Deep Inside of You part 10
Nagi heard the front door open and close, and heaved a little sigh of relief. He’d half expected not to hear those sounds at all tonight, and his eyelids were feeling so heavy…
He laid his book aside on the nightstand and rolled over onto his side, waiting patiently as he listened to the muffled sounds from downstairs. Boots hitting the floor, the sound of the refrigerator being opened and rifled through, the occasional muttered comment… Eventually, there was the sound of feet pounding up the staircase in an uncharacteristically noisy approach, then Schuldig was hanging in the open door of Nagi’s room, grinning like some demented demon.
Nagi smiled back at him a bit less enthusiastically. He was glad to see the older man, but he was also tired.
"You’re up past your bedtime," Schuldig scolded, still grinning as he wagged an admonishing finger at Nagi and strolled into the room, only weaving slightly.
Nagi rolled his eyes. "It’s only two. I’m getting tired, but it’s hard to fall asleep this early anyway," he complained, shifting over slightly as Schuldig sat down on the edge of the bed, leather and vinyl creaking slightly as he moved. Nagi studied the outfit with raised eyebrows. He hadn’t seen Schuldig before he’d gone out tonight. "You’re certainly dressed to impress. Does Farf know you raided his wardrobe?" Nagi asked with a smirk.
Schuldig gave him a mock-offended look, the effect slightly spoiled by the way his mouth seemed determined to curve in a grin. "I did not!" he protested.
Nagi snorted in disbelief. "Okay, the pants are obviously yours, they’re too tacky even for Farf, but the vest is not. It’s too small to be yours, and you never flash that much skin if you can avoid it," Nagi observed, reaching out to run a fingertip down the firm curve of Schuldig’s bare biceps. His touch lingered a moment on a line of smooth, pale scar tissue.
Schuldig shivered slightly at the touch, his grin fading a bit. Nagi quickly pulled his hand away, sorry to have dimmed the older man’s mood.
"Yeah, well, that’s why I wore the bracers," Schuldig muttered, one hand fiddling with the lacing holding the leather and nylon sheaths around his forearms.
"So, where have you been, anyway?" Nagi asked brightly, hoping to bolster the German’s mood again.
Schuldig smirked at him and didn’t answer, but he looked pleased with himself. The bracer dropped to the floor and he went to work on the other one.
"What are you still doing up, Nagi? It’s usually Brad that waits for me," Schuldig pointed out absently, working at a knot in the leather thong.
Nagi scowled irritably at the bent head. "Don’t you ever listen?" he snapped. "Crawford’s in Germany."
Schuldig looked up, frowning in confusion. "Germany?" he repeated. "What the hell’s he doing in Germany?"
Nagi sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. "Do the words ‘annual performance review’ ring a bell?" he muttered.
"Nope," Schuldig replied cheerfully, dropping the other leather wrist sheath and rubbing at his forearms as he grinned at Nagi.
Nagi flopped over onto his back with a groan. "I knew you weren’t paying attention," he complained, in what he knew was perilously close to a whine. But he was tired, damn it, and he had just known Schuldig hadn’t been listening when Crawford explained about being commanded to come to Germany for his review, instead of having a simple videoconference. Crawford had been very tense about the whole thing, which probably accounted for the older man not noticing that Schuldig was mostly ignoring him. Nagi had noticed, but hadn’t wanted to get Schuldig in trouble by pointing out his inattention.
Of course, because of that, he had faced the possibility of getting no sleep at all tonight if Schuldig, unaware of Crawford’s absence, never bothered to come home, as was often the case lately. Nagi was very nervous about sleeping when he was alone in the house with Farferello. He could subdue the Irishman if he was awake, but what if he never got the chance to wake up?
Schuldig was frowning at him now, obviously picking up his train of thought, and Nagi flushed slightly, embarrassed to be caught with his mental pants down and thinking such craven thoughts.
"Hey, don’t sweat it, kid. Farfie scares me sometimes," Schuldig informed him, waving away Nagi’s embarrassment.
"Well, anyway, I’m glad you came home," Nagi muttered, looking down at the sheet to avoid Schuldig’s too-alert eyes. It was probably much too late to try and hide the sense of comfort the German’s presence brought him, and that was, in a way, even more embarrassing than his fear of Farferello. Being scared of Farf was at least sensible. Feeling safe with Schuldig…
"It’s not so very stupid," Schuldig said quietly, and Nagi inadvertently looked up at the older man, finding the green eyes slightly warmer than he recalled having seen them before, even in their private moments together.
"Crawford says trust is always foolish," Nagi replied solemnly, falling back on lessons in practicality from their cold, controlled leader.
Schuldig only snorted and rolled his eyes. "Crawford says a lot of things," he declared dismissively. "Most of them aren’t worth listening to. You should follow my lead and tune him out."
Nagi smirked up at the older man. "But then nobody would know what was going on around here," he pointed out.
"Well, I suppose that’s true. God knows I can’t be bothered," Schuldig agreed. "But that doesn’t mean you should be all that respectful of the gospel according to Brad. There’s more to life than power and hate," Schuldig lectured, falling backwards to sprawl across Nagi’s legs.
Nagi nudged the German lightly with his knee in protest. "Get off me, jerk," he complained. "You’ve got your own bed, remember?"
"But it’s so far away," Schuldig complained. He did roll off of Nagi’s legs, but instead of getting up, he lifted his own legs onto the bed as well, and stretched out beside the irritated Japanese boy with a sigh.
"What the hell do you think you’re doing?" Nagi demanded tightly. "If you’re tired, go to bed."
"I just did," Schuldig replied drowsily.
"Not here," Nagi snapped, giving him a slight telekinetic push that rolled him onto his stomach.
Schuldig gazed imploringly at Nagi with one sleepy green eye, his face pressed into one of Nagi’s pillows.
"No," Nagi repeated firmly. "You’re not staying."
In reply, Schuldig closed his visible eye and snuggled against the pillow.
Nagi glared at him incredulously. This was…ridiculous! Schuldig had his own perfectly good bed not twenty feet away! Why did he have to decide to fall asleep here?
/ Cuz ‘m sleepy now, / Schuldig replied, his mental voice a soft murmur in Nagi’s mind.
Nagi let out a huff of annoyance and glowered at the ceiling, feeling very put out. He had to admit, though, that he was feeling very sleepy, too. Maybe it was Schuldig projecting his own weariness, or just the fact that Nagi had spent the past five hours dreading the moment he could no longer keep his eyes open and fell asleep alone with the psycho, but he was bushed. So much so that it suddenly didn’t seem worth the effort to try and evict Schuldig from the bed, either by arguing or by force.
"You’re a pain in the ass," Nagi muttered irritably.
"Yeah, but I’m cute," Schuldig declared, voice muffled by the pillow his face was still buried in.
Nagi snorted. "You keep thinking that," he replied dryly.
"Aww, Nagikins, you wound me. You don’t think I’m cute?" Schuldig prodded, turning his head to pout at Nagi.
Nagi rolled his eyes. "Puppies are cute. Wolves aren’t," he stated flatly.
One red eyebrow rose in interest. "So I’m a wolf?" he asked curiously.
Nagi frowned, reconsidering his own metaphor. "Not exactly," he said slowly. "More like a fox," he decided, thinking of mischievous kitsune. The image fit Schuldig rather well, he thought.
Schuldig leered at him exaggeratedly, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. "You mean you think I’m foxy, Nagi?" he teased.
"Damn it, Schu! Knock it off!" Nagi snapped irritably. He hated it when the teasing turned sexual. He knew Schuldig didn’t mean anything by it. That was why he did feel safe with the German, foolish as it might seem. But it was still unsettling. Schuldig was much older than he was, and bigger and stronger… Older, bigger and stronger would probably always set off warning bells in Nagi’s subconscious.
"Settle down, kiddo, you know I’m just kidding," Schuldig insisted, the leer shifting to a smirk. "Besides, I’d have to throw you back anyway. You’re below the legal limit," he added, lifting a hand and holding his index finger and thumb a few inches apart as if in measurement. "Too small," Schuldig concluded sadly, eyes glinting wickedly.
Nagi stared at him in confusion for a moment, then his eyes widened and he felt himself flush as he got the joke.
"You jerk!" he shouted, whipping Schuldig’s pillow out from under the German’s head with his powers and whacking him with it repeatedly. "I’ve still got a lot of growing to do, you know! And besides, it’s not that small!"
"All right, all right, I believe you!" Schuldig protested, chuckling even as he tried to block Nagi’s attack with his arms. "Cut it out already! I’m trying to sleep here!"
"If you’re going to insult me, you can just haul your sorry ass over to your own bed where it belongs," Nagi muttered as he gave Schuldig one final wallop with the pillow before letting it drop on his head.
"Okay, I’m sorry, I’ll be good," Schuldig apologized, sounding less than sincere.
Nagi snorted his opinion of Schuldig’s remorse and flopped back down on the mattress, pointedly turning his back on the older man. Schuldig turned off the light, and they lay there in silence for a while before the mattress bounced slightly. Nagi stiffened a bit as one of Schuldig’s arms was draped over his waist, but didn’t protest. Apparently taking this as permission, the German moved closer, spooning his taller form against Nagi’s back.
That was...a little unsettling at first, but Schuldig didn’t do anything else, just laid there, and eventually Nagi decided it really wasn’t so bad. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had held him in the dark. It was actually…kind of nice. Except for one thing.
"Could you at least take the pants off?" Nagi requested.
Schuldig was silent a moment, then replied teasingly, "Now, Nagikins, I already told you I was just joking before…"
"Shut up, jerk. Unlike you, I’m just not used to encountering long, hard, plastic objects in my bed," Nagi shot back, smirking to himself in the dark.
"Ooh, good one," Schuldig critiqued with a chuckle. The warm body pressed lightly against Nagi’s back moved away, and he felt the mattress bouncing, accompanied by soft grunts and the creaking of vinyl as Schuldig struggled out of the tight pants. Finally, the German gave a satisfied sigh and pressed against Nagi’s back again, slipping the arm around his waist again. With his back resting against Schuldig’s chest, Nagi could tell he’d removed the leather vest as well. It probably wouldn’t have been very comfortable to sleep in, he supposed.
"Is that better?" Schuldig demanded after a moment.
"Mm-hmm," Nagi murmured, still trying to decide exactly how he felt about this situation. On the one hand, Schuldig was warm, and it was always sort of vaguely comforting, in a mildly disturbing way, to be this close to the older man. But on the other hand…he was still older, bigger and stronger.
"Why are you doing this?" Nagi asked quietly, when he couldn’t stand the indecision any longer.
At first Schuldig didn’t respond, and Nagi thought perhaps the German hadn’t heard him, or was already asleep. But eventually, Schuldig replied slowly, "I just… I’ve sort of gotten used to…not sleeping alone, lately."
Nagi considered this statement. It was true that Schuldig had been spending most of his nights elsewhere for a while now. Since they were between assignments, Crawford didn’t seem to care what the German did with his time as long as Schuldig wasn’t getting in his hair. Nagi had been slightly worried at first, when Schuldig started spending so much time away, but there didn’t seem to be any harmful side effects to whatever the older man was doing on his own. He’d actually seemed to be in a better mood a lot of the time, lately. Sometimes he was tense and irritable, but that was just Schuldig. On his best days, he was not exactly a people person.
Schuldig’s lightened spirits had reassured Nagi a bit about his friend, and he hadn’t worried so much about the German’s odd behavior back around the time of Takatori’s demise. Whatever had been bothering Schuldig seemed to have resolved itself. He had worried about what exactly Schuldig could be doing now that put him in such a damn-near-annoyingly good mood, but Crawford’s lack of concern had led him to dismiss most of his own nervousness.
Now he was feeling worried again, though. If he were interpreting Schuldig’s words correctly, it seemed the German had taken a lover…
Schuldig snorted. "Don’t I wish," he muttered ruefully. "More of…a friend."
Nagi frowned slightly, feeling an irrational stab of jealousy at the idea of Schuldig having a friend outside of Schwarz. He swiftly repressed his reaction, and instead focussed on the very real concern such an idea provoked. They were assassins. Any sort of outside attachments were dangerous, and could only end in unhappiness on both sides. They could never be fully honest about themselves, and if by some chance some acquaintance found out about their secrets, even if they proved miraculously capable of handling the truth, that knowledge was as good as a death warrant. If Schuldig had a ‘friend,’ Nagi couldn’t understand how Crawford could have allowed such a thing to happen…
"You really do worry too much, you know," Schuldig commented, the arm around Nagi’s waist squeezing briefly. "Brad doesn’t give a shit because my…friend…already knows about us anyway. What we are, at least. And Brad knows I’m not stupid enough to reveal any deep dark secrets the guy doesn’t already know."
"He knows about Schwarz?" Nagi asked incredulously. Who was this person? Only a very few people on this entire island nation knew about them, and there weren’t any in that number that Nagi could conceive of Schuldig befriending…
But there was that one, nagging, unresolved question…
"Tell me…your friend…tell me it’s not who I think it is," Nagi requested, feeling cold.
"Who do you think it is?" Schuldig prodded.
Nagi thought of a name.
"Sorry, kiddo, got it in one," Schuldig informed him.
"How stupid can you be?" Nagi demanded angrily, stiffening beneath Schuldig’s arm.
"What’s the matter, Nags, you don’t like Yohji?" Schuldig asked lightly, completely ignoring Nagi’s tension.
"Schu…he’s Weiss," Nagi pointed out incredulously.
"Was Weiss," Schuldig corrected quickly. "Now he’s just a florist. They’re disbanded, remember?"
"Well, yeah, but…he’s still - "
"Look, Nagi, even when Weiss was active, they were never a serious threat. Brad didn’t even consider them worth the trouble of killing, remember?" Schuldig asked reasonably.
Nagi hated it when Schuldig took a reasonable tone with him. He was supposed to be the reasonable, rational one. Schuldig was the melodramatic one, the one who overreacted to things, the one who deserved that condescending tone.
"What if things change?" Nagi snapped irritably. "Kritiker is still around, even if they’re kind of disorganized at the moment. Who’s to say they won’t get their act together and reactivate Weiss?"
Schuldig was quiet long enough for Nagi to feel the small, bitter triumph of knowing he’d suggested a possibility the German hadn’t considered. Nagi had put a lot of thought into just this sort of situation himself, in weighing the pros and cons of his tentative relationship with Tot. And Scherient hadn’t ever been as much their enemies as Weiss, even if they hadn’t exactly been allies.
But the bitterness Nagi felt came from his realization that he was attempting to argue Schuldig out of the...friendship that had made him so relaxed recently. Happier than Nagi had seen him in years. Actually…happier than Nagi had ever seen him. Was it really such a terrible thing? And even if it was, what right did he have to go sticking his nose into the German’s private affairs? Schuldig had steered clear of the entire Tot issue with remarkable consideration.
Nagi sighed. "Look, Schu, I’m sorry, I’m just being paranoid. Forget I said anything," he muttered, feeling suddenly guilty.
"No…no, you’re right. I don’t like to think that could happen, but…it could. I should be thinking about it," Schuldig murmured thoughtfully, his arm tightening its hold on Nagi just slightly.
They laid there silently for a while, Nagi feeling like a jerk for raining on Schuldig’s parade. So he was friends with one of Weiss. Crawford didn’t seem concerned, so who was Nagi to make a big stink about it? Schuldig had little enough that made him happy…
"Well, it doesn’t matter now anyway," Schuldig suddenly declared firmly. "If things change, then…I’ll deal with it when it happens. I already told one person tonight I’m not a precog, I don’t know what the hell’s going to happen. I don’t even know if this friendship thing will last. But as long as it does…"
Nagi felt a little better hearing the resolution in Schuldig’s voice. He was glad the older man hadn’t taken Nagi’s fears too much to heart. But he was also glad Schuldig was at least acknowledging the possibility that he was walking on dangerous ground.
After another long silent moment, when Nagi had almost fallen into sleep at last, Schuldig called his name again softly, almost hesitantly.
"Hmm?" Nagi murmured, half awake.
"Listen, kid… Even if…things do change… If you’re ever in trouble and you need…help, protection or something, and I’m…not available… Got to the Kitten in the House," Schuldig ordered quietly.
"Kitten in the house? What’s that?" Nagi asked in sleepy confusion.
"It’s the flowershop," Schuldig replied.
Nagi felt himself wake up again abruptly. Schuldig had adamantly refused to share most of the knowledge he’d gained from his encounters with Weiss, declaring them his own personal toys. He’d taken Farferello along to play a bit, but the Irishman was useless as a source of information. He could speak Japanese, but not read it, and had no memory for details or direction anyway.
Nagi was amazed Schuldig would take even the very small risk that Nagi would tell Crawford what he’d just learned…
"He either knows by now, or sincerely doesn’t give a shit," Schuldig replied. "It’s not that big a secret, really. I just like to be difficult."
Nagi snorted at this understatement, then contemplated Schuldig’s words for a while. "You really think they’d help me if I needed it?" he asked curiously.
"Omi I don’t know," Schuldig admitted. "And Aya’s long gone, apparently. But Ken… I’m pretty sure would. And Yohji, definitely."
"You trust him," Nagi said in surprised realization.
"Yeah, I do," Schuldig replied without hesitation. "Weird, huh?"
"If I needed help…it would be against things they couldn’t hope to defend me from," Nagi pointed out quietly.
"They’d try anyway," Schuldig replied, the German’s voice holding a note of the same bafflement Nagi had heard in his own.
"Are there really people like that in the world?" Nagi asked quietly, feeling very small, and very young, and almost afraid of the answer.
Schuldig chuckled softly in the darkness, a comforting warmth against Nagi’s back. "Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus," he replied wryly. But Nagi could hear the faint note of wonder in his voice.
After that, they didn’t speak again. Schuldig quickly fell asleep, his breath warm against the top of Nagi’s head. Nagi laid there in the darkness and lightly gripped the older man’s hand, and wrestled with the new and unsettling concept of a world that contained more than hate and pain and fear.