unbeta'd again but i don't think there are *too* many.
once again none of the characters are mine and this fic does divert slightly from the orginal side b-ness. hope it being set then is ok - if not just give me a virtual poke :)
NC-17 so beware all those not prepared!
He woke up with a gasp, stinging hands and Youji’s name on his lips. His breath came out in a short shudder that travelled down his body, leaving goose bumps all over his skin. His throat was dry and there was an itching all over him from the craving that hadn’t gone away yet. He was staring at a white ceiling, in a comfortable bed and he was in England. The memories came flooding back to his relief and he relaxed, his head lolling to one side on the pillow to look over the crimson and biscuit coloured room. There was his katana, not the original, leaning up against the wardrobe and there was his apron hanging on the door, ready for his late shift the next day. That reminded him to look on the clock and he frowned at the green digits as they told him it was two in the morning. Well he wasn’t going back to sleep now, not yet at any rate.
He swung his legs out of bed and rolled his shoulders, reaching over to grab the black vest it had been too hot to wear to bed and pull it over himself. Quietly, he padded over to his door and slipped out, trotting down the stairs to the first floor and making his silent way down that hall so that he could get to the flight of stairs that would lead him down to the ground. One side of his mouth twitched as he heard Ken snore from the room on his right and he felt a sudden empathy with Free, who was bunking with the man. He remembered that of old; nights where they couldn’t afford to be separate.
The ground floor was taken up mainly by the shop, but there was a large extension on the back which provided them with a kitchen and lounge. To his annoyance, the kitchen light was already on and he pushed open the door to find Chloé sitting at the table, staring down at what looked like tea. The man looked up at him; blue eyes regarding him warily before the man inclined his head as an acceptance of Aya’s presence. The red haired man didn’t bother to get annoyed at that, as Ken had most helpfully pointed out that the men were so similar he kept on forgetting which was which.
“Can’t sleep?” the man asked smoothly.
Aya ignored that and simply looked at Chloé’s cup and then up at him with a questioning gaze. The man shook his head.
“I’m fine. Thank you.”
It was always formal with Chloé; Aya preferred it that way. They’d never really completely hit it off after that first battle where Aya had got the better of him, apart from on missions when they were put together. Then, apart from the flashiness, Aya couldn’t find any better partner when it came to getting the job done. Of course, he preferred Ken, mainly for the reason he knew him better, but Chloé had the same ideas as he did, went about things the same way, even had the vain streak a mile wide that Ken was also helpfully pointing out.
Aya’s fingers gripped the spoon so hard he feared it would snap in his surprise, his body going rigid.
“Why?” he asked back sullenly.
“I’ve heard you and Ken mention him a few times.” Chloé informed him nonchalantly before adding; “And you scream his name in your sleep.”
Aya rounded on him, eyes with almost their own light source he was glaring so hard. Chloé looked slightly surprised and then smiled. “So this is the famous glare I’ve been hearing about. To your credit, it’s very good.”
“Do not mock me.” Aya said darkly, then turned back to stirring his tea.
“You still haven’t told me who he was.”
“A member of Weiss.” Aya replied gruffly, taking his tea and pondering taking it up to his room, only then, knowing the annoying bloody Romanian he’d be followed. So he sat down opposite him and cupped the mug in his hands, warming them.
“He didn’t make the last mission.” Aya told him, truthfully. Though the body, according to Ken, had survived, there was nothing of Youji left. He didn’t know what was worse…no, wait, he did. A world with some sort of Youji in it was better than one without at all, even though the terrifying prospect of meeting him and finding the man not knowing his face sent chills into Aya’s stomach and made him feel sick from wanting a shot so much. He clamped his hands tighter over the mug to hide their shaking.
“He a friend of yours?” Chloé asked. Aya looked up at him and saw wry mocking in that face that made him want to slam his shaking hands into the misunderstanding fool’s face.
“You do not understand Weiss.”
“Of course I do.” Chloé answered incredulously.
“If you understood, you wouldn’t have asked me that.” Aya said simply.
“It’s not something you can explain.”
“And definitely something you wouldn’t, my tight-lipped friend.”
Aya merely grunted that affirmation, hiding behind sipping his tea. Sometimes that man just managed to push all the right buttons. “So, how did he…”
“He…” Aya interrupted, not wanting to hear it. “He got caught in an explosion.”
“Something like that.” Aya replied, eyes blank as he remembered just how trapped Youji had been and how, if he hadn’t…
“You will not ever mention him to me again, understand?” Aya asked, placing his hand suddenly and firmly in front of Chloé so that the man almost jumped back in surprise. Aya simply stared him down, eyes like battering rams knocking down Chloé’s incessant questions.
“All right,” the man soothed after a while. “I’ll take it down as another touchy subject when it comes to you. The list is getting longer by the day.”
“So it is.” Aya replied, not really concentrating on anything but getting out, now. He left his tea on the table and just walked out; not yet desperate enough to run back to his room, but stalking fast enough. Finally he could half slam the door shut behind him and let the shaking take hold, though he wrapped his arms round his stomach, curling up in a ball with his back leaning on the door, breathing coming fast and hard as he fought the craving, eyes clenched shut…and for some reason wishing Schuldig was here.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
His back hit the bed, hard and his hands flew towards the smirking bastard’s face, a knuckle bleeding from where he’d managed to get a punch in. Schuldig caught the wrists of those hands and pinned them by the snarling kitten’s face, still grinning.
“Schuldig!” the man yelled. “Just give it to me, I just need a little!”
“Nope.” Schuldig told him happily. A note of desperation entered Aya’s eyes and suddenly the man was leaning up, delving his tongue into Schuldig’s mouth. Well, he wasn’t about to complain, but as soon as he went to reciprocate the man pulled away, looking him dead in the eye.
“You want, I know you do you always have. I’ll give it to you, I will just give me what I want!”
Schuldig would have sat up in surprise had he not been afraid of Aya smashing him in the face again. Just how out of character was it possible to be?
“You’d whore yourself out…to me, no less. Just for a shot of heroine?”
“I need it.” The man said huskily. “You don’t understand just how much…”
Schuldig kissed him again, not wanting to hear it because he did understand, knew just how much Aya needed it and it was tearing him up not giving it to him because bloody hell, Aya was making him want it and that was unforgivable. The man squirmed beneath him as he licked a trail up to Aya’s ear.
“Fine, kitten. You give me what I want and I’ll give you what you want. Deal?”
“Deal!” Aya rasped and Schuldig chuckled as he traced his now free hand down Aya’s chest, tweaking a nipple as he went passed. He had known the stubborn little prude had wanted it, just not admitted it and the evidence was plain for him to see and feel now. And God but Aya was smooth, damn it, just like he’d always imagined it; warm, breathing living porcelain all laid out for Schuldig’s amusement. If he was human, he’d feel bad about taking advantage of such a traumatized man who was so obviously out of his mind, but...well...he wasn’t and he didn’t and he doubted he ever would.
Shaking hands pushed the jacket off his shoulders, fumbling with it so he finally decided to sit up and take it off himself, leaning back down to plant a fervent kiss on the man’s lips.
“My top drawer, kitten. I’ll be waiting.” He whispered and rolled off him as Aya complied. God the guy was desperate. Schuldig snickered and shook his head as Aya disappeared out of the spare room door, leaving him to undress by himself, slipping under the sheets to lie there waiting by the time Aya got back. The man hesitated at the door, eyes tracing over Schuldig’s body whilst widening in surprise and then he came forward, more slowly until standing next to the bed. Schuldig rolled over so he was next to him and smartly pulled the man’s sweat pants (his only clothing at the moment) down, pulling the man by the arm to join him and plastering his lips over Aya’s again.
By God, even in this state the man knew how to kiss, writhing in Schuldig’s arms even as the telepath took the lube from trembling fingers and rolled the younger assassin onto his stomach, covering the pale body with his own. Aya’s head bent to rest his forehead on the pillow as Schuldig kissed his neck, covering his fingers with lube and delving down to Aya’s ass. The man twitched and gasped as Schuldig slicked one smooth finger inside him, squirming as the telepath teased him and tortured him, adding another finger and even another it was so much fun watching the man writhe. So long he had dreamt about it and now it was even better with Aya not even caring what Schuldig did, as long as he got what he wanted in the end. What could Schuldig ask more?
Finally, with a growl he’d had enough of playing and slicked his cock, placing it at Aya’s entrance and leaning over to whisper in the man’s ear, the tickle of his breath making Aya shudder deliciously.
“You ready, kitten?”
That small answer of submission was all Schuldig could take at that moment and he pushed forward, gritting his teeth against the intense pleasure of sinking himself into that pliant flesh ripe for him and him only. Aya arched beneath him, a low groan forcing itself out of his throat, which didn’t help Schuldig in the slightest.
He fucked him, that was the only way to describe it. Hard, fast and too much for the recovering body to take. With a cry, Aya came and the muscles around Schuldig’s cock tightened enough to hurt the man was so tight. He didn’t stop though, couldn’t…not until Aya started squirming with discomfort. He may be a lecherous bastard but he wasn’t about to hurt him, not like that anyway. A grin plastered itself on his face as he drew out, landing on his back and digging a hand into Aya’s hair. The man looked up, Schuldig’s desire enough to block out the faint trace of tears in the man’s eyes.
“Show me what you can do with that pouting mouth of yours kitten.” He breathed, making Aya’s eyes widen in surprise. A faint frown marred that perfect face, but the man covered whatever discomfort he had and slid down Schuldig’s body, not hesitating to take him fully into his mouth. And oh Jesus, Schuldig had known the man had done this before but my god! He had never picked up from the blonde kitten that the man was this good! It didn’t take long for him to throw his head back with a low growl as he came, body arching off the bed and hands tightening in thick, sweat soaked hair.
He didn’t notice anything in the haze that followed, only that Aya was sitting next to him, shaking again.
“Well,” the man said gruffly.
“Well what?” Schuldig asked, catching his breath in preparation.
“You said that you’d…you know…”
“Iie.” Schuldig replied with a nonchalant shake of his head, looking up at Aya, whose eyes had gone narrow with suspicion and fear.
“But…but you said…”
Schuldig placed a hand over Aya’s mouth to stop him talking and grinned at him.
“I lied, kitten. You’re not getting anything.”
There was a split second of disbelief on Aya’s face and then the man pounced on his with a raw scream of fury. Schuldig had to speed to get out of the way of the clawing, almost frothingly angry assassin and ended up by the end of the bed, near the door. He caught the arms that went to slam into him and Aya simply fell against him, beating said hands as hard as he could with Schuldig’s hands holding them.
“You said…you…fucking…bastard…” the man cried desolately and Schuldig leaned away in disgust as the man let a sob of desolation against his chest, moisture creeping from the violet eyes to his skin.
“Get off, I’m not a tissue!’ he cried, pushing the man back. Aya didn’t even have the grace or will to stay upright and simply curled up on the bed, probably in his own mess, sobbing with fury and frustration as he started visibly shaking again. Schuldig said nothing, didn’t even snicker as he picked up his clothes and looked back once he’d slipped his trousers on at the one violet eye he could see promising him death.
“I hate you.” Aya muttered darkly, the tone of his voice eradicating any childish aspect to his words. Schuldig snickered without feeling it.
“I told you you would.”
He left then, closing the door and breathing deeply to try and stop the ache in his body at hearing Aya moaning and crying hoarsely at his body’s own weakness and at Schuldig’s betrayal. The bastard was causing more confusion and frustration on Schuldig’s behalf than he was worth, apart from that he’d definitely started paying his way. Maybe, Schuldig thought with a small smile as he didn’t have the vigor to sneer, maybe he could get his way into that situation gain. This Aya would believe anything he wanted him to believe right now and he wouldn’t even have to use his powers to make him do it.