Wahah! We didn't abandon it! ::sweatdrops::
Warnings for uhm... lemon/lime. It's not really explicit enough to be a full lemon, but it's more than lime. Okay, never mind. Warnings for sex, damn it.
Chapter Three
Schuldig was annoyed. Sure, Brad was a cold-hearted prick even under the best circumstances, but lately his crankiness had risen to new heights. Schuldig was ready to hit him, except that was always a bad idea. Nagi had taken to hiding constantly in his room.
"So," Schuldig said, getting his morning coffee. "Question of the day."
"Hm?" Brad asked, not looking up. As usual, he was reading the newspaper.
Schuldig plopped into his seat with a piece of toast and his mug. This would pass for breakfast. "Why're you so cranky?"
"Who said I'm cranky?"
"I did," Schuldig said, as if this should be obvious. "And Nagi is thinking it in his own quiet way."
"I wasn't aware I had been acting that much differently." Brad turned a page in the newspaper, apparently not giving this conversation much attention.
"It's just small things." Schuldig didn't want to point out that after living with someone for five years, you tended to notice even tiny shifts in mood. "Why so tense?"
Brad shrugged. "New things to worry about, that's all."
"Like what?" Schuldig asked, peeling the crust off his toast and nibbling it.
Brad finally looked up, peering at Schuldig over the rim of his glasses. "It's none of your concern."
Schuldig snorted. "Hardly. If it's worrying you, and you haven't seen a way around it, that means it's going to bite us all. So give."
"You'll find out in a few days anyway," Brad said, his voice strained from the effort of keeping his patience.
"I'd prefer to know now," Schuldig said, sipping his coffee.
"I'm sure you would."
"Fine, be an asshole." Schuldig sneered at him and set about studiously ignoring him for the rest of breakfast.
Brad didn't speak again for a full five minutes, before he finished his coffee and put the newspaper aside. "I'm concerned about the status of our new team member," he finally said.
Schuldig pondered this for a minute before replying. "Why? I mean, we're a good team, despite recent events. One would think they'd send someone compatible with us."
"You'd think that, wouldn't you," Brad said dryly.
"So what's wrong with the new guy?" Schuldig asked, then paused. "Or girl. Mustn't be sexist."
"Man. And as to what's wrong with him, he's even crazier than you." Brad didn't say this in an offensive tone; he was merely stating a fact.
Schuldig considered. "Well, that just can't be good."
"No. I don't suspect it will be."
"And we get no choice in the matter, I take it?"
"No."
Schuldig decided to lighten the mood, and maybe even put things in perspective. "Well, if you could deal with me when you first picked me up, I'm sure you can deal with him."
"I'm sure that I can," Brad said. "The question is whether or not that applies to you and Nagi as well."
"Ah." Schuldig gave this due thought. "Well, we'll just have to do the best we can. There's no point in making your hair go gray by worrying about it until it gets here."
Brad raised an eyebrow at him. "I always worry about things before they get here. It's the curse of being a precognitive."
"I suppose," Schuldig said, finishing off his coffee. "But still."
"He'll be here in two days," Brad said. "It's not worth not worrying about, at this point."
Schuldig pushed his plate aside and rested his head on folded arms, having come up with a new question. "Why were you allowed to pick Nagi and I by your own choice but you're having this guy forced on you?"
"I'm sure Esstet has their reasons."
"You don't know what they are and that bugs you, doesn't it," Schuldig said, figuring he may as well check and make sure he was right.
"Among other things, such as his impending arrival, yes."
"Anything I should warn Nagi of before he gets here?"
"Nothing that I imagine would really help."
"Okay. Want more coffee?"
"No." Brad marvelled at Schuldig's ability to move on with such ease, as if this didn't bother him at all. "Thank you."
^^^^
Omi stared at Aya. And blinked. And stared again. Yohji and Ken were sitting at the table with identical expressions of shock.
Had Aya just . . . laughed?
Maybe not, but there was definitely a smile there. Now it was gone, and he was giving them a guarded look. "What?"
Yohji reached over and poked him in the arm. "Who are you and what have you done with Aya?"
Aya swatted at his hand. "I haven't done anything with -- I'm still Aya. Stop poking at me unless you want to lose that finger."
"You smiled," Yohji stated. "You can't be Aya. Aya never smiles."
"Yes, I do."
"Never in our presence," Ken chipped in.
"Really?" Aya asked.
"Yes, really."
"Oh," Aya said. "Well, I'm still Aya, damn it."
"Aya never swears, either!" Yohji said immediately.
Aya sputtered for a minute, then gave Yohji a considering look. The playboy was grinning innocently at him. "Now you're just lying."
"There, see, now you look like Aya," Yohji said, picking up his tea.
Aya just looked at them. "Why do I put up with you people?"
"That's a good question, actually," Yohji said, leaning back in his chair. He nearly put his feet up on the table, then caught Omi's glare and hurriedly put them back on the ground. "You've done what you set out to do. Is our company really that charming?"
"Okay, who's been snooping?" Aya asked, eyes narrowed.
"We didn't need to snoop!" Yohji said, ignoring the fact that Omi had, in fact, snooped. "You kill someone totally unrelated to the mission, won't tell us why, then come home and lock yourself in your bedroom for a full day before coming this new, improved Aya. We're not stupid, you know."
"I don't think I'm new or improved," Aya said.
"If only I'd been carrying around a video camera," Yohji said. "Come on, Aya. You never laughed. Hardly ever smiled. Sulked around the clock. Now you come down, set the table without being asked, and laughed when I kidded Omi about surfing the 'Net for porn, even though I make that joke five times a day and you must have heard it at least a thousand times by now."
"What do you want me to say?" Aya asked.
"Just answer my question."
"I have to do something with my time. It pays the bills. And you're not that bad."
"Such generosity, Aya," Yohji said, rolling his eyes.
"Not that we don't want you around," Ken spoke up hastily, before Yohji could say something really stupid. "It's just that we're a bit confused. Most people don't do this by choice."
"I need the money," Aya said.
"So get a job!" Yohji said.
"I have no records. I'm dead, just like the rest of you."
"Oh." Yohji blinked. "Yeah, I suppose you are."
Aya thunked his head against the table.
"It's okay, Aya-kun," Omi said, patting him on the shoulder. "You'll get used to him."
^^^^
Schuldig paused the CD he was playing. "What the hell is that God damned noise?" he asked out loud to himself, pressing his hand against his forehead. He was on the verge of going out to see when he heard Brad's voice calling his and Nagi's names from the living room.
He left his room to see Nagi creeping nervously down the hallway. They went out into the living room to see Brad standing with a white-haired man in a straight jacket. He was standing perfectly straight, staring at the hallway where they were with a strange golden eye.
"Schuldig, Nagi, this is our fourth teammate. Farferello."
Schuldig peered at the both of them. "Are you sure that's a person? 'Cause there's no one home. Just a broken record."
Brad coughed slightly. "He is a person, and he is our teammate, and you will treat him with the proper amount of respect."
"Yeah, when he's at home, I'll remember that. Because trust me, he's not paying attention."
"It wouldn't surprise me in the slightest," Brad replied. "I did warn you."
Schuldig groaned. "God, this is going to give me a headache."
"What's his power?" Nagi asked softly, edging around Schuldig for a better look.
"He has unusual strength and does not feel pain," Brad said. His voice was neutral; he could have been reading the phone book.
"Oh," Schuldig said.
Nagi blinked slightly. "Those aren't classified powers."
"I know." Still the extremely neutral voice.
"They really are mad at us, aren't they," Schuldig said.
"I'm not sure 'mad' is the word I would use."
"What would you use?" Schuldig asked curiously.
"Disappointed?"
Schuldig blinked. "Oh."
"How do they expect us to become useful again if they're giving us a fourth teammate we can't use?" Nagi asked, showing unusual initiative.
"With a great amount of difficulty, I expect," Brad replied.
"Maybe he's not always this crazy?" Schuldig suggested.
"You would know if any of us would," Brad said.
"You want me to look?"
Brad closed his eyes briefly, then nodded. "Go ahead."
Schuldig proceeded, with the assurance that nothing too terrible would happen to him, or else Brad would have seen it. He reached his mind out to Farferello, flinching away from the noise level inside his head. A few minutes later, he opened his eyes again. "Well, there's someone in there," he said. "He'll probably come out."
"Are you all right?" Brad asked, watching Schuldig press his hands against his temples.
"He's so fucking loud," Schuldig said.
"Think of it as an opportunity to work on your shields."
Schuldig gave him a wide-eyed, horrified stare.
Brad raised an eyebrow at him. "What? Did you expect me to be able to do something about it?"
"Gott." Schuldig sighed. "I'm going to go eat a pound of aspirin and go to bed."
"You do that."
^^^^
It was a few days before Farferello's incessant mental rambling got to Schu. Brad walked into the kitchen to find him sitting at the kitchen table with a pot of coffee, bottle of rum, and a mug. He was systematically pouring half a mug of coffee, dumping some rum in, and drinking it.
Brad appropriated the pot of coffee long enough to pour himself a mug, then sat down and started to read the newspaper.
Schuldig looked up at him fuzzily, caught between the liquor and the lunacy. "You know something is wrong when you're letting me drink at eight in the morning," he said vaguely. There was a pause, then he said, "Why haven't I passed out yet?"
"I figure there's no point in yelling at you for drinking in the morning when you undoubtedly started last night," Brad said dryly, sipping his coffee. He got up to make himself breakfast. "Do you want anything to eat?"
"Crackers?" Schuldig made it sound like an actual question. He wasn't quite sure if he wanted something to eat or not.
"Fine." Brad got a box of crackers out of the cupboard, then set about making himself toast.
"Shoot me?" Schuldig asked, nibbling on a cracker.
"I'm afraid not," Brad said.
Schuldig got sick of the crackers after one and a half. "My head hurts and I really should have passed out by now. He's insidious. Like a disease."
"He should have fallen asleep by now," Brad said.
Schuldig nodded empathically, and kept nodding as he spoke. "He did. Sleepy sleepy, and his dreams circle in his thoughts, which are kinda like sharks." His eyes widened slightly, and he visibly tried to settle himself.
"Pull yourself together," Brad said sharply.
"Right, right," Schuldig said. "Two wrongs don't make a right or a left." He squeezed his eyes shut, breathing slowly. "Sorry about that," he said after a moment.
"Hm," Brad said. His toast popped up and he started buttering it. "I should get you a Discman," he mentioned.
"You will?" Schuldig asked, draining his coffee and wondering if he had missed an important part of the conversation.
"Yes." Brad sat down with his toast, then took the pot of coffee and finished it to pour himself a second mug.
"Why?" Schuldig asked, looking perplexed.
"So you can play music without deafening the rest of the household," Brad said dryly.
"Oh." Schuldig tried to take a drink from his mug, only to realize that it was empty. He scowled at it, then picked up the bottle of rum and took a drink right from it. "Gah!" he said, spraying it all over the table.
"Something wrong?" Brad asked complacently, eating his toast.
Schuldig peered at the bottle for a moment, then his eyes narrowed and he turned to Brad. "You watered it down," he snarled. "I could have been unconscious hours ago! Not still sitting here listening to that constant fucking noise he's making!"
Brad just gave him an even look. "In general, drinking yourself into oblivion is not a good idea."
Schuldig's head thunked to the table. He had the vague feeling that Brad had probably had some sort of vision of him winding up in the hospital or worse.
"The very fact that there was alcohol in the house should have made you suspicious," Brad pointed out.
"Ow," Schuldig said, continuing to thump his head against the table. "Shut up anyway."
Brad stood up, got another bottle from where it was hidden at the back of the cabinet. He put it on the table in front of Schuldig. "You can have three shots. Then go lie down."
Schuldig stopped the thunking and grabbed the bottle, trying to see how much he could chug before Brad took it away. Brad let him get about four shots out of it before taking it back. "No fun at all," Schuldig said, wilting. He pillowed his head on his arms, having totally forgotten about Brad's advice to go lie down.
"Schuldig," Brad said. "Go to bed. Get some rest. Things will be better once he's settled here."
"Promise?" Schuldig asked, peering at him from underneath a curtain of red hair.
"I'm ninety percent positive," Brad assured him.
"Okay. Sure." Schuldig peeled himself out of the chair and wandered down the hallway. Brad followed close behind him, making sure that he got to his room without falling over and giving himself a concussion. Schuldig kept one hand on the wall to steady himself, then flopped on his bed, not bothering with undressing or, for that matter, with blankets. He merely pulled a pillow over his head and wrapped his arms around it, as if that would help block out the noise.
Brad freed the blankets and pulled them over Schuldig.
"Thank you," Schuldig said, though his voice was very muffled by the pillow.
Brad reached down and put a hand on Schuldig's shoulder, knowing that the physical contact would help dampen out some of Farferello's noise, and that since Schuldig was drunk, he wouldn't remember the small kindness later. Schuldig relaxed underneath his touch and quickly fell asleep.
^^^^
Two more days passed, and Schuldig resorted to one of his older habits: going out to get plastered and get laid. Sex always made his telepathy fuzzy afterwards, at least for a little while. He had preferred drugs, but after Brad had spent all the time getting him through rehab without anyone winding up dead, the precog had threatened some very dire things if he ever found Schuldig taking drugs again.
Schuldig only minded sometimes. Liquor was generally enough to blur his mind. Liquor and sex together could take care of the most obstinate headaches.
He wasn't the only one who thought that way. Yohji had the same habits. Omi sometimes nagged, but they all understood that sometimes their lives were just too much. There were quite a few night clubs in Tokyo, but not that many that allowed the kind of behavior that they both indulged in, in order to get laid.
Schuldig sifted through the crowd on the dance floor, already well on his way to being drunk, drifting from mind to mind. He latched onto Yohji's. The blonde was already mostly drunk, and his surface thoughts were mostly focused on his dancing partner and the pleasure of his situation. Schuldig could feel the undercurrent of violence and blood beneath the thoughts, though, and nearly purred.
Within seconds, he had replaced Yohji's dance partner. Yohji had no problem dancing with the redhead, or, for that matter, plastering himself against him.
They had been dancing for quite a while before Yohji leaned over to yell into Schuldig's ear. "Buy you one?"
Schuldig gave him a smirk that quickly turned into a leer. "Please do."
Yohji took him by the wrist and pulled him through the crowd, eeling between people in a quite attractive manner. He went up to the bar and got them both a drink. It was quiet enough at the bar that they only had to speak loudly to be heard. "So," Yohji said, knocking back his drink. "Where you wanna go?"
Schuldig tossed back his own drink and smirked again. "I'll trust you. I'm fairly new to the area."
Yohji laughed. "Think I'll leave showing you the town to some other time," he said, quite blatantly groping Schuldig's ass.
"So sure of yourself," Schuldig said. "I like that." He leaned forward, pushing his hair out of his face with the obvious intent of getting a kiss.
"Is there any other way to be?" Yohji asked innocently. He hooked his arm around the redhead's waist and pulled him in for a very long, very thorough kiss. Schuldig was happy to kiss back firmly, ruffling through Yohji's surface thoughts and memories. The blonde reeked of violence, and in Schuldig's intoxicated state, he found the feeling nice. Familiar. And somehow, incredibly erotic.
Yohji's hands fisted in Schuldig's shirt and he pushed the younger man up against the bar. Schuldig pulled him forward so their bodies pressed against each other. A small amount of Yohji's self-control managed to assert itself, and he pulled away, gasping for breath. If he had sex on the bar, the guys would never let him live it down if they found out.
"If you fuck anywhere near as good as you kiss," he managed in between gasps, "we're in for a very good time."
Schuldig smirked. His arms were still wrapped around Yohji's waist. "I can fuck at least as good as I kiss. Less talking." He pulled Yohji towards him again.
Yohji tangled his hands in Schuldig's hair and gave him a good long kiss before pulling away. "One more drink before we go?"
"One more," Schuldig agreed, though from the look on his face, it was plain that he was disappointed the sex was being put off. Schuldig had very few social mores, and would have been completely content to screw Yohji right on the bar. They knocked back another drink apiece before Yohji tugged Schuldig out of the bar.
He managed to flag a taxi, and was glad that he had enough experience to know where the closest motel was. He half-pushed Schuldig into it, then climbed in and gave the destination to the driver. "So, I guess I should at least ask your name," he said in an amused voice.
Schuldig shamelessly crawled into Yohji's lap, straddling him and showing no concern for the cab driver. He gave Yohji a light, teasing kiss before answering. "Schuldig."
Yohji realized that he should probably answer, but he couldn't seem to remember his name. He pulled Schuldig in for a more serious kiss, running his hands up the back of his shirt. Schuldig fairly purred, half-drunk on Yohji alone, plus all the liquor.
"And what's your name?" Schuldig asked, coming up for air.
It took Yohji a few seconds of blinking. "Kudou Yohji," he finally said. "But, given the circumstances . . . you can call me Yohji." He winked at Schuldig.
"Mighty kind of you," Schuldig said, and pressed himself more firmly against Yohji's lap.
The blonde only barely managed to hold back a squeak. He gave up on speech and, despite a small amount of pity for the taxi driver, pulled Schuldig in for another kiss. Schuldig kissed back, one hand sliding up the front of Yohji's shirt. Fortunately for both of them (and the driver), they reached their destination a few minutes later.
Yohji paid for the cab, then for the room. He could tell that he was the more sober of the two, and being in Kritiker paid well. He had money to burn, and he wasn't about to try to explain to Schuldig that he needed to help pay. He dragged Schuldig into the room and shut the door, then pressed the redhead up against it.
By the time they reached the bed, both of them were shirtless, and still kissing. Schuldig shoved Yohji into a sitting position, and noticed that he was laughing. "What's so funny?" he asked, his hands still twisted in Yohji's hair.
"I'm just fucking drunk," Yohji said, still laughing. He leaned forward, nuzzling at the button of Schuldig's pants.
Schuldig's eyes slid closed, both in anticipation and in pleasure. "Just think, soon you'll be fucking a drunk," he drawled, and was quite pleased with himself for his little play on words.
"Thank God." Yohji tugged on Schuldig's arms, trying to get him closer but too drunk to direct specifically.
Schuldig sat down in his lap and pushed him over backwards, giving him a hard and demanding kiss. Yohji fought for control over it and they rolled over a few times, both of them fighting to be on top.
Yohji eventually won, pinning Schuldig to the mattress and biting his lower lip just hard enough to draw blood. Schuldig let out a little gasp and wrapped one leg around Yohji's leg to keep him from going anywhere, not that the blonde was considering it.
It had been a long time since Schuldig had had such a dominating partner, and he had nearly forgotten how much he liked it. The edge of violence that Yohji brought with him, both mentally and physically, was intoxicating. He bit lightly at Schuldig's collarbone, licking at each bite mark.
Schuldig figured that he should probably be doing something, but he seemed to have lost all muscle power, so instead he just lay there, his hands fisted lightly in Yohji's hair. A soft moan escaped his lips.
Yohji slowly rid Schuldig of his pants, his teeth and tongue still concentrating on Schuldig's chest. The redhead moaned, running his hands down Yohji's back, his nails digging trails where they went.
"Slow torture isn't fair," Schuldig managed, and was fairly surprised that he still had a grasp on language, as Yohji's hand traced lightly over his hip.
"Well, it's not like you're doing anything," Yohji retorted, biting down harder.
Schuldig gave him an affronted look and tugged on his hair, pulling him in for a fierce kiss and rolling them over. Yohji laughed, but had no protest to this, and rather enjoyed it as Schuldig licked his way down his jaw and neck. Schuldig slid over so he was only lying half on top of him, giving himself room to work at getting Yohji's pants off.
Yohji moaned, pressing himself up into Schuldig's hand. Schuldig just continued licking at Yohji's neck. "You taste like blood," he said, his voice something of a soft moan, implying that this was the most erotic thing in the world.
If Yohji had heard the comment, he might have been freaked out, but he was not particularly paying attention. At the moment, about all he could think about was the fact that he wanted his pants off and out of the way.
Schuldig, who wasn't really thinking anymore, mumbled, "Your wish is my command," before sliding them away.
As soon as they were gone, Yohji flipped them back over again. After quite a few more minutes of kissing, he started fumbling around, wondering where his pants had gone. He needed what was in the pockets. "Where'd my pants wind up?"
Schuldig, who at this point had one leg wrapped around Yohji again, stretched his arms upwards. "Who cares?"
"Me," Yohji said, though he was having a hard time believing it, and was mostly staring at Schuldig. The redhead pulled him down for another kiss, not wanting to lose physical contact. Yohji obliged, but pulled away fairly quickly. "Just gimme a sec," he said, when Schuldig snarled. He managed to find a condom and the lube he'd brought.
"You carry lube in your pocket?" Schuldig asked, sounding amused.
"If I'm going out to a club to find someone to fuck, yes," Yohji replied, as if this should be obvious. He decided that all conversation needed to cease, and he was personally going to be responsible for making it stop.
Given Schuldig's state of mind, it didn't take much.
Afterwards, they both lay in silence, feeling quite boneless and sated. Yohji fumbled for a cigarette and managed to fish one out of his pants pocket. "Got another of those?" Schuldig asked. He was lying on his side, facing Yohji. The blonde managed to get another cigarette lit and handed it over.
"We'll have to do this again sometime," Yohji said. He felt wonderfully relaxed. It was rare that sex, even good sex, had this much of an effect on him.
Schuldig agreed. He felt remarkably fuzzy and blank. He could still hear Yohji's surface thoughts, because he had no shields up, but they sounded like they were coming through miles of water. "Yeah. You're incredible."
Yohji laughed. "Incredible? Never got called that before. But don't sell yourself short," he added, with a wink. He stubbed out the cigarette and decided to go to sleep, draping his arm over Schuldig's waist.
Schuldig didn't want to move or do anything that would destroy the quiet haze. Yohji's mind was quiet, filled mostly with sleepiness and pleasant, after-sex thoughts. Given this, he snuggled closer and prepared to get some sleep, far away from all the thoughts that could bother him.
^^^^
