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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.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
Title: Best Time I Remember

Fandom: Weiss Kreuz

Characters: Yohji. Schuldig.

Rating: nc-17

Warning: VIVID and possibly DISTURBING fantasizing about RAPE. This is yet another NOT HAPPY fic. So be warned. Schuldig's playing and Weiss is suffering for it.

Supporting Lyrics:

Somethin' changed in this heart of mine

An' I'm so glad that ya showed me

Funny how I never felt so high

It's a feelin' that I know

I know I'll never forget

Ooh it was the best time I can remember

--Think About You GnR

Slow burn. (Ken's looking--ruffled.) Crawling (Kind of cute when he's angry--cute? No. Ken's not cute.) Slippery sliding (wonder what he'd be like, in bed. No! Kudo, pull it together, do not entertain thoughts about your fellow assassin/florists in bed. Especially not since he's a MAN. --yeah--but--) Inching (wonder if he'd top or bottom...)

Six days. Six days from a half thought about Ken's messed up hair and the look caught between agony and hatred on his face--strange state of his clothes, and anger ever since. Six days from that half thought to this one.

(Hold him down. He'd hate it. Fuck him like that. He'd hate it. Look damn good there, wouldn't he?)

Six days a minor record as far as resisting imperatives; Schuldig didn't count it since he'd left the imperative to fester as it would. Given it to Kudo five days before Omi and left it be--convinced Crawford to tell him when it would reach its critical point so he didn't have to spend a week following Kudo around on his boring routines. No--this way--just had to be there when the imperative burst.

Instantaneously, irrepressible need.

Stood apart from the crowd, hair pulled back away from his face, hands in his pants pockets, green jacket snug across his chest. (Bite still hurt a bit. Got infected, had to scrub that bitch clean--should go back and tell little Omittichi to brush his teeth more often.) Watching Kudo chat up some woman with one quarter of a full brain. She was obligingly accepting of his attentions (and spinelessly willing to spread her legs for him at a second's notice.) Her nice brown eyes and her nice brown hair and her nice tan complexion. Looked a bit like someone boring they all knew.

Right there, with her smile--brilliant white teeth--it burst open in Kudo's mind.

(Hold him down--fuck him *hard.* Christ yes. Until he cried. Until he begged--) Rush of arousal that ran straight from that delicious thought to Kudo's groin. (Ken begging. Fuck yes. Ken on his back, Ken crying--and him--oh him, fucking him.)

(NO! NO! STOP IT!)

Schuldig spread a smirk across his face. Gave an ever so tiny push to that imperative, upped the volume a bit and made the physical reactions embarrassing enough that Kudo actually half moaned--eyes huge and wide, surprise so very palpable and obvious that even the woman with a quarter of a brain knew that something had just happened.

"Excuse me," Kudo managed to squeak.

Bathroom.

(Have to tie him up. He wouldn't stay still. Wouldn't *let* you do it. Have to force him--but he'd like it. A lot. Like you fucking him on his back.)

(NO! Not Ken, not ever, not like that. Never like that--never with Ken, never with a woman, never never never.)

(Twisting and fighting and yelling. Think of the wire, digging into his skin--lovely contrast there. And that moment--pushing it in. He'd hate it; he'd be so fucking hot.)

Kudo slammed into the bathroom, blindly diving into whatever stall was open and nearby, not even a spare thought about whether there was anyone in here--too busy gulping down breaths between the flashes of heat that were burning in his belly and stiffening in his pants. Delicious in its intensity--specific in its detail.

Rape Ken.

"Get it together," a bare whisper in the stall. Spoken all to himself, all in a breath, all helpless and almost a groan.

Schuldig slid the door open silently, stepped inside, steps covered by the frantic beat of Yohji's own thoughts. Pathetic resistance, and he moved over to the sinks, leaned back against one, hands still in his pockets, crossed one foot over the other and closed his eyes.

Back into that mind.

(Hear him begging to stop--no stopping, he wants it, you know he does. Always so fucking sexy when he's mad and he's mad now--biting, thrashing. Fighting and giving it up all the same. Bleeding now, pulled the wire too tight, but that's fine--blood's nice a slippery. Smooth and warm, spread it around. Fucking him and feeling fine.)

(Rape. Rape--thinking about--Ken. Rape? No. Never. Couldn't. Wouldn't...fuck--fuck--this is sick.)

Sick or not, the impulse demanded obedience, and Kudo slid his hand against his erection--hated it, hated the feeling, the thought, the idea in his head that he couldn't quite trace back to an origin but his hand felt good there, rubbing. Nice and hot.

(Like Ken. Hot inside of him, tight--he never had anyone like that before. You were the first and he'd remember you. Remember how he begged you to stop but he wanted it. Yeah. Fucking wanted it. Wriggling--might have to tie his legs down too. Athlete, pretty damn dexterous--might get some idea about where to put his knees. Tie them down, open.)

(Don't do it. Don't even fucking think--oh--)

All that protest and Kudo's hand was still slipping inside his own pants, the other hand pulling open the button and the zipper. Had to get rid of this erection, even here, no need for logic, no need to care this was a public place, no need to think about those thoughts playing in his head--liked those thoughts a little bit. A little too much.

(Killed people for less than this, for thinking this, for--Animal. Pervert. Rapist.)

Schuldig felt the grin cross his face, little breath of a chuckle covered by the open-mouthed moan that rolled out of Kudo's throat.

Kudo's hand on his erection, stroking it in time with: (Hard. Fingers digging into his hips, holding him against the bed, no need to move, but he'd be trying, twisting back and how nice that'd feel--tightening and loosening and fuck yes--fuck him harder. Make him bleed. Might hurt a bit but he would like it. Ken would love it. Love it.)

Tears in Kudo's eyes, shut tight against his own thoughts but that made the images burn brighter, the arousal was stronger, his fingers were slipping down the stall door where he'd put them to steady himself. Knees getting weak, hips rocking and his hand--slick sounds of the fast stroke there.

Had to get off now.

(Had to get to Ken. Have to surprise him, couldn't take him down otherwise. Maybe get him a little drunk. Imagine his face--when you put him on the bed, wrapped up in wire and think of his face when you slammed inside of him. Fuck yes--he'd want it. Want you.)

"No," the objection, spoken because Kudo couldn't quite think through the storm of thoughts. Nothing coherent, not against that. Repeated it--again--louder. "NO."

Didn't matter what he said because he was there and the orgasm shuddered through what remained of his thoughts.

(Animal. Filthy. Disgusting. Animal.)

(No, felt good.)

(RAPIST!)

Schuldig moved forward, tap of his mind against Yohji's, got the door to the stall unlocked and pushed it open. Stood there, smirk on his face, self satisfied. Waited for Yohji to break through the firestorm of his own self disgust enough to look up, to see him, to recognize him.

(The telepath.)

"I'd do Omi," Schuldig said. Conversationally. "If you really want a fight. Have to muzzle him though--he bites."

(Omi--wait--what?!) Some other half ridiculous thought. (He heard he knows. He knows what you were just--wait. Wait. OMI?!)

Schuldig laughed. "Ken's too easy and you're not nearly good enough to take Aya down. Send him my love though, tell him he's next." He turned around and left, just like that.
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Witness of My Crime