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Witness of My Crime	By : CardDragonBall Category: Weiß Kreuz > General Views: 2298 -:- 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.

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Title: Sexual Innuendo

Fandom: Weiss Kreuz

Characters: Crawford/Schuldig

Warning: SEX! Consensual sex even! Yay for slash (that's two guys having sex by the way--ya know, buttsex.)

Supporting Lyrics:

I've seen everything imaginable

Pass before these eyes

I've had everything that's tangible

Honey you'd be surprised

I'm a sexual innuendo

In this burned out paradise

If you turn me on to anything

You better turn me on tonight

--"Rocket Queen" By Guns N Roses

Crawford wasn't really asleep--hadn't been since the door closed. Dozed though, half asleep, curled into his pillow, enjoying the warmth and comfort of his bed. Considering if he really wanted to be woke up or not--even for what was coming.

Heard his bedroom door open. The quiet pad of naked feet across the floor. Open drawer in the dresser, shuffling in the dark, and then found it. Those feet padding across the room to him, towel thrown over Schuldig's shoulder to land on the floor near the door (despite what he had said the many times he had said it.) A knee on the bed, slight dip, and hands pushing against Crawford's shoulder, rolling him onto his back. So he resisted, pretended to be sleeping.

"Whatever, Oracle, get on your back." Schuldig was grinning at him, pushed harder and leaned down. All the way on the bed now, one of his legs across Crawford's thighs. When he moved down all of him was pressing against Crawford, still damp and warm from the shower. And his hair, dripping against his skin.

Crawford titled his head away when Schuldig moved to kiss him. "Did you brush your teeth?"

Chuckle. "Yes. Twice."

Crawford sneered anyway when Schuldig moved to kiss him again and moved his face away. Didn't like the idea of it--Takatori sperm. He stretched under Schuldig and ran his hands down the damp back over him. Long almost pets to make up for the lack of kissing--but Schuldig didn't like to be touched, not often, definitely not when he was treating himself to a post-victory fuck.

"Fine," Schuldig sneered. Moved his head down to suck on his neck instead. (Bit of a oral fixation, though. Liked to kiss, which always seemed strange to Crawford. Schuldig could kiss a man insane--absolutely insane--but he didn't want to be petted or cuddled or touched in anyway.) His hands, dragging down Crawford's chest, fingernails digging in just enough to make the sensation sharper and hotter, and slipping lower, down past his belly.

Wince somewhere in there, when Schuldig pulled the bite on his shoulder and made it hurt fresh. Crawford looked at it in the dim light and ran his fingers over the patch of bandages covering the wound. "Something unexpected happen?" he murmured.

Fingers slipping between his thighs now, pushing them apart, Schuldig shifting over him to give him the room to accomodate the fingers' demand. No sort comeback to that statement--must have been pretty impressive little mindfuck if Schuldig was honestly not going to retort. Got his head nudged to the side to provide more room for the mouth nipping and sucking at his skin. Intent--driven only by the selfish need. Warm hand rubbing against him and the constant shifting of muscles in those thighs that were parted over his. Schuldig's damn hair on his chest, hot skin under his fingertips.

Crawford reached out and grabbed the tube that had been retrieved from his drawer and left laying on the bed to get lost among the blankets. Flipped the top open and squeezed it out onto his fingers. Felt Schuldig pulling back, his hand sliding away, back up over his belly to press against the bed and hold himself up. Slight widening to the spread of his thighs, breathy pant of breath and his tongue across his lips. Quiet, patient, still even--little noise here or there as Crawford pushed his fingers inside. Schuldig usually did this part himself--another way he didn't like to be touched--except when he had that smug-fucked look on his face.

Like he did now. Backward tilt of his head, spill of all his hair around his face and that look--fuck--that look like he just at the canary, the cream and the fucking cat too.

Crawford pulled his fingers free and Schuldig reached for the tube this time, coated his palm with it and reached between them--a slow stroke--and then he was moving, muscles shifting. Concentrated--

His breathless exhale. Schuldig's bare teeth and his eyes, flicking up to look at his face--always that, had to have the attention of everyone. Even now. Saw him watching and Schuldig hissed between his teeth, pushed down harder. Eyes sliding closed, leaned back into it--tipped his head back and exposed his neck. Pulled the bandages and the bite, made it hurt and all the muscles in the whole length of his body tightened down.

Crawford tightened his hands on Schuldig, on his knee and his waist and breathed out. Heard the chuckle and felt the flickering of muscles, the press of Schuldig's steadying hand into the mattress, and then--movement. Rocking. Slight enough it would be almost unnoticeable-- Opened his eyes, watched the blue eyes watching him. Half a smirk on Schuldig's face as he started to move more.

Watched the sway of Schuldig's hair as he moved, felt the sweat prickling on his own skin, and the building--friction, heat, slippery and slick and Schuldig was moving faster. Making noises now--noises he only made here. Gasping little noises almost, want. As close to begging as this man would ever get.

Crawford pressed up, fingers gripping the flatness of Schuldig's hips and pulling him down, pulling at the rhythm, trying to change it--but his attempts were overruled. Another half-caught groan like an exhale and Schuldig's eyes closed, bit his own lip and ground down against him. Head tipped back against, hair over his shoulders, panting--sweating--neck blushing.

Crawford sat up, hands slipping around, grabbing Schuldig by whatever skin was closest and grinding back against him. Felt the arm hook around his shoulder, only because Schuldig needed the leverage--no need for touching.

"Twice?" Crawford breathed. Felt the harshness of it in his throat and heard the sharp edge of the groan in the air.

Schuldig smirked--naughty boy smirk, that "I-fucking-won-and-you-know-it" smirk--and licked his lips. Leaned forward enough that Crawford could get to his mouth and--there--

Instant.

That mouth on his, his lips and his tongue and his fucking hands. Roaming hands moving in time with the strokes of his tongue and whatever it was--whatever Schuldig did with this, however he did it--

Crawford pushed him back, kissed him harder and drown the objection (because this man here hated to be on his back. Schuldig never said a word against any other way, not even to fucking on his knees, against a wall, on a car, sitting up, standing up--nothing. Nothing but this.) Jerked his hips and pressed in deeper, reached one hand down to pull those long legs up, felt them moving on their own.

Harder now, faster--past the smoothness, felt the hands grabbing him and the fingernails digging into his skin. Dragged his hand down Schuldig's chest, and then back up, sliding on the sweat. Liked him like this, under him, pressing back, body clenching, thighs around Crawford's waist or his rips and those sounds in his throat.

Liked him like this.

Schuldig pulled away from the kiss first, panted agianst his face and that smirk was gone now. Lost to the backward tilt of his head, the shivering--clenching--the scratch of Schuldig's nails down Crawford's back. Muttering things now, might have been words, half-bitten off german. Urgency in the backward rock of his hips, wanting more.

Definitely liked him like this.

Crawford caught Schuldig's mouth again, felt the hand agianst his face, fingernails agianst his scalp. Roughness now. Nips. Sharp and hungry and demanding. Now and more and--

Hot. Couldn't breath. Pressed his forehead against Schuldig's good shoulder and--fuck. Schuldig's voice, whining almost, pushing back and back. His own hips thrusting down, faster, harder--now.

Right now.

Felt it getting tighter and hotter and everything, everything about that slide and the clench and the heat, and his belly rubbing against Schuldig. About the sound of his name--almost--in that voice, and the fingernails digging into his skin. All of Schuldig's shameless abandon here, content to be pushed down for the moment, riding through the high of the fuck with all the smugness in the world.

Fuck me, he'd said--so long ago. Long enough Crawford couldn't place the date. Seemed random to him then, didn't seem random now. Made sense.

Made sense as he pushed harder and faster, felt his own fists digging into the blankets and palm on hot skin--Schuldig's skin. Mouth right there, above his collarbone, teeth pressed it against it in time with the thrusts of his hips.

"Don't--" Schuldig said, eyes closed, teeth bare--writhing under him--hair everywhere across his face and in his mouth and on his shoulders. "Bite," another hard exhale of breath, and he jerked his hips back, took Crawford in deeper, opened his eyes just enough to look at him. "Me."

Crawford would have smirked at him but--

Schuldig arched his back, eyes rolling back--tight, everywhere, his clenched teeth his stomach, his thighs--inside too. Crawford bit off a curse word (or Schuldig's name) and ground against it. Felt Schuldig moving back against him, shameless quest for more of his own gratification, but it was fine--it served Crawford's purpose all the same.

Opened his mouth and bit down on Schuldig's shoulder, near his arm, hard enough to bruise. Laid on top of him, eyes closed, content to be still and let the shock waves pass through him.

"Bastard," Schuldig said after barely ten seconds. Brought his legs up, dug his heels into the bed and shoved, rolling them over so Crawford was on his side and then pulled away. Sat up. "I said don't." Rubbed his shoulder--ugly red teeth mark now. Turned back to look at him, snide smirk on his face. Used his elbow to roll Crawford onto his back again and kissed him. Strange kiss, long--deep--thorough. Made him sleepy though.

Schuldig pulled back, licked his lips, gave him that stupid naughty smile again. "I lied," he said. "Didn't brush my teeth at all." Then he was off the bed, chuckling to himself (at the look of disgust on Crawford's face no doubt.)

"Get your fucking towel!" Crawford yelled. Had to get up and brush his fucking teeth now--
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Witness of My Crime