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The Blanket	By : acmelger Category: Weiß Kreuz > General Views: 2435 -:- 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
- 1-The Blanket
- 1
Disclaimer - i don't own the characters and will make no money from the story.

“Nani?” Omi
squealed as pure darkness enveloped him.

A maniacal
chuckle was his only answer. “Is little Bombay
afraid of the dark?”

Omi whirled around, catching
his foot on the edge of the sofa and falling into Berserker’s lap. Bondage
pants did not feel good against his skin. His squirm betrayed his nervousness
at being trapped alone with Schwarz. “Do you think we’re stuck here?”

Farfarello
laughed again, and almost sounded sane for a moment. “I think the sound of the
lock turning and the lights going out are a pretty good indication.”

Omi sighed
and crawled to the other cushion. “We need to find a way out. I can’t stay here
all night.”

“With me,”
Farf teased.

“With you,”
Omi agreed. “I have to work in the morning and I doubt even you would rather be
here than doing anything else.”

Farf
stepped gingerly through the small space until he found the only source of
light. He turned on the lava lamp and used the light to look around. There
wasn’t a light switch in the room. It should really be a considered a closet.
There were nndowndows at all and the only air vent had been plastered over
until only a slit remained.

The shop’s
employees used it as a break room. There was a ragged orange sofa stuffed
against the “long” wall, and a small under-counter fridgsideside it. The
“table” consisted of a piece of wood perched on a stack of merchandise – lube
and vibrators mostly – and held magazines and an overflowing ashtray. More
merchandise was stacked against the other long wall, with the lava lamp perched
on the fridge.

“I like the
blue lamps, but this will do. Once it gets started anyway.”

“They take
forever,” Omi agreed. He peaked into the fridge. Unfortunately no one had left
their lunch in there. Omi found three bottles of water, various energy drinks,
a pack of cigarettes, and a small box of chocolates. The tiny freezer
compartment, blessedly, held a pint of vanilla ice cream. “It’s not even open!”
Omi said excitedly.

Farfarello
stared intently at him as he settled on the couch. He watched the boy search for
a spoon and, failing, using his fingers delicately.

“It’s soft,
so I don’t need a spoon,” Omi pointed out, disconcerted by the staring.

“Are you
going to share?” Farf asked softly. He found the kid interesting. Omi came into
the shop once or twice a week with his friend Momiji, whose sister worked
there. The store was called Fetish, and as it catered to his fashion sense,
Farf was a regular customer.

One day
nearly four weeks ago he’d been shopping only to look down and see Bombay
helping to bag his purchase. The shop had been exceptionally bushy that day,
and it happened again. Still, they saw enough of one another to banter
comfortably in front of Momiji and his sister, so they didn’t suspect any odd
relationship.

In fact,
their act had gotten so good no one had thought anything of it when they’d
disappeared into the back together. Omi was supposed to get Farf a new mesh
shirt from the storeroom, but they’d stopped in the break room and promptly
gotten into a heated teasing match about the ugly sofa and various potential
torturous uses for the items stored in there.

In fact,
Berserker was rather entertaining when he wasn’t trying to kill him.

But now
they were stuck together until the shop opened the next day. The lava lamp was
on, but the wax hadn’t melted yet. The water was red and colored the shadows
strangely.

Omi watched
Farf take a fingerful of soft vanilla ice cream. Berserker’s eye closed and he
murmured happily before taking several more.

Farf
noticed. “Don’t you want any?”

Omi
realized he’d only taken one bite, so he took two fingers full to compensate.
Unfortunately, the ice cream was soft and he’d taken too much so it started to
drip down his hand. He licked it off daintily, only to find Farf’s eye glowing
at him intently.

Farf thought
hentai thoughts as little Bombay
licked sticky white cream off his fingers. He wondered idly if he could get him
to lick his fingers and shuddered.

Omi felt
heat in his stomach at Berserker’s consuming gaze. Suddenly he wasn’t hungry
anymore. “I suppose we should go to sleep now?” Farf nodded and Omi put the ice
cream back in the freezer.

They both
noticed the squalor then. Boxes were stacked everywhere and any bare carpet was
severely stained. The sofa wasn’t very large, but could possibly fit the two of
them. A small blanket hung over one arm, ragged with cigarette burns.

Omi looked
at the blanket and shuddered, suddenly realizing the heat had been turned off
overnight. “We should share, ne?”

“I don’t
like people touching me,” Farf argued.

“I’m not excited
about the idea myself, but there’s nowhere else to go.”

Farf
snorted. “Fine, but I get in first. If anyone’s gonna fall off the bed, it’ll
be you.”

They settled in fully clothed
under the ratty blanket and eventually drifted off to sleep.

**

Omi woke
with his mouth full. He’d been having his favorite dream, the one where a tall
stranger walks into the Koneko, takes him into the back room and, well, takes
advantage of him. The position always varied, but it was always rough and
tumble. Usually he couldn’t discern the man’s features, but he suddenly got a
glimpse of silver hair and an eye patch.

He jerked
fully awake and realized he was drooling on Berserker’s neck. His mouth was
full of t-shirt and the delicate skin where neck meets shoulder. He must have
jerked hard, because he suddenly felt an annoyed golden eye glaring at him.

“What. Are.
You. Doing?” Farf growled.

“Sorry,
dream,” Omi mumbled.

Farf batted
at his neck. “That explains the drool. Who about?”

“Oom,” Omi said into Farf’s
shirt.

“Nani?”

“You,” he
whispered.

Farf
blinked. The kid was having a dream about him? A sexy dream about him? This was
impossible – no one though of him that way. At least, no one who knew him did.
Strangers might find him attractive, but that only lasted until they touched
him or talked to him. He was insane after all, and didn’t like to be touched.
Except, if he was being honest with himself, the kid felt really good all
cradled up against him, and if what he felt against his thigh was what he
thought it was, Omi really had been having a good dream about him.

Omi groaned
as Farf’s hand ghosted across the front of his shorts, which suddenly got
tighter. His hips snapped up automatically, and Farf’s answering touch was
firmer this time.

“Do you
like when I touch you?” Farf asked, teasing his fingers across again.

Omi
tightened his arms around Farf’s neck and pulled his body closer. “Yes, please,
again.”

Farf felt
him through the thin cotton, amazed at the heat coming off the other boy. Omi
groaned and melted into him. Farf felt Omi kiss him quickly and blinked in
surprise. Omi blushed and looked away. Farf pulled Omi’s head up so he could
look at him. “You can touch me, too, if you want.” He tried not to sound like
he craved it.

Omi’s mouth
was warm and he tasted of vanilla when he kissed Farf again. They dueled for
control of the kiss, ton thr thrusting and twining. Omi ground himself into
Farf’s answering erection and whimpered. “Farfie, please.” Omi hated the
weakness of his own voice, but decided this wasn’t the time to worry about his
pride.

Farf popped
the button on Omi’s shorts and reached inside, past the scant barrier of
underwear, to his prize. Silken skin formed itself to his palm as he began
stroking.

Omi groaned
and rolled. Suddenly there was a sharp crash as he fell off the sofa, pulling
Farf on top of him, who kicked the wooden tabletop, sending the ashtray against
the far wall and the stacks of sex toys cascading to the floor. They stilled,
waiting to see if it was all over, until the ragged blanket let go of the
loveseat and drifted past their eyes.

Omi was
completely mortified. Here he was having the first sexual experience, already
better than his imagination had painted, and then this happens. It’s not like
he even tripped and fell – he completely destroyed an entire room, and probably
the mood as well.

Once the
chaos calmed, Farf looked down and was surprised to see Omi with his eyes
tightly shut, head turned to the side, with his hands on Farf’s arms like he
expected something bad. Farf looked to the side and pulled something out of the
pile. He tapped Omi on the forehead with it until he opened his eyes. “Look –
lube!” he crowed.

Omi
couldn’t help it, he started to giggle. It was a happy and relaxed sound, as
well as contagious. Farf started laughing, too, raining little kissed across
Omi’s face.

Bombay
slipped his little hands under Berserker’s shirt, pushing it up out of the way
as he aimed for the pale pink nipples. His new lover didn’t have any bandages
on, but there were a few small recent wounds, and a paler map of old scars. Omi
traced them all with his fingers, and lovingly placed kisses on each.

Farf
shuddered. He liked the kid and all, but he’d just been thinking about taking
advantage of his desire for him. Who’d have thought he’d so lovingly accept the
scars, the evidence of his insanity. He shuddered again. He’d half-expected to
be asked to keep his shirt on so the scars would hid hidden. Still, despite
his blossoming tenderness for the boy, lustlust was only rising.

“I want
you,” Omi moaned around a nipple.

“I want
you, too,” Farf agreed, tossing his shirt aside. “But,”

“What?”

“We’re
enemies.”

Omi flicked
his tongue insolently on Farf’s nipple. “So?” He moved to torture the other
one. “We can be enemies in the morning.” He raked his fingers down his side.
“But if I see you and we’re not fighting, I want to be able to do this.” He
pulled Farf down to him and pressed himself up tightly.

All
coherent thought fled from Farfarello. He tore at Omi’s shirt, shredding it and
tossing it aside. He nipped and sucked at Omi’s exposed skin, surprised he
wasn’t breaking the skin.

Omi wiggled
out of his pants and managed with shaky hands to unbutton his lover. When Farf
didn’t cooperate in removing his pants, he grabbed the strap behind his knees
and pulled. This pulled Farf into a kneeling position, where he got a full view
of Omi’s stern expression.

The kid
looked adorable even when he was trying to be serious, so Farf humored him and
pulled off his pants. Omi got on his knees and pressed himself into all that
bare skin. Farf bit his earlobe and sent his hands down the back of his boxers,
caressing and clenching his taut ass. Omi immediately returned the favor and
soon their boxers were gliding lower as they ground their hips together.

Omi pushed
Farf down and jumped on top of him before he could struggle. He feverishly
removed both their boxers, contorting himself into odd positions to keep Farf
from dislodging him. Farf didn’t actually try, but Omi was too focused to
notice. Finally, after what seemed like years, they were both naked and Omi
climbed back on top. At the first twitch of his hips they both groaned. Farf
grabbed his hips and started rubbing their arousals together and Omi, panting
desperately, braced his hands on Farf’s chest.

They rubbed
and ground together, and occasionally Omi would hop and drop back down with a
satisfying slapping sound, but it wasn’t enough. “Farfie,” Omi grunted. “Please
fuck me.”

That was
all it took to distract Farf from the glorious feel of Omi’s skin. “I need to
prepare you,” he panted.

Omi nodded
and rolled off, grinning shamelessly. Farf returned the smile, and Omi marveled
at how normal he looked. A real, sane smile and suddenly he looked more dashing
than sinister. Omi swore silently to himself that he’d do all he could to get
more of those smiles.

Farf
grinned as Omi got tangled in the blanket. They both fought valiantly until it
was banished to the back of the couch. Farf positioned Omi so he was on his
right side with his face toward the fridge, while he put himself facing Omi,
but with his feet by his head.

Their eyes
immediately locked on each other’s erections. While Farf was unwrapping the
lube, Omi reached out a tentative finger and dipped it into Farf’s slit. Farf
looked at him and gulped as Omi tasted the precum on his finger. He mimicked
Omi’s actions and earned a moan from Omi.

They
maintained eye contact and began a game. Omi licked Farf’s tip, and Farf
returned the favor. Omi swirled his tongue about the head, and Farf did the
same. Eventually they couldn’t restrain selvselves and each was enveloped in a
hot mouth.

gurggurgled
happily around Farfarello. The skin was like silk and so warm, with just a hint
of salt. It tasted like Farf, but muskier, like lust if it were a flavor. He
never wanted to get enough of that flavor, to be satiated. He wanted to have
him in his mouth and at his mercy. He could hear Farf’s moaning and knew he was
affecting him. He could barely focus nythnything, though, because of what Farf
was doing to him. He knew his legs wepreapread wantonly but he didn’t care.

Farfarello
was instantly convinced that there was such thing as natural talent at oral
sex, because Omi had it. Maybe it was the big blue eyes looking at him as he
sucked him down, or maybe it was the plump pink lips wrapped around his girth.
It didn’t matter, because if they didn’t move on in a matter of moments it
would be all over.

He hurried
with the preparation as much as he dared, but still made sure he was stretched
and wet. Omi writhed bonelessly on his pumping fingers and mewled like a
kitten. “C’mere, baby,” Farf whispered tenderly, reclining and returning Omi to
his lap. Omi looked at him, waiting for guidance. “You get to set the pace,
baby,” he murmured, positioning himself at Omi’s hole. “However you like it.”

Omi nodded
and silently vowed to make the Irishman scream his name. He settled his hips
down until he was breeched. It was probably only the first inch, but Farf was
wide and he found himself sweating. After a moment the sharp pain passed and he
lowered himself a bit more. Now there was just a momentary discomfort. He
smiled and slowly lowered himself down until he was nestled in Farf’s coarse
hair. It felt so good, and he wasn’t even moving. He was full and stretched and
consumed by the man below him. He felt strong hands caressing and gripping his
hips, but they didn’t try getting him to move. Farf was letting him have total
control.

Farf
thought he was going to die. He played with Omi’s hips to keep from thrusting
up into that slick heat and closed his eyes to try and regain control of
himself. He felt muscles clench around his cock and blinked his eyes open in
surprise. Omi was looking down at him, trying to look innocent but obviously
self-satisfied. Farf growled and scraped his fingers across Omi’s hips. The boy
shuddered and clenched again, and Farf threw his arms out for support. His
fingers found the blanket and he grabbed it. When Omi finally began a slow rise
and fall on him, he twisted hisds ids in the blanket to keep himself occupied.
Giving the chibi control had obviously been a very bad idea.

Omi thought
Farf looked very young, clutching the blanket like a little boy in the throes
of a bad dream. Chuckling to himself, he set about distracting him. He quickened
his rhythm and alternated up and down with back and forth motions. He was
panting now, and puffing out Farf’s name with each breath.

Farf knew
he’d his Omi’s sweet spot when the boy shuddered brokenly. “Did you like that,
Omi?”

“Nn, yeah,”
Omi whimpered.

“What do
you want?”

“Fuck me,
Farf, please!”

Farf
growled and grabbed Omi’s hips. He pulled them down hard again and again as he
thrust up so that Omi was bouncing on him. “Too much?” he grunted.

“Unh…unh…No.
Fuck me hard!”

Farf rolled
them over roughly without losing any contact. He pointed into Omi’s thrashing
body, so tight and hot inside. Omi howled and panted and licked and bit,
digging deep furrows into his lover’s back with his fingers.

Farf felt
no pain and kept on. He claimed Omi’s lips with a kiss like a brand as they
moved erratically together. It wasn’t pretty, but it was perfect.

“Farfie,
please.”

“Omi, so
good.”

p clp class=MsoNormal> “Close.”

Farf took
Omi’s neglected erection in one hand and stroked in time to his own thrusts.
That was all it took for Omi, whose orgasm hit him like blunt force trauma. He
screamed Farf’s name and erupted for what felt like hours. He collapsed in a
broken breathless heap and glanced up at Farf, who’d gone still, trying to
maintain control.

“Farfie?”
Omi began sweetly.

“Hm,” Farf
managed, eyes still shut.

“You’re not
done.”

“No.”

Omi began
massaging Farf’s chest and tweaking his nipples. He smirked at the ragged groan
that was his response. “Don’t you want to fuck me, Farfie?”

“Oh. Just.
Hell. Omi.”

Omi
clenched and wrapped his legs around Farf. “Fuck me, Farfie. Hard.”

Farfarello
cursed Omi for the demon he was, in his head, even as he leaned forward for a
kiss, nearly folding Omi in half in the process. He resumed his previous pace,
thrusting deep and hard. Bombay
felt like absolute heaven, a velvet grip on the inside and full of wanton
sexual urges. Even as he came hard crying out Omi’s name, he was thinking of
different positions he could suggest in the future. Well, not when he came, but
about five minutes later when he regained his capacity for rational thought.

Omi looked
at his lover, who looked completely spent at the moment. He grabbed the sad
little blanket and covered them with it. They’d cleared this spot on the floor
and might as well use it. He smoothed Farf’s hair and kissed him just under the
ear. Farf wrapped an arm around Omi and settled him to cuddle on his shoulder.

“Maybe I
should take a memento,” Omi said quietly.

“There’s
tons of toys.”

“I was
thinking the blanket,” Omi s a l a little chagrined at his sentimentality. “It
smells like you.”

“It smells like us,” Farf
corrected. He gazed around at the disarray until a particular box caught his
eye. “Maybe we should get locked in again next weekend.”
- 1
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The Blanket