2 weeks earlier, east end Tokyo...

"Fucking bastard," Schuldig muttered to himself as he stared into the bathroom mirror, the fingers of one hand thread through a mass of fiery strands. Frowning disapprovingly, he tried leaning in closer to his reflection, but as he had suspected, the bruise wouldn't go away just because he willed it to; the almost cheerful purple, black and blue looking all the more livid in the sharp light.

He tried prodding it with two fingers and hissed through clenched teeth in annoyance as it smarted fiercely. He was probably lucky to still have all his teeth.

"Smack in the face. Asshole," he swore, turning his head this way and that, glaring at his chin to no avail.

There was a vague pain accompanying it, just a dull throbbing at the moment, but that was probably due to the three or four beers he had already had, as preparation for the night to come. By tomorrow, it would probably be a lot worse.

But let's deal with tomorrow's worries tomorrow, he thought philosophically. Tonight was Saturday, and downtown Tokyo wouldn't stop moving just because he had a shiner.

One last look in the mirror confirmed that everything was in its place, so Schuldig merely shrugged and strolled out of there, pausing only to snatch his black leather jacket and sling it over his shoulder before heading downstairs.

As he silently padded through the living room, he spotted a dark head poking up from beneath a pile of books and grinned to himself. Dear little Nagi, always as dutiful and meticulous.

"I'm leaving now" Schuldig announced loudly and cheerfully, making Nagi jump and glare up at him.

"Where are you going?" the kid demanded, dark blue eyes tense and a little worried. He didn't much like being left alone in the house with Crawford and Farfarello; it always made him uncomfortable.

Schuldig couldn't say he blamed him, although it was more than a little weird to think that having him around would improve the kid's sense of security much.

"Out."

"I gathered as much," was the dry reply. "Out where?"

"Depends." There was a plate of grapes resting on the table next to the pile of books, so Schuldig reached out and snatched a couple, chuckling as he easily evaded the swat Nagi was aiming at him with his ruler. His mirth was cut short, however, as a sharp mental slap was aimed at the back of his head.

"Ow, dammit!" he growled, rubbing at the sore spot. "You cheated, you little shit!"

"All is fair in love and war," was the absentminded reply as Nagi studiously ignored him, his eyes trained on some stupid book.

"Why, Nagikins, I didn't know you felt that way about me," Schuldig smirked as he went out into the small hallway to pull on his boots.

"In your dreams, slut."

"Not really. Where's Crawfish, by the way?

He could feel rather than hear the boy's irritation, and he barely had to listen to know the expected answer.

"Stop calling him that, Schuldig."

"Mind your own business. Same shit, different name and all that. Where is he?"

"Asleep. His visions gave him a headache again."

"Poor darling. Then he won't mind me leaving," Schuldig said in a mocking tone of voice and slid the door open. "See you later, kid. Have fun with the homework," he scoffed, closing the door behind him.

As he leaned against it, smiling to himself and hauling out a crumpled pack of cigarettes, he heard the kid's voice in his mind. It was barely audible, and Schuldig knew it wasn't meant for him, but there it was nonetheless.

But I mind you leaving.

He stuck a cigarette into his mouth and lit it, inhaling deeply as he tried to ignore the small twang of guilt that tugged at him. Dammit, the kid always had a way of getting to him.

"Must be getting soft in your old age, Schuldig," he huffed to himself and took another drag of his cigarette before heading outside and into the warm night.

---

The brightness and volume of the crowd around him was really rather mind-boggling, Schuldig thought jovially as he sauntered through the thick masses of people filling the street, the air heavy with expectation, cigarette smoke and the smell of food from various stands.

Not that he minded it much. The noise from outside of his head confused the constant mumble inside of it enough that both were tolerable, for once, and it was a very cheerful Schuldig that slowly picked his way through the streets, hands shoved deep into his pockets.

He didn't have a particular goal in mind; any place or person that could get him good and properly wasted would do.

Quietly breaking loose from the throng, he slipped in through an open doorway. The dark interior was quite a shock to the eyes at first, but he soon got used to it and slid down onto a chair by the counter, eyeing the selection of drinks. Expensive, but strong. Just the place he was looking for.

Many hours later, a slightly less steady Schuldig made his wobbly way out of yet another bar and out into the streets. The crowds had thinned out considerably by now, which was good since he was quite royally pissed at this point.

The commotion inside his head had been reduced to a dull throbbing hours ago, as had the aches and pains of his battered body, but he was still looking for something else, something… better. He had spent many hours on the dance floor during the night, tightly coiled around this or that unknown beauty, but so far, no one had attracted his curiosity enough to warrant anything more.

And he needed something more, dammit. It would stop the noise, would make sure there was blessed silence, if only for a little while. It would probably also annoy Crawford, making it a double pleasure for the German.

Crossing the sidewalk, he weaved a dangerous path across the road, having spotted yet another club. They were all the same, really; loud, smoky and stinking from an excessive amount of people crammed together, but there was no harm in looking anyway, was there?

He had barely stepped inside as he stopped dead in his tracks, swaying dangerously back and forth before finding a wall he could lean against, his eyes narrowing.

There was someone in this bar with a very familiar mental flavour, but he couldn't quite place it… oh, holy shit. Now that was unexpected.

Schuldig smirked to himself. Damn, those Weiss were more unpredictable than he had given them credit for. If it had been Kudoh he had stumbled across in a place like this, he would barely have raised an eyebrow – the man was a little horny slut, after all - but this?

He carefully approached the table. The other man hadn't even noticed him and Schuldig shook his head with a grin. How reckless. It would be so easy for him just to sneak up on the other redhead and…

But hang on. Damn right it would be easy – too easy. And easy usually meant less fun. And if it was anything Schuldig was good at, it was having fun.

---

"Just serve me another, and don't tell me how much I can handle!" Aya said sourly to the barkeep and held out his glass for another double whiskey. He looked around for a dealer, needing something harder. Anything to make the feeling of inadequacy go away. Aya-chan had been gone for more than a week, and nothing he could do would bring her back. He felt dreadful about being here, instead of out there looking for her, but with each fresh drink he knew just how hopeless it was anyway.

Spotting a familiar face he purchased a small envelope of powder. He sat down at the bar again, inhaling quite openly. Well, everyone else did too in that place, which was kind of why he went there. His mind was quickly enveloped in a soft haze and he sighed into his whiskey, finally beginning to relax a little, numbness replacing the emptiness. He jumped when he heard a familiar snarl in his ear.

"Well, fancy finding such a prissy flower boy in a place like this! If I may pay you a compliment, you look like shit, Abyssinian."

"You..." Aya didn't know how to react. He was unarmed, pissed as a newt and high as a kite. If Schuldig wanted to kill him all he had to do was basically to topple him off his chair. He shrugged, not really caring, but doubting that Schuldig would attempt anything so drastic in a crowded bar. "Well, let me return the compliment then," he drawled. "You look just like yourself!"

"Ha! Was that supposed to be an insult?" Schuldig laughed and sat down on the suddenly available seat next to Aya's. "I thought you could do better. A sorry state to find an adversary in. Hardly worth the effort to fight you."

"I'm not gonna fight you." Aya whispered dejectedly. "If you want to kill me, have it done with, I don't give a shit!" He reached for his glass and downed the whiskey, waving at the bartender to bring another. He suddenly looked at Schuldig with a wicked grin, finding the situation quite amusing. "Care to join me? I'm buying!" Aya waved at the bartender and held up two fingers, pointing at Schuldig.

"Sure, as long as you keep buying." Schuldig grinned back and made himself more comfortable, then looked at Aya. "I'm not here to kill you, so you can take that martyr look off your face."

"What are you doing here then?"

"Same as you, looking to get stoned. I saw you scored back there. Share?"

"Sure… why not?" Aya snorted and handed Schuldig the envelope, watching as he helped himself to a snort, and then handed it back. "Didn't know you were… using. Got it bad?" Aya commiserated.

"Bad enough…. Get the shivers if I don't, besides, can't be bloody bothered to live without it. Gives me a little peace." Schuldig closed his eyes and enjoyed the rush of blood to his brain, almost drowning out the voices for a few precious seconds. "And you… why do you seek oblivion? I'd thought you'd sleep well on all your good deeds."

The familiar smirk made Aya sneer back. "Don't sleep. No point. Only leads to another bloody day."

"Oh… I thought you guys always looked so… happy?" Schuldig grinned, accepting the whiskey from the bartender, handing Aya his glass.

"Yeah, right! Here's to happiness!" Aya scowled and held his glass up to Schuldig "…if The Beatles were right, that is," he mumbled, singing in a low voice: "Happiness… is a warm gun."

"You really are a merry little thing tonight, huh?" Schuldig grinned, finding it rare to meet a man with a mood to match his own so well.

"You would be too if you were me. No friends. No family. No prospect of ever getting one... or getting it back!" Aya whispered so softly that Schuldig had to strain to hear what he was saying.

"Oh, come on. You're only a kid. What are you, 20-21? You can get a family. Wifey, kids, car and half a dog. I can see that happening to you," Schuldig said, almost kindly.

"Not bloody likely!" Aya blubbered sourly into his whiskey. "Can't… abide women!"

'No, I know. They nag somewhat awful, and… Oh!" Schuldig's eyebrows were suddenly raised as he scanned the surface of Aya's mind and realised his own naïveté. "You mean… you prefer men?"

"Not only prefer… can't… at all, with a woman."

"Well then, you should be happy as a clam living in your nice little manly community, with three guys!"

"Hell no! It's a pain in the ass living there!" Aya complained without looking up.

Schuldig's raw laughter brought Aya out of his drunken stupor for a minute and he frowned at him, shaking his head at the coarse, yet unspoken joke. "I should bloody think so, you lucky punk." Schuldig punched him lightly in the shoulder, and Aya flinched.

"Baka!" He sneered and drank of his whiskey, turning to face the other redhead. "They are not! Not that it's any of your business, but not… any of them. I don't think so. Ken and Yohji are always slobbering over women, and Omi's just too young to know Eve from Adam yet. It's lonelier living there than on the street! I can't even talk to them about it… they'd probably be disgusted! Like you are. Good bloody job I don't care."

"Like hell you don't care. And I'm not!"

"You're not what?"

"Not disgusted."

"Why not?"

"I'm not exactly innocent, now am I, little sword wielder? I know what gay is, and I know what gay does."

"Are you gay?" Aya stared open-mouthed at Schuldig and quickly sipped at his whiskey to hide his surprise.

"Technically, no."

"'Didn't think so!" Aya went back to sipping his whiskey, oddly disappointed.

"Not exactly straight either," Schuldig admitted, taking a deep sip from his own drink, looking intensely down into the glass.

"Not straight? Oh… you swing both ways?"

"I don't swing!" Schuldig looked disgusted at the term. "I take… what I want from the buffet. I've been with women, loads of them. It's ok. They're just so bloody fragile. Break too easily. I prefer the more sturdy company of a man."

"In bed?" Aya paused in his drinking to look up again, staring at Schuldig as if he'd never seen him before.

"No, when I go scuba diving, you idiot! Yes, in bed! It's just more of a challenge with a man. Though, I don't like butch men. I prefer a type like…" he looked around the bar, and then returned his gaze to Aya. "…like you, actually." He smiled as Aya's jaw dropped visibly.

"Well, I'll be damned! Masterminds' a pillow biter!" Aya snickered to himself, and then swayed on his barstool as the drink began to take effect. "Oops, sorry" he said as he fell into Schuldig and quickly righted himself. "Not quite… sober."

"I've noticed." Schuldig said overbearingly. "Why the hell are you so bloody pissed? Bad day at the office?"

"Yeah… you can say that. Can't find my sw…sni…sister, Aya. She's locked in a coma… and someone has apparently moved… or taken her. Even… even if I find her, she's never going to get out of that coma."

Schuldig looked oddly at him, as Aya had apparently forgotten who it was that kidnapped his sister in the first place. Oh, well. Better keep his mouth shut for now.

Aya didn't notice it, but tears started trickling down his cheeks. "One thing… one thing my mother asked me to do. 'Always take care of your sister, you're the elder, her brother, it's your responsibility, promise me that.' Well, I promised her! And I failed! Sometimes I wish she would just die, so I could too."

Aya swayed again, and held out a hand to Schuldig to steady himself. "Just… want peace, but I can't find it anywhere. I hear my mother's voice in my mind all the time, 'take care of her, take care of her'. Incessantly! I want it to stop!" Aya turned tear-filled eyes to Schuldig, not caring whether it was friend or foe sitting next to him, just needing to share his torment with another living being.

"Oh, you think you're bothered by voices in your head?" Schuldig almost laughed out loud and told Aya of his little problem with eight million voices, give or take a hundred thousand, in his head. When he had finished his story Aya had stopped crying, and just sat staring.

"That… stinks!" Aya finally said drunkenly, putting a hand on Schuldig's thigh for balance. "Have another drink, with me? You… you probably need it even more than I do." He hiccupped once as he called the bartender over and asked for a bottle. The two of them sat in relative silence, steadily drinking the entire bottle of whiskey, now and then looking up to assure the other one that life really did stink, and it was nice to agree on at least one thing.

" Wrright… swould be getting home fnow." Aya declared and stood up, promptly folding like a jack-knife, lying prone across Schuldig's lap, slight snoring noises emitting from the vicinity of his mouth. Schuldig sighed, hefted him up on his shoulder and made his wobbly way out of the bar and hailed a cab. He had to repeat the address three times, his Japanese had suddenly got very slurry, but after re-directing the driver a few times they drove up in front of a little flower shop.

Schuldig got them both out of the cab and rummaged around Aya's pockets for a key. He found it, and let them in through the side door. He mustered the last of his mind power to ensure that everyone else in the house were fast asleep and made his way up stairs with his sleeping charge. He found the one empty room that had to be Aya's and pulled off their overcoats and boots, before letting them both drop down on the large bed.

--

Several hours later Schuldig woke, disorientated at first, but when he felt the steady breathing next to him he remembered where he was, and he grinned a little at his own folly. Right smack in the enemies' nest. Too much whiskey and coke in him for his own good, and he didn't even feel like running. Instead he moved closer to the sleeping body next to his, rubbing his pelvis against Aya's, his lips curving in a smile when there was an instant reaction, and Aya stirred, slowly waking.

"Is that your sword, or are you happy to see me?" He grinned.

"That's my sword!" Aya grinned and tried to ignore his hangover and the fact that Schuldig smelt damned good, whiskey fumes aside.

"You don't feel overdressed?" Schuldig suggested as he shrugged out of his own clothes first, dumping them very un-assassin like in a pile on the floor next to the bed, and then turned his attention to the buttons of Aya's pants, finding no resistance from the reclining redhead.

"Yeah…a bit." Aya agreed and pulled his sweatshirt off as Schuldig yanked his pants down over his hips and thighs, Aya aiding him by kicking them off his ankles. He was beginning to feel faintly sober, only too aware that there was not only a warm body in bed with him, but the body was one of a deadly enemy. There was however, a part of him that didn't care what the mind of the body next to him entailed.

That part was the virgin part. The 'fucking tired of being a virgin part' of the man. Twenty-two! Fucking twenty-two and still a virgin! Flashes of his mother and father talking about his future girlfriends, his mother turning away when he asked for a hug saying that at the age of sixteen it was no longer her job. His father telling him how to take a woman with patience as he worked so hard not to show his disgust at the very idea. The cold, cold years since then. All those years, when no one had touched him, unless they were trying to kill him.

But there was another part of him, the part between his legs that now reacted violently to knowing it was a man in his bed now, a man stripping him, a man that wanted to touch him … and more. It was hard to breathe, he could clearly hear his own laboured breathing, sure that the sound demanded the attention and awareness of both of them.

"Schuldig…?" … he whispered, not sure whether to tell him to go ahead or warn him to go slow, but above anything else not wanting him to stop. He felt warm fingers running up the inside of his thigh as a pair of lips closed around his right nipple and he moaned loudly, surprised at his own response to such a light touch. And then he almost roared as a hand closed around his already throbbing shaft.

He felt like such an amateur as he bucked into the pumping fingers, sure that Schuldig already knew what an inexperienced virgin he was, and then suddenly relaxed as his mind sobered enough to remember that Schuldig did know 'Of course he knows', Aya chided himself. You can read it from my mind, can't you? And you still want me? he thought, knowing it would be received, spreading his legs knowing that that message would be received too.

The kiss nearly made him keel over. He had no idea it could feel this good and his hands shot up to entangle themselves in the long, cool hair. Oh, but this was good! And that hand… and those fingers! Oh... fuck! What WERE those fingers doing.. oh, nononono...oh, yesyesyes... that's why it was forbidden? It was too good to share? His eyes flew open as he heard his own mouth command Schuldig to take him and then almost sing out in pleasure as something large and hard pressed against him, and into him, rocking his world in every way possible. Rocking him. Taking him. Sending him sky-high and then holding him in an embrace normally reserved for those you love dearly.

---

When he woke in the morning there was of course no trace of anything but a hangover. Aya laughed to himself as he gingerly sat up in bed, carefully shaking his head at the silly dreams he'd had. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat up. And came to the harsh realisation that he was definitely no longer a virgin! He rapidly concluded that he had better lie down again and analyse the 'weird Schuldig dream' a little closer, starting with the fact that the pillow smelled of lemon and there were teeth marks around his nipple.

He liked the smell of the pillow...

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