Cheesy title. Go figure.

BTW: Our first fic. Don't eat us alive.



~blah~ = flashback crap //stuff in here// = telepathic crap, courtesy of Schu

Quoting Lines

~~~

The images hit his mind as an impact, sudden and unexpected as the car that pulls out through a stop sign or speeds through a red light.

~Fiery locks cool between his fingers, pale skin smooth as rose petals. Jade eyes look up at him lovingly. Two sets of young lips crush together in a long-denied kiss. The green orbs that gaze into his own fill with something intangible, and he is astonished by the vision of loveliness that belongs to him--and now, to him alone.~

"I miss this, Bradley."

"Crawford, Schuldig."

~What is this he sees in the eyes of his German? Innocence? No, not innocence, certainly not in the one who calls himself guilty.~

"Crawford."

The resignation showed in the voice, surprising one who never is surprised. No teasing 'Bradley.'

~But it is innocence, it could be nothing else. Perhaps not innocence of what he knows will follow, not purity, but innocence of the feelings that cause the sparks in the older boy's mind and the tightness in his chest whenever the latter catches sight of him half-dressed in the mornings. Of the feelings that cause the sense that the fire-crowned boy would follow his Bradley to the end of time and the edges of the earth. Of that dreaded four-letter word that is so often mistaken for a three- letter word.~

"I miss this, Crawford."

The reply was cold, blunt. "I know. I don't."

A flicker of hurt flashed across eyes far more precious than jade. A whisper of a voice, obviously projected in the hopes that their long- unused, private link is still functional. //Bradley...\\

~Bradley...~

"Whatever happened to us, Brad Crawford?"

Dark eyes scowled in an otherwise emotionless face. "We grew up."

~The striking, dynamic boy curled up on Bradley's lap, resting his head on his shoulder.~

Schuldig strolled over to the couch, seating himself beside the older man.

"Betcha I know what's coming next."

Crawford sighed. The actions, the words had been repeated so many times both knew the other's part by heart. If only either had the balls to admit it an act...

"When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me."

Crawford was startled for the second time. Though he began his scripted line alone, the two had finished in perfect unison.

"I Corinthians 13:11," Schuldig stated softly. His gaze was intent. "Perhaps we were children, Bradley, but our actions were not childish."

~ //I think I love him...\\ ~

"That paragraph, it starts with 'Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease . . . For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when the perfect comes, the imperfect disappears.' 13:8-10."

~Semi-sensitive, he could feel the wave of warm emotions that spilled over the redhead's barriers and into his mind after the younger boy Heard him. Curse his mind for letting such thoughts escape, for letting him feel the same emotions. Love was weak and not to be tolerated, along with kindness and mercy. Bradley could love. Crawford couldn't. Estet needed a Crawford, not a Bradley.~

"I know Bradley's still in there somewhere."

"Bradley is dead. There is only Crawford now." Crawford inwardly wondered where the prepared lines had gone.

"There is a Bradley still. My Bradley." Schuldig idly tucked his head under Crawford's chin. "Who didn't know everything about that night." He moved his head so that it bumped his ex-lover's slightly. "You fell asleep first."

~The redhead's voice, on the verge of sleep. //I love you.\\~

"Can a Crawford be loved, Bradley?"

No answer.

"I don't think he can. But you *are*, Bradley." //I still love you.\\

~ //I think I love him...\\ ~

"Love is patient, mein Lieber." He stands to go, but a strong hand grips his wrist.

"Wait." It is not a request. //I love you too.\\

~~owari~~ Ugh. That sucked. *cringes at sugar-sap-cheese-and-corn overload* Why can't I write any nice soul-eating breath-tightening therapeutic ANGST lately?



~Rhyn & Angel, 5/17/03