No rest for the working

Disclaimer: The guys aren't mine, but I wouldn't mind having them! Who would?

The light sound of someone else in the room listening to music woke Schuldig. He raised his heaom tom the pillow and looked across the room to the desk. One small lamp was on at the corner, illuminating a portion of his lover's face. The music was from earphones, undoubtedly, because of how softly it was muffled. He dropped his head back down and stared at the American as he scribbled furiously, but silently, on some paper. At one point he made a horrendously frustrated face, scowl included. Schuldig couldn't help but smile and chuckle silently. It was always something with his lover.
Taking off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose, Crawford leaned his head back and rested it against the top of the densely padded chair. He resisted a yawn, stifling it with his hand. He was tired, but he wasn't sleepy. The oddest combination, but perfectly logical once he thought about it long enough. Stretched out beside his lover, their warm bodies lying flush against one another, the last thing he should have been thinking about was *why* he couldn't sleep, but it was a distracting subject. So he had gotten up, very slowly so as to not wake the redhead, and gotten to work. He hadn't yet brewed a pot of coffee, but with the way he was yawning and the way the page was blurring every few seconds, that was next.
Stifling another yawn with his hand, he rose with the CD player in the other, headphones in his ears, and glanced at the bed. The light was low and he was without glasses, but he could just make out the outline of Schuldig's sleeping body. The telepath had been worn out after their earlier interaction, and had promptly fallen asleep after an amount of what could be boiled down to cuddling. They had been laid out on the couch, so Crawford had simply picked up his sleeping lover's body and carried him to their bed. Schuldig hadn't woken. Cutest damn thing Crawford had seen in forever. Another yawn attacked him, this one escaping.
With that, he scowled unconsciously, shook his head and left the room. Less thinking, more coffee. Without caffeine he would be useless in an hour. Thank god it was real. Lately his dreams had been incredibly twisted. Reality was something his dreams had tossed out the window like a stuffed animal owned by a tantrum-throwing child. Free falling to destruction. For one, rabbits didn't have fangs or suck people's blood and eat corpses, no matter how rabid they were, and Nagi wasn't a half-snake god of hell. At least last time he had checked. The teen was so moody lately, who knew? He remembered puberty, kind of. He had never been this moody though, The telekinetic was happy one second, than crying at his computer the next. So damn emotional. It was aggravating sometimes.
He made his coffee, pouring out the old and adding new water and grounds. It wasn't the quickest process in the world, and he wasn't the fastest right then, but the process was familiar and easy to do. Nothing complicated about it, except not falling asleep in the middle. That done, he leaned against the edge of the kitchen table, setting the CD player down, and crossed his arms over his chest. It wasn't long before he had nodded off standing up.
A chuckle from the door didn't even make him twitch. Schuldig smiled sympathetically for his lover. Crawford was always wearing himself out, pleasing him sexually, working, paying bills, balancing a budget. He had to teach the American how to relax before he had a caffeine overdose one day.
Stretching from his threshold position, the German yawned lightly and stalked across the kitchen afterward, sensual in his movements as always. His feline body stretched when he moved and was silk as in the darkness, isolated patches of light slanting across his skin. He looked at the brewing coffee for a moment. There was enough in the glass pot for three cups at the moment. He found one and filled it, adding three sugars and some milk from the fridge. He noted with amusement that the light from the fridge didn't even stir his exhausted lover. This was really quite sad, seeing a grown man so exhausted that he was asleep standing up, even with music on loudly. If Brad had started snoring he wouldn't have been able to suppress his roar of laughter.
After such an interesting and fulfilling experience hours before, he would think the precog would be very awake, or at the very least asleep, warm, in bed. Anything but half-naked and dozing against the table, waiting for coffee. Schuldig stirred the mix and slunk over to sit beside Brad, his face nothing but an amused grin. Gently removing the headphones from Brad's ears, he held the cup up and passed it under the other's nose a few times. The aromatic liquid worked its mystifying magic, and the blue eyes slowly opened to stare at the light brew. The twin periwinkle orbs glanced over to look at the owner of the hand who held the cup of coffee, immediately brightening. His entire body lost its sleepy look as he stood straight and took his cup, smiling gratefully.
"Thank you. I was having a little nap while I waited."
That had to be the lamest excuse Schuldig had ever heard. "Right. Why don't you come back to bed, schone? We could stretch out and you can take a little nap there with me."
They looked at each other for a long moment, Schudig with his sexiest "come hither" look and Crawford trying not to yawn. It sounded like a harmless idea, which let the precog know it wouldn't be. They'd end up all over each other. It didn't seem like such a bad idea when Schuldig gently pushed the coffee cup away so he could latch his arms around Crawford's neck and kiss him till his brain went numb. He nodded silently, kissing back with a slowly renewing passion.
Somehow they both made it back to his room, the coffee only getting one swallow before they both collapsed in a tangle of legs and arms to the bed. Schuldig was immediately pushed down to the gray flannel sheets. Crawfrd's sheets changed with the season- winter was flannel, summer was Egyptian cotton or silk. Their fingers intertwined for a tender moment.
Schuldig moaned slightly, breathlessly, when his lover's hand slid under the waistband of the pants he slept in. The light fabric gave easily. Gently the fingers gripped his swelling cock, a stroke and then another sending shivers up his spine that gripped his whole body. He whispered the precog's name when he heard his pants being tossed to the foot of the bed. Brad had surprising dexterity when he wanted to.
Smiling at the sound of his name rolling off the sultry redhead's tongue, Crawford claimed his lips in the next second. Both men felt the searing heat to their toes. Schuldig mumbled something about him tasting like coffee when he broke their kiss. He wasn't paying much attention, his lips moving down the sleek expanse of the redhead's delicious neck. It was one of his favorite parts, the neck- that and many other, more obvious body parts.
He made his slow way down, nipping here and there, but immediately licking the same spot in apology. A soft, rhythmic stroking from his hand had Schuldig trembling and soon softly mewling like a desperate kitten. He writhed when the American stroked the inside of his thighs. After an eternity of caresses and strategically placed nips and kisses, only the tip of his cock was taken into the enticingly warm mouth, and he thought he would die from the suspense.
"Ah, neh.." he panted, looking down through hazy green eyes at the dark head. "Onegai, Brad, don't tease.."
Knowing Schuldig couldn't be delayed forever, Crawford took him in nearly entirely, the hot cavern of his mouth accommodating the size. Another moan, louder, echoed in the quiet room. His head bobbed up and down. Tongue swirling circles at the base and head of Schuildig's length. He heard Schuldig's fists grasp the sheets, felt the hips rise. Their rhythm slipped to faster and faster, Schuldig gasping his name and crying out some curse words Crawford wasn't quite sure were real and was positive he had never heard before- unless he thought back to their last bout. The redhead quivered and shook, trying to hold himself back, but Crawford slipped two fingers roughly into his tight entrance and he burst, shouting a particularly amusing curse.
Crawford swallowed as much as he could, swallowing the rest after the first large gulp. It was not easy to swallow the salty mixture, but never too difficult. Everything was precious and worthy of being savored about Schuldig, his seed being no exception.
His hair laying damp against his forehead and neck, Schuldig sat up and kissed his lover, their tongues entwining. "Coffee and cum, quite the combo, koibito" the German purred, smiling and licking Crawford, stealing his own taste from the pleasing lips.
"Mhm." Crawford was never very talkative after sex. He was never very talkative ever, especially recently. He'd had too much on his mind, little unimportant, erratic things.
He felt hands on his own waistband, but pushed them away. Schuldig looked up at him with a puzzled frown, green eyes wide andsurprised. He looked up into tired, faded blue eyes.
"Bradley...?"
Poor thing. His face showed each and every passionate emotion. Crawford cut him off with another scalding kiss. "Rest now, Schu. I'm tired- you're tired. How about we just sleep for now? You and I can get back to this in the morning."
"Okay, if you're that tired." Schuldig eyed his lover for a bit, something not right with how he was acting. Too tired for sex? That was a foreign concept to the telepath.
He didn't get much time to think on it as he was dragged under the sheets and black blanket with the toned body of his lover. He just wanted to please Brad as he had been, but that stupid barrier was up again- and how he hated it! The no-touching-me feeling about his lover popped up now and again, driving the German insane. How someone could sleep with you one minute, then refuse your love the next was beyond him. For an American he was awfully damn difficult.
They lay together, Crawford holding Schuldig loosely, and soon the redhead was asleep again. This time Crawford made no move to get up. With the German lying on his arm and shoulder, he really had no choice in the matter. Cuddling was fine. He could stand cuddling. It was the dark, long silence he was having difficulty bearing.
His visions weren't always accurate. Maybe everything would be all right, and he had just imagined he had seen something awful.