Disclaimers: If I owed Weiss, there is no need for me to spend my hard-earned cash on the merchandise, right?
Author: Avium
Rating: PG-13
Contents: Shonen-ai, angst
Pairing(s): Schuldich x Omi
Fic length: One-shot
Time line: Post TV series, before the Dramatic Precious drama
Author's notes: Yes, be very afraid… My train of thought has forgotten to stop choo-chooing at the previous stop (i.e. after my exams), and it is still hardwired to writing strange pairings. So… be scared.
For Hypertia – Schuldich x Omi isn't easy to write, but I'm going to give it my best shot here, lady!
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It was a waiting game, but that was just how he liked it. The almost audible rushing of his blood through his veins as he waited in silent anticipation; all his muscles tensed and coiled together so tightly that they resembled springs ready to snap at a moment's notice. Ears were practically pricked, ready to detect any sounds that indicated the arrival of his prey. But they would never replace his Gift when it came to scoping out his targets.
And that was what he was waiting for – that coy little prey.
There is technique involved in stalking prey, especially a jumpy one. The trick is not to scare it away by leaping out suddenly. Rather the hunter should show himself from a distance and slowly… oh so slowly force the pretty little thing into a corner or a dead end before making his move. A sudden pounce will not work: the prey may just tear off back to where he came from in livid terror, and then it's back to square one again – not something he would want happening after planning and waiting for so long.
All good things come to those who are patient. He used to think of it as the nonsense Brad would sprout whenever his plans were thwarted, which were actually pretty few to date. But today – thank you, Mr. Brad Crawford – your fucking philosophies were actually going to be helpful for once.
A finger traced along the edge of an overshadowing crate. It came away coated with a thin layer of dust and small wood chips, causing the man to grimace. This was far from his ideal of a place for a rendezvous, but then again, he wasn't in the position to dictate where the next Weiß mission should take place either…
The commotion was steadily drawing closer by the minutes. He continued to wait patiently behind the crates, the only visible movements from him being the muscles that quivered ever so slightly in expectation of that moment. His weight shifted back and forth between his feet as he rocked on the balls of his soles. /Patience my ass./ That virtue was going to end up killing him if he had to wait any longer than this.
If Brad were right, he would have the little Bombay kitten running right into his lap at precisely…
"Stop right there, or we'll fire!"
… Now.
A metal door was hastily swung opened, and then hurriedly but carefully shut. The presence of another mind in the cold storage room was crystal clear to the man who waited at the other end of the enclosed space. The thoughts that trashed wildly about in the intruder's mind were a scrambled mess of worries, rapid re-strategising and a quick flash of panic. The fear in the boy's mind registered with him in the shape of a bell-curve: rising as the security guards approached and fading altogether as the footsteps sounded right past the door and down the corridor. He watched as the small figure heaved in relief; watched him as he turned around and slid halfway down against the door before he decided it was time to announce his presence.
He was silent for once – rising to his full height slowly and smugly watching as sapphire-blue eyes widened in shock. The room had appeared completely empty when Omi entered, and from behind the large crates emerged Weiß's mortal enemies – Schuldich of Schwarz in all his badass glory.
/Schuldich…?/
Nothing thrilled him more than the acknowledgement of his presence by the Weiß kitten. The way his name was uttered in both surprise and anger… Gott, but it sounded so rich even in the mind of the young assassin… It was one of those moments that he lived for; and loved. There was nothing quite like the way his name rolled on the tongue of his young lover – hints of awe, disdain, anger, panic and maybe even a little… desire.
"Good evening, Bombay." Deep blue tanzanites locked themselves on the small Japanese boy shoved up against the door. He noticed just in time that the assassin had drawn out several darts and was taking aim. That sight caused his lips to curl upwards in amusement – this wasn't the first time that he had to face off with the youngest Weiß member. He assumed that by now Omi would have known better than to try and hit him with his darts, knowing that the German moved faster than his weapons ever could. But Schuldich acknowledged the ritual – that was how it was supposed to be between them: both of them playing out their respective roles as mortal enemies without asking any questions.
He had managed to dodge the darts easily while diving for Omi - Schuldich wasn't named the fastest Eszett field agent for nothing. He loved watching those beautiful sapphire blue eyes as they widened in surprise while he closed in on their owner – such an enticing, gorgeous sight. By the time his movements ceased to be a blur, he had the kitten by his neck and the rest of him shoved up against the wall.
The pressure of the younger assassin's adam apple bobbing against his palm was all too clearly noted: he knew that he was in danger of cutting off Omi's breathing, but strangely that thought didn't bother him as much as he thought it would. The realisation that he was holding a life in his hand sent a shiver up his spine, as it always did. What made it even more exciting was the fact that he could destroy that life so easily, and yet chose not to.
Power – what a fucking beautiful ring it had to it…
Smirking as he calmly tightened his hold on the small figure, he used the chance to study his captive further. The boy's downcast gaze sparked anger that he never knew existed, and Schuldich made it clear that he didn't approve of it by unceremoniously dragging him away from the door. That manoeuvre was performed for 2 reasons: the first being in case someone should decide to peek in and find them there, and the other being that he needed some… privacy.
He felt the last of the air leaving Omi's lungs as the boy's back made contact with the wall. Schuldich pondered for a moment and decided that the last thing he needed was a dead kitten on his hands. Fingers unclamped themselves from his throat slowly, Omi's body slackening readily once released from the painful grip. The now empty hand lazily dragged itself down to the younger man's pale collarbone before coming to squeeze at his shoulder. An eyebrow was raised at the final infringement on their privacy – Omi's intercom earpiece. Clicking his tongue against his teeth, he jauntily plucked the intercom off Omi and tossed it backwards. Little care was paid to the object as it landed among the crates behind them, Schuldich's attention having long been turned back to the blonde that he had cornered.
"It's always a pleasure to see you, Tsukiyono. Not expecting us, were you? I was kind of… missing you…" The German leaned in close to Omi's ear and whispered almost voicelessly. He could sense the boy's discomfort from the way that the muscles under his hand twisted in his grasp. People's discomfort always pleased him – it was a sure sign of his ability to unsettle them. Not to mention that causing anxiety was but one of his many hobbies. He drank in the emotions playing in the boy's head as their foreheads touched. There was a slight burning on his prey's skin - perhaps there was a tinge of embarrassment on the part of Bombay from having been trapped so easily…
Or it could be because they were so close that they were able to hear each other's heartbeats…
The German chuckled softly and eyed the blonde – "Surely you miss me too, katzchen…? I've really missed playing with you; playing those lovely little night games. Just you and me, you know: the two of us…"
The first unhurried bare skin-to-skin contact always wound the little spring of desire in him a little tighter. Soon, hands were touching and fingers interlocking above Omi's head as Schuldich leaned in even closer. The redhead took a moment to revel in their height difference – Omi being over 2 heads shorter than he was. There was something vulnerable about the young Japanese boy, conveyed especially by his height and his deep blue eyes. Did he mention what a stunning blue those eyes were? Well, they were magnificent to stare into, although it meant some knee bending on the part of the German if he wanted to come to eyelevel with the boy. Omi had turned his head slightly at that moment, breaking the eye contact first as he swallowed dryly. Smirking at the unnatural submissiveness shown, Schuldich leaned in to plant a quick kiss on the boy's cheek. It elicited a small shiver from the blonde as he turned away even more – not wanting to look into the darker blues that were boring right into him.
Schuldich could not resist a smirk as he watched the reactions of the boy pinned in front of him. Denial never showed itself more clearly than this – and the exhilaration that came from breaking the prey was half the fun. Smoothly, he released one hand and slid it down to cup the blonde's cheek, forcing him to meet his gaze.
Defiance surfaced again as the bright sapphires turned faced him but never actually looked at him. The emotions in them had faded away to into oblivion already, making it clear that Omi was trying to remove himself from the scene as much as possible. This only served to excite the German even further – it would prove to be such a delightful challenge to break the kitten's composure.
A quick link with Omi's mind caused the German's confident smirk to disappear – only moments ago he was still panicking from being found out by their target's security team. When Schuldich first approached him the young assassin's heartbeats were as loud as that of a preyed mammal. And now he was so detached, so drawn away from the situation at hand that his body like an empty shell to the German. The sweet honey of the boy's mind seemed to have seeped away into some unseen parts of his body, making it harder to read Omi than ever. It greatly antagonised the fire-haired man.
"Why such a serious expression, Omi? I've seen the terror in you only moments ago… and now you're forcing yourself to put on a brave front at me? Don't you think I know enough to realise how hollow that façade is, hmmmm?"
"I don't have time for your games, Schwarz." Cold, controlled and calm.
It often puzzled Schuldich – he had expected this man, no, boy, to be the most naïve and gullible among his teammates. But that expectation was formed based on his appearances alone. Such beautiful husks always drew Schuldich towards them, tempting him to seek out their inner richness. Sometimes they promised riches unfound, but most of the time their self-centred thoughts hardly amused him. He had wondered about this little Bombay kitten in particular – such a delicate little creature: all smiles and no fangs. Omi intrigued him, and Schuldich loved to be intrigued.
He had been inside the boy's mind uninvited – he had seen how the kitten had more kills and more experience than any other member of Weiß. The blonde had been born into this life to be a murderer but looked nothing like one. At one point in time Schuldich actually pitied the blonde, taking him into his arms and offering him a no-strings attached physical outlet for his frustrations. Initially he thought of the arrangement as a chance to unlock the intricate puzzle that Omi was – a chance to see the demons that resided within that appealing little shell. It was only later on that he learnt that the younger man had no lingering demons to speak of.
It could be because they needed someone on the team to remind them that there would still be brighter days to look forward to despite all the restless night they spent stewing in their guilt. That someone they chose was Omi. And lived up to those expectations Omi did. A little too well at times, in fact – it caused his cheery exterior to be mistaken for innocent hopefulness. If the boy had any demons, they must have been suppressed really, really well for them to totally escape detection by the German. But innocence and Omi had never occurred in the same sentence to Schuldich – not unless he wanted to fantasise about a virginal fuck.
"I've seen you kill, katzchen…" The German's voice dropped to a nasal hiss as he crushed the boy against the wall almost painfully, hips grounding against his prey's seductively, "I've already seen the monster that you have become – that you do not spend your nights weeping like those helpless fools on your team; that you lie to them to keep them strong because you need them to function as a team… So stop trying to intimidate me already."
Sapphire blues looked up at him coolly, "I never tried to frighten you, Schuldich."
Frighten!? That very word was enough to turn the anger knob in the German's head up by several notches. Angrily he seized the boy and drew him into a kiss that was more akin to a series of tongue wrestling than anything else. The blonde had obliged him; even threw in a well-timed moan or 2 at the right moments to drive up the desire in the German for him. This was the role that he had been taught to settle into with Schuldich. The thrusting tongue was withdrawn and teeth raked dangerously over the younger assassin's neck, nipping at the tender flesh and marking him as the mouth sucked and gnawed at him insistently.
And all the time, the boy said nothing. He simply waited for the right moment to present itself. His task at hand was to play out his given role dutifully. And that was all that was required of him for now.
::You're not naïve, katzchen. You've seen a lot of monsters, and you are capable of becoming one if you aren't already one…:: A hurried hand tugged back the boy's jacket and exposed his shoulder where Schuldich's mouth next took possession of. Tanzanites sealed off as Schuldich concentrated on the soft skin pressing against his lip. ::So tell me why you still try to look like an angel.::
/I'm not an angel, Schuldich. You just made me out to be one./ The answer was so matter-of-fact that it caused the German to pause thoughtfully for a second. Almost immediately the taller man drew back and was studying his silent lover intently, a finger running across his own bruised lips coyly. It looked as if he was trying to decide if he should continue seducing the younger man, or if he should try to address the statement that was brought up.
A smug sneer was formed, followed by a dismissive wave from the redhead, "Then they have never made prettier devils than you, katzchen."
Omi didn't reply – he simply gazed right back at Schuldich expressionlessly, as always. It wouldn't have bothered Schuldich so much if he at least *knew* what the boy was thinking about.
Tanzanites studied the blonde carefully before their owner leaned forward to place a mockingly chaste kiss on the boy's forehead. His hands came up to cup the boy's cheek and drew him closer towards himself while the kiss impressed itself fully onto the skin. Once the act was complete the hands drew back and came to press at the boy's chest. Then the German smirked and firmly pushed Omi backwards and towards the door, ignoring the puzzled looks that Omi was giving him.
"They'll be looking for you very soon, liebe. You better return to them – they need you more than I do now."
Curious sapphires shone out in the darkness as lips parted to form a simple statement, "But you'll need me too, Schuldich. Eventually."
He had laughed, of course – he laughed so hard that the tears broke free and rolled down his cheek as he tried to contain his amusement at the younger assassin's words. He would have thrown himself down onto the ground and howled with laughter while pounding his fists into the ground for emphasise, but it occurred to him that it was pretty silly to engage in such an undignified display. /To want him? To need him? Who does he think he is?/ When he finally managed to regain his composure, he turned to face Omi, expecting to register an offended look from the boy. But instead the blonde remained the same – with an air of quiet confidence surrounding him as he regarded the older man.
Schuldich laughed again, a hand raised to wipe away the droplets staining his face, "Such a playful, teasing little kitten… Perhaps I will want you again one of these days – and you'll get to answer some booty call soon enough. Now run along, little one. Before your precious teammates come looking for you here."
"Goodbye, Schuldich." It was such an uncomplicated statement before the door was opened and closed by another for the last time that night. When the light footfalls could no longer be heard, the German laughed again. But this time he was laughing at himself. It was a tearless, dry laugh that echoed in the room – the one that he reserved for mocking his fallen foes.
He was under Bombay's control. And there was nothing he could do about it.
~ End
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Author's notes: Like all writers, I appreciate C&C anytime ^.^