Weiß Kruez, 030: Blood, Back to Sanity
Title: Back to Sanity
Author/Authoress: purkledragon
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the characters; it pleases me just to abuse them for a little while.
Theme/Challenge: 030: Blood
Fandom: Weiß Kreuz
Pairing: Crawford x Schuldig
Rating: Adult 18+
It's going to be a mess when they come back. Crawford sees this ahead of time and has Nagi prepare the pathway from the door they will enter to Farfarello's room. They've done this often enough that Nagi has everything prepared, was only waiting for conformation from Crawford that it would be needed. The other two members of their team return. Nagi takes Farfarello from Schuldig telekinetically, refusing to touch the blood covered Irishman more than necessary, leaving Crawford to deal with the equally crimson soaked telepath.
Schuldig is already on his way to the other room before Nagi has retreated with Farfarello. Crawford follows the redhead, picking up various discarded articles of clothing, headband, coat, shoes, before they stain the carpet. A dark red hand print upon the slightly open door to Crawford's room is the only signal that the trail has ended, but not at the bathroom as expected. Crawford enters, wiping at the door with one of the pieces in his hands without looking at it. Instead, Crawford's eyes scan the darkness to make out where the errant telepath is located.
Schuldig?
No answer comes; Crawford walks further into the room headed for the lamp sitting on the bedside table as the light switch does not work. The crush of glass underfoot explains the problem with the overhead light, although not how or why. Before Crawford reaches the lamp Schuldig is standing in front of him; the sharp smell of blood overpowers any other scent in the room. Confused, Crawford tries to make out the look on Schuldig's face, the dim light that barely passes through partially opened blinds is not helping. Crawford tries once more, reaching toward the lamp.
Crawford rationalizes that Schuldig is still high from the after effects of an outing with Farfarello, this is why he only pauses momentarily as Schuldig stops him from reaching the light. The blood, still wet but not warm, seeps into Crawford's own clothing as Schuldig presses against him. Hot breath touches Crawford's face just before Schuldig attempts to jump down his throat, the taste of blood a sharp slap of reality. Crawford now worries over two ruined suits, and wonders just whose blood it is the two are sharing and if medical tests are in order. Schuldig's hands move over Crawford's ass and Crawford stops thinking, letting himself become caught in the flurried projection of heat and lust.
Schuldig hurriedly works at Crawford's fly, button and zipper undone in a flash. Pants pulled down then off, Crawford falls upon the bed as Schuldig pushes him back. The rest of Schuldig's clothing ends up in a pile tossed to the side.
Schuldig pounces, kneeling astride Crawford's legs. Both are already hard, Schuldig still wraps his hand around Crawford's dick fisting him with more intensity than normal. Changing positions, Schuldig moves up swiftly penetrating himself upon Crawford. Crawford's hands go to Schuldig's hips, forcing him down with each thrust. Hard, needy desperation comes off the telepath in waves along with complete desire.
Even in this state, Schuldig is too quiet, usually prefering to hear his own voice if nothing else. Crawford reaches toward the table, a common move to discard glasses saving them from the necessity of replacement, and turns on the light instead. Schuldig's movements do not stop, as he still desperately seeks release, head arched back, red hair spilling everywhere. Blood that soaked through clothing still clings to Schuldig's skin, once bright red it is slowly drying to darker brown against pale white. When Schuldig opens his eyes the pale green doesn't completely surprise Crawford. Yellow overlaid blue eyes look down on Crawford and there is an eerie, near confused, smile upon Schuldig's face.
Everything comes to a stop, as Crawford holds Schuldig still. “Pull back now.”
“Wasn't this what you wanted Brad?” It is impossible to overlay two accents on a third language, spoken by one person. Harder still for one person trying to figure out two accents focused into one language.
“Schuldig, pull back.”
The smile gets larger, as Schuldig tries instead to move. Crawford grabs Schuldig throwing him aside on the bed. Kneeling between Schuldig's legs, Crawford reenters him in one motion. “I didn't say I wouldn't fuck you, but it's going to be just you. Now come back.”
Crawford starts moving again thrusting into Schuldig, watching as green fades slowly out to blue, as less need for desperation of self fill Schuldig's thoughts. Harsh German fills Crawford's head, more cries of want, demands of the greedy and pleased. Crawford's own body tenses waiting for release, as it comes--
There is a knock at the door. It swings open, and Schuldig is standing just outside it looking little more than bored. “We're leaving. Any final instructions before the wanton destruction begins?”
It never does any good, but Crawford feels he should warn him anyway, “Don't get dragged too far in tonight.” He knows the telepath well enough to know that as usual Schuldig will do as he wants.
He's not sure if that's a bad thing or not in this case.
Author/Authoress: purkledragon
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the characters; it pleases me just to abuse them for a little while.
Theme/Challenge: 030: Blood
Fandom: Weiß Kreuz
Pairing: Crawford x Schuldig
Rating: Adult 18+
It's going to be a mess when they come back. Crawford sees this ahead of time and has Nagi prepare the pathway from the door they will enter to Farfarello's room. They've done this often enough that Nagi has everything prepared, was only waiting for conformation from Crawford that it would be needed. The other two members of their team return. Nagi takes Farfarello from Schuldig telekinetically, refusing to touch the blood covered Irishman more than necessary, leaving Crawford to deal with the equally crimson soaked telepath.
Schuldig is already on his way to the other room before Nagi has retreated with Farfarello. Crawford follows the redhead, picking up various discarded articles of clothing, headband, coat, shoes, before they stain the carpet. A dark red hand print upon the slightly open door to Crawford's room is the only signal that the trail has ended, but not at the bathroom as expected. Crawford enters, wiping at the door with one of the pieces in his hands without looking at it. Instead, Crawford's eyes scan the darkness to make out where the errant telepath is located.
Schuldig?
No answer comes; Crawford walks further into the room headed for the lamp sitting on the bedside table as the light switch does not work. The crush of glass underfoot explains the problem with the overhead light, although not how or why. Before Crawford reaches the lamp Schuldig is standing in front of him; the sharp smell of blood overpowers any other scent in the room. Confused, Crawford tries to make out the look on Schuldig's face, the dim light that barely passes through partially opened blinds is not helping. Crawford tries once more, reaching toward the lamp.
Crawford rationalizes that Schuldig is still high from the after effects of an outing with Farfarello, this is why he only pauses momentarily as Schuldig stops him from reaching the light. The blood, still wet but not warm, seeps into Crawford's own clothing as Schuldig presses against him. Hot breath touches Crawford's face just before Schuldig attempts to jump down his throat, the taste of blood a sharp slap of reality. Crawford now worries over two ruined suits, and wonders just whose blood it is the two are sharing and if medical tests are in order. Schuldig's hands move over Crawford's ass and Crawford stops thinking, letting himself become caught in the flurried projection of heat and lust.
Schuldig hurriedly works at Crawford's fly, button and zipper undone in a flash. Pants pulled down then off, Crawford falls upon the bed as Schuldig pushes him back. The rest of Schuldig's clothing ends up in a pile tossed to the side.
Schuldig pounces, kneeling astride Crawford's legs. Both are already hard, Schuldig still wraps his hand around Crawford's dick fisting him with more intensity than normal. Changing positions, Schuldig moves up swiftly penetrating himself upon Crawford. Crawford's hands go to Schuldig's hips, forcing him down with each thrust. Hard, needy desperation comes off the telepath in waves along with complete desire.
Even in this state, Schuldig is too quiet, usually prefering to hear his own voice if nothing else. Crawford reaches toward the table, a common move to discard glasses saving them from the necessity of replacement, and turns on the light instead. Schuldig's movements do not stop, as he still desperately seeks release, head arched back, red hair spilling everywhere. Blood that soaked through clothing still clings to Schuldig's skin, once bright red it is slowly drying to darker brown against pale white. When Schuldig opens his eyes the pale green doesn't completely surprise Crawford. Yellow overlaid blue eyes look down on Crawford and there is an eerie, near confused, smile upon Schuldig's face.
Everything comes to a stop, as Crawford holds Schuldig still. “Pull back now.”
“Wasn't this what you wanted Brad?” It is impossible to overlay two accents on a third language, spoken by one person. Harder still for one person trying to figure out two accents focused into one language.
“Schuldig, pull back.”
The smile gets larger, as Schuldig tries instead to move. Crawford grabs Schuldig throwing him aside on the bed. Kneeling between Schuldig's legs, Crawford reenters him in one motion. “I didn't say I wouldn't fuck you, but it's going to be just you. Now come back.”
Crawford starts moving again thrusting into Schuldig, watching as green fades slowly out to blue, as less need for desperation of self fill Schuldig's thoughts. Harsh German fills Crawford's head, more cries of want, demands of the greedy and pleased. Crawford's own body tenses waiting for release, as it comes--
There is a knock at the door. It swings open, and Schuldig is standing just outside it looking little more than bored. “We're leaving. Any final instructions before the wanton destruction begins?”
It never does any good, but Crawford feels he should warn him anyway, “Don't get dragged too far in tonight.” He knows the telepath well enough to know that as usual Schuldig will do as he wants.
He's not sure if that's a bad thing or not in this case.