Title: The Care And Feeding Of A Farf
Author: Lovecraft
Rating: PG-16, only for language and a vague reference to playfulness
Warnings: Fluff. If you can't handle SchuxFarf fluff, get out of my face. I warned you and you have no room for bitching.
Summary: Schu tries to pull Farf back from his blood-haze.
Further Notes: Ever have an excitement rush where everything about you is focus on one event, but it was so chaotic you can hardly remember it all save for bits and pieces? And afterward, you couldn't seem to climb down from that high? Well, Farf just had himself a nice li'l party where he got to play piñata with the victims and now he can't seem to come down. Luckily, his teammates are quite familiar with the phenomena, and this is how one of them manages to bring Farf-mellow back to reality.
~*~
Bloody licking tearing weeping hurting hands cold hot gushing cleansed meaty screaming pretty pretty.
"Come on, liebe." Hands pulling rust tickles. "Stand up. I need to get those pants off you."
Stripping touching ripping shrieking.
"Ja, Farf. The clothes need to come off now." Amusement humor warmth scalding pulsing. "That's good, that's perfect. I'll just toss these out into the hall; Nagi'll make sure they get to the washing machine."
Clean cleansed purged crying makeHimweep.
"Into the shower, liebe. Come on, you know the drill." Wet angelscrying soap hands strong Irish Spring.
"Heh, you noticed that, huh?"
Rend glare growl. "Funny."
Pride arrogance angelfall. "I thought it was. Little strong on the smell, but not bad, hmm?"
Curl warmth press scrub untense.
"Shut your eye, Farf. I need to rinse you off now."
Dark black soothing heat wet licking.
Teeth lips shoulder kiss sigh relax.
"There now. Much cleaner. Turn around; I'll shampoo your hair. You managed to get bits of intestine all over you. Next time try to avoid the lower intestine; you know how much Brad hates it when you get the black gunk on his pristine car interior. And being in a closed environment with that smell always makes for a cranky Oracle."
Laugh, tilt head back, eye shut, hands on lover, balance.
"That's right, you're doing fine. Lean on me, you're good."
Green apple scent, sharp and tangy, hands on head, strong and gentle.
"Head forward, liebe. Gotta rinse you off again."
Light spray, luke warm, damn small water heater, cheap-ass apartment.
Rumbling chuckle, rich and dark. "Mr. Tightwad Crawford specializes in roach holes, doesn't he? At least, when it's not his lily-white butt that has to sleep in one. I swear he only rents these places when he knows I'm taking the long assignments. Huh, tell you what, next time I'll spring for a place with a jacuzzi."
Smile, step out of the tight little shower/tub. Mentally picture a fat, sleeping cat he once saw in a victim's house. It had oozed contentment on it's plush pillow while he had silently killed it's owners.
"Yes, I love to spoil you rotten."
A green towel, soft and warm, wrapped around him. Nagi apparently dumped his clothes in to be washed and got him a towel from the drier.
"Go lie down my room, liebe. Have to check you over for injuries."
Wander down the hall, Nagi's room on the left, Schu's room on the right. Veer right and open the door. What a mess.
"Hey, so says the guy who lives in a padded room with only knives and a straight jacket for decoration."
Mental shrug. Knives are fun.
"Lie *down*, Farf."
Gentle push. Drops the towel and lays down on the bed. Knows to keep still until asked otherwise.
Hands begin at his feet, rotating toes, running a finger over his foot to watch his toes curl. Ankles are rotated carefully, green eyes unfocused as hearing takes over, making sure nothing sounds or feels strange.
"I want to tape up your left ankle again, it's still popping strange."
Nod unenthusiastically because the bandages are never comfortable under shoes, even for a man who can't feel pain. Sigh happily when warm hands press into muscled calves and check carefully for discoloration on the shin. Twitch when knees are tickled and nearly kick out when a finger presses too deeply. Oops.
"Yeah, sure. As if you've never wanted to kick me before."
Supposedly, getting rid of built up aggressions is good for you. Very healthy.
"American psycho-babble bullshit. I vote in favor of drugging the shit out of everyone and having a big orgy."
Struggle not to melt as hands rotate legs at the hip, checking the joint for injury. Ignore horny talk, it only encourages him.
Gasp aloud as lips kiss and hair tickles sensitive areas. "I don't need encouragement, liebchen. You know better than that." A casual swipe of tongue and a playful smile. "But we'll get back to that later, hmm?"
Fingers press lightly at fading bruises on my stomach, the quick healing earning a satisfied nod. Ribs are counted and pressed, each one tested for weakness or give.
An ear is pressed below a nipple. "Inhale. exhale. again. Good. Just perfect."
I could have told him that. It's not easy to breath with a punctured lung, whether it hurts or not. Fluids and blood and all sorts of gasping happen.
"No need to be snitty."
Hmm. Fuck you.
Grin at the chuckle and offer up a hand to be examined. Fingers are checked to make sure none are jammed or broken, wrists are rotated to make sure nothing cracks, forearms are massaged and elbows are flexed into various positions.
My left shoulder audibly protests when it's checked. It dislocated earlier and I had to pop it back in. Didn't do a very good job, apparently. I sit up and sigh, then listen with a yawn as my lover pulls, twists, and pops my shoulder out, then back into place. The movement is much easier now.
"I want you to be careful with that arm for at least a week, you hear me? If I see you doing anything stupid with it, I'm going to put you on those fucking horse tranquilizers, and I know how much you hate them."
Glare. Yes, Mutter Schu-Schu. I'll be a good boy.
"Heh. I know." Gentle kiss to the forehead. "Turn over, I want to check your back."
Turn over and press a cheek to the pillow. Close eye and relax as hands message and measure my spine. Shiver lightly at a soft kiss pressed to my tailbone.
"That's right, just relax. You did a great job tonight, I'm very proud of you. Even Braddie-kins didn't have any complaints. Except for the smell, but that doesn't matter. A little air freshener will clear that right up."
Chuckle softly, huff a tired sigh.
"Go on, you earned your nap." Another kiss at the base of my skull. "I'll wake you up in a couple hours for dinner. We're ordering pizza; I'll make sure to get extra sauce for you. I know you like it red and messy."
Cuddle down into the pillow; smile, contented.
Author: Lovecraft
Rating: PG-16, only for language and a vague reference to playfulness
Warnings: Fluff. If you can't handle SchuxFarf fluff, get out of my face. I warned you and you have no room for bitching.
Summary: Schu tries to pull Farf back from his blood-haze.
Further Notes: Ever have an excitement rush where everything about you is focus on one event, but it was so chaotic you can hardly remember it all save for bits and pieces? And afterward, you couldn't seem to climb down from that high? Well, Farf just had himself a nice li'l party where he got to play piñata with the victims and now he can't seem to come down. Luckily, his teammates are quite familiar with the phenomena, and this is how one of them manages to bring Farf-mellow back to reality.
~*~
Bloody licking tearing weeping hurting hands cold hot gushing cleansed meaty screaming pretty pretty.
"Come on, liebe." Hands pulling rust tickles. "Stand up. I need to get those pants off you."
Stripping touching ripping shrieking.
"Ja, Farf. The clothes need to come off now." Amusement humor warmth scalding pulsing. "That's good, that's perfect. I'll just toss these out into the hall; Nagi'll make sure they get to the washing machine."
Clean cleansed purged crying makeHimweep.
"Into the shower, liebe. Come on, you know the drill." Wet angelscrying soap hands strong Irish Spring.
"Heh, you noticed that, huh?"
Rend glare growl. "Funny."
Pride arrogance angelfall. "I thought it was. Little strong on the smell, but not bad, hmm?"
Curl warmth press scrub untense.
"Shut your eye, Farf. I need to rinse you off now."
Dark black soothing heat wet licking.
Teeth lips shoulder kiss sigh relax.
"There now. Much cleaner. Turn around; I'll shampoo your hair. You managed to get bits of intestine all over you. Next time try to avoid the lower intestine; you know how much Brad hates it when you get the black gunk on his pristine car interior. And being in a closed environment with that smell always makes for a cranky Oracle."
Laugh, tilt head back, eye shut, hands on lover, balance.
"That's right, you're doing fine. Lean on me, you're good."
Green apple scent, sharp and tangy, hands on head, strong and gentle.
"Head forward, liebe. Gotta rinse you off again."
Light spray, luke warm, damn small water heater, cheap-ass apartment.
Rumbling chuckle, rich and dark. "Mr. Tightwad Crawford specializes in roach holes, doesn't he? At least, when it's not his lily-white butt that has to sleep in one. I swear he only rents these places when he knows I'm taking the long assignments. Huh, tell you what, next time I'll spring for a place with a jacuzzi."
Smile, step out of the tight little shower/tub. Mentally picture a fat, sleeping cat he once saw in a victim's house. It had oozed contentment on it's plush pillow while he had silently killed it's owners.
"Yes, I love to spoil you rotten."
A green towel, soft and warm, wrapped around him. Nagi apparently dumped his clothes in to be washed and got him a towel from the drier.
"Go lie down my room, liebe. Have to check you over for injuries."
Wander down the hall, Nagi's room on the left, Schu's room on the right. Veer right and open the door. What a mess.
"Hey, so says the guy who lives in a padded room with only knives and a straight jacket for decoration."
Mental shrug. Knives are fun.
"Lie *down*, Farf."
Gentle push. Drops the towel and lays down on the bed. Knows to keep still until asked otherwise.
Hands begin at his feet, rotating toes, running a finger over his foot to watch his toes curl. Ankles are rotated carefully, green eyes unfocused as hearing takes over, making sure nothing sounds or feels strange.
"I want to tape up your left ankle again, it's still popping strange."
Nod unenthusiastically because the bandages are never comfortable under shoes, even for a man who can't feel pain. Sigh happily when warm hands press into muscled calves and check carefully for discoloration on the shin. Twitch when knees are tickled and nearly kick out when a finger presses too deeply. Oops.
"Yeah, sure. As if you've never wanted to kick me before."
Supposedly, getting rid of built up aggressions is good for you. Very healthy.
"American psycho-babble bullshit. I vote in favor of drugging the shit out of everyone and having a big orgy."
Struggle not to melt as hands rotate legs at the hip, checking the joint for injury. Ignore horny talk, it only encourages him.
Gasp aloud as lips kiss and hair tickles sensitive areas. "I don't need encouragement, liebchen. You know better than that." A casual swipe of tongue and a playful smile. "But we'll get back to that later, hmm?"
Fingers press lightly at fading bruises on my stomach, the quick healing earning a satisfied nod. Ribs are counted and pressed, each one tested for weakness or give.
An ear is pressed below a nipple. "Inhale. exhale. again. Good. Just perfect."
I could have told him that. It's not easy to breath with a punctured lung, whether it hurts or not. Fluids and blood and all sorts of gasping happen.
"No need to be snitty."
Hmm. Fuck you.
Grin at the chuckle and offer up a hand to be examined. Fingers are checked to make sure none are jammed or broken, wrists are rotated to make sure nothing cracks, forearms are massaged and elbows are flexed into various positions.
My left shoulder audibly protests when it's checked. It dislocated earlier and I had to pop it back in. Didn't do a very good job, apparently. I sit up and sigh, then listen with a yawn as my lover pulls, twists, and pops my shoulder out, then back into place. The movement is much easier now.
"I want you to be careful with that arm for at least a week, you hear me? If I see you doing anything stupid with it, I'm going to put you on those fucking horse tranquilizers, and I know how much you hate them."
Glare. Yes, Mutter Schu-Schu. I'll be a good boy.
"Heh. I know." Gentle kiss to the forehead. "Turn over, I want to check your back."
Turn over and press a cheek to the pillow. Close eye and relax as hands message and measure my spine. Shiver lightly at a soft kiss pressed to my tailbone.
"That's right, just relax. You did a great job tonight, I'm very proud of you. Even Braddie-kins didn't have any complaints. Except for the smell, but that doesn't matter. A little air freshener will clear that right up."
Chuckle softly, huff a tired sigh.
"Go on, you earned your nap." Another kiss at the base of my skull. "I'll wake you up in a couple hours for dinner. We're ordering pizza; I'll make sure to get extra sauce for you. I know you like it red and messy."
Cuddle down into the pillow; smile, contented.