============================================================================================
Author Rant -
What am I doing here? What are YOU doing here?
I hate this fic. HATE this fic.
My god, this looks like something I wrote in elemenatary school. Plot hole, plot hole,
abrupt unfounded transituion, grammer error, spelling mistake. There's not depth,
there's no story line. What's WRONG with this fic??
sobs
Why am I working on this?
I just like to torture myself.
=============================================================================================
Bourbon sparkled like a fine jewel under the moonlite sky. The smell was heavy and clung to the air, a seductive toxin that lured its victims in from afar then struck when the moment was right. It burned the skin and sedated the mouth. Problems became less heavy, weight ignored gravity, and for a moment the world seemed to stop in its quiet, lumber rotation...
"He doesn't deserve me." Schuldig slurred.
Yohji nodded slowly, slowly because his motor skills were slowly packing up and heading south for the winter. He brought the bourbon bottle up to his spread lips and attempted to pour it into his mouth. His aim was off. Good thing he wasn't on the job. "He doesn't deserve ME!"
"I could do better than him." Schuldig fell backwards onto the cobble stone floor and stared at the sky. The stars seemed to dance for him. The silver orbs spinning in circles in an inane little tango. A giggle escaped the telepath.
"I could do SO much better than him." Yohji agreed.
Schuldig's hands reached into the air and he tried to pinch the stars into stillness. "D' you have ANY idea how - how - how many guys I could so be with, if I wasn't with him? I mean," He paused and felt the drink crawl upwards to his throat. Schuldig closed his eyes, "I mean, I'm like, IN DEMAND! People want me."
Yohji couldn't understand why the bourbon was falling onto his shoulder and not into his mouth. "People want you? People want me! I should... I should start handing out tickets! One at a time ladies! Have you seen the flowershop in the morning? It's a... it's a mad house!"
"I could have a legion of men at my disposal if I wanted to."
"I could have a le- leg, I could have a legio-legion of rabid fan-fangirls if I wanted." Yohji pointed out.
Schuldig giggled. "Yeah. But I don't. Because I'm stupid."
Yohji's eyes widened in realization, "I'm a moron! Oh my god!"
"Because I choose to stay with HIM!"
"What was I thinking?"
Schuldig sat up and swiped the bottle from Yohji's feeble hands. "I choose HIM." He took a long hard drink. "HIM!"
"God, I'm stupid."
Schuldig crawled into Yohji's lap and bite at his lower lip. Jade eyes locked with emerald.
"...why did I choose him?" A tongue flicked forward and probed the open mouth of the other. "What was I thinking?"
=====
Nagi paced into the living room.
Two hours. Had it been... He squinted at the television clock again, willing the digital numbers to lie to him. Yes, it had been two hours. The Japanese youth turned on his heel and continued his march back into the kitchen. Crawford had been gone for two hours.
'Where's Schuldig?'
The Oracle had left without a word. The whole situation seemed ironic to Nagi, really. Wasn't Crawford suppose to know everything? There went his predictions, there went his confidence, his regaility. His control. Nagi laid his hands on the kitchen counter, giving himself a moment to rest and contemplate. His eyes skimmed and studied the reflection he saw in the counter's polished glare. If Crawford really did know everything, wouldn't he have known about this?
Wouldn't he have known that Farfarello was going to turn on him in the gym room. That Schuldig was going to go party hard the following night. That Schuldig shouldn't have been left alone the day after.
Some all knowing Oracle.
Nagi was neither a telepath or a clarevoyent, but even he knew that the red haired busy-body didn't like to be left alone.
And Crawford had left without a word. Leaving two others alone.
How existential.
With a sigh, Nagi pushed himself away from the tile and stalked out of the kitchen. Through the dining room, he found himself back in the living room, daring the television clock to defy him.
Farfarello hadn't exploded like Nagi thought he would. Instead the injured Irish madman had to told Crawford to "run" then calmly watched him stagger towards the front door. Both of the older teammates were a mess. For once, Crawford look more haggered than Farfarello. Ironic considering the latter was punked up, insane, and just spent the night in a private hospital.
Its funny the knack Schuldig had for getting everyone all rilled up. Nagi was almost jealous. He didn't think anyone would care if something happened to him.
The fifteen-year-old sighed and turned to glare at the kitchen table, where Farfarello sat. The albino was pressed against the kitchen chair, head lolled back slightly, black, ugly stitches exposed. His eye was half lidded, lips spread thinly apart. He hadn't said a word since Crawford left. Nagi had no idea what was running through his mind.
And he wanted to know.
"Where do you think Schuldig is?" Nagi asked quietly. His voice was more subdued than he intended. Damn it, he was not about to fall in a panic for Schuldig too. He refused.
Farfarello shifted in his seat. A moment passed. Then he smiled. "...not with Crawford."
"Obviously," Nagi hurridly mused, " Crawford would have called if he found him. I wonder where he's..." He paused, eyes narrowing, "You didn't mean it like that, did you?"
"Do you want to hear something strange?" Farfarello whispered.
He checked the clock again. Maybe it was broken.
"...entertain me."
"The Weiss Kitten... he was talking about the Mastermind."
"How is that?" Nagi had returned to the kitchen again. He paused and jerked around. "You don't mean they're..."
"Crawford's got a blindside." Farfarello chuckled. He folded his arms together and seemed to draw into himself. His head fell down, chin nearly touching his neck. "He didn't forsee this."
=============
Yohji Kudoh woke up feeling oddly refreshed. Oddly, because he knew he was hung over and because... he wasn't used to greeting the day without dread. Daylight was starting to become an enemy to him, not only because it meant he had survived the night, but because it meant he'd have to spend another afternoon in that flowershop. With the screaming girs. With Aya. With the screaming girls and Aya.
Sometimes he just didn't want to get out of bed.
A body rustled beside him. The flash of bleach green hair. The scent of bourbon, a familiar moan.
Make-up sex really was good, wasn't it?
Yohi, eyes still closed, grinned and placed his hand on the naked back of his partner. He stared to rub the warm skin in slow, comforting circles. Yup, this is what he lived for. These peaceful moments when everyone forgot they hated each other and just lived for a single warm, quiet moment.
Then he realized Aya didn't have blond green hair. And Aya didn't smell like Bourbon.
Then he realized that Schuldig had molested him.
"Christ Almighty." Yohji whispered and pulled a pillow over his head.
Schuldig, face still buried in the mattress, reached out blindly to touch the Eurasians neck and let out a soft mew. "Crawford mmm... get me.... coffee."
"This isn't a bed and breakfeast, Schu." Yohji mumbled. "You and me, we're in a lot of trouble."
Schuldig's hand stiffened then slowly clenched into a fist.
"...don't get violent. You're in my house and I'll scream rape." Ah, now the red ache of the hangover was starting to set in. Yohji winced. "And believe me, Psychic Power Ranger Boy, they're more likely to believe that story from my mouth than from yours."
The German let out a small moan. "You're such a fucking girl, Kudoh."
"Just get out of my bed before Aya finds out."
He didn't so much as shift. "Can't move. Too hung over."
Yohji sat up on his elbows and checked the clock. 7 AM, good. He had a couple of hours before the boys expected him down for breakfeast. Still had to be quiet though, Omi was probably up and getting ready for school. Yohji surveyed his room and wondered how him and Schuldig had ended up in there. They started in the back alley of the flowershop.
Oh. The window was still open.
"What's today?" He asked suddenly, hoping maybe it was one of his days off. His head hurt, but in this sitatuion he didn't have time to think slowly.
"Tuesday." Schuldig grunted and pulled more of the blankets towards his body.
"Damn, I have to be downstairs in two hours." Freckin' flowrshop.
Schuldig yawned. "Flowers suck."
"...whats your favorite flower?"
"...Snapedragons..."
Yohji's head tilted to the side, he attempted to regain some of the blankets. "That's a weird choice."
"Crawford says I'm a snapdragon." Schuldig pulled the blankets back.
"Very weird choice." Yohji gained some footing and took the bottom sheets to himself.
"Why's that?" Schuldig wrapped both legs around the comforter.
"Do you know what the snapdragon means in the language of flowers?"
A dazed jade eye slide open, orange-red eyebrow arched in annoyance. Whether it was because Yohji was asking too many questions too early in the morning, or because he had lost control of the bed sheets was questionable. "Kudoh, I can barely speak YOUR language, what the hell would I know about some flowe--"
Yohji barked a laugh. "Okay, easy. I just think its odd that Crawford would call you that." He shrugged.
Suddenly Schuldig seemed more awake. "Why?"
"Snapdragons," Yohji tilted his head to the size, curious as to why Schuldig would care that much about some nickname the oracle pinned onto him that probably had no real symbolic meaning in the first place. "in the language of flowers means 'Deception.'"
Schuldig sat up and stared. "They..." He looked at Kudoh wildly and Yohji found himself jumping back against the headboard. Jade eyes narrowed. "What do daisys stand for?"
"Daisys, they stand for 'Loyalty in Love.' Why?"
In a flash Schuldig was out of bed and scrambling for his clothes. "I've got to go. I've got to... I've got to find Crawford and... and... put a bullet in his head. I've got to." He fumbled into his trousers and started pulling at his hair. "I've got to find Crawford."
"Schuldig?"
"I've made a terrible mistake, I've got to find..."
Footsteps in the hall.
"Yohji, what's that noise?" The door opened and both men - one only half dressed froze. "Schwartz."
"Aya."
Author Rant -
What am I doing here? What are YOU doing here?
I hate this fic. HATE this fic.
My god, this looks like something I wrote in elemenatary school. Plot hole, plot hole,
abrupt unfounded transituion, grammer error, spelling mistake. There's not depth,
there's no story line. What's WRONG with this fic??
sobs
Why am I working on this?
I just like to torture myself.
=============================================================================================
Bourbon sparkled like a fine jewel under the moonlite sky. The smell was heavy and clung to the air, a seductive toxin that lured its victims in from afar then struck when the moment was right. It burned the skin and sedated the mouth. Problems became less heavy, weight ignored gravity, and for a moment the world seemed to stop in its quiet, lumber rotation...
"He doesn't deserve me." Schuldig slurred.
Yohji nodded slowly, slowly because his motor skills were slowly packing up and heading south for the winter. He brought the bourbon bottle up to his spread lips and attempted to pour it into his mouth. His aim was off. Good thing he wasn't on the job. "He doesn't deserve ME!"
"I could do better than him." Schuldig fell backwards onto the cobble stone floor and stared at the sky. The stars seemed to dance for him. The silver orbs spinning in circles in an inane little tango. A giggle escaped the telepath.
"I could do SO much better than him." Yohji agreed.
Schuldig's hands reached into the air and he tried to pinch the stars into stillness. "D' you have ANY idea how - how - how many guys I could so be with, if I wasn't with him? I mean," He paused and felt the drink crawl upwards to his throat. Schuldig closed his eyes, "I mean, I'm like, IN DEMAND! People want me."
Yohji couldn't understand why the bourbon was falling onto his shoulder and not into his mouth. "People want you? People want me! I should... I should start handing out tickets! One at a time ladies! Have you seen the flowershop in the morning? It's a... it's a mad house!"
"I could have a legion of men at my disposal if I wanted to."
"I could have a le- leg, I could have a legio-legion of rabid fan-fangirls if I wanted." Yohji pointed out.
Schuldig giggled. "Yeah. But I don't. Because I'm stupid."
Yohji's eyes widened in realization, "I'm a moron! Oh my god!"
"Because I choose to stay with HIM!"
"What was I thinking?"
Schuldig sat up and swiped the bottle from Yohji's feeble hands. "I choose HIM." He took a long hard drink. "HIM!"
"God, I'm stupid."
Schuldig crawled into Yohji's lap and bite at his lower lip. Jade eyes locked with emerald.
"...why did I choose him?" A tongue flicked forward and probed the open mouth of the other. "What was I thinking?"
=====
Nagi paced into the living room.
Two hours. Had it been... He squinted at the television clock again, willing the digital numbers to lie to him. Yes, it had been two hours. The Japanese youth turned on his heel and continued his march back into the kitchen. Crawford had been gone for two hours.
'Where's Schuldig?'
The Oracle had left without a word. The whole situation seemed ironic to Nagi, really. Wasn't Crawford suppose to know everything? There went his predictions, there went his confidence, his regaility. His control. Nagi laid his hands on the kitchen counter, giving himself a moment to rest and contemplate. His eyes skimmed and studied the reflection he saw in the counter's polished glare. If Crawford really did know everything, wouldn't he have known about this?
Wouldn't he have known that Farfarello was going to turn on him in the gym room. That Schuldig was going to go party hard the following night. That Schuldig shouldn't have been left alone the day after.
Some all knowing Oracle.
Nagi was neither a telepath or a clarevoyent, but even he knew that the red haired busy-body didn't like to be left alone.
And Crawford had left without a word. Leaving two others alone.
How existential.
With a sigh, Nagi pushed himself away from the tile and stalked out of the kitchen. Through the dining room, he found himself back in the living room, daring the television clock to defy him.
Farfarello hadn't exploded like Nagi thought he would. Instead the injured Irish madman had to told Crawford to "run" then calmly watched him stagger towards the front door. Both of the older teammates were a mess. For once, Crawford look more haggered than Farfarello. Ironic considering the latter was punked up, insane, and just spent the night in a private hospital.
Its funny the knack Schuldig had for getting everyone all rilled up. Nagi was almost jealous. He didn't think anyone would care if something happened to him.
The fifteen-year-old sighed and turned to glare at the kitchen table, where Farfarello sat. The albino was pressed against the kitchen chair, head lolled back slightly, black, ugly stitches exposed. His eye was half lidded, lips spread thinly apart. He hadn't said a word since Crawford left. Nagi had no idea what was running through his mind.
And he wanted to know.
"Where do you think Schuldig is?" Nagi asked quietly. His voice was more subdued than he intended. Damn it, he was not about to fall in a panic for Schuldig too. He refused.
Farfarello shifted in his seat. A moment passed. Then he smiled. "...not with Crawford."
"Obviously," Nagi hurridly mused, " Crawford would have called if he found him. I wonder where he's..." He paused, eyes narrowing, "You didn't mean it like that, did you?"
"Do you want to hear something strange?" Farfarello whispered.
He checked the clock again. Maybe it was broken.
"...entertain me."
"The Weiss Kitten... he was talking about the Mastermind."
"How is that?" Nagi had returned to the kitchen again. He paused and jerked around. "You don't mean they're..."
"Crawford's got a blindside." Farfarello chuckled. He folded his arms together and seemed to draw into himself. His head fell down, chin nearly touching his neck. "He didn't forsee this."
=============
Yohji Kudoh woke up feeling oddly refreshed. Oddly, because he knew he was hung over and because... he wasn't used to greeting the day without dread. Daylight was starting to become an enemy to him, not only because it meant he had survived the night, but because it meant he'd have to spend another afternoon in that flowershop. With the screaming girs. With Aya. With the screaming girls and Aya.
Sometimes he just didn't want to get out of bed.
A body rustled beside him. The flash of bleach green hair. The scent of bourbon, a familiar moan.
Make-up sex really was good, wasn't it?
Yohi, eyes still closed, grinned and placed his hand on the naked back of his partner. He stared to rub the warm skin in slow, comforting circles. Yup, this is what he lived for. These peaceful moments when everyone forgot they hated each other and just lived for a single warm, quiet moment.
Then he realized Aya didn't have blond green hair. And Aya didn't smell like Bourbon.
Then he realized that Schuldig had molested him.
"Christ Almighty." Yohji whispered and pulled a pillow over his head.
Schuldig, face still buried in the mattress, reached out blindly to touch the Eurasians neck and let out a soft mew. "Crawford mmm... get me.... coffee."
"This isn't a bed and breakfeast, Schu." Yohji mumbled. "You and me, we're in a lot of trouble."
Schuldig's hand stiffened then slowly clenched into a fist.
"...don't get violent. You're in my house and I'll scream rape." Ah, now the red ache of the hangover was starting to set in. Yohji winced. "And believe me, Psychic Power Ranger Boy, they're more likely to believe that story from my mouth than from yours."
The German let out a small moan. "You're such a fucking girl, Kudoh."
"Just get out of my bed before Aya finds out."
He didn't so much as shift. "Can't move. Too hung over."
Yohji sat up on his elbows and checked the clock. 7 AM, good. He had a couple of hours before the boys expected him down for breakfeast. Still had to be quiet though, Omi was probably up and getting ready for school. Yohji surveyed his room and wondered how him and Schuldig had ended up in there. They started in the back alley of the flowershop.
Oh. The window was still open.
"What's today?" He asked suddenly, hoping maybe it was one of his days off. His head hurt, but in this sitatuion he didn't have time to think slowly.
"Tuesday." Schuldig grunted and pulled more of the blankets towards his body.
"Damn, I have to be downstairs in two hours." Freckin' flowrshop.
Schuldig yawned. "Flowers suck."
"...whats your favorite flower?"
"...Snapedragons..."
Yohji's head tilted to the side, he attempted to regain some of the blankets. "That's a weird choice."
"Crawford says I'm a snapdragon." Schuldig pulled the blankets back.
"Very weird choice." Yohji gained some footing and took the bottom sheets to himself.
"Why's that?" Schuldig wrapped both legs around the comforter.
"Do you know what the snapdragon means in the language of flowers?"
A dazed jade eye slide open, orange-red eyebrow arched in annoyance. Whether it was because Yohji was asking too many questions too early in the morning, or because he had lost control of the bed sheets was questionable. "Kudoh, I can barely speak YOUR language, what the hell would I know about some flowe--"
Yohji barked a laugh. "Okay, easy. I just think its odd that Crawford would call you that." He shrugged.
Suddenly Schuldig seemed more awake. "Why?"
"Snapdragons," Yohji tilted his head to the size, curious as to why Schuldig would care that much about some nickname the oracle pinned onto him that probably had no real symbolic meaning in the first place. "in the language of flowers means 'Deception.'"
Schuldig sat up and stared. "They..." He looked at Kudoh wildly and Yohji found himself jumping back against the headboard. Jade eyes narrowed. "What do daisys stand for?"
"Daisys, they stand for 'Loyalty in Love.' Why?"
In a flash Schuldig was out of bed and scrambling for his clothes. "I've got to go. I've got to... I've got to find Crawford and... and... put a bullet in his head. I've got to." He fumbled into his trousers and started pulling at his hair. "I've got to find Crawford."
"Schuldig?"
"I've made a terrible mistake, I've got to find..."
Footsteps in the hall.
"Yohji, what's that noise?" The door opened and both men - one only half dressed froze. "Schwartz."
"Aya."