DICLAIMER: Weiss Kreuz and its characters do not belong to me.
PAIRINGS: Crawford/Nagi, later Omi/Nagi
//telepathic thoughts//
What Do YOU Know?
Chapter 1
Beads of sweat rolled off his forehead, dropping down on me. Normally cold, narrowed eyes were darkened with passion as he thrust into me at an increasing pace. I couldn't help the occasional whimpers and moans that escaped from the back of my throat, mingling with his harsh breathing.
Suddenly, the fingers on my shoulders clenched as he gave one last push, and the familiar sensation of his cum filled me, signaling the end of his climax. Body relaxing, he remained in me as he lay on top, crushing me with his weight. I could easily have used my talent to lift part of his weight off, but to tell the truth, I liked the feel of him pressing down on me, pinning me into the mattress. It was comforting, his presence surrounding me completely and blocking out everything else but him. Any pain and discomfort from the actual act was worth it for those few precious moments right after sex.
Too soon, he pulled out, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and reaching over for his glasses. I watched him as he bent over to pick up his clothes, noticing how the smooth muscles contracted, and marveling once more that a human could have such grace and fluidity in even the simplest of movements.
Not that any of us were normal human beings, him least of all. He really did seem untouchable, like a God. Never faltering, all-knowing. Even months of intimate involvement with him never revealed flaws or vulnerabilities to mar his perfect image.
"Are you going to put something on or just lie there watching me?" he asked wryly, as he finished dressing by buttoning up his collared shirt.
"I have nowhere to go," I replied smartly, settling back into the pillows and gazing up at him even more blatantly.
"Still, you might want to put something on," he said in a tone that commanded, rather than suggested.
"Why?"
He didn't need to answer. Schuldig burst in without so much as knocking.
Annoyed, I pulled up the sheets up to cover myself and glared at him from my bed. We may be teammates but I expect a certain degree of privacy in my own room.
"Stop whining and get in here," Schuldich snapped, turning to yank the figure behind him into the room with him.
"Weiss!" I exclaimed, startled.
Crawford remained nonplussed, looking calm and composed.
"Your prisoner," Schuldich drawled, kicking so the captured assassin went sprawling in an clumsy heap at Crawford's feet. "Rather annoying, this one. He won't stop it with his pathetic whimpers."
Schuldich smiled nastily, nasal tones taking on a mockingly high tone. "Not again. Why does this always happen to me? I don't want to die. I didn't do anything to deserve this. Help me, Ken. Aya. Yohji. Anyone. Father, why'd you abandon me? Blah blah blah. Gott, he won't shut up."
During his tirade, Weiss' eyes got even more impossibly big as he scooted away from us, until he bumped into the edge of my desk. There he curled into a protective ball, as if that would somehow shield him from us.
He caught me looking and stared back, eyes shining with tears as if silently pleading for help. Help from an enemy, hah! This kid was so pathetic.
"Why's he in my room?" I scowled heavily. "Take him to yours."
"No way, chibi. I have a fucking headache and he's going to keep me up all night with his thoughts." He paused and smirked, striding over and crouching by the boy. "Maybe I should put him with Farfarello," he directed at us, but while gazing intently at Weiss, who whimpered in obvious protest.
Schuldig laughed cruelly. "Yes, that'll be just lovely, wouldn't it? You can spend the night having designs carved into that perfect skin of yours." He caressed the boy's cheek at the last part.
"Schuldig, enough," Crawford stated. "He's to remain here." Circumventing my protest, he added, "Nagi, deal with it. You don't have a say in the matter."
One thing about a man like Crawford — sleeping with him didn't guarantee any special treatment.
So I bit back an angry retort as they exited, leaving me with the Weiss kitten. Wasn't it enough that I did my duties without complaint? I didn't sign up to be some sort of fucking baby-sitter.
"Have fun, you two," Schuldig purred, just before he slammed the door shut behind him.
"Screw you!" A book hurled itself at the closed door.
The Weiss kitten was unmoving, paralyzed with a fear that I hadn't noticed during our usual battles. This was an assassin? Snorting, I flipped over and turned my back on him to face the wall.
Semen leaked slowly out of me onto my thighs and pooling onto the sheets. All Crawford's because I never came, not in all the times he had taken my body. He didn't mind. It meant no messes on him to clean up.
He went away looking his perfect, untouchable self while I lay entwined in filthy sheets soiled with his bodily fluids, the smell of sex and something that was uniquely him permeating the entire room and marking me as his territory.
Sighing, I closed my eyes and willed myself to sleep.
-----
The next thing I knew, I woke up gasping for air.
The kitten had claws, after all.
Pity he forgot who he was dealing with. I flung him off of me and telekinetically slammed him into the wall. Expensive paintings that Crawford had hung up rattled and fell to the floor.
//If you're going to play, play quiety.// Schuldig chided me sleepily. //That's my wall, too.//
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I demanded to know, kicking aside the blankets and stalking up to him, heedless of my state of undress.
He struggled uselessly as I held him there with my powers, his eyes blazing with hate. Funny how he wasn't scared of me, as he was of the others. Even knowing what I was capable of, his mind couldn't accept the fact that the quiet fifteen-year-old boy in front of him, nakedness displaying a small and slight frame, was someone to be feared. I would have to correct that misconception.
"Let me go," he demanded forcefully.
I extended my hand toward his throat, letting ghostly fingers curl around the tender flesh. Bruises broke out instantly as veins ruptured. He choked and thrashed in pain.
"You are nothing," I intoned in my best imitation of Crawford, tightening the grip. "I won't hesitate to kill you if you try anything funny so I suggest you behave."
Giving one last squeeze, I let him drop.
He doubled over, simultaneously gasping for air and coughing up blood, causing him to choke. He didn't resist as I snapped a handcuff around one wrist and stood contemplating where to attach the other end.
There was nothing that couldn't be lifted, moved, or broken, except the bedpost. The wood was strong enough to withstand even the most frantic struggles, I knew from experience. What can I say? Crawford liked games of dominance, even in bed.
But that would mean he would have to sleep on the floor with his arm raised, not the most comfortable of positions. That, or lie down next to me.
"If you don't let me go, I'm going to kill you," Weiss rasped, ending my indecision.
The hell with his comfort.
"Ambitious words for someone in your position," I said scornfully, yanking him harshly toward the bottom end of the bed. On second thought, I looped the chain through the boards and secured the other cuff to his other wrist, vastly limiting his freedom of movement.
Since I was up anyway, I decided to change the sheets, gathering them up and tossing them in a ball in the corner to wash tomorrow. I smoothed on new, freshly starched ones before turning to go to the attached bathroom.
There was red blotches around my neck, and I fingered the sore spots. Luckily, they were low enough that the high collar of my usual school uniform would cover them. Crawford would pitch a fit if he saw them, first for letting my guard down around an enemy and secondly for letting someone else get their hands on me.
They weren't too bad though. His specialty was long-range weapons, not bare hand strangulation.
Satisfied that the bruises were superficial and would fade in a few days, I stepped into the shower. I twisted the knobs and let the hot water course over me.
More alert now, my mind was focused on the central question: why was he here?
It wasn't information because Schuldig could easily pull that out of any one of Weiss' minds without resorting to kidnapping. And it wasn't for his own amusement because Schuldig had clearly been following Crawford's orders.
I squeezed shampoo into my hands and lathered up, working the tangles out of the fine locks of hair.
Or maybe Crawford was following Taketori's order, although I couldn't see what connection he could have to the boy. And even if that was the case, wasn't it better to hold him at one of Taketori's many estates, rather than the Schwarz stronghold?
Well, whatever was going on, I'd find out soon enough. And if not, well, I trusted Crawford to know what he was doing.
After finishing the rest of my shower quickly, I toweled off and slipped into a long-sleeved shirt and flannel bottoms — my makeshift pajamas.
He was still awake when I came out, straining against his bonds in a futile attempt to break free. Schuldig must have patted him down earlier for darts or anything else he might have improvised with to pick the lock.
He stopped immediately as he saw me and followed my movements with a hooded glare. Quite a switch from the wounded kitty act when he first arrived.
"Get some rest," I advised wearily as I settled into bed once more, vaguely disgruntled at the clean scent of soap and laundry detergent scouring away that of Crawford. "You'll probably need it."
Even as I took my own advice, I could see him grit his teeth in pain as he rubbed skin across metal once more.
tbc...
----------
June 8, 2002
PAIRINGS: Crawford/Nagi, later Omi/Nagi
//telepathic thoughts//
Chapter 1
Beads of sweat rolled off his forehead, dropping down on me. Normally cold, narrowed eyes were darkened with passion as he thrust into me at an increasing pace. I couldn't help the occasional whimpers and moans that escaped from the back of my throat, mingling with his harsh breathing.
Suddenly, the fingers on my shoulders clenched as he gave one last push, and the familiar sensation of his cum filled me, signaling the end of his climax. Body relaxing, he remained in me as he lay on top, crushing me with his weight. I could easily have used my talent to lift part of his weight off, but to tell the truth, I liked the feel of him pressing down on me, pinning me into the mattress. It was comforting, his presence surrounding me completely and blocking out everything else but him. Any pain and discomfort from the actual act was worth it for those few precious moments right after sex.
Too soon, he pulled out, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and reaching over for his glasses. I watched him as he bent over to pick up his clothes, noticing how the smooth muscles contracted, and marveling once more that a human could have such grace and fluidity in even the simplest of movements.
Not that any of us were normal human beings, him least of all. He really did seem untouchable, like a God. Never faltering, all-knowing. Even months of intimate involvement with him never revealed flaws or vulnerabilities to mar his perfect image.
"Are you going to put something on or just lie there watching me?" he asked wryly, as he finished dressing by buttoning up his collared shirt.
"I have nowhere to go," I replied smartly, settling back into the pillows and gazing up at him even more blatantly.
"Still, you might want to put something on," he said in a tone that commanded, rather than suggested.
"Why?"
He didn't need to answer. Schuldig burst in without so much as knocking.
Annoyed, I pulled up the sheets up to cover myself and glared at him from my bed. We may be teammates but I expect a certain degree of privacy in my own room.
"Stop whining and get in here," Schuldich snapped, turning to yank the figure behind him into the room with him.
"Weiss!" I exclaimed, startled.
Crawford remained nonplussed, looking calm and composed.
"Your prisoner," Schuldich drawled, kicking so the captured assassin went sprawling in an clumsy heap at Crawford's feet. "Rather annoying, this one. He won't stop it with his pathetic whimpers."
Schuldich smiled nastily, nasal tones taking on a mockingly high tone. "Not again. Why does this always happen to me? I don't want to die. I didn't do anything to deserve this. Help me, Ken. Aya. Yohji. Anyone. Father, why'd you abandon me? Blah blah blah. Gott, he won't shut up."
During his tirade, Weiss' eyes got even more impossibly big as he scooted away from us, until he bumped into the edge of my desk. There he curled into a protective ball, as if that would somehow shield him from us.
He caught me looking and stared back, eyes shining with tears as if silently pleading for help. Help from an enemy, hah! This kid was so pathetic.
"Why's he in my room?" I scowled heavily. "Take him to yours."
"No way, chibi. I have a fucking headache and he's going to keep me up all night with his thoughts." He paused and smirked, striding over and crouching by the boy. "Maybe I should put him with Farfarello," he directed at us, but while gazing intently at Weiss, who whimpered in obvious protest.
Schuldig laughed cruelly. "Yes, that'll be just lovely, wouldn't it? You can spend the night having designs carved into that perfect skin of yours." He caressed the boy's cheek at the last part.
"Schuldig, enough," Crawford stated. "He's to remain here." Circumventing my protest, he added, "Nagi, deal with it. You don't have a say in the matter."
One thing about a man like Crawford — sleeping with him didn't guarantee any special treatment.
So I bit back an angry retort as they exited, leaving me with the Weiss kitten. Wasn't it enough that I did my duties without complaint? I didn't sign up to be some sort of fucking baby-sitter.
"Have fun, you two," Schuldig purred, just before he slammed the door shut behind him.
"Screw you!" A book hurled itself at the closed door.
The Weiss kitten was unmoving, paralyzed with a fear that I hadn't noticed during our usual battles. This was an assassin? Snorting, I flipped over and turned my back on him to face the wall.
Semen leaked slowly out of me onto my thighs and pooling onto the sheets. All Crawford's because I never came, not in all the times he had taken my body. He didn't mind. It meant no messes on him to clean up.
He went away looking his perfect, untouchable self while I lay entwined in filthy sheets soiled with his bodily fluids, the smell of sex and something that was uniquely him permeating the entire room and marking me as his territory.
Sighing, I closed my eyes and willed myself to sleep.
-----
The next thing I knew, I woke up gasping for air.
The kitten had claws, after all.
Pity he forgot who he was dealing with. I flung him off of me and telekinetically slammed him into the wall. Expensive paintings that Crawford had hung up rattled and fell to the floor.
//If you're going to play, play quiety.// Schuldig chided me sleepily. //That's my wall, too.//
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I demanded to know, kicking aside the blankets and stalking up to him, heedless of my state of undress.
He struggled uselessly as I held him there with my powers, his eyes blazing with hate. Funny how he wasn't scared of me, as he was of the others. Even knowing what I was capable of, his mind couldn't accept the fact that the quiet fifteen-year-old boy in front of him, nakedness displaying a small and slight frame, was someone to be feared. I would have to correct that misconception.
"Let me go," he demanded forcefully.
I extended my hand toward his throat, letting ghostly fingers curl around the tender flesh. Bruises broke out instantly as veins ruptured. He choked and thrashed in pain.
"You are nothing," I intoned in my best imitation of Crawford, tightening the grip. "I won't hesitate to kill you if you try anything funny so I suggest you behave."
Giving one last squeeze, I let him drop.
He doubled over, simultaneously gasping for air and coughing up blood, causing him to choke. He didn't resist as I snapped a handcuff around one wrist and stood contemplating where to attach the other end.
There was nothing that couldn't be lifted, moved, or broken, except the bedpost. The wood was strong enough to withstand even the most frantic struggles, I knew from experience. What can I say? Crawford liked games of dominance, even in bed.
But that would mean he would have to sleep on the floor with his arm raised, not the most comfortable of positions. That, or lie down next to me.
"If you don't let me go, I'm going to kill you," Weiss rasped, ending my indecision.
The hell with his comfort.
"Ambitious words for someone in your position," I said scornfully, yanking him harshly toward the bottom end of the bed. On second thought, I looped the chain through the boards and secured the other cuff to his other wrist, vastly limiting his freedom of movement.
Since I was up anyway, I decided to change the sheets, gathering them up and tossing them in a ball in the corner to wash tomorrow. I smoothed on new, freshly starched ones before turning to go to the attached bathroom.
There was red blotches around my neck, and I fingered the sore spots. Luckily, they were low enough that the high collar of my usual school uniform would cover them. Crawford would pitch a fit if he saw them, first for letting my guard down around an enemy and secondly for letting someone else get their hands on me.
They weren't too bad though. His specialty was long-range weapons, not bare hand strangulation.
Satisfied that the bruises were superficial and would fade in a few days, I stepped into the shower. I twisted the knobs and let the hot water course over me.
More alert now, my mind was focused on the central question: why was he here?
It wasn't information because Schuldig could easily pull that out of any one of Weiss' minds without resorting to kidnapping. And it wasn't for his own amusement because Schuldig had clearly been following Crawford's orders.
I squeezed shampoo into my hands and lathered up, working the tangles out of the fine locks of hair.
Or maybe Crawford was following Taketori's order, although I couldn't see what connection he could have to the boy. And even if that was the case, wasn't it better to hold him at one of Taketori's many estates, rather than the Schwarz stronghold?
Well, whatever was going on, I'd find out soon enough. And if not, well, I trusted Crawford to know what he was doing.
After finishing the rest of my shower quickly, I toweled off and slipped into a long-sleeved shirt and flannel bottoms — my makeshift pajamas.
He was still awake when I came out, straining against his bonds in a futile attempt to break free. Schuldig must have patted him down earlier for darts or anything else he might have improvised with to pick the lock.
He stopped immediately as he saw me and followed my movements with a hooded glare. Quite a switch from the wounded kitty act when he first arrived.
"Get some rest," I advised wearily as I settled into bed once more, vaguely disgruntled at the clean scent of soap and laundry detergent scouring away that of Crawford. "You'll probably need it."
Even as I took my own advice, I could see him grit his teeth in pain as he rubbed skin across metal once more.
tbc...
----------
June 8, 2002