white camellia – perfect loveliness
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