Strange Times

Yohji’s apartment smelled of cologne, cigarettes, and the incense burned to cover the cigarettes. All in all, it was a bachelor pad sort of smell, and Schuldich decided it was oddly appropriate. All it needed was at least one or two dirty dishes hanging around, maybe a shirt casually wadded and resting on an innocent chair. No single male had any business being that…meticulously organized. Aya just didn’t have that many things, and had a pleasantly anal retentive obsessive compulsive personality. Yohji had accumulated a lifetimes worth of knickknacks and useless clutter, without allowing it to actually clutter anything up. It was fascinating.



“Schuldich, stop it.”



A pair of health balls chimed cheerily from a bookcase as Schuldich poked at them before looking up.



Aya frowned, noting the lines around Schuldich’s eyes, the tightness to his cat-with-the-canary smirk.



“Oh, stop it. It’s just a headache.” Schuldich waved a dismissive hand and went back to his exploration of Yohji’s private space.



“Schuldich….”



“I said its nothing to worry about. Hell, you try killing a few men with your mind. It’s a workout. And considering I was already hung-over as hell, the headache was inevitable. C’mon, help me find Yohji’s porn stash.” Blue eyes glittered with a singularly unhealthy mix of pain and mischief as Schuldich started poking around under Yohji’s couch.



A hand on his shoulder, the concern that spiked from Aya and through his headache, sent Schuldich rounding on Aya with a nasty sort of smile, his temper really not up to playing nice, all things considered. If Aya was so dead set on trying to take care of him…“Küss küss” He breathed through clenched teeth, a dare more than a request or suggestion.



Aya had just about run out of patience with Schuldich’s moods, his determined refusal to admit to any sort of weakness or need. There was no predicting, no reading, and no dealing with the telepath in any civilized sort of way, not when they were both already looking for an excuse to fight. So Aya met teeth with teeth, more than willing to take Schuldich up on his challenge. There was a slight scuffle, which might have passed as a twisted brand of foreplay, as both men tried to take charge of the situation. Knees were planted in strategic immobilizing moves, blood was drawn in a feral parody of sensuality as teeth bit into necks and throats, arms were pinned, and Aya ended up on top, panting.



Schuldich glared up at him, lips parted and painted with some of Aya’s blood from a particularly effective and well placed snap, chest heaving with furious indignation. For all the flip and the flirt, Schuldich was ragged, a combination of his own ghosts and Kritiker’s determination to get rid of him, and Aya wasn’t of the mind to let Schuldich pass it off as nothing. A fey, bloodied beauty; Schuldich struggled intermittently against Aya’s hold, eyes narrowed.



“If I let you up, will you relax and watch some damn TV?”



Schuldich went limp, every muscle relaxing in a suspicious submission. ‘Sure.’



Aya smiled tightly. Schuldich’s telepathy slid through him with all the loving intent of a death threat. Leaning down, careful to keep Schuldich’s arms firmly against the floor, pinning his hips down with a bit more force than necessary, and with a bit of very unnecessary grinding, Aya brushed a light kiss across Schuldich’s bloodied lips. “Try not to get blood on any of Yohji’s things.” And then Aya pulled up and back.



“Oh, but he would assume such interesting things.” Schuldich purred, taking the time to stretch with feral sensuality before pulling himself off the floor. “We couldn’t do anything to match his brain. Trust me. The imagination on that man…” Headache wandered through humor, and Schuldich eyed the couch, caught between an honest desire to sit on something comfortable and a reflexive avoidance of orders.



“I don’t know why I put up with you.” Aya sighed, rubbing the back of his hand across his lips as his fastidious nature kicked in, not at all pleased by his impromptu lip gloss.



“I’m pretty to look at.” Schuldich explained, hauling himself onto the couch and collapsing back against worn cushions with a content hum.



Aya eyed Schuldich and, after deeming the telepath safe for the moment, settled on the couch beside him. He hurt in muscles that had no business complaining and had bites on areas he was going to have trouble explaining off as battle wounds, not badges of sexual prowess.



“Take the sexual compliment and run with it.”



“Stay out of my head.” Aya muttered reflexively, embarrassed.



“Can’t.”



“Damn.”



They stared at the television for a few moments before Schuldich finally gave in and actually turned it on. Aya claimed control of the remote when Schuldich tried to watch some inane game show and proceeded to flick through stations with the short attention span of the truly exhausted. He tried not to draw attention to the fact Schuldich had taken to leaning up against him, and did his best not to smile when Schuldich began to snore.



Curled up on Yohji’s couch with his enemy-turned-touchy-lover, Aya tried very hard not to think about what Yohji might have used such a comfortable piece of furniture for in the past…



A bit of laughter ghosted through Aya’s mind as Schuldich wormed his way closer, and Aya winced as Schuldich tossed a bit of what he was dreaming about Aya’s way. Aya was curled up on Yohji’s couch with his asshole lover, trying very hard to ignore the sexual adventures Schuldich was merrily tossing around in his stressed, sleepy mind. Trying very hard to ignore the erection it was inspiring.



He was not going to have sex in his teammate’s apartment. He just wasn’t.



No matter how much Schuldich thought it would be a hilarious idea.