Warning: some religious content, violence, and spoilers. Also, for the highly/slightly religious, some content that could/should be considered blasphemy and lots and lots of angst/drama/romance.
*_*
Ken woke at dawn the following day. He stayed still in his bed for several seconds before he decided that he was alone. When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the gray shadows of light playing over his ceiling. He blinked, his eyes adjusting quickly, and then he sat up, running a hand through his hair to push his bangs back from his face.
He froze, his fingertips having just come in contact with his forehead, when he saw the figure sitting in the chair at the end of his bed. A golden eye watched him with an unwavering and unblinking gaze.
With a sigh, he sat up a little straighter and moved so that he was sitting near the head of the bed with his pillows offering a little support to his back. He tucked the sheet around his hips, his eyes never leaving the face of the man in front of him. Finally, when the silence in the little room seemed to thick, he asked quietly, "Why?"
If he had expected an answer, he would have been disappointed. Farferello simply continued to stare at him…'or through me', he realized suddenly. He brought his legs underneath him and leaned forward, cautiously approaching the end of the bed. Never once did the Irishman's gaze waver.
He slid off the bed and walked the two feet to the chair in his pajama pants, his chest bared. When he knelt in front of the chair, he realized for the first time that the blonde hadn't been looking so much at him as in his direction, for the gaze didn't follow him. He raised a hand and ever so gently touched his fingertip to the brow above the eye, and then brought his finger down in a slow motion.
At his touch, the eye shut, and that seemed to send a signal to the body finally that the other man was asleep, for his body slumped forward. The momentum sent then both sprawling to the floor, Ken pinned under the other man's body.
For the second day in a row, he was trapped while Farferello slept.
0_o
Ran sat at the end of his bed, his back to the man lying indolently across the other side. He rubbed his temple, feeling the beginning of a headache. He stiffened slightly as a nail scratched lightly down his spine, and then he relaxed into the touch. His head turned and his eyes met those of his lover.
Brad's smile was lazy and smug, his eyes satisfied and his body sated. For the morning, at least. He shifted so that he could press his lips against Ran's back, eliciting a shiver in response. "We should get up soon," Brad said, the first to speak. Ran nodded and moved to stand up, but the American gripped the sheets that were still wrapped around the slender man, and he used them to topple the redhead back into bed.
"I take it you didn't mean now," Ran said, considering, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.
"Not now," Brad agreed, pulling the other man beneath him with a smirk. "And I said -should-. Not -will-."
0_0
Omi sighed happily and relaxed into Nagi's embrace. The younger boy hugged him tighter and nuzzled his neck, making the older giggle. "Stop tickling, Nagi," Omi reprimanded laughingly. In response, he felt a tickling feeling on his feet and sides simultaneously, and he squirmed until he was facing Nagi.
They kissed, and the tickling stopped as Nagi concentrated on the feeling of Omi over him, his hands already skimming up the other boy's sides. When they broke apart, Nagi brought his hand up and cupped Omi's face. "I love you."
"Hm…love you, too."
0_~
'Why me?' Youji asked himself. He was alone in his room, a cigarette clamped between his lips as he watched the sunrise as best he could from his window. 'Damn German. Made my life difficult when we're enemies and makes it worse when we're not.'
He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and held it between two fingers of his right hand, watching the end glow and the wisps of smoke twirl out his window. When it was down to the filter, he stubbed it out, flicking the butt into the alleyway below.
'Okay, he can't hear me unless I want him too, right? So…Schwartz!' he tried to direct the thought as best he could. Five minutes passed as he waited, and then snorted at his own foolishness. What was he going to with the German so early in the morning, anyway? He turned from the window.
'Yotan?' the question registered in his mind and he froze, his breath coming short, as he felt -something- in his mind.
'Kami-sama, what do I do now?' he asked himself, feeling the sensation disappear. He turned back to the window and looked out, but still saw nothing. Then something flashed out of the corner to his right and he looked closer to the building on that side. Two buildings down, he saw Schuldig sitting on a fire escape, his gaze fixed on Youji's window. 'Are you coming inside?'
'Is that an invitation?' came the reply. Youji thought he could sense a good deal of skepticism in the question and for good reason, too.
'Yes, I think it is,' he answered. He backed away from the window and waited, but didn't have to wait long. The German latched onto the frame and then slipped into the room, looking at the screen less window with interest. Then his gaze came to rest on Youji.
*_*
The second time Ken woke up, he had a crick in his neck and a hand in his pants. He would claim the crick, but the hand did -not- belong to him.
He pushed away from the body behind him, effectively dislodging the hand that was cupping his hip. He ignored the warmth that spread from the feel of flesh on flesh and instead concentrated on getting off the bed without falling on his face because his legs were tangled in the sheets.
He heard a chuckle when he finally managed to stand, and he turned around to see Farferello propped on his elbow, watching him with a smile. "You are very interesting when you're trying to run from me."
"I'm so glad that you find chasing me amusing," Ken replied sarcastically, feeling his cheeks burn.
"I find you more amazing than amusing," the blonde said, turning to the other side of the bed to rise to his feet across the mattress from Ken. He wasn't looking at Ken, but that little reply had Ken's attention fixed solely on him. Speaking in a tone that seemed more introspective than flattering, the man continued. "You have a certain beauty to the way you move. Especially when you fight."
He looked up and he scanned Ken's face as he walked around the bed with a fluid, feline grace.
"You're very enthralling to watch." He approached Ken with the same steady stride, and it took Ken a moment to register his nearness, and by then the other man had moved away. "Your passion is enticing and I ache to see more of it."
With that, he opened the door and slipped into the silent hallway, leaving Ken to stare after him, amazed at the words and the reaction they had on his body. He whimpered quietly and sat back on his bed, pulling a pillow from the head of the bed and setting it in his lap, trying to hide his erection.
It was useless, because even out of sight, -he- knew what the other man had just managed to do.
~~~~~_____~~~~~
Ken was sure that the stress was going to kill him. He kept jumping whenever anyone called his name, though he hadn't seen Farferello since that morning. He noticed that the other three seemed to be present once again, since Ran had finally deemed his coworkers worthy of his company once again. Aya-chan had mentioned the day before that he wasn't 'feeling well'. Ken wanted to laugh at the thought of Ran calling in sick to spend the day with Crawford.
His amusement was short-lived, however, when he saw the way the American seemed to be around Ran constantly without being in his way, and the smooth way he talked with Aya-chan, as if it was nothing for him to be sleeping with the redhead, or courting him, or whatever he was doing.
'I don't care, either', Ken tried to tell himself, feeling more frustrated by the minute. Nagi and Omi were being cuddly and cute, and it was enough to make him gag, a reaction that would have surprised him if his nerves weren't so stretched.
Then there was Youji and Schuldig, who weren't helping his anxiety any. They seemed to have reached some sort of understanding, for they were working together, most of the time in perfect harmony without word that any of the others could hear.
He was about ready to growl that he was going for lunch when a he heard the sound of glass shattering. He turned, as did the others, to see Brad clenching the broken fragments of a vase in his hands, his eyes hard and his face the implacable mask that Ken had come to expect.
As one, three corners of Schwartz came together and then left, leaving no explanation in their wake. As they walked past the big window in front, Ken saw Schuldig turn to look at -him-, and felt something in the pit of his stomach. Without giving himself a chance to think twice, he whipped his apron over his head and ran upstairs to his room.
When he ran by a moment later with his claws in hand, the other three weren't far behind.
0_` *_*
The policy of the Church is what could be classified as 'open door'. Their doors were open to all visitors who may come in to worship or seek comfort or reaffirmation of faith. That policy, however, did not exactly extend to allowing a one-eyed Irishman to hold a priest at knifepoint while he demanded answers that the young cleric couldn't answer.
Ken followed Crawford, Schuldig, and Nagi into the church, his hands slipping on the still-familiar gloves without his attention. He wasn't in full gear, but the loose shorts and T-shirt he had chosen should suffice if he even -needed- to use his weapon.
Once inside, it took them all a moment to locate Farferello. Schuldig was the first to spot him and move closer, but the Irishman caught sight of them at the same time and told them to stay back in an eerily calm voice. Ken was surprised to see them comply.
He saw Brad nod, almost imperceptibly, and he saw Nagi's hands clench, and he knew that whatever they had planned would probably still get the priest killed. He pushed between them, drawing everyone's attention to him.
"Put the knife down," he ordered, his voice sharp. The Irishman smiled and brought the point of his weapon closer to the priest's throat. Ken swallowed.
"Have you come to fight me?" Farferello asked conversationally, his eye fixed on Ken. There was a hint of anger in his eyes, and…'pain,' Ken recognized. Still, he could almost feel the other man's control, and he wondered how long it would be before it slipped.
In answer, Ken slipped his gloves from his hands and held them out to the side. Schuldig took them, and he could feel the redhead probing his mind. He blocked as well as he could, having no training. The probing stopped and he felt more than saw the three step backwards, leaving him to face Farferello.
"Ah, so the kitty has been de-clawed. But that does not mean that you can't still hiss and bite, kitty." He smiled, his lips twisting to bare his canines.
Ken took two steps forward, his eyes on the Irishman the entire time. "Come outside with me," he requested softly. "Let him go and come outside with me."
"Ah-uh." The blonde shook his head. "You're supposed to offer me something in return for his life, kitty. What will you give me if I let him go? Would I earn a kiss?"
"No." Ken took a deep, steadying breath. "Just come with me, please." He heard Brad say something to Nagi about being 'ready', and he knew that his chance at negotiations was coming to a close.
"I think not." There was a cold quality in Farferello's voice as his eye swept over Ken and then back up to his face. "What will you give me for his life and my cooperation?"
Ken closed his eyes, thinking. He could offer a kiss, and that might be enough to lure him out. Or he could offer him his body, since he wanted it so badly, but that…his eyes snapped open and he took another step forward, putting him close enough to drop his voice another notch. "Nothing. I'm asking you for something."
"Oh, but that is not fair, my kitty. Give me a kiss and I will let him go and leave with you." There was a gleam in his eyes that flashed for an instant and was gone again. Ken wasn't sure if he'd seen it or if it hand been a figment of his imagination.
"No." Ken shook his head. "No deal."
"Why?" the Irishman asked, his head tilting to the side.
"No." Ken shook his head forcibly. "No reasons, no more talking. If you want anything from me, you have to give me your trust first," he said firmly, holding his hand out. There was a long hesitation as everyone seemed to hold their breath and it lasted so long that Ken thought he had lost whatever war he had just fought, but then Farferello pushed the priest away and took Ken's hand, his knife disappearing, tucked back into where ever it went.
"Now move!" Brad ordered, and Ken knew that it was directed at him, but he ignored it anyway. He pulled Farferello closer, unconsciously shielding him with his body.
Farferello stared down at him, his hand clenched around Ken's. "I could kill you."
"Yes, you could," Ken agreed, his eyes meeting one golden orb.
"But I won't," the Irishman continued, his voice lowering. "And do you know why?" Ken shook his head, his breath catching in his throat as Farferello drew closer. His eyelids slid half closed and he swallowed hard. "Because I will not make you a martyr." Ken's eyes snapped open. "I'd rather make you a sinner."
Then Farferello's lips were on his, and his brain shut down completely.
@_@
Hm…interesting. That was a pain to write. I think I like it though. Not that I get paid to think…Massive spoilers coming in the next few chapters, while I wind this little ficlet down.
Nagi and Omi come out of the closet! Brad and Ran are faced with an unharsh reality. Schuldig and Youji compare sizes, and Ken shows how smart he really is.
Next time, on 'In the Company of Strangeness': 'Farferello vs. God'
