"I'm just using you"

BY : Hestia
Category: Weiß Kreuz > Yaoi - Male/Male
Dragon prints: 4147
Disclaimer: I do not own Weiß Kreuz, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

IV.

Yohji knew he looked good. The slender man with the black eyes and black hair dancing with him certainly thought so. He didn’t need Schuldig’s power to know that pretty face was thinking about getting fucked by him. The music shifted, and Yohji kept dancing—other men danced close trying to distract him, but the pretty black-eyed one was the one Yohji was planning to fuck in the bathroom at Boyland. He was just waiting, hoping Schuldig would show up. But a few dances later, the pretty one took matters into his own hands, whispering he was going to the upstairs bathroom and would be in the last stall. Yohji stopped to down a shot before heading up the stairs.

When he opened the stall, he found himself confronted by an ass that he admitted was a pretty as a girl’s—and sexier too with the base of a red buttplug there. The player in him responded, and he stepped up and turned that head with the sleek black hair for a kiss and let his fingers go searching for tit and cock. Soon he had the pretty one moaning loudly, and he jerked out the plug and forced it into that moaning mouth. He rolled on a condom and shoved in. It occurred to him this was the first time he fucked a man in reality as he thrust in. But what he’d felt through Schuldig had had felt exactly the same, so it didn’t feel like the first time at all. He plucked at a nipple, biting a pale shoulder waiting for the pretty one to stop trembling. All his moves and lines from being with women were surprisingly easy to adapt to a man, he was finding.

He was lost in pleasure, making the dark-haired man moan when he suddenly felt Schuldig in his mind strongly. A wave of pleasure went over him, and his rhythm faltered. `Don’t stop on my account, kitten,’ said Schuldig in his mind.

`Never,’ thought back Yohji, `Did you think I was going to give up fucking for you because I had a romantic vision? And I know it’s not going to happen, Schuldig. But we all have needs. Did it never occur to you that I was using you to satisfy the romantic part of me? But, fuck, that doesn’t mean I think you would give me that—I know you don’t want it. I don’t even know that I really want that.’ And rather than struggle for the words, Yohji pushed at Schuldig all his love of the hunt, of watching and seducing others, at being free, not knowing what he would encounter as he dressed for a night. His need for excitement, for thrills, for new adventures like this—fucking this pretty, moaning thing—all of that he just “pushed” at Schuldig.

Fucking someone as Schuldig rode his mind was incredible—it made the act seem even more exhibitionist than merely being in a public restroom stall. And there was that surge of pleasure that told Yohji the German not only liked “watching” him, but loved that Yohji liked it, too. `I’d like to fuck and be fucked for real,’ Yohji thought to Schul. “Wanna come fuck me? Or shall I find someone else—a pair of twins?”

Schuldig had a weird feeling of déjà vu when images of the Weiss kitty with a pair of twins were there before him. Oh, yeah, he’d been planning on finding twins to forget Yohji . . . `So I’ll have to fight you for the twins?’ said a laughing voice in his mind, startling him even more. He started to withdrawl from that addictive mind, pulling up shields when he felt the little uke tighten and convulse around Yohji’s cock. Schuldig pushed back into that seductive honey-sweet mind, experiencing Yohji’s thrill as he man his first male uke come.

Without thinking Schuldig reached out and linked the pleasure of the coming man to Yohji and himself. That set off his kitten, and that intense bliss that was one of Kudoh’s orgasms filled Schuldig up. He found himself going up the stairs and heading to the bathroom, and the closer he got, the more his kitten came. But when he was at the door, Yohji had already disposed of the condom and pulled the red butt plug from that pretty mouth, asking the man if he wanted more cock. By the time the German was half way across the bathroom, three men listening around the stall were volunteering. But then the stall door swung open, and those warm eyes behind the cute glasses were looking into his.

“You,” said Yohji. “He wants fucked by Carrots, there.”

The other men started to protest, but Schuldig whipped through their minds, sending two of them reeling to the sink to splash water on their faces and one into another stall where he vomited. Yohji handed him a condom as he swung the door of the handicapped stall shut. It was a pretty ass, and the face with the mouth moaning around the butt plug looking back at him was pretty too.

“Go ahead and use him,” said Yohji, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. Schuldig grinned at Balinese’s desire to see him fucking someone else. He pulled out his cock and rolled the condom on, and the blonde replayed his own feelings as he first slid into that ass in front of the telepath. Schuldig pushed in as Yohji recalled his own penetration, and it felt like they were fucking the raven-haired man together. And then he felt Yohji’s spike of pleasure at the knowledge that had passed to him that fucking him felt better and that Schuldig hadn’t really enjoyed any of the fucking he’d done since he’d left Yohji.

God, he was the world’s best telepath, and he couldn’t shield things properly. Yohji’s arms were around him caressing him, and he was whispering it was because he didn’t want to shield, he wanted the pleasure, the pleasure of this—and then memories of their fucking began replaying in his mind like a slide show. He started plowing the ass in from of him, pounding it, and he heard a rich laugh echo in the stall—from where Yohji was still smoking three feet away. That embrace had been in the mind—dear god, how had the Weiss kitten been able to do that?

`Keep fucking him, Schul,’ drawled the kitten in his mind, `Just use him. And I’m using you to learn about telepathy of course. Next time a hot telepathy wants to use me, I’m ready to play mind games. Are there any more like you? Ah! Two, but one in Germany, one in Hong Kong. That’s too bad.”

“Slut,” cried out Schuldig, throwing up his shields. His cry made the pretty man he was fucking moan and push back his ass.

“I’m getting a drink,” said Yohji walking out, and Schuldig had shut so tightly he couldn’t tell what the kitten was feeling.

`I don’t care!’ he told himself even as rage was pouring in him at the spike of desire Yohji had felt for the two other telepaths his mind had accidentally shown him. He’d liked the looks of Pev, with his blue eyes and spikey blue-streaked hair. Schuldig felt that hot lust clear and strong, conveying how Yohji wanting to be fucked by Pev, to feel Pev in his mind feeling him. “Slut,” the Germa said again, slamming into the ass in front of him savagely.

“Hey, can I get in on that?” asked another man pushing in the stall when Yohji came out.

Schuldig let the man stay, but when he was done with the pretty man with the black hair and eyes, he fucked the newcomer sending the other on his way with his red buttplug back in his ass. The new man was a seme, and the telepath had to override his natural tendencies. He put up a mental struggle that only made Schuldig enjoy forcing him to bend over for him more.

But then he felt Yohji at the stall door, and his control slipped. The brunette began to struggle, and Schuldig pulled out, cursing, saying, “Well, don’t say you want it, then.” He jerked open the stall’s door, and his eyes met Yohji’s cold ones.

`There are plenty of willing men here, and you rape one,’ the Weiss assassin said, his mental voice sharp and whispering of death.

Schuldig’s emotions surged in him, but that cold, deadly voice said, `Good-bye.’ And the image he got was of a curved wall around Yohji’s thoughts. It was a pathetic shield, and the Mastermind could have reached through it so easily he might not have noticed it if it hadn’t formed in front of him. He watched Balinese’s incredibly sexy ass in tight low-cut blue velvet pants move away from him.

Later that night Schuldig took four very willing men back to a hotel room. It was the sort of night that usually left him happy and sated for a week or at least a few days. But when he got home, he was angry, angry because he didn’t want to know what emotions were under that anger. To his surprise, his teammates were up watching a movie he enjoyed and all his favorite food were there. When the movie finished and most of the food was good, Nagi turned the tv off, and Crawford said, “Schuldig, tell us why Kudoh’s rejection has you so worked up.”

“What rejection?” asked Schuldig. “I rejected him.”

“I had a disturbing vision of you raping someone, and Kudoh stopping you. You asked to fuck him, and he said no—“

“That’s not what happened!”

“You know my visions aren’t 100% accurate, Schuldig,” said Brad. “Now, listen to the rest. When he said no in the vision, you shot him and went on a killing spree, shooting a dozen men in the nightclub Boyland before being shot yourself. You died in the vision as did Kudoh.” Schuldig looked stunned, Crawford noted; he decided not to mention the part about Schuldig and Kudoh crawling toward each other and making declarations of love before they expired. That was the key thing that the vision had revealed, but also the one part he wasn’t sharing until he had more of a handle on what was going on with Schuldig and Weiss’s Balinese.

“I went and had Nagi check on you,” Brad continued. “There was no bloodshed at Boyland, and the bouncer confirmed Kudoh had left. But you didn’t sense your teammate. He even followed you to the love hotel you chose before returning home. I think that the key to this vision not happening is for you to continue to periodically fuck Balinese. It will be useful to have a link to Weiss, a potential alley should our teams come into conflict. Weiss and Schwartz fighting is something that only would destroy both of us. It is in our best interest to simply be professional rivals. I’m not asking you to fall in love with him or marry him, Schuldig,” he said sharply holding up his hand to stop whatever was about to come out of the furious telepath’s mouth. “I’m just suggesting you be fuck buddies, two men that occasionally use each other for pleasure. Now is that impossible? Or do you prefer being shot?”

Brad almost laughed at the look on Schuldig’s face and the way his mouth was opening and closing, but he liked his body and the house in their current condition. “Is there a reason it is a problem to fuck Kudoh? Or is he fucking you?”

“I’m fucking the slut!” shouted Schuldig, now pacing, watched by Nagi’s and Farfarello’s fascinated eyes.

“He’s a slut?” asked Crawford, “He cheated on you?”

That stopped Schuldig in his tracks. Then shaking his head, he began pacing again. “There’s nothing for him to cheat on. He can fuck whoever he wants. It won’t come close to what I make him feel.”

“Then he likes your fucking, but you just aren’t enough?”

Furious, Schuldig broadcasted to all of them just how much Yohji liked his fucking. Lost in the memory, his hand went down to his crotch, rubbing his erection. He snapped out of it when Nagi threw him into the wall. He opened his eyes and really focused on his teammates. Farfarello was hard and slicing his own pants off with a knife and slicing up his skin in the process. Nagi was also hard, panting, his skin flushed pink, his lips swollen, and eyes bright. As for Crawford, well, as usually, Schuldig couldn’t read him. But his pants were straining as well.

“He loves you,” said Nagi. “You fucking lucky bastard! He really loves you!” Shocked, Schuldig slid into Nagi’s mind and looked from his eyes. The chibi’s jealousy, rage, loneliness, and bitterness was woven into his arousal. But what really blew away Schuldig was the vision of himself and Kudoh—it wasn’t really a vision in the sense of being visual, although it came with a sort of golden aura. His mind and Yohji’s had merged like two stars colliding, and they were spinning around each other creating a thing that dazzled: it was like a warm window glimpsed as you trudged by in the snow on a winter’s night. Inside that window were two people with it all—home, love, excitement, power, sex, intimacy, and acceptance. In short, they had a wholeness that left Nagi hurt being outside it. With a whisper of thanks, Schuldig gently withdrew sending a touch of affection to the smaller man.

“I’m going to my room,” said Schuldig quietly, doing just that. The others did the same, and Schuldig, surprising both himself and them, let them masturbate without a single mental comment or trace of his mind in theirs.



It was Saturday night again. Yohji hadn’t even made an effort to go to a club; he’d simply showed up after dinner. Ken was out on a date, but Aya, Omi, and Yohji sat and watched a baseball game.

“I tried your advice, Aya,” said Yohji when the game was over and a documentary on WWII was on. He could sense his teammates listening carefully. “It’s about as good as fucking women. He’s just different. It’s not that he’s male, although he is; it just him. It just seems a waste of time to pick up other people.”

Aya nodded while Omi sympathized, “Oh, Yohji I’m so sorry. It’s awful when the one you love doesn’t love you.”

The one you love! Did he love Schuldig? He remembered the glimpse he’d gotten of Schuldig twisting that man’s mind, so he could fuck him. But he also remembered all he’d learned of his orange-haired lover, and he understood why he had done such a horrible thing, just one of the many criminal and cruel things he’d done.

After a few minutes, Yohji began to talk again. “He’s afraid to love me because he’s been hurt so badly in the past. He hates the idea of love and romance. I think I made it worse; I slept with another man and tried to act like I didn’t care about him. I thought that would make him feel ok with just being my fuck buddy, what he seems to want. But I think I hurt him even more. I don’t know what to do now.”

“What’s his name?” asked Aya.

Yohji was silent. He couldn’t tell them. Omi suddenly gasped and said, “Schuldig! Oh, Yohji,” he said reproachfully when he saw the shock on the honey blonde’s face. Tears filled his eyes, and he ran out of the room. The sound of his feet and a door slamming could be heard above the documentary.

With a sigh, Yohji hung his head.

“Is this true, Yohji?” asked Aya. “Are you in love with Schuldig who killed Omi’s half-sister, the woman he was in love with?”

“I’m—it’s—not—It’s complicated,” said Yohji. “Go to him, Aya. He needs you. I’ll—I’ll—“

“We’ll discuss this later,” said Aya, rising, and it seemed to Yohji waiting. Then blushing, he realized what Aya was waiting for and stood up himself.

“Ah, I’ll see you Monday,” he said.

“No,” said Aya, “Stay home till we contact you.”

“Ok. Thanks, Aya. Tell him I’m sorry,” he said miserably.

Aya simply nodded, but didn’t move. Yohji went out the door shutting it. Great! Now he not only was depressed because he wasn’t having sex and he was a little in love with a man that did evil things, but also because he’d devastated his friends and possible lost their friendship. Would this break up Weiss? What would he do if Weiss ended? He’d leave Japan for one thing. He laughed—he’d head for Hong Kong and look for a man with blue spiky hair. Fuck, he was like an addict. But no, he wouldn’t. He knew what Schul endured as a master telepathy—it would drive most men mad. The odds were that blue guy was insane, heterosexual, and evil through and through. And he’d never believe a fellow assassin was looking for sex! Yeah right! He would rip out Yohji’s mind and cast him into that void of voices, let him go mad, never able to find himself again.

It started pouring, the rain hitting Yohji’s car windows. Some lightening lit the sky, and it only made it harder for Yohji to both drive and think positively. When he pulled into his parking spot, he noticed a familiar red sports car—Schuldig’s car! `Hurry in,’ purred a voice in his mind. `A beautiful Balinese kitten like you shouldn’t be out in the rain.’

All his feelings raced out along the link between them, and Yohji tried to pull them back, to put up that wall he’d been practicing doing. But Schuldig’s mind just surged into his as if he had done nothing. But he felt no rejection, no angry, no fear, just longing and pleasure and desire. `Come, kitten,’ whispered Schuldig, `come in and let me dry you.’

Yohji climbed the stairs to his second-floor apartment and walked over to his door. As he got there it opened, he was tugged in, his back pinned to the closed door. Memories of them making love at this door flooded them, and they kissed wildly, pulling at each other’s clothes. And then there in Yohji’s mind was a vision of the future—of his coming home to be pulled into the strong arms around him, stripped, and fucked against the door when he was in jogging clothing, his uniform, sexy outfits, a heavy winter coat, and—oh dear god, was that a thong bikini?

“If a tool works, why get a new one?” said Shuldig as he shoved a lubed finger in Yohji’s asshole. They moaned together at how good it felt to them. “I’m just using you, but you use good. I don’t plan to stop using you unless you break.”

The happiness that seemed just be there, everywhere, made Yohji shudder and cry out, “Schuldig!”

“Yes, kitten, that’s it, cry my name out,” said Schuldig.

“I’m using you, too,” gasped out Yohji, but that vision he’d had of them together was back in his mind again.

“I know, you’re using me for those silly romantic fantasies of yours, Kudoh,” said Schuldig. “That’s ok; I don’t mind,” he said as he pushed another finger.

And the happiness thickened and sweetened between them, honey-thick, rich, revitalizing. `What is this?’ asked Yohji, as in their minds they were fucking in the thick fluid.

`This is us, together,’ came the whispered response—but wordlessly Yohji knew what was it was and knew that Schuldig knew and that there was no need to ever say aloud even in their minds what it was.

“Why aren’t you inside me, Carrots?” whined Yohji aloud, tearing at Schuldig’s shirt.

“Such a slutty pussy, you are, Balinese,” replied the German, pulling his fingers out of Yohji and lubing up his cock. “I’m going to use you as my pussy and fuck that sweet ass of yours all night.”

They moaned together as memories of their fucking tumbled in their minds. “Please sleep with your cock in me tonight,” begged Yohji.

“In you how?” teased the man now pushing into Yohji’s tight ass.

“With your big cock up my ass stretching me, so you can fuck me without preparation the next morning.”

“Only if you serve me Frühstückswurst and cream for breakfast afterwards, kitten,” said Schuldig as his cock pushed into Yohji’s prostate and made him throw back his head and cry out.

“Yes, yes, I’ll give it to you; I’ll give you whatever you want,” cried out Yohji.

“Ah, then I want to play with the riding crop we got,” purred Schuldig.

“No! No fair!” moaned Yohji, but Schuldig just laughed. They both could feel the way Yohji’s desire had spiked at that statement.

The night was a cold, wet one, and thunder and lightening crashed over the city. But inside Yohji’s apartment, it was heat and passion, need and that richness that was more than happiness. They lay on the bed, spooning with Schuldig’s cock softening in Yohji’s ass and the blonde’s spent cock inside the German’s large fist. Sleepy, Schuldig whispered in Yohji’s ear, “I’m just using you, kitten.”

Yohji smiled and snuggled back into the warmth of his orange-haired lover. “I know, Carrots, I know. I’m just using you too. You make a good heater and pillow, Schul,” he added.

`Don’t call me, Carrots,’ growled Schuldig in Yohj’s mind, `or I’ll take the crop to your ass again in the morning.’

`Ooooh, I’m so scared, Carrots,’ retorted Yohji, projecting an image of himself in a bunny suit licking a very large and thick carrot. `I just love your carrot, baby.’

Schuldig snorted, but in their minds he jerked the carrot away from Yohji, flipped him over his lap and shoved that carrot right inside the pink pucker beneath the fluffy bunny tail. His own cock stiffened inside Yohji, and he rocked back and forth a bit. He felt the desire increasing in his lover and began a soft slow fucking.

`God, baby, use me! Use me!’ begged Yohji squirming and trying to speed up the pace.

“I will, baby, I will.”

Crawford sat up and shook his head. It was 3 a.m. and the storm had stopped, but it was still raining gently. The vision had been confusing and was worrisome. It was different from the last vision about Schuldig, but this one, too had shown him dying a violent death. He grabbed his cell phone and called Schuldig, but he must have had his phone off. Concerned he went looking for Farfarello and Nagi. They gathered in the kitchen, and Crawford poured himself some scotch, Nagi got a glass of milk, and Farfarello, a bottle of cold water.

“I had another vision in which Schuldig died a violent death, but this one was incredibly unusual. I’d like your opinion on it,” Brad said. “Schuldig was naked in a strange bedroom. He was brushing his hair, and it got longer and wrapped around him. Suddenly he became a giant carrot. A beast, a dog-sized rabbit, came through the window and leaped at him, biting him, taking chunks out him. Then the entire top of the carrot blew up in an explosion. When the orange mist cleared, there was Schuldig naked, lying still on the bed. I’ve never had a vision involving transformation and mutants like this. It was very different from the vision in which Schuldig was shot, which was a fairly normal one. I can’t reach Schuldig on his phone. Any suggestions?”

“Kudoh,” said Farfarello.

“Nagi?” asked Brad. That was all that was needed. Although the number was unlisted, it didn’t take Nagi long to find it out. Calling on a speaker phone, the three members of Schwartz heard an answering machine pick up. Nagi kept searching on his computer from leads on mutant animals.

“This is Brad Crawford, and I need to speak to Schuldig. I’ve had a vision, and he might be in danger. If you can—“

“Bradley, I’m not going to be shot,” said Schuldig’s voice suddenly, sleepy and annoyed. “I can assure you that Kudoh Yohji isn’t going to reject me.”

“How nice,” said the precognitive, “but this vision involves you being attacked by a mutant and blown up.”

“Was there a time? A place?” asked the telepath, his apathy clear.

“I believe it occurs tonight, or in a few days at most. It’s a rainy night. It took place in a bedroom, an ordinary one, blue walls, beige carpet.”

Schuldig looked around at the blue walls of his lover’s bedroom and the beige carpet. He could hear the rain outside. “Bradley, I’m in that room now. What sort of mutant, what sort of explosives?” he asked, his voice now alert and full of worry. “I’m putting this on speaker.”

“Fine, Balinese can help. Ah, a giant rabbit and unexplosives unknown, Mastermind. Perhaps Bombay can help Prodigy with the search on for information on the mutants.” Youji’s voice was heard giving a phone number. Farfarello dialed it on his cellphone and put the earpiece on Nagi’s ear.

“I’m searching the minds in the area, Oracle, nothing usual.”

The sound of a phone ringing in Kudoh’s apartment was heard by all. They could hear only Youji’s side of the conversation, but it was clear that it was Balinese confirming to Abyssinian that this was a genuine threat, one of Oracle's visions of an explosion that would happen in Youji’s bedroom killing Schuldig.

“Dammit, Aya, if he kills another of Omi’s lovers that is harmless, I’ll kill—I’ll try—look, I’ll fucking know why he did it, and if it isn’t a good reason, I promise I’ll try to kill him.”

“Give me that phone, kitten,” demanded Schuldig. “I won’t kill any of Yohji’s loved ones, Aya. I like his mind honey sweet, not bitter. And if he’s fucking killed because of you wasting time worrying about me, I promise you, you will die with me in your mind. No one hurts my kitten.”

There was silence save for Nagi’s fingers on the keyboard for a while as everyone listening wrapped their minds around that. “Yohji,” said Schuldig, “Join deep with me as I search; you know this area better than I do. Bradley, we need more details.”

“The vision involved you also mutating into a carrot prior to the attack, and then once bitten, you exploded. More precisely, the top of you. The end of the vision was you lying still. It wasn’t clear if you were—are you laughing, Schuldig? Is that Kudoh laughing too? This is serious, Schuldig! Twice I’ve had visions of you getting wounded, perhaps fatally.”

“Relax, Oracle, your vision already came true,” said Schuldig, his voice sensual and full of humor. “My little bunny, Yohji-chan, ate my carrot and blew my top off. Go to bed, Bradley. Sweet Dreams!”

Collective groans of horror burst from the rest of Schwarz, echoed by Aya and Omi who were listening intently via Yohji’s phone, which was also on speaker. Even more horrifying was the sound of the growls and panting and gasps, that suggested to the listeners—“Schuldig!” came a cry from Yohji, and none of them needed a visual to understand that Mastermind was fucking his Balinese kitten. With a curse, Farfarello threw one of his knives into wall just as Nagi turned off the phone.

“Farfarello?” asked Crawford.

“He’s going to broadcast THAT again,” whined Farfarello. “It makes my dick get big and hurt, and I don’t like it. It makes me want to kill, but it hurts to walk, so I don’t.”

“Masturbate, Berserker,” snapped Crawford, grabbing the bottle of scotch and leaving for his bedroom with a scowl.

Farfarello was still cursing and now muttering as he cut away the crotch of the cotton exercise pants he’d been sleeping in. “Look what that bastard did to me,” he whined.

Nagi looked. It was a thin, but very long cock, and it was covered with piercings and what were either scars or tattoos. Nagi’s favorite vibrator was a long thin one with metal balls set up and down the sides. Lust filled him, and he said, trying to make his voice sound annoyed, “Yeah, look, I have the same problem. Hey, if masturbation is a pain, I know something we could do that might, ah, help.”

Farfarello gave him a look of fierce suspicion. Nagi licked his lips. “Hey, ah, we’ll just use each other for a little relief, ok? Come on, come to my room. I’ll make it go away,” coaxed Nagi.

“I’m just doing this cause of my cock,” insisted Farfarello.

“Me too, me too,” said Nagi.


Later, back in Yohji’s apartment, the tall blonde was lying on his side with Schuldig curled behind him, softening inside him. The telepathy was simply holding onto to Yohji’s flaccid cock, sucking and nipping at one shoulder blade. In their minds, they simply were basking in that thick golden fluid. `Hey, Carrots,’ whispered Yohji mentally.

`Yes, my usagi-chan?’

`Nobody hurts my Carrots either.’

`You better not bite them and blow their minds away, little bunny!’

`No, I’d garrote them, like I’d like to garrote a lot of the people that already hurt you. But then again if your life had gone differently, you might not be here.’

`And you like me here, don’t you, kitten?’

`I’m just using you, Schuldig,’ said Yohji's mental voice, but the thick golden fluid around them sparkled and tingled making them both sigh at how good that felt. Shocks of pleasure rippled through their bodies making them both quiver. Their cocks began to stir to life as the golden liquid bubbled, and a thick creamy foam tingled over their bodies, turning the quivers into deep shudders.

“Oh, baby,” groaned Schuldig, “me too, me too! And I’m going to use you again right now . . .”

And there in their minds was the sense that this liquid pleasure rocking them was like an ocean, and it would ebb and flow each day like the tides, day after day, year after year . . .

A tiny piece of Yohji’s mind worried that Schuldig would panic and run.

`Bad kitty,’ scolded the voice he loved, `look how you’ve made a dry, dark spot. When I’m using you, I want all of you just like I’m giving you all of me.’

`That sounds like love to me, Schuldig,’ Yohji couldn’t help his mind thinking.

The dry, dark spot stopped shrinking for a second before Schuldig shrugged, `Semantics, kitten! Whatever, just let it go. Purr for me, Balinese.’

And the spot disappeared and the foam exploded, releasing shining bubbles into the air. Their pleasure seemed to double, then triple, and they cried out together, riding the waves crashing through them. And in the bedroom, the room filled with the sounds that lovers have always made.

In the apartment below, the lonely man woke, groaning. He was going to move. His perfect neighbor had turned into the neighbor from hell now that he had a regular lover. The two fucked like bunnies, nonstop. It was driving him insane, and his wrist was positively sore. He hated people in love—abruptly the man blacked out.

`Schul!’

`He was broadcasting too loudly, baby. Now tell me what you want me to do to your little tits again.’

`Schul! Schul!’

`Baby, you’re so kinky!’

“Ahhhhhh!”

It was a good thing Mastermind could send minds into sleep because loud screaming at 3:30 a.m. was definitely grounds for terminating a rental agreement. `Relax, kitten, if you get kicked out, I’ll help you find a better place. One we can put up a sex swing in.'

`Promise?’

`Promise.’

And drifting into sleep, the two assassins wore identical smiles. They had very sweet dreams indeed.


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