'ItCoS 11: Spiral In'
*SPOILERS*
0_'
Omi snuggled closer to his boyfriend, drawn closer to the other's warmth even in sleep. Nagi looked down on him, his face unsmiling, and then slowly detached himself. He slipped silently out of bed, moving Omi gently into his spot so that the boy would still be surrounded by his body heat and smell.
He dressed quickly, donning his plain gray jacket, then left the room. He bypassed the kitchen, then stopped and took a step back. Farferello sat on the counter, his bandages dangling from his wrists, his knife cutting stripes down his forearm. With a thought, Nagi pulled the knife from his hand and put it into his own.
The blonde didn't seem to care. He slid his finger up his arm, covering it with his blood, then put his finger into his mouth. "Taste good?" Nagi asked quietly.
The Irishman did look up then, his eye scanning Nagi's face before he returned to his scrutiny of his bloody arm. "Where is your kitty?" Farferello asked. Nagi smirked slightly at the label.
"Sleeping unawares," came his amused response. Nagi leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, his amusement draining away. "The others?"
"Not yet. Schuldig said 'maybe tomorrow'." He tilted his head, brought his arm to his mouth, and licked away some of the blood that was threatening to drip from his hand. "He likes the quiet."
Nagi looked at him, then nodded thoughtfully. "It's nice like this, but Crawford…"
"He likes it, too," Farferello said softly. Nagi's gaze sharpened. The Irishman must have felt the intensity of his gaze, because he looked up as well, and their gazes met. "My kitty won't play with me."
"You scare it," Nagi said quietly. "You can't just pet it nice and expect it to curl up in your lap. And Farferello? Talk to him. Tell him what it is that you want. How can he do what you want when he doesn't know what that is?"
0_~
Youji gave a satisfied sigh and stretched. His right arm went into the air, his fingers reaching for some far-off point, and his left leg and foot moved underneath the driver's seat. After a moment, he relaxed his position, tucking his appendages in close again.
A chuckle sounded beside him, sounding equal parts amused and smug. Youji glanced sideways, but Schuldig was little more than a shadow in the other corner of the backseat. He reached down and searched the floor, until he found his pants, or what felt like them, and then he felt around some more until he found his cigarettes and his lighter.
The cigarette flared to life, and he dropped the remnants of the pack and the lighter back to the floor, then turned until he was leaning against side of the car and his feet were in the German's lap. He heard the redhead make a noise of surprise, and he smirked.
"Happy with yourself?" Youji asked. His answer was the cigarette being pulled from his fingers.
He expected to see the flare of the end of the cigarette, indicating that it was being drawn on, but instead he watched as the tip was crushed against Schuldig's boot-heel. "Very."
"Bastard," Youji murmured. Schuldig shifted, and he was no longer laying partially on the redhead. The German covered his body, pressing against the length of him.
"A very talented bastard," agreed the telepath. "Admit it. You like it."
"Maybe," Youji agreed, pressing into the body over his, his lips seeking and finding Schuldig's in the dark. "Now that the bars are all closed and the sun's due up in a few hours, how about you take me to a bed?"
"I thought you'd never ask."
0_o
Brad closed the door softly behind him, then walked bare-footed into his living room. He looked around, then moved across the carpeted floor until he reached the sliding doors that lead to his balcony. He looked out through the glass, his eyes studying the glow that covered the city like a blanket. It was a quiet night, almost peaceful.
He smirked ruefully to himself, his gaze sliding to the reflection of his bedroom door in the glass. Behind that wooden barrier lay a lethal, deadly force that could, and would at the right provocation, attack him at any moment. If given the right amount of surprise, it was possible that Ran could even be his death.
It was an intoxicating thought. There really wasn't too much danger of the redhead and his friends getting out of control, but they had managed to surprise the members of Schwartz more than once. Schuldig said he didn't see anything to worry about in their thoughts, but then again, the German was rather distracted ('And his power muted,' Brad added darkly to himself) when he was around a certain blond that it was possible that they may have missed something important.
There was always a possibility that things wouldn't happen as he'd seen them, but until the time came, he would let the threads of fate unwind, as he had let them before. Fate had yet to let him down.
*_*
Ken woke up with a headache. He climbed out of bed and made his way slowly to his closet, where he drew out a set of clean clothes. He put his pants on in his room, barely opening his eyes; even the thin rays through the window hurt. The shirt he left on the bed until later. The apartment was warmer than normal, and it was making him feel nauseated on top of his headache.
He made his way to the kitchen, and was actually surprised to find it empty. He shrugged, both physically and mentally, and went to the fridge. A glass of orange juice and an energy breakfast bar later, he felt a little more normal, but his head was still pounding. He rinsed his glass in the sink, and then made his way to the bathroom. There were several bottles of painkillers in the medicine cabinet, and he dumped out three pills of medium strength in to his palm. He leaned over to cup water from the sink in his palm, and used that to wash it down. When he stood up, he jumped.
His reflection in the mirror had been joined by a shirtless Farferello. The Irishman was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, his eye fixed on Ken's face in the mirror. His mouth full of water and pills, Ken swallowed with difficulty, then choked as something went down wrong. He braced himself on the sink and coughed. He ended up spitting all three pills into the sink and making his headache worse.
A body pressed against his from behind and two arms reached out on either side of him. One hand held a cup of water, the other two white pills that Ken recognized as aspirin. He straightened slowly, and accepted the offerings, the same as he accepted the arms that wrapped around his waist. This time, everything went down smoothly, even with the added warmth wrapped around him, making him very aware of the other's body pressed against him.
Ken sighed and closed his eyes, tilting his head back. That had the result of putting his head near the crook of Farferello's neck.
"What do you want from me?" he asked tiredly. 'Hurt God, hurt God…go hurt someone else, please?' he screamed internally. The Irishman tilted his head down, pressing his cheek against Ken's and pressing his lips tenderly to the brunette's shoulder.
"I want you," he whispered. Ken waited for the inevitable 'to help me hurt God', but it didn't come. Instead, the blonde tightened his arms and pressed his whole body closer.
There was silence and stillness for several moments, and then Ken's body convulsed. A moment later, he lurched forward, breaking the hold that Farferello had on him. He didn't run, though. He curled up in a crouch by the shower stall, his arms wrapped around his knees, his head buried against them. "What the hell do you want from me? I don't get it. You want to hurt God, and you want me to help, but I don't know what you expect of me. And then you kiss me, and touch-" he broke off, drawing in a shuddery breath.
"'And likewise also the men, leaving the natural use of the woman, burned in their lust one toward another.'"[1] Farferello quoted, seeming quite lucid. Ken laughed hoarsely, and the sound broke on a sob. He cut it off and squeezed his eyes shut before any tears could fall. He would not show himself that broken. He felt a hand on his head, fingers running tenderly through his hair, and he looked up. "You want me?" the blonde asked, kneeling, his eye fixed firmly on Ken's face.
They stared at each other for several seconds before Ken finally nodded defeatedly and tried to drop his head back down. The Irishman put his hand under his chin, not gripping it so much as holding it up so that Ken couldn't look down and away from him.
"'Who, knowing the judgement of God, that they which commit such things are worthy of death, not only do the same, but have pleasure in them that do them.'"[2] Then he leaned forward and gently kissed Ken, his lips lightly parted. There was no pressure, or force, just the contact from one mouth to the other. Ken could almost feel a question in the action, a waiting.
'burned in their lust one toward another….commit such things are worthy of death…have pleasure…' It clicked, and everything that he had suspected seemed to solidify into actuality, and before he could over think his own actions, Ken opened his mouth and gently ran his tongue along Farferello's bottom lip, offering his acceptance to what terms he understood.
He waited for the other to take over, but the Irishman stayed still, his mouth partially opened to allow Ken's tongue. Ken drew back, frowning, wondering if he'd gotten it wrong again. Farferello's eye was closed, his breathing deep and even. Ken wondered for a moment if he was asleep, but then his lips moved and he said quietly, "Someone's coming."
Ken blinked, and about that time, the floorboard outside the bathroom squeaked and someone knocked on the door. The brunette stared for a moment into the eyes of the man kneeling in front of him, then stood up carefully, pressing his back against the shower door to keep from knocking down Farferello.
He opened the door and blinked at Omi in surprise. Blue eyes blinked back at him before sliding over his shoulder, and he surmised that Farferello was standing behind him. "Omi?" he said the boy's name questioningly, bringing the teen's attention back to him. "What did you need?"
"Um…I needed to use the bathroom. If you're…done with it?" the boy replied awkwardly, blushing. Between the half-clad states of the men in front of him and the fact that he knew the blonde had been actively chasing his friend and coworker, he was wary of disrupting them.
"We're done in here," Ken said quickly, moving around Omi and heading towards his room. He was stopped by the door, which wouldn't open. He looked at it oddly, then tried to turn the knob again, but it still wouldn't open.
"He understands, but he doesn't. He's remarkably intelligent, but not where people are concerned."
"He spent too long being a victim," Ken said harshly. He sighed, and turned to look at Nagi. He could see Farferello behind the teen, and the closed door to the bathroom beyond him. He searched the Irishman's face, but there was nothing to read there. "Coming?"
With surprising obedience, the blonde took that as his cue and he walked past Nagi and Ken, opened the door to Ken's room, and then disappeared inside, letting the door slide mostly shut behind him.
Nagi held out his hand, his fist closed over the object with in, and Ken reached for it, curious. "He may not mind the pain, but you may not like the blood if you're not prepared for what you're about to do. If you follow through, you'll want that," the teen said, letting Ken take the object. "Now, while you keep him busy, I must go distract a kitten of my own."
@_@
[1] Romans 1:27, King James Version (Bible)
[2] Romans 1:32, King James Version
I know it's a short chapter, but if you've read the signals right, you should know what's coming next.
So…next episode: Schuldig and Youji make it home and to bed, but can they do more than that before they're interrupted? Omi wakes up; what is a Nagi to do? And Ken has to live up to his decision.
Stay tuned for the next episode of: 'ItCoS 12: Spiral Out'
