And the Winner Is…

Crawford lay in the back seat of the BMW and acknowledged he was never going to understand Schuldig. Not that he was complaining. He’d believed that what had happened in the space room would never happen again, but here he was, and Schuldig was–

A door opened, Nagi’s voice, “Damn it, Schuldig!” and Farfarello’s laughter and Schuldig was coming, quivering on his cock and Crawford came too…

Later Crawford sat in the back seat while Schuldig drove. Always a bad idea, but the bastard had stolen the keys while Crawford was distracted then stuffed them down his recently-resumed pants, and though Crawford had been quite willing to go after them, Nagi had been right there–

Nagi was why he was in the back seat, too. The boy refused to sit back there. Even Farfarello had brought a towel for his seat, though the Irishman didn’t say anything about “bloody-minded evil assassins fucking like snakes in a barrel,” as he thought he’d heard Nagi mutter.

Schwarz might be over, Crawford reflected, but its members didn’t seem to notice. So maybe it wasn’t over?

When he’d come out of the space room, Schuldig, Nagi and Farfarello all had been elsewhere. Farf had apparently locked himself in, the other two were in their rooms playing loud music so they could pretend not to hear if he knocked. He hadn’t. He had gone to his room and meditated, used the methods Essett had taught him to see what Schuldig had done to get into and stay in his mind, and undo it. Then he’d considered what he should do, to ease his teammates into their new lives, and this morning he had come to get his coffee and lay out his plans for them.

But Schuldig had met him with a perfectly-made cup of coffee, and Nagi had been thrilled that he was–supposedly–thinking about getting a dog, and Farfarello was reviewing a list of things Schuldig said he couldn’t do to a dog. Before Crawford could straighten things out, Schuldig had casually mentioned he’d dented the BMW, and Crawford had gone to look…

Schuldig had a cigarette in one hand and a pixie stick in the other while driving his car. Crawford took the cigarette, and wondered exactly what “not forgiven” meant. He did understand about finding a way to deal with the poison, and he didn’t doubt Schu would make him pay if he didn’t, no matter what the wild child had been doing when he said it. Crawford knew his pixie as well as anyone could, and he knew he ought to be very concerned about being on such thin ice with the man.

Maybe later. Crawford didn’t feel like worrying right then.

***

“Moshi moshi.”

“You trace this call, Omittchi, and I’m sending naked pictures of you to the five most rabid fan girls.”

“You wouldn’t! You don’t–“

”I would, I do, for just this sort of thing. Try me, Tsukiyono.”

“Ahh…I understand, Yohji-kun. Are you all right? Is Aya-kun–“

”Right here,” Yohji moaned, “thank God…”

“Err…do you–“

”Aya! Ohh…”

“Anou, Yohji-kun, Birman wants to know–“

”When we—ahhaha!–we feel like it, we’ll be–oooh, more!…”

“Yohji-kun! Stop it!”

“Stop what, O–oh, oh, yesss…”

The line went dead. Yohji clicked the phone shut with a chuckle. Across the kitchen, Aya glared from under his bangs as he stirred dinner.

“Was that really necessary?”

“You said we should call!” The glare continued, but it was an F3 at best. Aya wasn’t really mad. Yohji crossed his arms. “Mou, Ayan! He deserved it and you know it!” He sauntered over to his lover. “Besides,” he murmured into that glorious hair, slipping his arms around that hot body, “I didn’t say anything I didn’t mean at least six times in the last twelve hours.”

“Only six?” Aya growled. And shut the fire off under the soup. Yohji ran, but he didn’t get far.

He hadn’t meant to.

***

“This was not my idea. Why am I watching this damn dog?”

“Because helping you get laid put Nagi behind on his project. You want your little assassin to keep his averages up, ne?”

“It’s white,” Crawford grumbled. “We’re Schwarz. We should have a black dog.”

“You wear white all the time.”

“It’s fluffy. Cute. Friendly.”

Schuldig laughed. “Farf is fluffy, Nagi is cute, and I’m friendly.”

Crawford snorted. “You bite more than that dog ever will.”

His pixie laughed again, and bit him. But when Crawford shoved the wild child against the shed to retaliate, Schuldig twisted free and twirled away and didn’t come back.

Damn it.

***

“Ahh…” Yohji groped for his cigarettes, but he couldn’t seem to lift his arm. Aya chuckled and shoved them into his hand. “Thanks.” He lit one and let himself go back to flat on the rug. He was taking it home with him, just in case there was something about the rug itself that made Aya so–

“Oi, Aya,” he said, “Where did you learn that, anyway?” While he was grocery shopping, Yohji had figured out, Aya had been doing his own shopping. Nothing too kinky–yet–but definitely more creative than he’d have expected from the redhead.

Aya chuckled again, the man was definitely smug. Have to do something about that, just as soon as he could move a muscle…

“I read a lot,” Aya answered.

“Temee! Seriously, Aya-chan said–“ urp, shut up, Kudou! “I mean–“

”Aya-chan said what?”

Che. “She–when she thought we–I mean–“

”Stop stuttering, Kudou, I left my katana in my room.”

“That doesn’t mean a damn thing,” Yohji said. Aya snorted.

“What did Aya-chan say?”

“She thought I was your first lover. But you can’t tell me–“

“Aya-chan is not as–up-to-date–as she believes about my sex life. I see no reason to explain that to her.”

“I’m…jealous.”

“Kudou, don’t be st–“ Aya cut himself off. Yohji didn’t comment, he knew the man was trying. Aya leaned over him. “Yohji,” he said softly, “don’t–“ he stopped again, Yohji finally identified this as Aya trying to say something in a not-hurtful way. Geez, he was eighteen when his life turned into a train wreck, you’d think the man would have some social skills…

Yohji was beginning to realize that Aya-chan speaking for her brother was not a new development. Aya talked like a poet when they were making love, but other times he just got in his own way. The redhead wanted to say things perfectly, and usually what he meant came out blunt and brutal, or not at all, because of it.

“Just say it,” Yohji encouraged.

“Don’t–make this more than it is. I mean–“

”Aya, I hope you aren’t saying I should just enjoy this because when we go back to Tokyo everything will be the way it was, because if you are, you are going to see me cry.” Oh, good, Kudou, emotional blackmail–

But, “No!” Aya said, then raised an eyebrow. “Cry?”

“Whatever it takes.” Yohji shrugged. “I’m not giving you up, Aya.”

“Yohji…” Aya sat up, looked away, “let’s just…enjoy until we don’t, all right? No jealousy, no promises, nothing to make this…to mess this up.”

Nothing to make it more than sex. Fuck. Did you really think getting laid would fix everything, Kudou?

Well. It sure helped. And they could work it out, arguing with Aya had to be a lot safer when he was naked and enjoying afterglow.

Speaking of…

***

“Schu!”

“Kudou.” Schuldig smirked and took the other chair. “You’re alone?”

“Yes, and you’re damn lucky, or Aya would have skewered you by now.”

“He’d have tried.”

“So,” Yohji sipped his latte, “how’s it going?” His green eyes sparkled. “Getting any?”

“Some. You?”

Yohji snorted. “Not enough, since we got back to town.”

The telepath leaned forward. “When?”

“Sunday. You?”

“Me too. What time?”

Yohji shook his head. “I wasn’t looking at a clock.”

“Me either.”

“Draw?”

“Damn.” Schuldig shrugged as a waitress brought him a triple espresso shake. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve discovered a severe hatred for leashes.”

Yohji made a face. “Find out how he did it?”

“Aa.”

“Make him pay?”

“On the installment plan. He’s no fun dead.”

“Schu,” Yohji stuck a finger in his foam, licked it off, “that’s not how to build a healthy relationship.”

“Hell of a lot you know about it.” Schuldig pulled his straw out of the shake, to lick down its length.

“Well,” Yohji allowed, “Aya won’t let me talk about us. He wants to keep it just sex.”

“Poor you.”

“Fuck off.”

“So,” Schuldig leaned forward again, “Is Red a natural?”

“Aa. Crawford hung like a bear?”

“Aa.”

“How’s the sex?” Yohji asked. Schuldig grinned.

“Fucking awesome. You?”

“Mind-blowing.”

Schuldig lifted his shake. “Makes it worthwhile, ne?”

Yohji lifted his glass, saluted his friend. “Hai.”

*********************************************** *******************

It’s done, it’s done, I did it, hahaha!!! (That’s a skirl of manic laughter, there…)

Sequel? No! No, there will be no sequel, no…oh hell, maybe. But it won’t be soon, sorry, reality returns Monday.  (there is, now, a sequel.  And a sequel to the sequel, barely begun.)

If you’ve enjoyed this story and haven’t reviewed, please do! Please, please, pretty please? With sugar and Yohji on top?