(no subject)
Title Obsession: Details and Direction
Rating R
Characters Schuldig, Crawford
Summary A reward for good behaviour - or is it simply a means to assert dominance?
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
“You can't bring her home.”
There was never any room left to question Crawford when he made his demands, and that annoyed Schuldig.
“Why not?” The majority of the time he did away with his aggravation and followed blindly, but he'd just been forced to endure an hour and a half of bullshit conversation about cigars and he was willing to take it out on anyone.
Crawford didn't answer. He never answered these questions.
“I'm bored, I need something to do tonight. I've already looked into it, no one will miss her.” He plead his case as he walked around to the driver's side of the red sports car, swinging his keys around on his finger.
“You already have something to do tonight.”
The telepath's eyes rose up to look across the car, but by then his companion had already slid into his seat. Schuldig quickly wrenched his door open and sat down, one leg still on the ground outside. “And what's that? It better not be some bullshit private assignment you dreamed up for me in retaliation of me leaving you alone with Takatori,” Schuldig fixed Crawford with a glare, expecting exactly that which he had detailed.
Instead of confirmation he was met with an amused smirk. “It's not.”
Schuldig waited, holding his breath while narrowing his eyes towards the other man. Surely he couldn't mean... “Are we fucking tonight?”
Crawford showed no signs of acknowledging the question, his eyes now directed on the world outside of the windshield. “Start the car.”
Schuldig did as requested, drawing his left foot inside and slamming his door shut. It had been some time since he and Crawford had spent the night together, and the very possibility of it happening again left all of his questions on the gravel, ground into dust under the squealing tires.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He wrapped his legs more tightly around Crawford's waist, shoving himself against the other man, shoving himself onto the other man. All thoughts of that redheaded woman from the party were gone, the past three days worth of silent and secret contemplation about Tot's broken mind were gone. All that existed right now was the silence in his head, the fingers in his hair, the hand wrapped around his neck, and the dick in his ass. Everything was so unusually simple at that moment - even if he'd tried to fill his head with thoughts, Crawford would have wiped them clean. He always thought momentarily that he ought to be concerned about the American's ability to manipulate his mind, but he always seemed to forget to bring it up when they'd finished fucking.
“Stop thinking, that's the whole point of these sessions.”
Schuldig grinned at the comment, peering down at Crawford's composed face. “You make this sound like a chore rather than a reward,” he traced his fingers over the skin of the American's chest, as though he were writing words.
“A reward for who? What have you done lately that's deserving of a reward?” Crawford's expression took on a slight tone of amusement, his smile reaching his eyes finally.
Schuldig leaned over, closing his mouth down on Crawford's neck. “Can't answer that, I'd have to think about it and you told me not to think, so we'll just compromise and say that you're the one who's being rewarded,” he pressed his mouth to the jugular vein, feeling the pulse and throb as the blood rushed through the artery.
Crawford pulled on the clump of red hair in his hands, Schuldig's face rising back until he could stare his partner in the eyes. “Some great reward,” there was a hint of sarcasm in his voice, and it drove the German mad, even though he knew Crawford wasn't really questioning his ability at all. He was simply playing with him, toying with his ego.
He fell for it every time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I do still trust you.”
The words caught him off guard - they usually didn't speak after sex, at least not out loud.
“You're the only person in the world who I trust.”
“I think you must have fucked me a little too hard,” Schuldig rolled over on to his side, propping himself up on his elbow. He gazed down into the face of the American, confused about his comment. It was very unlike him.
“You're not delusional, and I'm not swimming in the euphoric afterglow of our love making,” that sarcastic tone was back, “but I do trust you.”
He studied the brown eyes looking up at him, trying to gauge what Crawford was playing at with this line of conversation. Was he trying to breed another level of commitment? What was the deal? There was always a deal with Crawford, always an ulterior motive. “Why do you trust me?”
At this question Crawford smirked and reached out with his hand, his fingers moving over Schuldig's cheek. “Because I can control you.”
Schuldig's face twisted with a frown. “You don't control me.”
Crawford's face alit with a grin. “You enjoy it, don't delude yourself.” The hand retreated from Schuldig's face.
Huffing in annoyance, Schuldig settled his head back onto the pillow, drawing his feet up so his knees were bent, purposefully pulling the sheets out of their tucked in corners at the end of the bed. He didn't respond to the comment, not until he felt Crawford shift beside him, coming closer and snaking an arm across his chest, pressing his mouth against the flesh of Schuldig's bicep. It was so very hard to resist him when he was like this, playful and aggressive and so very unlike his usual self that Schuldig almost didn't recognize him.
“Tot will create problems for all of us, but especially for you.”
“Are you worried about me?”
“You may be forced into hiding, and that would end our partnership.”
“You are worried about me.”
Silence greeted his comment, but he could feel Crawford's mouth drawn up at the corners, as though he were still amused by all of this. Schuldig made up his mind then, and turned onto his side, facing the American.
“You're right, I do enjoy it.” He mimicked the smirk he saw on Crawford's face, hating that he was being forced into submission yet again. But this was how they worked, and even though he sometimes hated it, he couldn't contemplate any other life. “Will you tell me what exactly I have in store for myself?”
“No.”
He wasn't surprised. A little disappointed, perhaps, but not surprised. “Why don't you ever give me details?”
Crawford studied him silently for a moment before answering. “Because you don't need details. You just need direction.”
Rating R
Characters Schuldig, Crawford
Summary A reward for good behaviour - or is it simply a means to assert dominance?
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
“You can't bring her home.”
There was never any room left to question Crawford when he made his demands, and that annoyed Schuldig.
“Why not?” The majority of the time he did away with his aggravation and followed blindly, but he'd just been forced to endure an hour and a half of bullshit conversation about cigars and he was willing to take it out on anyone.
Crawford didn't answer. He never answered these questions.
“I'm bored, I need something to do tonight. I've already looked into it, no one will miss her.” He plead his case as he walked around to the driver's side of the red sports car, swinging his keys around on his finger.
“You already have something to do tonight.”
The telepath's eyes rose up to look across the car, but by then his companion had already slid into his seat. Schuldig quickly wrenched his door open and sat down, one leg still on the ground outside. “And what's that? It better not be some bullshit private assignment you dreamed up for me in retaliation of me leaving you alone with Takatori,” Schuldig fixed Crawford with a glare, expecting exactly that which he had detailed.
Instead of confirmation he was met with an amused smirk. “It's not.”
Schuldig waited, holding his breath while narrowing his eyes towards the other man. Surely he couldn't mean... “Are we fucking tonight?”
Crawford showed no signs of acknowledging the question, his eyes now directed on the world outside of the windshield. “Start the car.”
Schuldig did as requested, drawing his left foot inside and slamming his door shut. It had been some time since he and Crawford had spent the night together, and the very possibility of it happening again left all of his questions on the gravel, ground into dust under the squealing tires.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He wrapped his legs more tightly around Crawford's waist, shoving himself against the other man, shoving himself onto the other man. All thoughts of that redheaded woman from the party were gone, the past three days worth of silent and secret contemplation about Tot's broken mind were gone. All that existed right now was the silence in his head, the fingers in his hair, the hand wrapped around his neck, and the dick in his ass. Everything was so unusually simple at that moment - even if he'd tried to fill his head with thoughts, Crawford would have wiped them clean. He always thought momentarily that he ought to be concerned about the American's ability to manipulate his mind, but he always seemed to forget to bring it up when they'd finished fucking.
“Stop thinking, that's the whole point of these sessions.”
Schuldig grinned at the comment, peering down at Crawford's composed face. “You make this sound like a chore rather than a reward,” he traced his fingers over the skin of the American's chest, as though he were writing words.
“A reward for who? What have you done lately that's deserving of a reward?” Crawford's expression took on a slight tone of amusement, his smile reaching his eyes finally.
Schuldig leaned over, closing his mouth down on Crawford's neck. “Can't answer that, I'd have to think about it and you told me not to think, so we'll just compromise and say that you're the one who's being rewarded,” he pressed his mouth to the jugular vein, feeling the pulse and throb as the blood rushed through the artery.
Crawford pulled on the clump of red hair in his hands, Schuldig's face rising back until he could stare his partner in the eyes. “Some great reward,” there was a hint of sarcasm in his voice, and it drove the German mad, even though he knew Crawford wasn't really questioning his ability at all. He was simply playing with him, toying with his ego.
He fell for it every time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I do still trust you.”
The words caught him off guard - they usually didn't speak after sex, at least not out loud.
“You're the only person in the world who I trust.”
“I think you must have fucked me a little too hard,” Schuldig rolled over on to his side, propping himself up on his elbow. He gazed down into the face of the American, confused about his comment. It was very unlike him.
“You're not delusional, and I'm not swimming in the euphoric afterglow of our love making,” that sarcastic tone was back, “but I do trust you.”
He studied the brown eyes looking up at him, trying to gauge what Crawford was playing at with this line of conversation. Was he trying to breed another level of commitment? What was the deal? There was always a deal with Crawford, always an ulterior motive. “Why do you trust me?”
At this question Crawford smirked and reached out with his hand, his fingers moving over Schuldig's cheek. “Because I can control you.”
Schuldig's face twisted with a frown. “You don't control me.”
Crawford's face alit with a grin. “You enjoy it, don't delude yourself.” The hand retreated from Schuldig's face.
Huffing in annoyance, Schuldig settled his head back onto the pillow, drawing his feet up so his knees were bent, purposefully pulling the sheets out of their tucked in corners at the end of the bed. He didn't respond to the comment, not until he felt Crawford shift beside him, coming closer and snaking an arm across his chest, pressing his mouth against the flesh of Schuldig's bicep. It was so very hard to resist him when he was like this, playful and aggressive and so very unlike his usual self that Schuldig almost didn't recognize him.
“Tot will create problems for all of us, but especially for you.”
“Are you worried about me?”
“You may be forced into hiding, and that would end our partnership.”
“You are worried about me.”
Silence greeted his comment, but he could feel Crawford's mouth drawn up at the corners, as though he were still amused by all of this. Schuldig made up his mind then, and turned onto his side, facing the American.
“You're right, I do enjoy it.” He mimicked the smirk he saw on Crawford's face, hating that he was being forced into submission yet again. But this was how they worked, and even though he sometimes hated it, he couldn't contemplate any other life. “Will you tell me what exactly I have in store for myself?”
“No.”
He wasn't surprised. A little disappointed, perhaps, but not surprised. “Why don't you ever give me details?”
Crawford studied him silently for a moment before answering. “Because you don't need details. You just need direction.”