The members of Schwartz had rules to abide by which, when you considered their leader, was not the least bit surprising. These rules were unwritten, unspoken, mostly because there was no need to acknowledge them. When you lived as closely as these four men did you learned quickly what ground was safe to tread on, and what could easily earn you a week stay in the Rosenkruez infirmary.
Farferello had learned that you don't spout cryptic death threats laced with theology and superstition at Brad Crawford before he's had his morning cup of coffee. Schuldig later amended the rules by proving it was best of you simply didn't talk to Crawford before the aforementioned cup of coffee.
Schuldig had also learned that the rule about letting sleeping dogs lie, applied to sleeping Farfies too, when he made the grave mistake of trying to wake the Irishman for a mission. The hard working and compassionate employees at Rosenkreuz informed him that 'yes they would be happy to pull his teammates knife from his stomach, just as soon as he explained how it had gotten there in the first place'.
Brad Crawford had taken the liberty of demonstrating just how much Nagi valued his privacy when he had opened the door to complain about certain children locking the only shower (what not all jobs could be as glamorous as Takatori), and come face to face with a very naked, and very angry telepath. Nagi's small frame shook with embarrassment, but his narrowed eyes burned with hatred; one look into those eyes and Brad Crawford knew that he was utterly and completely fucked. Nagi hadn't even bothered to visit him back at the facility, but Schuldig had. Apparently the walls surrounding them were very strong because going through two of them had nearly broken Crawford's back.
It was because of this incident that Nagi was certain Brad Crawford had not been the man on his computer. Crawford had an override key, and could have easily gotten in, but didn't and Nagi knew it.
Farferello spent most of his life trapped in his mind, which according to Schuldig was a swirling vortex of philosophers, faith, sacrificed lambs, and many other disturbing things no telepath should be subjected to. Nagi would bet anything he couldn't even find the power button.
That left only one man. One man who had searched Nagi's computer then had the audacity to leave it on. One man who had apparently run scared since the German was nowhere to be found. Nagi pulled a book from the shelf and stretched across his bed. He wasn't worried; Schuldig had to come home some time after all, as did Crawford.
Wide brown eyes sparkled with sadistic glee as the German's hands flew across the keyboard. He was breaking the rules, and yes the chibi would know it was him, and so what if the thought of facing Crawford later did make his hands shake slightly, not that he was nervous or anything. None of that mattered though. He was going to find dirt on the chibi, something juicy that he could humiliate the boy with for years to come. The mental image of the boy running from the room with pink cheeks and wild eyes at the mention of say, an adult website was enough to make Schuldig burst into hysterical laughter. Oh this would be worth any beating Brad Crawford could dish out and then some.
The gaijin's eyes grew impossibly larger as he stared at the picture before him. Well, at least now the chibi couldn't dodge all the not so subtle jabs Schuldig made as to his preference. The chibi had just been flung by his hair out of the proverbial closet, along with the redhead hovering over him. The picture was blurry, and the man's features were impossible to make out, but given the height, build, and rather intimate way he was joined to the chibi, there was no mistaking his gender. Oh the fun he would have once he figured out how to work the stupid printer thingy. Schuldig scrolled through picture by picture hoping to find a more embarrassing pose or depraved kinky toys or something to really knock them off there feet. Then...he saw it.
And for once in his entire 22 years of life, Schuldig was rendered speechless. His hands hovered over the keyboard, not really pressing but just gently stroking the keys under his fingers. The position was the same as in all the other pictures, and some distant part of his mind suggested having a nice long talk with the chibi about creativity; creativity, the sadistic and therefore much larger portion of his brain argued, was not really important now.
After finding and clicking the mysterious little print button, Schuldig leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes in bliss. In his mind he could still see it. The picture was a crystal clear image of the Chibi on his back, legs spread wide like some filthy back alley whore, with his head thrown back in ecstasy. His pale neck was stretched and covered in bright pink bite marks, his back was arched so high that only his butt and head managed to touch the floor, and his thighs...were wrapped around no other than Aya Fujimiya. Yes the hands that gently brushed the black sweat soaked hair back from the boy's face or ran trails up and down his sides, the lips kissing his cheek so tenderly it made Schuldig want to vomit, it all belonged to the infamous little Abyssinian, guide to lost kittens, keeper of flowers, and currently very high up on Schuldig's list of people to kill.
He crossed the room to retrieve the photo and smirked once more. As he covered his trail through Nagi's computer Schuldig had only one thought going through his mind 'this was just too perfect'. He closed his windows, but left the computer on, he wanted the chibi to know he had been here. Wanted him to worry about what Schuldig might have found and what he might do with it. He wanted the boy terrified. As for himself?
Ha. Forget secrecy and lies and dodging Crawford, because he had a feeling that once Brad had a peek at this, all of the blame, and the unholy wrath that came with it was going to shift from his shoulders to the boys' very rapidly indeed.
Brad Crawford's frame, all six foot of it, was shaking rather violently. His eyes burned with raw fury that was, for once, not directed at Schuldig. The team, well all the members of the team that weren't facing a most certain and painful death were gathered around the table. "Where did you get this Schuldig" Brad said in a low biting tone that sent a shiver up the German's spine. "Bradley baby" Schuldig cooed "if I told you that it would ruin the anticipation. You're new at this so let me tell you how it works. You vent and fume and stomp about in a rage while I listen to your plans for Nagi and bask in the greatness that is being the most cunning bastard alive. Then you...".
Schuldig didn't ever get to say what Crawford was supposed to do next, because Crawford's hand was around his neck, pinning him to the wall and squeezing and from this angle he could look right in Brad Crawford's eyes and dear god if that wasn't the scariest thing he had ever seen he didn't know what was. "I don't have the patience for your dramatics right now do you understand me?" Schuldig nodded in the affirmative then proceeded to give every detail that led up to him printing the picture, excluding of course the part where his hands most definitely did not shake.
This seemed to appease Brad who released the German's throat. Farf sat in his chair calmly observing the whole exchange, as he had many times before. Truth be told he thought they were the strangest pair he had ever seen. Well, except for maybe the two men in the picture Brad was holding. So the lamb had found himself a kitten to cuddle up with, except the kitten was more a lion than anything else. A lion and a lamb...lamb...lion...
Crawford and Schuldig simultaneously abandoned there fight in favor of staring at Farferello, who had started chuckling suddenly. They were both still staring blankly for many minutes after the laughter had stopped "We have a feisty kitten moving in on our little lamb" said Farf quietly "I think we need to remind them both where they belong". Realization dawned for Brad Crawford and for the first time in many years he felt certain that he and Farferello were thinking the same thing.
Schuldig looked to Crawford, then Farf, then back to Crawford. The evil grin slowly making its way across Brad's face just proved how badly he needed that vacation Schu had mentioned to him. Taking after Farferello, even in something as simple as facial expressions, didn't say much for your mental state. He breathed a sigh of relief as Crawford took his glasses off to polish them on his shirt; mostly because the familiar gesture proved he was still at least partially sane, but also because it was a clear signal to all who knew him that the situation was under control.
"Farferello" Brad said as he lifted the spectacles to his face "I think you may have come up with a perfect plan"
Back in his room Nagi was sleeping, completely unaware of the turn his life was about to take.
Hands. Oh god. The hands were everywhere. Warm and rough but soothing as they rubbed over his stomach. Lower. Please please let them go lower and he arched and he must have said it aloud because that deep scratchy laughter surrounded him. If only he could see. But he couldn't see because it was black, but that didn't matter because he could see. Nagi felt the eyes burning across his chest and stomach and thighs and his cock jolted at the feeling but it wasn't enough. It was never enough. It was bliss and torture when those lips descended on first one nipple, then the other, laving and sucking and he thrust against the hard thigh which had just settled itself against his groin and he was sobbing because surely this was heaven. Tears poured down his cheeks only to be chased away by a skillful tongue seconds later and the pleas that were falling from his lips like a prayer were so strained even he didn't no what they meant except that he needed it, he couldn't come without it, then there it was. The hot blunt tip thick and throbbing against his opening and then it was in him and filled him and he realized how wrong he had been in thinking of heaven. This was hell. They were both in hell and there was no devil with horns and a spiked tail. There was only heat, and skin, and him...
Nagi awoke in the clasp of an orgasm so strong it made his toes curl up and a moan fell from his opened lips. And when it was over and he was spent he lay panting and sobbing. He didn't look up as he floated his mess past the bed and into the garbage. He simply burrowed deeper into the blankets and hid beneath his pillow. Nagi peaked out at the clock. 4:00. He still had an hour or too to doze and sulk before he was expected to be out. Plenty of time.