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30 lemons challenge	By : aionwatha Category: Weiß Kreuz > General Views: 2202 -:- Recommendations : 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.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
Pairing/Fandom: Schuldig x Ken (Weiß Kreuz)

Theme: #4 - The Thrill of the Forbidden

Title: Halleluiah, Lock and Load.

Author/Artist: Aionwatha

Disclaimer: Weiss Kreuz and its
characters do not belong to me. I’m borrowing them for a bit of fun.

Note: Ok, this fic took me
forever to write. Really. I think I spent like.. two months on it? Ew. But with
the finals, project and research deadlines, graduation, then the new job and
everything, I think I had good reasons to be slow. >_>;;

Ken was distracted.

It wasn’t a good thing that Ken was distracted
right now, seeing how he was trying to make sure Farfarello wouldn’t be able to
rip him to shreds. The Berserker of Schwarz was a fierce opponent, fast and
deadly.

There again.

Ken nearly missed the
knife that was coming to his throat, raising his fist at the last moment to
block the blade with his bugnucks. He tried twisting his hand to disarm the
Irishman, but Farfarello’s other hand came out with another knife and Ken had
to jump out of his way.

He bumped into someone
and barely had the time to look over his shoulder to see the tall flaming
redhead telepath before Farfarello was on him again with a high-pitched yell
that set his teeth on edge. He dodged out of the way, away from the other
Schwarz too, hoping whoever was fighting with him was enough to keep him from
attacking Ken too. He had enough of Farfarello already.

Especially since…

“Ken-kun!”

Three darts zipped past
him, embedding themselves into the madman’s chest. It didn’t slow him down whatsoever,
but it brought Ken’s focus back on him alright. Ken blocked the kick that was
coming his way, but the Irishman grabbed his hair and pulled – hard.

Ken winced and tried to
make a swipe at him with his claws, but Farfarello only grabbed his hair tighter
and pulled him back, making his head snap back painfully. Ken hissed and tried
to glare at the man, but Farfarello was just regarding him thoughtfully, the
tip of his knife pressed against his throat.

Ken glared silently,
not daring to move, and Farfarello just looked at him from his one golden eye,
not seeming to care to move. He tapped the tip of his knife against Ken’s
throat, and it took all of Ken’s will not to flinch. He would not show him any fear.

The pale man had an
eerie smile and suddenly let go. Ken nearly lost his balance and cursed softly.
Farfarello disappeared in a dark corridor and Ken looked confusedly around. Omi
was wiping blood from the side of his mouth, panting softly. Aya sheathed his
sword as Youji shook his head. “What the--?!”

“We had better get out
of here,” interrupted Omi. “If Schwarz left before killing any of us, it’s a
bad sign.”

He prepared more darts,
just in case, and started walking carefully back towards the entrance. Ken
followed.

“Think they put explosives
to blow the building?”

Youji snorted next to
him. “It’s Schwarz, Ken. They don’t need
explosives with that little freak boy of theirs.”

Ken looked back and
only met Aya’s cool eyes. He sighed, turning back to watch where he was going.

They made it out
perfectly fine, and if Schwarz was still around, there was no sign of any of
them. They split up, Youji and Aya using Youji’s car and Ken and Omi going to
their bikes. The ride home was long and seemed even longer to Ken who just
wanted to curl up in bed.

The first thing he did
was take a shower, then he let himself fall onto the bed with a sigh. He stared
up at the ceiling, sighing again. This sucked. He nearly had his ass kicked to
hell today. And for what? For staring at something that was out of reach,
something he could never have. It was more and more distracting. He was more and more distracting.

Ken kept looking for
him out of the corner of his eyes, admiring the grace in his fluid movements,
his strength, his speed, his tall, wiry frame, his flaming hair.. And so he had
been an all too easy prey to Farfarello’s crazy attacks.

He didn’t know how or
why this whole.. thing had started. But
it was getting out of control.

Of all the people.. Why Schuldig?!

He remembered once grabbing the man’s wrist and
pushing it away to prevent him from shooting at Aya. His momentum had sent him
much closer to the telepath he had intended to be. He had raised his eyes to
meet the cool, pale ones of his enemy. He remembered his eyes widening when he
realized the man had clear, blue
eyes. Not dark, wide blue eyes like Omi’s. No. Clear, intense, cold. To his
shame, he had blushed. Facing his mortal enemy in combat, he had blushed!

“Stupid,” he muttered to himself, “very
stupid.” He curled up on his side, still replaying the scene in his head.

Schuldig’s mouth had slowly pulled into a grin,
more of a smirk, and Ken had promptly pulled away, flustered and ashamed. Since
then, he kept noticing the man in ways he didn’t mean to. And the most
embarrassing thing of all this was that Schuldig knew.

Oh, it’s not like he said anything. But it
showed in the amused smirks and grins he threw at Ken whenever he caught him
staring. Like earlier. Ken snuggled into his pillow. He hated how he reacted to
that German bastard. He hated how he seemed to lose his control when face to face
with him. And he hated how amused the telepath looked. Like earlier, when he
bumped into him.

He could swear
he saw Schuldig wink at him.

Damn.

---

The next morning, Ken
woke up with his alarm clock blaring the latest pop song loud into his little
room.

“Koi wo shiyo yo! Rabu
rabu biimu~&hearts;!” sang the cute little pop idol voice.

“Oh, shut up!” he
growled at it, a little resentful at having to wake up, and wake up to the
sound of such rubbish at that. “Love-love beam, my ass!”

That made him feel a
little better at least and he decided it wasn’t worth the trouble to slam his
fist down on the poor electronic device after all, or throw it against the far
wall. He pushed the button to turn it off and rubbed his eyes.

He really didn’t feel
like getting up this morning.

Finally, he got up and
out of bed, groaning a little at the tension in his muscles. Damn but that
freaky Schwarz psychopath was a bitch to fight against! He took another shower
and put his clothes on, then went to take his shift in the shop.

Youji was there
already, sitting at the table where they made flower arrangements, slumped
forward with his chin propped on it and his hands holding onto a mug of coffee.
He seemed to be feeling miserable, which meant of course that he had to go and
make Ken even more miserable just so he could feel better.

“So~~~! Kenken~!” he
drawled. “What beautiful thing haunted your dreams last night? You look like
you really need a good lay. Was it a shapely blonde? Or a nice redhead with
long hair and a cheeky grin?”

Ken blushed nearly
instantly, cursing mentally Youji for hitting so close to home. “It’s none of
your business!” he snapped. Youji suddenly perked up, and Ken realized he had
just given himself away. Damn it!

“Oh~?!” Youji had a
lazy grin. “Who is it? Manx? Good choice! She’s-”

“Idiot!” Ken turned his
back on him and went to the coffee pot, pouring himself some. The scalding hot
liquid felt awesome and he was waking up slowly. He nearly felt like he could
face the day and Youji’s teasing now.

Nearly.

By the time Manx showed
up at the shop, she nearly had to pry him off of Youji’s neck. Well, not
really, but Ken sure was picturing himself strangling the lanky blonde and
enjoying every minute of it. In reality, what he was strangling was a broom
that had long stopped sweeping the floor, and was about to be raised up as a
weapon.

Omi and Aya got back
and they all trooped down to the basement. The target they had missed the night
before had been trailed back to another hideout, and they were to go after him
again.

So far so good…

The place was thought
secure and wouldn’t be too heavily guarded. The problem was the security
system, but Ken knew Omi’d take care of it. He always did. So all Ken would
have to worry about was getting ready, going there, and killing the bastard.
Manx left and Omi went to work on the best plan to succeed in the mission and
Ken went back up with Youji and Aya to man the flowershop until closing time.

Things went smoothly
and Ken went back upstairs when the shop was finally closed. He skipped dinner
– a few bad experiences in the past had him make sure he had as little as
possible in his stomach before a mission.

They left on time,
arrived on time, but didn’t make it inside on time. It turned out the security
system was much harder to crack than Omi had planned and they all shifted
nervously in the shadows as Omi worked his magic onto his little handy laptop.
Well all of them except Aya, of course. Aya did not shift nervously from one foot to the other, he just stood
there, cool as you please, and Ken resisted the urge to glare at him; Aya’s
glares were much scarier than his own, after all. Life sucked.

Finally, they made
their way inside, and as Manx had told them, they encountered no resistance. It
was like the whole place was completely deserted.

“Ken-kun, you have to
watch the first floor so take your post,” Omi whispered urgently.

Oh yeah, because Ken
was not the one doing the killing tonight. It was Aya who was to go for the
kill. The tall swordsman always had to get the dramatic entrances and
everything. Ken huffed and took his position dutifully as the others left and
went up to the second level.

Ken hated waiting.

He was bored.

Actually, he nearly
wondered where Schwarz were. At least fighting them was something. Better than waiting anyway. Thoughts turned to the damn
good looking telepath again and he cursed himself for a bloody idiot. The man
was the enemy for cryin’ out loud!!

“I’m flattered,
kitten.”

Ken all but jumped out
of his skin, whirling around and slashing the man across the chest. Schuldig
was farther than he anticipated however, and though his claws ripped through
his jacket and shirt, it barely grazed the skin under it. The man caught his
wrist easily, yanking on it. Ken found himself close to the telepath. Very close.

“You need to get
declawed, kitten.”

The telepath held his
hand higher and very calmly tugged on each finger of Ken’s glove, tugging it
free and throwing it at Ken’s chest. The younger assassin caught it with his
left hand, taking a step back, but Schuldig was still holding onto his right
wrist and pulled him forward again. Ken cursed softly as he was trapped between
Schuldig’s chest and the arm around his waist, feeling his cheeks heat up at
the proximity of the other man.

“I heard you were
looking for me?” Schuldig’s smile was positively wolfish.

“I-I was not!” Ken felt compelled to deny, even
though he knew it was useless. The guy was a telepath for crying out loud! What
the hell could you do against that?

“Nothing!” Schuldig
replied helpfully, grinning for all he was worth. Ken glared. The telepath
rolled his eyes, snorting softly. “Oh, please. Spare me the tough act. I know
just what you’re thinking.”

“Oh yeah? So what is
it?”

Ken knew he’d made a
mistake the minute he saw Schuldig’s lips pull into a wide, satisfied smirk.

“You’re thinking you
want me to pull you inside this office..” Schuldig backed into an office,
letting go of Ken’s waist to open the door behind him, pulling Ken inside and
slamming it after the both of them. “…turn you around…” He spun the younger
assassin around and Ken felt a sharp pain in his lower back as it hit something
hard. “And fuck you right here on this desk.” He suddenly let go of Ken’s right
wrist and grabbed his ass, pulling him up roughly to sit onto the desk. He
leaned down, face hovering just inches from Ken’s, hands propped on the desk on
either side of him. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

Ken had a feeling if
his eyes were any wider, they’d pop out of his head. He was blushing floridly
and his heart was pounding. “I.. I don’t— You’re.. I can’t.”

Schuldig grinned. “And
why not?”

“Cause I can’t! You’re
the enemy, we’re in the middle of a mission, you’re a guy, it-it-it’s wrong!”

The grin went up a
notch. “So what? All the more fun!”

Ken blinked, feeling
his arguments crumble like sand castles. His mouth worked soundlessly, but he
could find nothing to say. Finally, he closed his mouth, teeth clicking
together. Schuldig tilted his head, hooded blue eyes studying him calmly, faint
amusement dancing in the pale blue orbs.

Ken looked away, to the
door, to a potted plant in a corner, back to the other man’s eyes, away again,
towards the door, a painting hung on the wall, the man’s lips, blushing,
wanting, wanting so much.

“So..?” Schuldig wasn’t
moving. He just stood there, leaning forward, so close, so very close, but not
initiating anything, just.. waiting. Ken had the feeling he was going nuts. He
couldn’t! He shouldn’t! He wanted..

He gave in. There was
nothing else he could do, nothing else he wanted to do. Hesitantly, a bit
clumsy in his nervousness, he put a hand on Schuldig’s shoulder and closed his
eyes, pressing his lips against the older man’s. Schuldig let him kiss him,
mouth still pulled into an amused smirk. Ken pulled away, blushing furiously.
He couldn’t believe he had just kissed another man; an enemy at that.

“You call that
‘kissing’?!” Schuldig mocked him. Startled teal colored eyes opened wide, and
Ken felt anger creep into his voice.

“What do you mean?! What else would I call it?!”

Schuldig only smirked wider. “I’ll show you
kissing,” he replied, and then his mouth was on Ken’s, tongue pushing forward,
not even asking for entrance but taking possession of Ken’s mouth, twisting and
rubbing against his, just as the man stepped closer, between his legs, body
flush against his, the heat unbearable.

Ken felt his jaw go
lax, his whole body on overdrive. He felt like he’d just put his fingers in a
socket and felt the electric discharge bolt through him, leaving him dizzy and
disoriented. Schuldig tugged on his lower lip softly with his teeth and Ken
tried to open heavy eyelids to look at him, panting softly. “Wow,” he breathed out
softly. Schuldig gave him a slow, satisfied smirk, licking his lips.

Wrapping his arms a
little more firmly around the other man’s shoulders, Ken pressed forward again,
wanting more of that heat, more tingling, more fiery hot liquid sensation
pooling under his navel. Schuldig indulged him, kissing him again, and Ken
moaned against his mouth, wrapping his legs around the other man’s hips, pulling
him flush against his crotch.

He fervently hoped no
one would come in. He didn’t want this to stop just yet, it felt so good. Schuldig’s amused chuckle vibrated between
them. Strong fingers raked demandingly down his sides. When they came up again,
they were pushing up the fabric of his shirt under his jacket. Schuldig’s hands
were hot on his chest. He made a strangled gasp when the hands reached his
nipples, and the other rubbed his thumbs in circles over them, fingernails
scraping at the side of his back.

Ken
arched against him, tearing his mouth away from the kiss. Bruised, wet lips
parted, he panted, whimpering softly when Schuldig moved his hands away. He
pushed Ken’s jacket off of his shoulders, tugging the other glove off at the
same time. The goggles were roughly pushed over his head and off next, and then
Schuldig was burying his hands in thick brown locks and kissing the younger man
roughly again.

Ken
tugged impatiently at Schuldig’s jacket, wanting it off. His fingers were
shaking, his attempts at unbuttoning the garment were clumsy at best. With a
soft laugh, Schuldig stepped away just enough to undo his jacket and slide it
off of his arms. He took his shirt off next, before returning to Ken. Their
mouth meshed, parted, and met again. Ken felt the other’s fingers slide just
inside the hem of his jeans. The button came loose and the redhead used a finger
hooked over the zipper to slide it down, the finger rubbing down on Ken’s
crotch maddeningly slow. Ken’s fingernails slid down his arms.

Suddenly,
Schuldig stepped away, dragging Ken’s pants and underwear down. Ken leaned back
onto his hands and raised his hips to let the jeans and boxers slide down to
his thighs. He sat back down onto the office desk and raised his legs to allow
the jeans to slide down. It caught at his boots and Schuldig grabbed the back
of his heels and tugged the boots off and the pants soon followed, along with
his boxers.

The
thought of closing his legs to hide himself had barely flicked in Ken’s mind but
Schuldig was moving between them already, forcing them open wide around his
hips. The fabric of his pants was grating against Ken’s inner thighs. His
breath hissed softly as he inhaled sharply. Schuldig smirked at him, digging
into his back pocket, and he waved a small packet of lubricant at him. “Always
come prepared,” he said in an amused voice, “you never know when you’re going
to run into a nice ass.”

He
tore the packet open with his teeth and poured the oil-like substance on his
fingers. He pressed the fingers to Ken’s entrance and the young assassin had
barely the time to gasp that the German’s lips were on his.

He
winced as first one, then two fingers entered him, and he held his breath,
waiting for the pain to fade. And Schuldig bit his lower lip. Hard. Ken made a sound of protest that
was muffled as Schuldig took the opportunity of his open mouth to press his
tongue inside. He started moving his fingers, stretching him fully. Ken
promptly forgot what he was supposed to be protesting against.

Schuldig
lowered his head to his jaw, giving it a lazy suck before scraping his teeth
down the side of his neck. Ken took in a shivering breath. Then the fingers
were removed and he heard Schuldig lowering the zipper of his pants. He screwed
his eyes shut, trying his best to keep breathing evenly.

He
gave a startled yell when he was roughly pulled off of the desk and turned around.
The side of his hip hit the desk painfully and he cursed, but Schuldig was
pressed against his back, leaning forward, placing Ken’s hands on the desk with
his own on top, effectively trapping him. The floor was cold against his bare
feet, but Schuldig at his back was a hot, demanding presence. He finally let go
of Ken’s hands, gripping his hip painfully with one hand. Ken hissed softly as
Schuldig pushed inside. His fingers clutched the side of the desk hard enough
to hurt

Schuldig’s
other hand came to join the first on Ken’s hips, gripping them hard. He blew a
hot breath in Ken’s ear, making the younger man shudder and moan. He gave a
soft, breathless chuckle, then started moving, slowly at first, maddeningly
slow. Ken was ready to bet it wasn’t because he didn’t want to hurt the younger
man, but wanted to torture him. Schuldig laughed again. “What’s wrong kitten?”
he teased him. “Can’t get enough?”

Ken
growled. “You’re going too slow!” He pushed against Schuldig, and the other
laughed. “Why are you laughing?!” Ken wanted to know. “What so funny?!”

“You are,” Schuldig answered easily.
“But don’t worry; by the time I’m done with you, you won’t be able to sit for a
week.”

And
he gave a rough jab of his hips that jolted Ken forward, making him cry out in
surprise, pain, and pleasure. Gripping his hips harder, the German had pulled
away some, then slammed home again. Ken groaned, panting softly. The telepath’s
hands dug painfully into his hips, holding him in place as he pushed into him
repeatedly. The first few thrusts were hard, then they smoothed down some as
Schuldig pushed in a little slower, but going as deep as he could.

It
drove Ken nuts. It was too much and not enough all at the same time. He
whimpered softly, trying to move his hips, but Schuldig wouldn’t let him. He
teased him for a while longer before ramming in again, deep and hard, and Ken
cried out. The German grabbed his chin roughly, turning his head rather
painfully to take possession of his mouth. His tongue thrust inside, sliding
against Ken’s rhythmically, matching the pace he had set where their bodies
joined.

The
younger man groaned, trying to answer in kind, but his mind was pulling in
every direction and it was hard to do anything but move as Schuldig guided him.
The telepath hooked a hand around his thigh, lifting it up to spread Ken
further, and the younger assassin had to cling to the desk not to fall. He
lifted his foot onto the handle of one of the drawers, trying to keep his
balance as Schuldig’s thrusts became harder and faster.

Schuldig’s
other hand left his hip to slide up under Ken’s shirt. His fingers ran over a
nipple, and Ken gave a throaty moan. The telepath ran the tip of his fingers
over it repeatedly in circles, still fucking Ken’s mouth with his tongue. There
was a series of short, shallow thrusts before he pulled nearly all the way out,
then snapped his hips forward again. Ken’s hands gave way, slipping forward on
the hard wood surface, and he hissed in pain as his elbows connected with the
desk painfully. But still Schuldig didn’t stop.

He
was doing him hard now, plunging in and out roughly, and his hands went back to
Ken’s hips to pull them as he thrust forward, impaling him deeply. Bent over
the desk at an awkward angle, Ken could do nothing except groan and pant, hissing
soft praises and begging.

Schuldig
nibbled down the side and back of his neck, then slid to his shoulder. Angling
his hips for deeper thrusts, he bit down on Ken’s shoulder, eliciting a cry of
surprise and pain from the younger man. The duality of pleasure and pain was
too much, and Ken came with a deep growl.

Schuldig
pounded into him harder, his fingers clutching Ken’s hips hard enough to
bruise. A plastic mug full of pens and pencils fell off of the desk with a loud
clatter. Ken cried out, a particular hard thrust jolting him violently forward.
He tensed some, trying to make sure he wouldn’t fall off and hit his chin on
the desk and bite his tongue or something. The tension made him tighter around
Schuldig and it wasn’t long before the telepath came with a soft curse.

Ken
felt the man’s seed deep inside him, and then Schuldig was slumping slightly
against his back. It didn’t last a second, and already, Schuldig was pulling
out and off of him. Ken straightened himself tentatively and turned carefully
towards the other man in time to see a satisfied smirk form on Schuldig’s lips.
The German fixed his pants, then bent over to retrieve his jacket and shirt. He
didn’t put them on though, but fished a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and
took one out. Placing it between his lips, he lit it and blew smoke in Ken’s
face.

“You
might want to put your pants on,” he warned Ken. “Your little friends are
coming.”

And
slinging his shirt and jacket over his shoulder, not bothering to put them back
on, he made his way to the door. He opened it, then turned and gave Ken a feral
grin. “It’s been a pleasure,” he purred, and he was gone.

~Owari~
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