Current mood:	weird
Entry tags:	weiss_kreuz

Ficlet: Body
Title: Body
Fandom: Weiss Kreuz
Pairing: Schuldig/Nagi
Rating: NC-17
Notes: koijewel wanted: "Schuldig x nagi The wrongness continues." I'm not sure if that was intended to mean the specific wrongness that was Blood, but this is a sequel to that nonetheless.

..___..


Nagi was still sitting in the car when Schuldig came down to find him.

Schuldig leaned down and propped his elbows on the edge of the half-open window. "Gonna sulk in here all night, kid?"

I'm not sulking. I'm thinking.

Nagi was the only non-telepath SChuldig had ever met who actually preferred telepathic conversations. It left Schuldig well disposed towards him, even though he knew it was mostly because Nagi just didn't like to talk.

"Funny. Looks like sulking. But then it usually does on you."

Go away, Schuldig.

"You know, I could just stop monitoring you. You'd have to actually talk to tell me to fuck off."

"Fuck off."

Schuldig opened the car door and hauled Nagi out. In the next second, he found himself levitated and shoved backwards until his body hit the concrete wall. His head bounced off it, and he winced, vision blurring.

When his head cleared, Nagi was standing in front of him. Their eyes were on a level, and it took Schuldig a second to realize that Nagi was standing on thin air, a few inches off the floor.

You said it would work.

Schuldig rubbed his head, squinting through eyes that still felt vaguely unfocused.

"Not my fault you couldn't convince him."

Nagi neither said nor thought anything in reply, but he was radiating anger and embarrassment--more than the constant, lowgrade I'm-a-broody-teenager cloud he usually wore. The anger was currently beating out the embarrassment.

Calming people down was not, Schuldig knew, his strong suit. But he liked his skull the shape it was.

"Look," he said quickly. "How was I supposed to know Crawford would have moral qualms? I mean, come on."

"You're a telepath."

Schuldig wondered whether it was a good sign that Nagi was talking out loud or a bad one. He probed Nagi's shields and got an invisible hand tightening around his neck for his trouble.

"I can't know stuff he doesn't know himself!"

Nagi let him go abruptly, and he dropped to the ground, rubbing his throat.

"Jesus, kid. Take some goddamn Paxil and get yourself a real boyfriend, girlfriend, canine companion, whatever the fuck, but--" He lurched to his feet and drove his fist into Nagi's jaw with all the force of his upward motion. "But don't ever fucking mess with me like that again and expect to live."

Nagi staggered back a step and wiped away the trickle of blood from his lip. He nodded calmly, and his anger subsided to less dangerous levels.

Schuldig stood up straighter and brushed down his clothes. He leaned close and nudged Nagi's hand away from his mouth, licked across the cut. This close, he could feel the small spike of pain like it was his own.

Dark eyes watched him steadily, waiting.

Want to make him jealous? Schuldig asked.

He won't care.

But there was uncertainty in Nagi's answer, a small peak of hope that felt not unlike the earlier pain.

I can show him what we're doing, Schuldig told him. You honestly think he won't care if he sees that?

Schuldig felt the small click of acceptance, thoughts and feelings sliding into the correct shape, the shape he'd been pushing towards. He didn't wait for Nagi to say it, just grabbed his wrist and towed him along.

When they reached the apartment and passed Crawford's open office door, there was the expected surge of outrage.

You lost your chance, Brad. Sit down and shut up.

This was obviously Schuldig's day, because Crawford did, all the anger slowly leaking out of him. Schuldig could barely feel it at all by the time he had Nagi underneath him on the bed.

His hands popped open buttons on automatic while his mind reached for Crawford's. No words, just an invitation, a few images. He couldn't force this connection, not without consequences he wasn't willing to face, but he didn't think he'd have to.

At first, Crawford refused, wordless, indignant. Schuldig showed him Nagi's face as Schuldig stroked his cock; lips parted, still faintly sheened with lip gloss, eyes closed. Crawford's fading determination felt almost as good as Nagi's physical pleasure. He'd never seen Crawford weak before.

He knelt between Nagi's legs, pushed his shirt open, pushed his skirt up. No underwear, he told Crawford. See? I was trying to make it easy for you. Nagi gasped and bucked into his hand, and he could feel Crawford's reaction.

Nagi, on the other hand, was entirely blocked. Schuldig was getting only basic emotions; hope, anger, fear, all subsumed by desire. Only what leaked through his shields, and his shields were like steel.

You're missing out, kid.

No response. He hadn't really expected one. That was fine. He had Crawford, and Crawford was more than enough.

No one's ever done this to him before, he told Crawford, as he bent to take Nagi's cock in his mouth. It could've been you.

There was a surge of furious desire that almost made Schuldig come in his pants. He felt his mouth stretch in a fierce smile around Nagi's cock. There were times when it was good to be what he was.

Nagi came fast, hard, without a sound. The second he was done, invisible hands pushed Schuldig off the bed, steadily backwards, out into the hall. The door locked with a click.

Crawford spoke over the connection still open between them, mental voice nearly slurred with rage or lust, or both. Get in here. Now.

Schuldig smiled quietly to himself. Whatever you say, Brad. You're the boss.

-------
..end..