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About a fortnight past in this fashion, and not a day went by when Yohji didn't entertain thoughts of suicide. The space was too small for two grown men, and Yohji only now began to appreciate what Hiroko went through with a child in this settings. Schuldig talked in his sleep, channelling the building's other occupants. While it would have been indispensable to a gossipmonger, Yohji just wished Schuldig would shut up. Awake, he was even worse. If he wasn't reading Yohji's mind he was saying what was on his own, and sometimes Yohji just wanted to scream and scream at him to shut up and leave him alone.
"I can't. I don't trust you yet," Schuldig said softly. Yohji's head snapped up.
"I told you not to do that," he snarled, rudely brought out of his solitary reflection.
"Can't help it, you know that," Schuldig said bitterly. "Jesus, do you think I want to listen to your morbidity all day and night? If you're so keen on dying why don't you fucking do it?"
"You won't let me, remember?" Yohji wrapped his arms around his knees, glowering over them at Schuldig, who was perched on the other end of the futon, trying to darn socks. A German telepathic assassin in his early twenties, who'd tried to end the world, was darning Yohji's socks at one end of the room, while the Japanese ex-PI who'd been sent to a mental asylum for strangling women while he was a secret Government assassin glowered at him from the other, and both were barely half a metre apart. It seemed so odd, so strange a scene that Yohji couldn't prevent a snicker from finding it's way out. Of course, once Yohji started Schuldig began to chuckle as well. This made Yohji laugh out loud, which lead to Schuldig guffawing wildly…
They fought frequently, but the fights usually ended like this. Something about the incredibly unlikely circumstances that had resulted in their current ones would always set them off, and they'd let whatever petty matter had started the bickering drop.
"It's like the odd couple," Schuldig had commented at one point. "Two bachelors, who by all rights should hate each other-"
"-and do, most of the time," Yohji had added.
Schuldig had nodded his acknowledgement. "-And do, most of the time, living together in a room not big enough for one. How are we both still living?"
Yohji was drawn out of his reverie by a loud German curse from Schuldig. Yohji knew most of them by now, but Schuldig could be alarmingly creative, and tended to switch between languages. Schuldig had his finger in his mouth and there was blood on Yohji's sock. Yohji sighed; reaching forwards to pick up the offending article and fished out the needle.
"You've done a good job," Yohji admitted. "Where did you learn to sew like that?"
"Places like this," Schuldig said enigmatically. Yohji let it drop.
"I'm hungry," Yohji complained. Schuldig shot him a dark look. "Sorry," Yohji sighed, "but I am. Can't we just nick some more food?" Schuldig glanced at the adjoining wall. There was silence.
'You can't be just a little less subtle?' Schuldig complained mentally. 'We're going to be arrested any day now. Guy thinks he's the fucking Sherlock Holmes of groceries.' An interesting little side effect of their time together was the return of Schuldig's grasp on his powers. He still couldn't control what he heard, but he had got the hang of projecting to a single person again. His headaches were less, and he was relatively certain his thoughts were his own. When he found himself wondering if he was the only person in the room, the building, or the entire planet, Yohji would brush up against him, whether on purpose or by accident, and Schuldig would remember that he wasn't entirely alone.
'I'm sorry,' Yohji groaned. 'Come on, we didn't eat at all yesterday. The loan sharks are going to figure out I'm here any day now, and I've nothing left. Not even the tuna.'
Schuldig snickered. 'Your watch is nothing?' Yohji shot him a look that would skin a cow. 'Look, we'll have to find somewhere larger and further away to hit. They've noticed us.'
'We aren't exactly inconspicuous,' Yohji moaned. 'God, I hate this. You couldn't just let me die, could you? Selfish Nazi bastard.'
Schuldig slapped him, hard. "I am not. A. Fucking. Nazi." he bellowed. "What is it with people and 'all Germans are Nazis?' Hitler was a fucking Austrian!"
"Okay, okay," Yohji put his hands up. "I'm just stressed, okay? I'm tired of all this."
"I know," Schuldig sighed. "We both are. What are we going to do about it?"
Yohji shrugged. "I still say suicide's a perfectly valid option," he commented.
"See, that's why I can't leave you alone," Schuldig complained. "Can't you just accept that you are not going to commit suicide?"
"I'm depressed. Depressed people think about suicide a lot. I have a lot of things to be depressed about," Yohji said flatly.
Schuldig slid up the bed until he was sitting next to Yohji and wrapped his arms around the Japanese man. This was another side effect of their arrangement, Yohji's coming to term with the physical closeness. Schuldig didn't want to push it, but he thought Yohji might be coming to term with a few other kinds of closeness as well. Yohji settled against him, letting Schuldig enfold him.
"Don't be depressed," Schuldig begged. "It makes me depressed too, and I don't dally about these things. Come on, we'll work out how to make things better. I'm good at making things better…"
"How, by fucking me?" Yohji bit out acidly, pulling away from Schuldig. "Yeah, that'll help. God knows what I'd catch. I know, if we need cash, we can sell our bodies on the street and our souls to the devil!"
"You really think I'm coming on to you, don't you?" Schuldig snapped incredulously. "You think I'd be so crass as to take advantage of your situation for my own benefit?" They locked gazes. "Fine, I would. And I am. I'm taking fucking advantage of you Yohji, because you have nowhere else to go. That was the idea. I'd take you in, your misplaced sense of honour would bind us together, and eventually we'd end up fucking. But you had to ruin that with your little depressive skit, so I spend most of my time bound to you anyway, trying to keep you from hurling yourself to a messy death on the fucking pavement! This was not what I wanted, but it's what I got. And both of us are still here. What does that fucking tell you?" Schuldig's chest was heaving with emotion.
"That you're as stubborn as I am," Yohji said promptly. "I knew you only wanted me around for sex and to keep you sane. I know that that's why you won't let me go. You'll go insane. And the thought of that fucking terrifies you."
"Hell yes! I've been there, Yohji, and I really would rather sell my soul to the devil than go back. It keeps me fucking awake at night, and leaves me incapable of anything during the day, that fear. If you go, I go, but my body won't. You have no idea what that's like, Yohji, to be lost inside your own head. You couldn't even begin to understand what I go through every minute, every second, of every day." Schuldig stood up and turned, then slumped against he opposite wall. If he tucked his legs right into his chest, he could sit there without touching the futon. "There's nowhere to go!" he whined.
"I'm going to take a shower," Yohji declared.
"About bloody time," Schuldig snarled.
Yohji scowled at him. "You know we've got limited water. At least I'm being considerate. What would you do if we ran out, eh? Nothing to drink. That's worse than nothing to eat, and miles worse than nowhere to go."
Yohji fought his way through the arduous task that was undressing in the shower cubicle but leaving his clothes in the main room. He had to balance on one leg, careful not to drop things in the toilet, and hang on to the outside wall for dear life as he struggled with the basics, like underwear. It wasn't the first time he'd done this, but it never got any easier with practice.
As he stood under the trickle of water, aware than he couldn't stay here for more than five minutes, Yohji struggled with his conflicting emotions, aware that Schuldig would know exactly what he was doing. Dammit, there really wasn't enough space. Just half an hour, that was all he asked, half an hour away from this prying telepath and these godawful apartments and somewhere nice. Somewhere warm, and clean, and relatively empty, and most of all, free. Somewhere he could just think.
"I know a place," Schuldig said quietly, "if you're that desperate." He sounded forlorn. Yohji sighed. Surely Schuldig could cope on his own for just half an hour?
"You'd think so, wouldn't you? I mean, I was still here when you got back from work each day, right? Barely. And now I'm used to you as a constant presence."
Yohji shut off the water and sat on the toilet, running his fingers through damp hair. He could see Schuldig's hair through the misted glass. Yohji had the sinking suspicion that it wasn't meant to be misted.
"Just a little privacy, Schuldig," Yohji pleaded. "I'm going nuts here. I mean, come on, wouldn't you like to have just a little private time, alone?"
"You mean to masturbate? I don't mind doing that with you here," Schuldig said.
Yohji's leant forwards and whacked his head on the glass in exasperation. It shattered. Probably not glass, then. Cheap, brittle, recycled plastic.
There was an awkward moment in which the two men regarded each other. Yohji, stark naked, sitting on the toilet. Schuldig, stuffing Yohji's clothes into the gap between the walls. The landlord had covered over the other side, but Schuldig had just stuck some paper over it and was currently employed with hiding Yohji's only outfit where the wall insulation ought to be.
"You are so hot," Schuldig murmured. Yohji sprang forwards and snatched his clothes from Schuldig. He overreached himself and caught his foot on the futon. With an ungainly yelp he landed on top of Schuldig. Schuldig ran his fingers over Yohji's naked skin, racing droplets of water down his back. Yohji was breathing heavily, and not from the fall.
" Please don't," Yohji begged breathily, his voice much higher than normal. "Schuldig, stop it." His arms spasmed, fists clenching uselessly against the dirty sheet.
Sighing like a martyr, Schuldig kept his hands to himself as Yohji pulled himself as far away as the tiny apartment would allow and started pulling his clothes back on. This wasn't to say he kept his eyes to himself, and he absorbed every fluid movement and graceful muscle as Yohji struggled with his trademark tight clothing.
"I'll let you have your half an hour," Schuldig told the other man. "We'll both get out of here, and go to, say, a park. Somewhere nice where people aren't obsessed with death and misery and poverty and such. Somewhere I can keep my head."
"Yeah. That would be good. I really need to just think."
"I know," Schuldig told him. "And I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't think these thought would turn out for my benefit. Just for the record."
Yohji stood up, finally dressed, and gestured for Schuldig to lead the way out of the door, since there wasn't enough room for the two men to pass. "What is it with you and being an emotionless sociopathic bastard?" he asked as they made their way down the corridor. "Why all the posturing?"
"Because that's who I am," Schuldig sighed. "I'm selfish, I'm a bastard, I like pain for it's own sake, I'm a generally bad person. That's why I was one of the bad guys, remember?"
"Nah."
"What?"
"Nah. You're not one of the bad guys. There's no such thing. You've told me enough times we're both 'men of the world' and 'cynical bastards'. There's no good and evil. So why do you go out of your way to make people hate you? I mean," Yohji speeded up so they were walking two abreast down the narrow stairs, "you like me, right? You find me attractive. You want to sleep with me. But rather than try and get on my good side, rather than being nice and a good guy, you go out of your way not only to demonstrate but to declare how terrible you are. Why insist that you only took me in in the hope we'd start fucking? Why tell me everything you do is entirely self-motivated? Why go out of your way to put me off?"
"Because that's who I am," Schuldig repeated. "I don't want you full of fairy tale ideas of who I am. Almost everything I do I do out of selfishness. I want you for your body and your mind. I need you. I don't want you to end up with some fantasy picture of me in your head that I can't live up to. I'm not going to sleep with someone who's lying to himself."
"You don't lie, do you?" Yohji asked with curiosity. "You tell me these things because they are true. But you're answering questions I haven't asked. You could just not say anything about your motive-"
"You're not listening!" Schuldig snapped. "You're doing it already. You're trying to make me into something I'm not. I'm a bad person, Yohji. I don't want you to think any other way about me. I don't want to have to pretend to be this imaginary Schuldig. I told you, I'm not going to let you lie to yourself. If I did, I might as well be lying to you, and if I lie to you I might as well use my power to control you, and if I do that you're not Yohji and there's no fun in it!"
"This is fun?"
"Argh!" Schuldig slammed a fist into a wall. "You're right. We need to spend some time apart. How about opposite sides of the world for the rest of eternity?"
"Where will you find someone like me though? So hot, so sexy," Yohji leered at him. "Someone in the same situation, someone who understands. Isn't that what everyone wants, someone who understands them? And if that person happens to be as drop dead gorgeous as Mr Yohji Kudoh, the man all the ladies faint for, well, they're just the luckiest person on earth, aren't they?"
"Stop it, you fucking prick tease," Schuldig growled, but it was more playful than angry this time. "Mr Yohji Kudoh indeed." Yohji laughed, despite not getting the joke. The prospect of some free time without his orange haired self-assigned protector was making him giddy and light-headed.
They walked down the street together, joking and teasing. There was a darker element to their banter though, a current which swept them towards a small park overshadowed by huge buildings. In amongst the shadowy foliage they would separate, and, quite possibly, never meet again. Both were quite capable of cutting their losses and leaving now. They had nothing to lose.
Schuldig leant on the ornate gates. "Come and find me when you're done being alone," he said shortly. Yohji stared at him.
"You don't expect me to come back," he wondered aloud. "Where else am I going to go?"
Schuldig shrugged. "Why would you come back?"
Yohji didn't reply. There was a second as they stared at each other, then Yohji turned and walked into the trees.
After about ten minutes wandering he found a small grove of trees. It was almost cold in the deep shadows, but if he lay back and stared upwards he could see the sky without seeing the buildings. He could be anywhere.
Schuldig. Schuldig.
"He's attractive, I suppose," Yohji began aloud. "I'm not attracted to me-" He closed his eyes, frowning. "Fine," he muttered. "I am attracted to him."
There. He'd said it. He could admit that he found Schuldig attractive. It was wrong and twisted and sick to fall for a guy who had tried to kill you.
"Fall for?" Yohji's eyes snapped open. "In what sense: 'fall'?" his voice had a deeply suspicious tone, and he found himself falling into an old familiar pattern left from his PI days, questioning himself as he would a witness. He realised he missed those days. He'd been happy. Somewhat.
"No lies here. Everything must come out. I am physically attracted to Schuldig?
"Yes. I find him very attractive. It's disconcerting; I've never liked a man like that before.
"Never?
"Well, Ken wasn't bad looking, in his own way, and Aya was exotic, but it was never like this. I suppose Ken would be the closest. But this is different.
"How so?
"We've got so much in common. I mean, I know he's a mind reader, but we're on the same level. Like, we're both very cynical. We've both done and seen a lot. We both accept that.
"How long have I felt like this?
"I don't know. I don't think… I don't think I did back in Weiss. No, I found him attractive then. I'd justify the fact I couldn't stop thinking about him, blame any dreams on the stress he put me under, or directly on him. But this is qualitatively different. There's no barrier any more.
"Am I certain he has nothing to do with this?
"It wouldn't make sense for him to make me think one thing while trying to persuade me otherwise out loud. I mean, he hasn't exactly gone out of his way to seduce me, has he? I suppose, back in Weiss, he could have planted the idea…
"Why haven't I acted on any of these feelings?
"Well, partly, I needed to get them clear to myself. It's hard to think when I know he's listening. And, well, I didn't want to admit to them. It's disconcerting. I like women, dammit.
"Have I always? Was there ever a time, before now, before Weiss, before Asuka, that I felt like this?"
"Yes."
Yohji stared at the sky, his heart racing. He'd admitted it out loud. He'd had a crush on a guy, back at school. A guy with long brown hair and laughing eyes and a smile that made Yohji's stomach turn to water.
"I… I told him how I felt," Yohji said haltingly. "He told me I was sick. I am sick."
"You do look a bit ill," a voice observed, making Yohji sit up sharply, fast enough to get head rush. "Anything I can do to help?"
Yohji's eyes bugged out. Leaning against a tree was Aya-chan. She had no idea who he was, but memories threatened to overwhelm him. Oh god…
"Now you look terrible," she commented. "When was the last time you ate?"
"A while back," Yohji admitted. "Money's tight."
"As long as you're not anorexic," she said lightly. She chewed on the end of one of her braid, studying him. "Look, I'm sorry, but I overheard most of your monologue. I couldn't help it. You're not sick. You shouldn't beat yourself up just because one person said you were."
Yohji crossed his legs, head still spinning. It was so… surreal. Last time he'd seen this girl she was in a coma, now she was holding a conversation with him.
"Does this Schuldig guy know how you feel?" Aya-chan asked softly, sitting down opposite him.
"How much did you hear?" Yohji finally asked suspiciously. He was running through his interrogation in his mind and he realised that he'd mentioned Aya more recently than he had Schuldig's name.
"Oh, most of it," Aya-chan said breezily.
"Well, no he doesn't. I don't think. That's not important," Yohji said brusquely.
"Sure it is. Was he the one who told you that you were sick?"
"No. That was a long time ago. I was younger than you. No, Schuldig wouldn't think that. He finds me attractive. He keeps trying to get me to sleep with him." Yohji couldn't take his eyes off of her. Perhaps… perhaps she wouldn't realise he'd been talking about her brother, or perhaps she hadn't heard it. Besides, Aya wasn't an uncommon name. For a girl.
"So, why can't you tell him? Are you scared of what he'd do?" She looked at him steadily. "It's okay to be scared, just don't throw away a good thing because you can't come out and say it's a good thing."
"Shut up," Yohji sighed. "You don't have the faintest idea what this is like for me."
"Yes, I do." Aya-chan gave him a sad smile. "I work in a flower shop. This girl I work with, Sakura, she's just gone to France. I had spent most of the year trying to work up the courage to tell her how I felt, and now I have she's not there to tell."
"Sakura?" Yohji asked incredulously, somewhat stunned. He realised, too late, that there was no reason he should know Sakura. Fortunately, Aya-chan mistook his surprise.
"Yes, Sakura. A girl," she said shortly.
Yohji blushed. "Sorry, I guess. I suppose you do have kind of a right to lecture me. Fine, so suppose I tell Schuldig. It won't work out anyway, we're too different."
"You were just talking about how similar you are!" Aya-chan scolded. "No excuses."
"Yeah, but that doesn't mean it'll work out. I used to fight with this guy. Loads. Mortal enemies."
"So? Yohji, let that go. You like this guy. A lot. It's daunting, but it's not a big deal. It's no different to any woman, and you strike me as the sort of guy who'd be good with women. Maybe it'll work, maybe it won't. Don't you want to know?" Aya-chan leant forwards and clasped his hands between his own. "Trust me, it's better to know than be left wondering. And you know that he feels the same."
"He lusts after me. I… I find him physically attractive. I like him I guess. I mean, he gets on my nerves and he winds me up and we fight continuously and he's a complete bastard, but we're comfortable together. It's not… not love." Yohji couldn't look her in the eye when he said that, and he wondered why.
"I never said it was," she sighed. "You did, Yohji. I'm not insisting you march right up to him and declare you're undying love and make passionate love there and then. I'm not even suggesting it. I just… don't be an idiot, okay?"
Yohji chuckled. "You don't know me," he grinned. "I suffer foot-in-mouth disease."
"You've been hurt before," Aya-chan told him. Yohji didn't like how perceptive she was.
"Yeah. The girl I loved died." It was the short version. The really short version. He didn't think he could explain Neu to a girl he still thought of as Aya's living doll of a sister.
"And that guy rejected you. Are you scared this Schuldig is going to do the same?" Aya-chan smiled prettily at him.
Yohji opened his mouth and closed it again. Would Schuldig reject him? Probably not. "No," he said eventually.
"Don't just say that," Aya-chan scolded. "Don't let your pride stop you from admitting-"
"I'm not. I honestly don't think he'd reject me. He'd hurt me, and he'd laugh, if the mood took him, but rejection is not something I need to worry about. It's just the fact he's a complete bastard. He hurts people for fun. What is wrong with me, that I'm attracted to a guy who screws with people's minds for fun?"
Aya-chan frowned. "Can't answer that. Sorry."
Yohji gave her a sideways look. "You're really good at this comfort and console thing, you know?" he said sardonically. "Anything else encouraging to say?"
"Sure," she smirked. "How about 'get off your lazy arse and quite moping'?"
"Yes, that would be very 'encouraging'," Yohji grinned. "I've been doing far too much moping recently. But my arse is far from lazy; I'll have you know. It's tight and firm, and very nice, I've been told."
Aya-chan laughed. "I'm sure. Look, I've got to go; I've got to get back to work. Maybe I'll see you around." She stood up, stretching slightly. "Bye, Yohji."
"Goodbye, Aya-chan," Yohji waved vaguely. She'd called him Yohji. She'd called him Yohji several times. He'd never said his name was Yohji. He hadn't used his name when talking to himself. Yohji's eyes widened.
A piece of paper slipped from her pocket and settled on the scant grass in front of him. It was a photograph of Weiss.
Yohji stared at it for a second, then shoved it in his pocket and stood up. A few minutes to get his thought make into some kind of coherent order and put up some loose shields to discourage Schuldig, then off to find the German nutter.
Schuldig was leaning on a fence next to a children's playground. There was a conspicuously large distance between him and any of the children or their parents, despite most of the equipment being quite close to Schuldig. The German had his elbows resting on the splintered fence and one foot rested on the bottom slat. His head was bowed and his man of hair kept Yohji from seeing anything of his face.
"Hey," Yohji said softly, uncertain of the response he would get.
Schuldig grunted.
"Whatcha doing?" Yohji nudged him over and joined him in leaning on the fence. "I bet we look like two lecherous old men out to kidnap a child for some pornographic Internet ring."
Schuldig snorted. He turned slightly and Yohji glimpsed one blue eye through the thick orange hair. It made a nice contrast. "You have no idea how accurate you are," he said with bitter humour.
"Why stand here if all you're getting is a negative response?" Yohji asked curiously. "Do you need to be reminded twenty-four seven that you're not a nice guy, in case you forget?" It was a joke, but there was a sting to it. Schuldig glowered at Yohji, but the Japanese man was staring at the kids again.
"The kids are nice," Schuldig informed him. "Simple." They watched one child bite another. "Cruel little bastards," Schuldig conceded, "Vicious, yes, but still simple. Did you have your 'think'?" The bitterness was back, the pain and cynicism and the deliberate cruelty. The words were meant to sting, and they did.
"Yes," Yohji told him.
"And…" Schuldig waved a hand around pointedly.
"And what?" Yohji gave him an overly mannered innocent smile.
Schuldig glowered at him. "Are you coming back?"
"I told you before, I have nowhere else to go. Where the fuck do you want me to be, Schuldig? Is this some hint to get rid of me? 'Stay, stay, I need you, I'll go mad without you, I want to fuck you' actually means 'fuck off, Kudoh'?" Yohji frowned at him. "Bloody hell, I think I've got you figured out, and you go and change on me. It's get bloody frustrating."
"How can you fucking figure me out if you can't figure yourself out?" Schuldig drawled, amused by Yohji's little outburst. "I'm a reflection of you, most of the time."
"You're all fucking 'id', Schuldig, all instincts and drive and no caution or conscience," Yohji told him, but even as he said it he could see not only the advantages of the lifestyle but the similarities to his own. Jealousy, faint and primal and burning, tugged at him, trying to make him acknowledge this.
"-"
"Fuck!"
Schuldig's jaw snapped shut and they turned to stare at the small child, holding a chocolate ice cream and grinning up at them.
"Fuck fuck fuck! Bloody hell fuck!"
Yohji's eyes narrowed. The child fell suddenly silent. Schuldig smiled, a predatory grin that spoke of things that go bump in the night and the monster under the bed, the tiger in the cave and the shark in the sea. Yohji leant forwards over the fence, snakelike in his fluid grace, eyes flickering between amusement and mocking anger, and then he licked his lips. With a wail the kid fled, still yelling it's new word, dropping the cone into the woodchip.
"Was that a boy or girl?" Yohji wondered aloud.
Schuldig shrugged. "All look the same to me. Legs, arms, head, stupid little hat. Generic child. How the parents tell them apart is a mystery." He chuckled.
"I want an ice cream," Yohji stared forlornly at the melting brown goo abandoned on the ground.
"Bit hard to nick, pet," Schuldig smirked. "You wanna try and shoplift from an ice cream van, be my guest."
Yohji sighed. "I hate being poor. No, not poor. Poor is when you can't afford a TV or computer or car or whatever. We're way past that. We flew past broke several exits back. Skint, hard up, poverty stricken, penniless, destitute… Been and done all of them, and we're still on the way down."
"Paupers. Now all we need are some princes to swap places with," Schuldig leant over the fence and stuck his fingers into the melting ice cream, sucking them noisily. Yohji gave him a disgusted look.
"How do we get out of this, Schu?"
"How did we get into it, Yotan?"
The nicknames sent the tension soaring in ways neither expected. Some how, they weren't that comfortable with each other yet. A familiarity too far. Yohji turned so that his back was to the playground and he was leaning on the fence. Schuldig went back to his original posture, head down and back hunched.
Finally, Yohji answered the question. "We kept waiting for someone to bail us out."
"You know, you and I, us, I always thought we were the independent ones. The ones that, without Estet and Kritiker, could survive. Could look after ourselves." Schuldig stared at the melting ice cream. "I mean, we'd done it before, right? We had contacts, we had looks, we had confidence and skills and talents and everything we needed."
"We buggered that up, didn't we?" Yohji dug into his pockets and produced a cigarette, one of the last the pair had. With an emotion bordering on reverence, he lit the cancer stick and inhaled deeply. Schuldig caught a whiff of the smoke and turned around.
"Share," he demanded. Yohji handed the fag to him and he took a long drag before handing it back.
Yohji could taste Schuldig on the cigarette, a warm moistness and indentation where he'd gripped it between his lips. Unbidden, a thought stole into his mind: 'It's almost a kiss.'
Schuldig's body suddenly tightened, but Yohji was too intent of the nicotine rush to notice. "You know what?" Yohji almost purred. "We can. We do have the looks, the skills, the smarts. We can beat the system. We've both been the system."
Schuldig raised one auburn eyebrow. "We've sunk a bit far," he said quietly, but his tone made it clear he wanted Yohji to correct him.
"So, the only way is up," Yohji smiled, flashing incongruously white teeth for a man unable to afford toothpaste. Though, of course, he couldn't afford anything to stain them either. Schuldig was reminded of a time when he'd said the same to Yohji, and been snapped at for his troubles.
"We can't get jobs," Schuldig said hesitantly.
"Come on," Yohji teased, "'guilty'…"
"'Guilty'?" Schuldig frowned. Was Yohji taking the piss out of his name?
"We've been setting our sights far too low," Yohji told him. "Walk with me," he pushed away from the fence, not waiting to see if Schuldig followed. In fact, he didn't. For several seconds he watched Yohji, a gaunt mockery of his former self, but still attractive. His hips swayed and his shoulders were swept back, like he expected the world to stop and watch, just because Kudoh Yohji was walking. The confidence was cat like, and catching.
Two kids were staring at him, a boy just touching his teens and a chubby girl of about eight. Both were holding ice creams, just bought. It didn't take much to persuade them they'd finished the cones and even less to swipe them from unsuspecting hands. Schuldig jogged to catch up with the blond man and handed him a cone. Yohji looked surprised and pleased.
"Thanks," he smiled, "just don't tell me where you got them from."
They made their way to the clearing Yohji had found earlier. Collapsing into the hollow made by some tree roots, the two leant against each other and the trunk and enjoyed the shade. Schuldig's hand took a life of it's own and wandered off, just happening to end up on the other side of Yohji. Much to Schuldig's surprise and delight, Yohji didn't yell or move or make him move, though he did give Schuldig a disapproving frown.
A breeze rippled through the secluded area and goose bumps trickled along Yohji's arms. Schuldig took advantage of having an arm around the other man to offer some warmth. Yohji leant into him and slide long fingers into Schuldig's, their free hands entwining.
"I guess you did a lot of thinking," Schuldig commented apprehensively.
"You have a problem with pushing your luck," Yohji told him. Schuldig stiffened, expecting him to move, but Yohji just shifted position slightly. "Yeah, I did a lot of thinking. I didn't come to any concrete conclusions, but ice cream makes me very mellow towards your advances."
"I'll remember that," Schuldig commented wryly. "Ice cream, check." He wondered if Yohji would like to eat ice cream off of him, if they ever reached a point where that sort of thing would be a viable option. For the first time, it was beginning to look like it might be.
"Did you just sigh?" Yohji asked, playfully suspicious.
"No," Schuldig lied easily. When it was obvious, when they both knew the truth, it felt okay to lie. It was like a joke.
"I felt it. Just tell me this, good or bad sigh?" Yohji glanced back at the other man's pale pace.
"Good," Schuldig admitted. "So, what's this big plan of yours?" He shifted Yohji's weight slightly, since all feeling in his left leg was disappearing.
"We've been thinking too small. Shop lifting, pick pocketing… Just enough to survive and no more."
"I didn't think you wanted any more than that on your conscience," Schuldig said cautiously. "You and the rest of Weiss have this weird thing about laws and being good and shit."
Yohji gave a dry chuckle. "Not me, just them. Just them, Schuldig." The jade eyes were haunted by secrets too long kept and guilt too hard to forget.
"You're a bit young to be this jaded," Schuldig slid his hand inside Yohji's shirt, resting it on the sunken stomach. Once, there had been lean muscles, but they were atrophied or absent.
"Not jaded, cynical," Yohji pulled away to look at Schuldig properly, face to face. They sat opposite each other, nestled in the hollow amongst last year's leaves and next year's buds.
"Nah, we're both jaded. And cynical. And complete bastards when it suit our purposes," Schuldig shrugged it off. "So's the rest of the human race. A handful are in denial, but we're all brutes. Even animals are better than us."
"Rousing reassurance," Yohji smirked. "'You're shit, but so are the rest of us'. I like it."
Schuldig chucked a small stick at him. "It's true," he said. "Just don't feel bad about it. You've done nothing compared to me."
Yohji flinched. "I know," he said quietly. Inwardly, Schuldig winced. He'd blown it. No more mellow Yohji letting him touch and smile. It was better, of course. Yohji had to remember who was the villain here.
"You haven't told me this master plan of yours yet," Schuldig reminded him, keeping the bitterness from his voice. "We have to think big, ja? Play to our talents? What are we going to do? Assassinate the president? The emperor?" Yohji chuckled despite himself. Schuldig smirked and continued, "okay then, we're going to take someone hostage? No? So what, am I thinking too big?" Yohji nodded, eyes sparkling. "Jesus, Yohji, I'm fresh out of ideas. What the fuck are we going to do, rob a bank?"
"I knew you'd get it, eventually."
Schuldig's head snapped up so fast he lost his balance and slid against the worn root into the leaf litter. The last of his ice cream went flying. He lay there, staring up at the chinks of blue, showing between the dark leaves of whatever tree they were under; Schuldig was no botanist. The air moved around his, fresh and damp, smelling of life and death and the promise of both. He breathed deeply before pulling himself back up. He found himself suddenly much closer to Yohji, who also seemed distracted by the green smell of the disturbed leaves.
Schuldig lived on his impulses, and on other people's, but it was Yohji who leant in for the kiss. Jade eyes met blue, an echo of the leaves against the sky, and suddenly rough lips were pressed violently against each other, a quiet desperation shattering under the force of a passionate need. Schuldig grabbed Yohji head and pressed closer, one hand digging into Yohji's hair and the other sliding down his back to drag Yohji's chest and stomach against his. It was rough and fast and over too soon, and they parted gasping, lips bruised and cheeks flushed.
Yohji's hand touched Schuldig's lips, slightly swollen and rough. "You need lip salve," Yohji said dazedly. Schuldig frowned uncomprehendingly, leaning in for another kiss. This one was a little less forceful, though only because Yohji parted his lips almost immediately, letting Schuldig's tongue explore the warm cavity. Yohji wasn't passive, not at all, in this, and he returned the favour. Schuldig's hand slipped further down his back to cup his buttocks, cool against Yohji's feverish skin. Yohji awkwardly put his arm around Schuldig's shoulders, uncertain what to do with another man. He kept his fists clench, arms crossed behind Schuldig, fighting the urge to place his hands on Schuldig's shoulders, on Schuldig's neck. Schuldig didn't notice Yohji's hands twitch.
They broke apart again, breathing a little more normally. Yohji sighed and rested his head on Schuldig's shoulder, breathing in Schuldig's own scent. He smelt of sweat and cigarettes a cheap alcohol, and the leaf litter like living cologne. Yohji kissed the freckled skin, eyes close. He was limp in Schuldig's arms, content to relax against the other man.
Schuldig's roving hand made it's way back up again, hugging Yohji to him gently. They sat like that for almost a minute, warm in each other's arms against a wind that as goring increasingly more biting. Schuldig could feel Yohji's pulse fluttering in his neck, pressed against his collarbone like a trapped butterfly. Slowly, Yohji pulled away. He closed his eyes, gathering himself, and then looked Schuldig in the eye. It brought a touch of a smile to Schuldig's lips. Even if Yohji's eyes held rejection, it was still better than avoiding his gaze.
"I've never done that before," Yohji said conversationally.
"Sure you did. When you were all suicidal?" Schuldig reminded him. He let his hands drop and dug his fingers into the leaves. He was beginning to feel very congenial towards these particular leaves.
"Okay, but I've never initiated it." Yohji sat back as well. "I don't know what to make of it," he said candidly. "I just don't want you to make too much of it."
Schuldig shook his head, smiling. "Maybe you don't know, but I do." Yohji gave him a questioning look. "It's up to you to figure it out," Schuldig told him. "Would ruin it if I told you what you were thinking."
Yohji sighed. "Fine. So, we have a mutual attraction to deal with, on top of everything else. Just for the record, I have no intention of sleeping with you any time soon." Schuldig opened his mouth, eyes mocking, but Yohji interrupted swiftly, "no intention of fucking you any time soon," he corrected himself smoothly. "We'll just have to live with the tension."
Schuldig chuckled. "I can if you can."
Yohji stood up then, brushing himself off. He sighed when he saw the muddy stains on his trousers. He couldn't afford to clean them. The next few weeks would be dependent on keeping Schuldig clean. Yohji would just have to suffer the filth.
"Huh? Why do I have to be clean?" Schuldig ignored Yohji's proffered hand and struggled to his own feet.
"You're the telepath," Yohji said enigmatically. "Come on, we're about to have company. I'll explain more at home, as far as I can. I haven't worked out much yet. Hell, I only came up with the idea ten minutes ago."
"It's really only been ten minutes?" Schuldig said incredulously. Yohji smiled and shook his head; greasy locks slapping against a dirty face, amused eyes hollow and dark against too pale skin. As a young couple made their way into the clearing the two men left, heading back to their flat. At some point during the journey, Schuldig's hand ended up in the small of Yohji's back. By the time they reached the block of flats it was comfortably inside the top of Yohji's trousers, and Yohji was returning the favour.
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