I don't know how I did it, but I was able to dish out 5 pages in my 8-½
hours at work. For me, that's pretty damn good. I just hope it doesn't
sound like I wrote while standing in front of a register. But anywho, the
usual disclaimers and //\\ means telekinetic communication and shtuff and,
well.yeah.
************************************************************************
"Kopfschmerzen?" Crawford looked at him.
"Ja, a headache." Schuldig buried his head back in his knees. "And I need someplace quiet to be."
Crawford stood there looking at the seemingly vulnerable figure balled up on his couch. Inwardly, he felt sorry for the man. He had begun to look at Schuldig as a strong person; he figured he had to be to do what he did and not feel anything. Crawford sure as hell felt something though he tried his best to hide it.
He sat on the other side of the couch facing Schuldig. "Do you always get these migraines?"
"As long as I can remember," Schu said through his knees. "One of the massive side effects of my mental abilities." He lifted his head and looked at Crawford through red, puffy eyes. "Have you ever had a thousand people scream at you all at once?"
Crawford shook his head.
"That's what it's like for me. I have this annoying ability to hear and pick up people's thoughts whether I want to or not. Normally it's just background noise in my head, but sometimes they start screaming at me. Normally I just don't listen to them, but the louder they are, the harder it is to not listen to them, so I get this massive headache and I've no way to shut them up, and God my head hurts." Schuldig buried his head back in his knees.
"Everybody's thoughts?" Crawford asked him.
"Everybody's. Which is why it's so easy for me to read people's minds. I'm so receptive to everything. Too receptive, if you ask me. Sometimes I can't even distinguish my own thoughts from those of other's. Which is why I also have a habit of talking to myself sometimes. Hearing my own voice helps me collect my own thoughts."
"Aren't you being helped with forming mental barriers by some of the other telepaths in this place?"
Schuldig started to rub his temples. "Ja, but I haven't gotten very far. Granted, before I came here, I had no defense against the thoughts, but I can't seem to totally block them out. And now that I'm using my mind more just for forming these barriers, the headaches seem worse than before."
Crawford stood up and got some Tylenol® from the bathroom. He came back and held his hand out. "Here, I'll get you some water."
Schuldig looked up and accepted the medicine. "I don't know how much this will do."
"Well, maybe it'll help." Crawford got a glass from his desk and went back to the bathroom for some water. When he returned to the office, he saw Schuldig struggling with the cap of the medicine bottle.
He had it in his hands and was trying to twist the cap off. "Come on you stupid piece of mother fucking plastic bottle. Why do they make these things so damned hard to open!?" Schu started hitting the bottle against the couch cushion. "Why won't you open you cock-sucker."
Crawford set the water on the end table and grabbed for Schuldig's swinging arms. "Schuldig, Schuldig.Schuldig!"
Schuldig stopped when Crawford finally grabbed a hold of his wrists. Crawford looked at him as if he were insane. Schu stared back at him, the throbbing becoming more intense. He started to cry again. "Oh, please make it stop."
Crawford took the Tylenol, opened it and gave two pills to Schu. He then reached back and grabbed the glass of water. "Now, try to relax. Your sobbing isn't going to get you anywhere."
Schuldig swallowed the pills and finished off the water. He tried to suck it up, but the more he tried, the harder the tears came. He handed the glass back to Crawford, who took it from a shaking hand, and Schu placed his fingers back onto his temples.
Crawford placed his hands on the other man's shoulders and pulled him toward his chest. He embraced Schu gently, since he was in so much pain already. "Schuldig, focus on my mind."
Between quiet sobs, he said, "You moron, you have no mind as far as I'm concerned."
"Therefore," Crawford whispered, "The absence of my mind might alleviate all the minds if you were to focus on it."
"Crawford, I can not concentrate very well as it is and trying to find your mind in the midst of hundreds of other minds is like trying to find a needle the size of your thumb nail in a haystack the size of Munich. I don't think I am up to the challenge."
Okay, he had a point. If Schuldig were going to concentrate on his mind, he would have to find it in the vast sea of other thoughts swimming around his head. Crawford let down one of his outer most barriers; an act he hadn't done in goodness knows how long. He called out to the other man he was holding.
//Schuldig.\\ he whispered to him, //Can you hear me?\\
Schuldig sat up and looked at the man with surprise. "You do have a mind after all."
//Now try focusing.\\
Schuldig followed Crawford's 'voice', as difficult and painful as it was. He finally found the void in between all of the voices and the thoughts. He relaxed. "Oh God," Schu whispered, "You are so quiet." He nuzzled himself into Crawford's chest.
"How is your head now?"
"I still have a head ache, but I feel better." Actually, now he felt really tired. Crying takes a lot out of a person. Schuldig started to fall asleep, but then he felt Crawford move and then himself being lifted up in the air.
Crawford had figured, if he was going to fall asleep, it mind as well be somewhere more comfortable than the couch. So, he decided to carry the German man off to his own bed. Surprisingly, Schu was quite light.
Being this close to Crawford was actually really comfortable, so inviting. Under normal circumstances, Schu would have jumped at a chance like this, but right now, he was not in the mood.
He was carried into a fairly dark room; some light coming in from behind the drapes. Crawford set him on the bed. He took Schu's shoes off and pulled the blankets up over him. "Rest."
Schuldig watched as Crawford went over to the dresser and removed his tie and dress shirt; neatly folding them and setting them on the dresser and pulled out a T-shirt. He smiled at Crawford's form underneath the new shirt. His usual business-like attire hardly did him justice. Schu's headache was subsiding enough that he could enjoy the view.
Crawford walked over to the other side of the bed and got in. He inched himself closer to Schuldig until they were touching. Wrapping his arms around Schu, Crawford started to gently kiss his temples.
Oh, why now? Of all the times to want to make out, he had to pick now. God, Crawford was inconsiderate. Did he already forget the display Schuldig put on not ten minutes ago?
"Crawford? Please, not now. I really don't think I would be as enjoyable in my current state."
"Ssshhhhh.you just rest," Crawford whispered. "I just want to kiss you, is that okay?"
That's it? He just wanted to kiss him. Nobody wanted to just kiss him. Was that possible?
Schuldig nodded. He felt Crawford's lips lightly touch his cheek, then his temple, then his cheek again, then his chin. Then, he stopped. Schuldig suddenly felt his scalp being massaged by Crawford's hand. That's it. That's all he wanted.
Schuldig felt kind of odd. He had never met a partner who respected what he wanted. He always did whatever they wanted and they never asked if they could do anything. It was one of the many things that made him feel like scum. But Schu came to expect it.
But here, just now, Crawford gave him something he'd never received before: consideration. For once in his life, Schuldig actually felt good about himself. He rolled onto his side so he was facing the now sleeping Crawford. Schu rested his head against his chest and fell asleep.
**********************
Crawford slowly opened his eyes and looked around. He turned his head and focused on the clock: 5:37 a.m. He then turned back and focused on the mass of orange hair sticking out from underneath his covers. Crawford smiled. The guy wasn't so bad, he guessed. He doesn't snore, so that's a good thing. He ran his fingers through Schuldig's hair. What did he see in him? What was so attractive about him? He really didn't know. After a while, Crawford fell back asleep.
Schuldig came out of his unconscious slumber; greeted by the usual onslaught of thoughts. He thought for a moment, then remembering that he had slept in Crawford's bed. He slept with someone. Schu had never literally slept with anyone. He usually was the first to leave. Sleeping together was not part of his former job description.
He felt Crawford next to him who was still asleep. It was comforting. He wasn't here because he was being paid to be, or because he got drunk last night; he was there because the man there with him wanted to sleep with him. It was a new feeling. He couldn't describe it.
Schuldig turned and looked at Crawford's face. Expressionless as ever. He ran his fore finger across Crawford's lips. He was so different; like none other. Schu rested his head on Crawford's shoulder. "Crawford," he said aloud to himself, "I think I'm in love with you." He closed his eyes and let sleep take over again.
************************************************************************
"Kopfschmerzen?" Crawford looked at him.
"Ja, a headache." Schuldig buried his head back in his knees. "And I need someplace quiet to be."
Crawford stood there looking at the seemingly vulnerable figure balled up on his couch. Inwardly, he felt sorry for the man. He had begun to look at Schuldig as a strong person; he figured he had to be to do what he did and not feel anything. Crawford sure as hell felt something though he tried his best to hide it.
He sat on the other side of the couch facing Schuldig. "Do you always get these migraines?"
"As long as I can remember," Schu said through his knees. "One of the massive side effects of my mental abilities." He lifted his head and looked at Crawford through red, puffy eyes. "Have you ever had a thousand people scream at you all at once?"
Crawford shook his head.
"That's what it's like for me. I have this annoying ability to hear and pick up people's thoughts whether I want to or not. Normally it's just background noise in my head, but sometimes they start screaming at me. Normally I just don't listen to them, but the louder they are, the harder it is to not listen to them, so I get this massive headache and I've no way to shut them up, and God my head hurts." Schuldig buried his head back in his knees.
"Everybody's thoughts?" Crawford asked him.
"Everybody's. Which is why it's so easy for me to read people's minds. I'm so receptive to everything. Too receptive, if you ask me. Sometimes I can't even distinguish my own thoughts from those of other's. Which is why I also have a habit of talking to myself sometimes. Hearing my own voice helps me collect my own thoughts."
"Aren't you being helped with forming mental barriers by some of the other telepaths in this place?"
Schuldig started to rub his temples. "Ja, but I haven't gotten very far. Granted, before I came here, I had no defense against the thoughts, but I can't seem to totally block them out. And now that I'm using my mind more just for forming these barriers, the headaches seem worse than before."
Crawford stood up and got some Tylenol® from the bathroom. He came back and held his hand out. "Here, I'll get you some water."
Schuldig looked up and accepted the medicine. "I don't know how much this will do."
"Well, maybe it'll help." Crawford got a glass from his desk and went back to the bathroom for some water. When he returned to the office, he saw Schuldig struggling with the cap of the medicine bottle.
He had it in his hands and was trying to twist the cap off. "Come on you stupid piece of mother fucking plastic bottle. Why do they make these things so damned hard to open!?" Schu started hitting the bottle against the couch cushion. "Why won't you open you cock-sucker."
Crawford set the water on the end table and grabbed for Schuldig's swinging arms. "Schuldig, Schuldig.Schuldig!"
Schuldig stopped when Crawford finally grabbed a hold of his wrists. Crawford looked at him as if he were insane. Schu stared back at him, the throbbing becoming more intense. He started to cry again. "Oh, please make it stop."
Crawford took the Tylenol, opened it and gave two pills to Schu. He then reached back and grabbed the glass of water. "Now, try to relax. Your sobbing isn't going to get you anywhere."
Schuldig swallowed the pills and finished off the water. He tried to suck it up, but the more he tried, the harder the tears came. He handed the glass back to Crawford, who took it from a shaking hand, and Schu placed his fingers back onto his temples.
Crawford placed his hands on the other man's shoulders and pulled him toward his chest. He embraced Schu gently, since he was in so much pain already. "Schuldig, focus on my mind."
Between quiet sobs, he said, "You moron, you have no mind as far as I'm concerned."
"Therefore," Crawford whispered, "The absence of my mind might alleviate all the minds if you were to focus on it."
"Crawford, I can not concentrate very well as it is and trying to find your mind in the midst of hundreds of other minds is like trying to find a needle the size of your thumb nail in a haystack the size of Munich. I don't think I am up to the challenge."
Okay, he had a point. If Schuldig were going to concentrate on his mind, he would have to find it in the vast sea of other thoughts swimming around his head. Crawford let down one of his outer most barriers; an act he hadn't done in goodness knows how long. He called out to the other man he was holding.
//Schuldig.\\ he whispered to him, //Can you hear me?\\
Schuldig sat up and looked at the man with surprise. "You do have a mind after all."
//Now try focusing.\\
Schuldig followed Crawford's 'voice', as difficult and painful as it was. He finally found the void in between all of the voices and the thoughts. He relaxed. "Oh God," Schu whispered, "You are so quiet." He nuzzled himself into Crawford's chest.
"How is your head now?"
"I still have a head ache, but I feel better." Actually, now he felt really tired. Crying takes a lot out of a person. Schuldig started to fall asleep, but then he felt Crawford move and then himself being lifted up in the air.
Crawford had figured, if he was going to fall asleep, it mind as well be somewhere more comfortable than the couch. So, he decided to carry the German man off to his own bed. Surprisingly, Schu was quite light.
Being this close to Crawford was actually really comfortable, so inviting. Under normal circumstances, Schu would have jumped at a chance like this, but right now, he was not in the mood.
He was carried into a fairly dark room; some light coming in from behind the drapes. Crawford set him on the bed. He took Schu's shoes off and pulled the blankets up over him. "Rest."
Schuldig watched as Crawford went over to the dresser and removed his tie and dress shirt; neatly folding them and setting them on the dresser and pulled out a T-shirt. He smiled at Crawford's form underneath the new shirt. His usual business-like attire hardly did him justice. Schu's headache was subsiding enough that he could enjoy the view.
Crawford walked over to the other side of the bed and got in. He inched himself closer to Schuldig until they were touching. Wrapping his arms around Schu, Crawford started to gently kiss his temples.
Oh, why now? Of all the times to want to make out, he had to pick now. God, Crawford was inconsiderate. Did he already forget the display Schuldig put on not ten minutes ago?
"Crawford? Please, not now. I really don't think I would be as enjoyable in my current state."
"Ssshhhhh.you just rest," Crawford whispered. "I just want to kiss you, is that okay?"
That's it? He just wanted to kiss him. Nobody wanted to just kiss him. Was that possible?
Schuldig nodded. He felt Crawford's lips lightly touch his cheek, then his temple, then his cheek again, then his chin. Then, he stopped. Schuldig suddenly felt his scalp being massaged by Crawford's hand. That's it. That's all he wanted.
Schuldig felt kind of odd. He had never met a partner who respected what he wanted. He always did whatever they wanted and they never asked if they could do anything. It was one of the many things that made him feel like scum. But Schu came to expect it.
But here, just now, Crawford gave him something he'd never received before: consideration. For once in his life, Schuldig actually felt good about himself. He rolled onto his side so he was facing the now sleeping Crawford. Schu rested his head against his chest and fell asleep.
**********************
Crawford slowly opened his eyes and looked around. He turned his head and focused on the clock: 5:37 a.m. He then turned back and focused on the mass of orange hair sticking out from underneath his covers. Crawford smiled. The guy wasn't so bad, he guessed. He doesn't snore, so that's a good thing. He ran his fingers through Schuldig's hair. What did he see in him? What was so attractive about him? He really didn't know. After a while, Crawford fell back asleep.
Schuldig came out of his unconscious slumber; greeted by the usual onslaught of thoughts. He thought for a moment, then remembering that he had slept in Crawford's bed. He slept with someone. Schu had never literally slept with anyone. He usually was the first to leave. Sleeping together was not part of his former job description.
He felt Crawford next to him who was still asleep. It was comforting. He wasn't here because he was being paid to be, or because he got drunk last night; he was there because the man there with him wanted to sleep with him. It was a new feeling. He couldn't describe it.
Schuldig turned and looked at Crawford's face. Expressionless as ever. He ran his fore finger across Crawford's lips. He was so different; like none other. Schu rested his head on Crawford's shoulder. "Crawford," he said aloud to himself, "I think I'm in love with you." He closed his eyes and let sleep take over again.