Chapter Twenty-Two – Coming of Age

On MS Word, this is the top of page 100. I like to think I did that on purpose. It's a lie, but still, it would have been some prophesising worthy of Brad, ne? This is probably the first section that really deserves that R, and I'll try to keep it no more than that, but I'm still a bit fuzzy about the boundaries ^_^

Schuldig stared at the bed. Brad was lying on it, naked. He looked vulnerable, but also, well… dead. His eyes were closed and he wasn't moving, like a corpse laid out in the morgue ready to be dressed for the funeral. On the bed side table was a collection of things Brad had assumed they'd need. Condoms, lube, a damp cloth…

"I can't do this," Schuldig said weakly.

Brad's eyes opened. "Why not?" He didn't question Schuldig's sudden declaration.

"It's not real."

"Did I do something wrong?" Brad sounded slightly confused and a little put out, but patient. He knew that he was the one with a lot to learn here.

Schuldig stared at him. Slowly, he made his way over to the bed and collapsed onto it, lying parallel to Brad with his head by the older man's toes. He didn't know what to say, how to say it.

"Yes," he said eventually.

Brad frowned. It wasn't often he was told he was in the wrong. He didn't like it. "How so?" he asked quietly, trying to second-guess Schuldig's answer in his own mind. Did he have the wrong equipment ready? Was he not attractive enough? Was there something he was supposed to have done which he'd never heard about?

"No, no and no," Schuldig moaned. "And therein, yes. You're thinking far too much about the whole thing. It's sex, Brad. It's supposed to be spontaneous, not subject to meticulous planning. You feel like a client, not a friend."

"I don't understand," Brad admitted reluctantly. "This whole thing had to be planned. It is, in itself, a plan."

"You're tactless," Schuldig said bluntly. "I was a prostitute. It was not pleasant. You are treating me like a prostitute. This is not pleasant. Follow yet?" he rolled onto his stomach and started playing with Brad's toes, separating them and moving them around. They twitched. "Earlier, it could have been perfect. In front of the television, curled up like that, letting everything progress naturally from fooling around to fucking around. But you scheduled it. You wouldn't do it until some preordained time. It's all set up and prepared and I feel like you've allocated me some portion of your day, given me some kind of appointment, and I feel like a prostitute." He started to suck on Brad's toes, tongue exploring between them. They tasted of soap and shampoo and slightly of salt. Brad was one of those people who showered in the evening.

"I see."

"No you didn't, or it wouldn't be like this now," Schuldig smirked. "You're not even hard." He traced a finger down the sole of Brad's foot. Brad's knee jerked, and Schuldig almost lost his teeth as the foot slammed into them. He grinned. Turns out, Brad was ticklish in places other than just behind the ears.

"Schuldig, this isn't supposed to be romantic. It's sex. I'm not surprised you feel like a prostitute; when we get right down to it, you are. I'm just not paying you." Brad pulled his feet away. "Get over it."

Schuldig rolled onto his side playfully, hands reaching out to catch the elusive foot again. Brad was sitting up, hands loosely clasped in front of his knees, which were drawn up to his chest. Between his legs, Schuldig could see a nest of dark curls and caught a glimpse of a gloriously erect penis. There was sweat dampening Brad's inner thighs and leaving dark spots on the white sheets. His face was a picture of perfect calm and composure, but Schuldig's toe nibbling had had it's desired effect.

"Undress me," Schuldig commanded, stretching out across the sheets.

"Undress yourself," Brad said. Schuldig was wearing his uniform trousers with the green jacket, and a white expanse of sculpted chest taunted Brad. When Schuldig edged closer Brad could see a dark nipple, incongruously dark against the pale and slightly freckled skin, straining upright, it's aureole almost purple. Unconsciously, he licked his lips.

"You'll like my way better," Schuldig promised. "Trust me, there's no one with more experience than the guilty one." His eyelids fluttered, lashes a shade darker than his hair, brushing flushed skin. Brad wondered what shade his 'other' hair would be. Suddenly he was overcome with an overpowering urge to find out.

He moved like a snake, grabbing Schuldig's thin grey trousers and pulling them down, accidentally ripping them. The sound of the ragged seams giving way seem to send Schuldig into a frenzy, and he arced his back to brush bare chest against bare chest. Brad spared a hand to pull off the jacket and toss it across the room as Schuldig fastened on to him like a leech, sucking on Brad's neck until his stomach muscles gave way and he flopped back onto the bed.

They paused briefly, panting. Schuldig stared up at Brad. Brad stared down at Schuldig, one arm holding himself up over the teen. Damp auburn curls surrounded the proof that Schuldig was more than over his earlier objections. Brad stared at it, a wave of uncharacteristic nervousness washing through him. Soon, that would be in him. He'd have someone inside of him. And again tomorrow night, but someone he couldn't stand.

"Hush," Schuldig murmured, reaching up to stroke Brad's hair and remove his glasses. "It's good. It's okay to be nervous, baby."

Brad pulled back. "Baby?" He asked incredulously. "You have got to be kidding me!"

Schuldig chuckled, a deep, sultry sound. "Come back," he growled, reaching around Brad's neck to pull him back down. Brad jumped at the feeling of Schuldig's naked body moulding itself to his. It was a new, fresh feeling, and entirely good. Schuldig kissed the crown of his head, giving Brad time to get used to every new sensation. Brad gave him a peck on the cheek.

"Let go," Schuldig purred. "Come on, you want this. Let me know you want this. Let your body tell me in all the ways it wants to."

Brad pulled his head back slightly, to look at Schuldig for a moment, then leant forwards slowly, lips slightly parted. Schuldig smiled and tilted his head at the angle Brad seemed to be anticipating. The kiss was much more restrained than either man wanted, gentle, exploratory, testing. Schuldig was keeping a tight rein on his impulses, letting Brad take the initiative. Brad was waiting for him, aware that the next night would have nothing to do with his own wants or needs.

* More, harder! * Schuldig demanded. Brad gave in more than willingly, deepening the kiss beyond passion, pressing against Schuldig, trapping their heat between them. He whimpered into Schuldig's mouth as the experienced younger man reached down and firmly grasped his throbbing erection, pumping it smoothly.

"God, Schuldig!" Brad whimpered. Schuldig removed his hand to push Brad over. "Wha'? Don't stop!"

"Lube," Schuldig growled. "Are you ready?"

Brad stared up at him, wide eyes and tousled hair, body slick with sweat. Was he ready? It was too late to ask that kind of question. He was nervous – no, he was terrified. He didn't want Schuldig inside of him. He didn't want to be taken like a woman.

"Brad?" Schuldig stared down at him.

"Do it," Brad told him, wrapping his legs over Schuldig's shoulders. "I want you in me."

* * *

Schuldig gasped as he came, feeling Brad's sphincter tighten around his penis as Brad did the same. Brad threw his head back, but made no sound. As they collapsed into each other's arms, Schuldig gently withdrawing, Brad's eyes were still glazed.

Schuldig curled around Brad, spooning his new lover's body and wrapping his arms around Brad's waist. "So, now you are officially a man, what do you think? Feel any different?"

Brad frowned into the pillow, aware that Schuldig had managed to manipulate him into lying in the wet spot. Somehow, that was comforting. It was so typically Schuldig, in a situation that was so atypical of Brad. "I didn't enjoy it," he admitted frankly.

Schuldig stiffened. "I… you… but…" He frowned into Brad's spine, chewing his lip. "You came!" he wailed.

"I know. I mean, it was good. Not that I have anything to compare it to. But definitely very good sex. I just didn't enjoy it." Brad frowned. "I mean, I…"

"You lost control," Schuldig guessed correctly. "You're so fucking anal I'm not surprised you didn't like that bit of it." Schuldig remembered the panicked gasps and frantic movements as Brad had moved with him. Schuldig had had power over him, Schuldig had had power over how good Brad felt and how soon he'd come, thrusting into him and pumping his erection at the same time. Yes, Schuldig had had power over Brad, and Brad hadn't liked relinquishing that kind of control one little bit.

"Huh?"

"I had control. That pissed you off." Schuldig was proud of himself for figuring it out. Brad frowned and rolled over, still loosely clasped in Schuldig's embrace. He found himself smiling at the shock headed German, who was squinting through his hair.

"You know, I think you might be right," he sighed. "How were my shields?"

"Fucking awful," Schuldig said cheerfully. "Let's do it again, and see if you can learn to enjoy it!"

Brad's smile suddenly took on a predatory edge. With a firm hand he grabbed Schuldig's shoulder and pressed him face down into the mattress. Schuldig growled as Brad mounted him forcefully, taking control.

It wasn't long before Brad reached his limits, having not bothered with any lubrication or a condom in his desire to take Schuldig. Schuldig yelped as Brad's thrusts grew more intense and his own erection dug into the mattress, his hands trapped by his sides. Brad came suddenly, and Schuldig's back arced to accommodate the final thrust. Brad collapsed, spent, on top of him, pinning Schuldig to the mattress. Schuldig whimpered, unable to breath, his length trapped and painful.

"You need… to learn… some consideration for others…" Schuldig panted. "Mustn't… neglect… your partner."

"Huh?" Brad peeled himself off of the younger man. "Neglect?" Schuldig rolled over and Brad's eyes widened at the sight of Schuldig's swollen penis. "Wow," he smirked. "No wonder you were so popular as a prostitute."

"I'm just as popular now," Schuldig snapped. He started to stroke his erection, not meeting Brad's eyes. He wanted the older man to feel guilty for being such an inconsiderate lover. A damn good lover, though.

It caught him by surprise when something other than his own hand brushed the head of his erection. He stared down, mouth opening in a silent 'oh' of shock. He couldn't see anything below his waist, hidden from him as it was by the top of Brad's head. He moved his hand swiftly, and felt the warm mouth engulf him. It wasn't long before he was gasping out a warning to Brad, who gamely swallowed everything Schuldig threw at him.

"Schu," Brad murmured, using Schuldig's body to pull himself level with the younger man, "what am I going to do tomorrow? I'm going to fall to pieces."

It was a surprisingly honest confession, and Schuldig felt honoured to hear it. He pressed against Brad's warm body, rolling one of the older man's nipples between his thumb and finger. "I don't know about you, but I can keep this up all night," he leered. "And you know, practice makes perfect…" Brad found himself responding to Schuldig's touch.

"He's going to take me, Schuldig," Brad reminded him. "I could fuck you for eternity, but I don't think I could be fucked by you again. I have to let him be on top."

"So? You can still take control." Schuldig kissed him deeply, tongue straining to reach Brad's wisdom teeth, just to see if he could. "Ride me, Brad. Sit up there and ride me hard and wet until I'm begging for more." Brad seemed to consider this for a second, and then he sat up and swung his leg over Schuldig's anticipatory body, straddling the younger man.

Lying on the mattress, hands clutching the bedstead, Schuldig stared up at him through a veil of hair. Brad curled his fingers through Schuldig's other hair, tangled at his groin into sweaty knots and matted curls. Schuldig's stamina and recovery time never ceased to amaze him, and he realised with pride that he wasn't struggling to keep up. Schuldig's washboard stomach quivered as Brad's tongue chased a sweat droplet across it, leaving a cold trail. Slowly, Brad lowered himself onto Schuldig. Within moments they had settled back into what was rapidly becoming their usual rhythm.

* * *

Brad could see the sun rising through the window, the snow on the Alps glowing and sparkling. He didn't feel particularly different than he had this time yesterday, except his aches were no longer hangover induced and he felt generally better all round. Some of that nervous tension that had been plaguing him for months, no, years, not just since the news of his impending doom, was gone, and he fancifully imagined it melting away from his body as the snow melted away from the mountains during a splendid dawn.

"So poetic," Schuldig mumbled beside him. Schuldig was sprawled across more than half the bed, taking advantage of the width of the small double compared to the ridiculously narrow bunks in the dorms. The white sheets, no longer crisp in any sense of the word, were pooled about their feet, and the light the set the hills on fire had a similar effect on Schuldig's pale skin, causing splintered colours to flicker across the lean sinewy torso.

Schuldig caught Brad staring at him. He grinned and stretched, catlike, and there was an unmistakable air of smug satisfaction around him. "So," he purred, "do you feel ready to face the day as a man?"

Brad sat up, stretching his arms above his head and grimacing as his back popped. "What is this obsession of your with sex making me a man? I was quite man enough, thank you."

"Ja, ja," Schuldig shifted round to rest his head in Brad's lap. "It's a traditional coming of age rite. With emphasis on the 'coming'." He leered.

"You just like the idea of being a man before me, don't you?" Brad grinned down at him. "In most cultures, you have to be eighteen to be considered a man. Hell, in most countries you have to be eighteen to do what we just did, and often it's not legal even then."

"Does it turn you on, breaking the rules like that?" Schuldig wiggled his hips and raised his eyebrows, making Brad laugh. The older man shook his head with amusement and tried to push Schuldig away so he could get up. "Just as well," Schuldig gave in, sitting up of his own accord, "I'm pretty certain I turned eighteen somewhere around the fifth time."

"It's your birthday today? Many happy returns," Brad said.

"Return what? That's one of those nonsensical English phrases, isn't it? Like 'how do you do?' Seriously, how do I do what?" Schuldig watched Brad get dressed through his hair. Brad collected Schuldig's trousers, now ruined, and his jacket.

"We need to do something about that hair of yours," he observed. "It's getting ridiculous."

"You didn't see me the other day. Kept walking into walls," Schuldig grinned, studying the trousers, which had once been a single item of clothing consisting of two tubes, and was now two items of clothing consisting of a single tube each.

Brad gestured for Schuldig to see if he could find a pair of trousers in Brad's wardrobe that would fit without too many alterations and wandered into the kitchen. He'd need to wash those sheets. Hell, he'd need to wash the floor too. And the window ledge. And the ceiling.

Ceiling? Brad frowned. That had been an education. He fished in the cupboard under the sink, the place where people are told repeatedly never to keep cleaning products but everyone does, and grabbed a handful of cloths and a great deal of bleach. At the back of the cupboard was a packet of dusters, with only one left. Without really thinking about it, Brad took that out too.

He walked back into the sparsely furnished bedroom to spot Schuldig, wearing only the jacket, standing in front of the built in wardrobe. One hand was pressed firmly to the top of his head, and Brad frowned. Schuldig glanced round, and Brad realised with a laugh that Schuldig was holding his hair out of his eyes.

Brad glanced down at the duster in his hand. Working on the hunch Schuldig would have no idea what its original use was, he chucked it to the birthday boy.

"Here, present," he grinned. "Use it to tie your hair back." Schuldig stared at the soft yellow cloth, running it between his fingers. He looked up, beaming, and Brad saw a hint of a tear sparkling at the bottom of one eye.

"Danke," Schuldig said hoarsely, folding the long dusting cloth into a strip and tying it at the back of his neck. It wasn't perfect, but it would do, taking the place of his hand to keep his hair out of his eyes.

Brad walked over and leant on the wardrobe, tying to ignore the temptation the mostly naked Schuldig represented. Something about the combination of the dimpled bare bottom peeking out from under the jacket as Schuldig turned back to the wardrobe, the genuine feeling and vulnerability in Schuldig's 'danke' and the youthful maturity of the one time child prostitute prompted Brad to slip his arms around the younger man and kiss his ear. Schuldig leant back into him, and Brad pressed him against the nearest available surface for a little more support as hands started their now customary exploration.

Damn, he was going to have to clean the wardrobe as well.

And that, mes amies, was the sex scene you were all waiting for. ^_^