Strange Times
folder
Wei� Kreuz › General
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
50
Views:
4,180
Reviews:
22
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Wei� Kreuz › General
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
50
Views:
4,180
Reviews:
22
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
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.
24
Aya was almost willing to dig through Schuldich’s meager belongings in search for some hidden bottle of scent. Cinnamon tangled with sweat and sex, giving Aya’s previously almost offensively sterile bedroom an expensive whore sort of ambiance. All that was missing were some distressingly tacky articles of clothing scattered across the floor. Maybe a sock hanging from a lamp with a jaunty sort of insolence.
Schuldich, face planted in one of Aya’s least lumpy pillows, chuckled as he caught the edge of Aya’s contented, sluggish thoughts. ‘If you so much as move to put a wad of cash on the nightstand I am knocking you out.’
‘Hands to yourself’ was a familiar command. ‘Mind to yourself’ was becoming an almost reflexive demand. Aya ran a hand down Schuldich’s back, tracing the telepath’s spine, and wondered when his life had taken such a drastic plunge from normal.
‘Yes. Because your previous few years were completely normal. A little to the left, if you wouldn’t mind.’ Schuldich’s mental voice was thick with something dangerously close to happiness. ‘Keep that observation to yourself.’ Schuldich grumbled, catching the smile that was tugging at the corner of Aya’s mouth. ‘I have a vicious, snarky reputation to keep.’
Bedside banter with the Mastermind of Schwartz. On one hand, Aya wanted to bury this mistake somewhere dark and deep, where no one would find the body. On the other…
On the other he was almost alright with the sensation of a warm body lounging next to him, smelling of spice and sex. He was oddly relaxed, could almost feel his muscles unclenching with each obviously pleased breath that Schuldich half smothered into his pillow. He had left lines down Schuldich’s back with his nails, purpling welts with his teeth…
And damn, if Yohji could entertain a new woman with each phase of the moon, he was entitled to his own bad habit. Omi was a Takatori. Schwartz was no more. All the lines had been blurred already. What was a little fling with a former enemy?
“A fling, am I?”
Aya looked down, meeting Schuldich’s one visible eye. There was a depth of icy displeasure in Schuldich’s silence as he stared up at Aya, waiting. Unfortunately, Aya was not used to having to explain his words, much less his thoughts, and was caught at a rather awkward and unfamiliar loss. He paused in his exploration of Schuldich’s back, scrambling for something to say that wasn’t an apology but would make the tension in the small room ease back into languid contentment.
A knock at the door wasn’t exactly the distraction he wanted. Two assassins already on edge tensed, and then Schuldich snorted and rolled over. “It’s for you.”
“Of course. I live here.” Aya sat up fully, frowning. “Who is it?”
Unless Schuldich had mastered the art of falling asleep at whim, the telepath was playing at being irritatingly difficult. Aya shook his head, slid out of bed, and hauled his clothes back on as he made his way to the apartment door.
“Ayan? You in there?”
Aya slipped the door open just enough to scowl out at a very uncomfortable looking Yohji. “Yes?”
“Ah…hey, Omi got back and we were thinking we would go get some dinner…”
“And?”
“Well, we were wondering if you wanted to join us. The whole gang and everything.” Yohji scratched at his head, an embarrassed brand of grin on his face. “We felt bad about today and all.”
“Beat it.” Schuldich growled, emerging from the bedroom wearing Aya’s favorite comforter. Aya turned his head to tell the telepath to leave them alone, giving Yohji enough visual space to satisfy his curiosity.
Schuldich met Yohji’s eyes, smiled, and let the blanket drop just enough to let Yohji know there were no pants involved in Schuldich’s current state of dress. Or undress really. Schuldich’s smirk as he tilted his face invitingly pulled at the bruise Yohji had left along one high cheekbone, and highlighted the bite marks Aya had left along his neck.
“Schuldich.” Aya snarled, embarrassed and offended, and feeling oddly possessive.
‘Now I feel better.’ Schuldich laughed. He gathered his blanket back around his lean form with an almost prim attention to detail. ‘A fling, am I?’ There was a bit more hip swaying than necessary involved in Schuldich’s stroll back to the bedroom. “I’ll be waiting.” The telepath called out before passing out of view.
“I guess we’ll do dinner some other time.” Yohji drew back. “Looks like you have your hands full.”
Aya wanted his hands to be full of Schuldich’s neck. “Apparently.”
“We’ll call.”
“Do that.” Aya slammed the door shut, grinding out a word he sincerely hoped his sister never heard. And hoped the door had blocked enough of his anatomy to hide the fact Schuldich’s little show had gotten him worked up on many levels.
What the hell had he gotten himself in to?
Schuldich, face planted in one of Aya’s least lumpy pillows, chuckled as he caught the edge of Aya’s contented, sluggish thoughts. ‘If you so much as move to put a wad of cash on the nightstand I am knocking you out.’
‘Hands to yourself’ was a familiar command. ‘Mind to yourself’ was becoming an almost reflexive demand. Aya ran a hand down Schuldich’s back, tracing the telepath’s spine, and wondered when his life had taken such a drastic plunge from normal.
‘Yes. Because your previous few years were completely normal. A little to the left, if you wouldn’t mind.’ Schuldich’s mental voice was thick with something dangerously close to happiness. ‘Keep that observation to yourself.’ Schuldich grumbled, catching the smile that was tugging at the corner of Aya’s mouth. ‘I have a vicious, snarky reputation to keep.’
Bedside banter with the Mastermind of Schwartz. On one hand, Aya wanted to bury this mistake somewhere dark and deep, where no one would find the body. On the other…
On the other he was almost alright with the sensation of a warm body lounging next to him, smelling of spice and sex. He was oddly relaxed, could almost feel his muscles unclenching with each obviously pleased breath that Schuldich half smothered into his pillow. He had left lines down Schuldich’s back with his nails, purpling welts with his teeth…
And damn, if Yohji could entertain a new woman with each phase of the moon, he was entitled to his own bad habit. Omi was a Takatori. Schwartz was no more. All the lines had been blurred already. What was a little fling with a former enemy?
“A fling, am I?”
Aya looked down, meeting Schuldich’s one visible eye. There was a depth of icy displeasure in Schuldich’s silence as he stared up at Aya, waiting. Unfortunately, Aya was not used to having to explain his words, much less his thoughts, and was caught at a rather awkward and unfamiliar loss. He paused in his exploration of Schuldich’s back, scrambling for something to say that wasn’t an apology but would make the tension in the small room ease back into languid contentment.
A knock at the door wasn’t exactly the distraction he wanted. Two assassins already on edge tensed, and then Schuldich snorted and rolled over. “It’s for you.”
“Of course. I live here.” Aya sat up fully, frowning. “Who is it?”
Unless Schuldich had mastered the art of falling asleep at whim, the telepath was playing at being irritatingly difficult. Aya shook his head, slid out of bed, and hauled his clothes back on as he made his way to the apartment door.
“Ayan? You in there?”
Aya slipped the door open just enough to scowl out at a very uncomfortable looking Yohji. “Yes?”
“Ah…hey, Omi got back and we were thinking we would go get some dinner…”
“And?”
“Well, we were wondering if you wanted to join us. The whole gang and everything.” Yohji scratched at his head, an embarrassed brand of grin on his face. “We felt bad about today and all.”
“Beat it.” Schuldich growled, emerging from the bedroom wearing Aya’s favorite comforter. Aya turned his head to tell the telepath to leave them alone, giving Yohji enough visual space to satisfy his curiosity.
Schuldich met Yohji’s eyes, smiled, and let the blanket drop just enough to let Yohji know there were no pants involved in Schuldich’s current state of dress. Or undress really. Schuldich’s smirk as he tilted his face invitingly pulled at the bruise Yohji had left along one high cheekbone, and highlighted the bite marks Aya had left along his neck.
“Schuldich.” Aya snarled, embarrassed and offended, and feeling oddly possessive.
‘Now I feel better.’ Schuldich laughed. He gathered his blanket back around his lean form with an almost prim attention to detail. ‘A fling, am I?’ There was a bit more hip swaying than necessary involved in Schuldich’s stroll back to the bedroom. “I’ll be waiting.” The telepath called out before passing out of view.
“I guess we’ll do dinner some other time.” Yohji drew back. “Looks like you have your hands full.”
Aya wanted his hands to be full of Schuldich’s neck. “Apparently.”
“We’ll call.”
“Do that.” Aya slammed the door shut, grinding out a word he sincerely hoped his sister never heard. And hoped the door had blocked enough of his anatomy to hide the fact Schuldich’s little show had gotten him worked up on many levels.
What the hell had he gotten himself in to?