Weiss Kreuz: Crawford/Yohji
Jul. 31st, 2007 08:41 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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kinkfestTitle: A Slow Realization
Author/Artist: D aka![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wk_recomend
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: SEX!! WOO!!
Word count: 12,100
Summary: Brad might have an advantage with his precognition, but that doesn't mean he's quick on the uptake.
A/N: Um…heh. This one sort of took off and I just had to hold on. ^_^
Prompt: Weiss Kreuz, Crawford/Any: up against a wall - one night in Bangkok.
part ii
Part I
He could taste the whiskey on Yohji's lips, chased the taste with his tongue and swallowed Yohji's moan. Yohji's fingers dug into his shoulders as he ground against Brad. Brad's breath hitched and he yanked Yohji's hips closer, plastering Yohji against him, pressing Yohji back into the glass wall. He devoured Yohji's mouth, spread his hands over Yohji's hip and lower back, wanting to slide his hand inside Yohji's pants, but finding them too tight. Yohji chuckled and pulled Brad's shirt out of his slacks, sliding his hands slowly up Brad's stomach.
Brad sucked in a deep breath as Yohji's fingers reached his pectorals. "Your pants are too tight." Brad cupped Yohji's ass, feeling and stroking though the tight material.
"Mmm…" Yohji murmured against Brad's neck. "And you're too built. I'm close to ripping your shirt off."
Brad grasped Yohji's wrist as Yohji's fingers caught at his nipple and traced two fingers up the seam of Yohji's pants. He rolled his hips, rubbing himself against the blade of Yohji's hip and flexing the thigh that Yohji was riding. Yohji's head fell back against the glass with a thunk and a loud moan.
Brad rolled onto his back and gazed at his ceiling through the darkness. His body was taught, the tension of intense arousal surging though him. His breath was uneven as he turned his head to look at his clock. 5:14. Too early for him to be awake, but not by much. It wasn't like he was going to be able to sleep after this.
He rolled out of bed, limped into his bathroom, unsuccessfully ignoring the burning ache between his legs. He didn't bother with the lights – there were plenty remembered when he closed his eyes – just turned on the shower and felt his way under the spray.
One hand bracing himself on the wall, he wrapped his other hand around himself, closed his eyes and remembered how Yohji felt against him, trapped between Brad and the wall. He took it from there, imagining that it was Yohji stroking his cock, that it was Yohji's cock he was tugging on.
He bent his head under the shower spray as Yohji's fingers explored his balls. There was cold metal under his naked ass and he was thankful he had the foresight to wash his car earlier. Yohji's panting breaths were moist and hot against his neck as Yohji slid back onto Brad's fingers. Yohji's fingers massaged his balls; slid back to rub behind them, twisted up his cock to circle the head, spread the liquid that had accumulated there.
Yohji licked his lips, tongue flicking against the tendon in Brad's neck. "You're leaking."
Brad gave a breathless laugh as Yohji's fingers slid back down his cock. "So are you." He had three fingers inside Yohji now and was slowly rolling Yohji's balls in his other hand. With each breath or jerk of his hips, Yohji's cock bounced against Brad's forearm, blotting moisture on his skin. The skin was tight where Yohji had left a drying trail while squirming when Brad had slid three fingers inside him.
"I'm going to bend you over my car and fuck you hard." Brad announced; gasping as Yohji slid his thumb up the vein under his cock. He twisted his fingers in Yohji to get in deep.
"You just washed your car, though." Yohji didn't sound as though he was protesting until Brad pulled his fingers free.
Brad pressed Yohji over the hood. "And now I'm going to drive around town with your semen drying on my car." Brad rubbed himself in the crevice of Yohji's ass and came, his guttural moan loud against the tiles of the shower, the spray beating hard on his neck, hot water sluicing down his back, winding down his thighs.
He unwound his fingers from around his softening penis, held his hand in the spray to rinse his fingers clean. His legs tingled, one knee wobbling slightly, and his head felt as though it were floating. Two visions essentially back to back, and his energy was shot. He slapped at the faucet, turning the water off and climbed carefully out of the shower. He kept one hand on the wall as he made his way back to bed. The languidness of sated desire loosened his limbs, unwinding his muscles one by one until he fell into bed, still wet from his shower and rolled into the blankets, unwilling to let his mind think about anything until he had gotten some sleep.
Brad's visions were peculiar from the other few precognitives in how vivid they were. Sometimes, when trapped in a vision, he had difficulty in differentiating between a vision and the present reality. There were always ways to tell, but it was usually once the vision had let him go, not during. While he couldn't understand how it was he had come to be fucking Yohji Kudo, it had been utterly real in those visions. And, of course, since almost all of Brad's visions came to pass, unless he worked specifically to avert the outcome – the vision still came to pass, it merely had a different outcome – this meant that at some point in the future, Brad really would be fucking Yohji Kudo.
While it was difficult, Brad certainly was capable of being surprised. And this was certainly a surprise. Especially the next vision that came on the heels of a particularly trying week riddled with jobs, research, evaluations, cleaning up the remains of two Catholic missionaries and little to no sleep.
His eyes were closed and he was relaxed, spread out on a comfortable bed, a feather pillow cushioning his temple and cheek. Strong fingers were pressing into the muscles of his back, releasing the tension and stress. He let out a groan as a particularly large knot was slowly loosened and received a breathy chuckle for it.
"When I first saw you tonight, I thought that you'd be too tense to be able to get undressed and lay down. And here you are, naked and relaxed, spread out on my bed like a treat." Yohji's voice was light and low, a sensual purr that alternatively lit Brad's nerves on fire and relaxed him further.
Brad smiled, feeling no pressing need to open his eyes. "It is a testament to the talent of your fingers, then."
A light kiss was pressed to the back of his neck. "Aw…not of any other talent I have?"
"You said not tonight, though I'd not be adverse."
Another kiss was dropped on his shoulder and Brad felt warm and safe, it was comforting and he never wanted it to end. "No. Tonight is about relaxing you. You work too damned hard, Brad. Let me take care of you." A warm hand slid down his flank, back up over his ass and dug into the flesh in the small of his back. He groaned, sinking further into the embrace of Yohji's bed. Fingers dug in on either side of his spine and Yohji's warm voice soothed him. "Just sleep, Brad. You need it."
The door to Brad's office opened, as did Brad's eyes. He stared up at the wide grin that Schuldig sent his way as he tried to comprehend this latest vision. He was going to let Yohji call him by his first name? He was shaken; though he was assured he did not show it. Schuldig certainly didn't find anything out of place as he stretched into one of Brad's chairs and put his feet up on Brad's desk. Brad shoved Schuldig's feet off, scowling when Schuldig's heel caught on a folder and sent it fluttering to the floor.
"All right, all right, you don't need to send the look of doom my way, Crawford, shit." Schuldig slid off of the chair to pick up the pages instead of needling Brad for being distraught. Brad was gratified for the verification that he was, indeed, keeping his turmoil locked down.
Schuldig slapped the folder on his desk. "So. You said we have a job tonight." Schuldig's grin showed nothing but teeth. Brad passed Schuldig the pertinent folder and began explaining the important points, all the while unable to get the gentleness and trust that had permeated every layer of that vision out of his mind.
Up until that vision, he had just been thinking that he needed to get laid, that he was desperate for some sort of pleasurable company and that was why his gift was showing him these enticing moments of the future. But this, this was so different, Brad almost couldn't comprehend it. Not until the job he and Schuldig ran that night. Or more precisely, after it.
It was the standard kill off the politician hopeful and his family for outstanding debts to the mafia, of which not all debts were monetary. In this situation, the politician hopeful was in the next prefecture over, some freshly scrubbed face thinking that he could reinvent the future of politics – make them cleaner, more honest. The mafia was, of course, the Yakuza, someone in the Yamaguchi-guchi who had a beef over the utopian fantasy the politician had been reaching for. It was a simple job: in, out and don't look back. Frame the wife for the murder of her husband and watch the media frenzy while sipping cocktails the next day on CNN – Brad had never cared for the Japanese newscasts.
The job had gone off without a hitch, and two bodies were left behind. Schuldig had gone out to entertain himself while Brad took the time to contemplate what all his recent visions had meant. He sipped his scotch and gazed out over the bright Tokyo night on his knees with a mouthful of Yohji. He trailed his hand up Yohji's thighs as Yohji's fingers combed through his hair.
"The always-put-together, impeccable Brad Crawford, and I get to see him mused and on his knees." Yohji's leer took on a darker tone and Brad pulled back, shoving Yohji away from him with a hand on his stomach. He stood up, straightening the clothes he hadn't bothered to take off, refastening buttons and zipping up his slacks, his face blank, feeling sick inside. Was this all it was, then? His eyes slid away from Yohji's shocked face as he finished with his shirt buttons. Yohji's hands were suddenly on his chest and he raised his hands to shove Yohji away from him, unamused, angry and strangely hurt.
"Brad, babe, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. You know I wouldn't mean it like that." Yohji's hands fluttered over his shoulders, needing to touch, but afraid of how it would be taken. "I was just commenting on how no one ever sees you less than impeccable, and I get to see you with your hair messed up, without your glasses and with your tie hanging off of you and your shirt undone. I get to see you relaxed. And I like it, that you'll let your defenses down around me."
Yohji's hands cupped his jaw as he maintained his silence, examining why he felt hurt. He'd had worse things said to him over the years, and nothing anyone had said had made a dent in his armor, but Yohji made an innocent comment and it tore him open? "What's wrong, babe? Talk to me."
"I don't know." Brad said into his glass of scotch, surprised to find himself in his kitchen and not with Yohji. I don't know what is wrong with me. I don't understand all of this. He drowned the rest of the scotch and called it an early night, disconcerted and confused and hoping for another vision.
He was starting to think about Yohji all of the time now: the way his skin glowed in candlelight, his hair when wet, the way he trailed his fingers along the rim of his glass, how he felt, how he looked, how he got under Brad's skin without ever trying. He took walks, sometimes, that led him past the shop that was Yohji's cover – a quaint idea that a cover job was necessary – just so he could get a glimpse. He watched from the coffee shop across the street as Yohji smoked in the alley, as Yohji napped on the register, as Siberian stuffed a hose down Yohji's white shirt and soaked him.
That night, Brad did not have a vision, just a dream of Yohji's shirt plastered to him, showing his skin and brown nipples, a small bubble of white where air was trapped over his navel. Yohji smiled, holding out his arms, welcoming Brad into his embrace, laughing when Brad sucked on that bubble of white. Their hands wandered as they laughed, rolling around, Yohji pulling off his shirt and wringing it out over Brad's head, a splash of lukewarm water sliding down his face, dripping from his hair. Yohji laughed, threaded his hands into Brad's hair, pressing him down with a messy kiss, and Brad let him, laughing lightly, hands caging Yohji's hips.
He woke up hard, but it wasn't an urgent arousal, not like the several times he'd been woken up by visions of Yohji. So instead of heading into the shower, Brad went downstairs to the kitchen. Schuldig was there, sitting on the counter chugging a glass of water. Brad ignored Schuldig's raised eyebrow, merely pouring himself a glass of water and leaning against the sink.
Schuldig eyed him up and down and Brad regretted not getting dressed. "Well, well. It seems someone is in need." Schuldig's words stumbled into each other as Schuldig slid off the counter, setting his empty glass aside and slinking up to drape himself over Brad's side, hand sliding across Brad's hip. "All you had to do was ask." The words were hot in his ear.
And wrong. Brad shoved Schuldig away from him hard enough that Schuldig stumbled back into the counter, wincing. Coldly: "I do not want you."
Schuldig sneered, a cover for the rejection, for Schuldig never took rejection well, and to top it off, Schuldig was drunk, his words slurring. "What do you want? Do you even know?"
Brad pushed up his glasses. "I know what I want." Yohji, Brad realized with a shock, even though it had become quite obvious. He hadn't wanted to see, hadn't wanted to realize. He didn't want that kind of upheaval in his world. But it was there, a fact that he couldn't avoid. He wanted Yohji, and it was more than sex that he wanted him for. He backed away from Schuldig, before turning to stride out of the kitchen, seeking to collect himself alone.
There was a fleeting kiss on his hip, a feathery brush of air along his thigh. The rustle of cloth had him shifting further into awareness, warmth settling between his legs. He shifted at a light touch on the inside of his thigh, bringing his leg up, feeling his skin slide against someone else's. Warm breath disturbed the hair around his cock causing a morning erection to twitch into life. A thumb pressed into the crease between torso and leg, warmth radiating into his awakening erection. A flat tongue licked up his length, his hips bucking as his awareness came more into focus.
He moaned lowly, "Yohji." Shifted as Yohji took him into his mouth, suckling and massaging with his tongue and fuck he ought to wake up like this every day. He slid fingers into Yohji's hair, eyes blinking open only to close again as Yohji wound his tongue around his cock. Yohji slid a hand under his ass, encouraging the small movement Brad's hips made until Brad was thrusting in and out of Yohji's mouth. He realized that he was being gentle with Yohji, careful not to thrust too hard or too deep, careful not to yank on his hair and he blinked his eyes open to see the light turn green.
He nudged the car forward, pulling over at the first available parking space and cupping his urgency. He wrapped both hands around the steering wheel, gritted his teeth and waited, willing his erection away. He wasn't going to jack off in his car like some schoolboy that he had never been. It might be helpful, as he was getting ready to see Yohji, ambushing him in the bar he was holed up in for the night. He just wanted to talk, however. He couldn't get to the point his visions were showing him until he made contact with Yohji beyond the field of crime, and now that he knew what he wanted, he didn't want to waste any time starting down the path his visions were leading him.
In the end, his urgency went away and he climbed out of his car and strode into the bar, all confidence and power as always. People's heads turned except for the one he wanted, and he mused about how typical that felt, like the watched pot that refused to boil. He slid onto a bar stool next to Yohji's bowed head and ordered a whiskey. Yohji's head came up, glanced at him blearily, and started to bow again before Yohji bolted to his feet, eyes wide.
"S-S-Sch-Crawford!" Yohji gaped. Brad merely pointed at Yohji's glass and ordered a second one for Yohji.
He raised an eyebrow. "Going to sit down and enjoy your drink, or make a scene for no reason?"
After a moment, in which the bar tender set down Yohji's refilled drink, Yohji finally slid stiffly onto his stool. He cleared his throat, fingers curling around his drink. "You just surprised me, is all." Yohji took a long drink. "Why are you here?"
"I wanted to have a drink or two away from my associates." It was a convenient enough excuse. And it sent Yohji's head nodding in agreement.
Yohji lifted his glass. "Here. Here." Brad tipped the rim of his glass against Yohji's, giving a small smile. It was obvious that Yohji was drunk, and while it stung a bit that Yohji was only being friendly because of the liquor, it was still a pleasant evening. He decided that he was definitely going to seek Yohji out more often.
After last call, which Brad passed up in favor of watching Yohji sprawl against the bar, it was obvious that Yohji was too drunk to drive. "I'm getting you a cab," Brad insisted, trying to hold up a limp Yohji.
Yohji sprawled against Brad's side, breathing beer-fouled breath against Brad's jaw. "I can drive."
"You can barely walk, much less drive." The cab pulled up in front of Brad and Brad maneuvered to open the back door without dumping Yohji on his ass. He managed to get a protesting Yohji inside, legs and arms nestled safely in the cab.
Yohji looked up at him with big eyes. "Why're you being so nice?"
Brad pulled a strand of hair out of the corner of Yohji's mouth and tucked it behind Yohji's ear. "No reason not to be." He turned to give the cabbie directions, straightened and shut the door, stepping away and watching the cab drive off. His body still tingled from Yohji's warmth pressed against him. And he supposed that made up for the softness he had shown. He frowned, still unsettled by the whole thing, turned and walked back to his car. Settling in, he buckled up and turned the car on when Yohji's hands covered his eyes and his sultry voice sounded in his ear.
"Surprise." Yohji pressed a kiss to his jaw. "Happy birthday." Yohji's hands slipped from his eyes as he came around Brad and slid into his lap, wrists hooking over his shoulders.
Brad frowned, "It's not my birthday."
Yohji gave a lopsided smile. "I figured, but I didn't know, and you haven't said. So I picked a day. It was easy, because I found this thing that was perfect for you." Yohji reached to the side and pulled a box into their laps. "Go on. Open it."
He traced the lines on the wrapping paper slowly before neatly unwinding the paper, much to Yohji's chagrin, and slid the box open. A long cream scarf was nestled in the box – soft, so very soft, Brad realized when he picked it up – and Yohji smiled tenderly as he fingered the cloth with Brad.
"I like scarves on men and this one I thought suited you. And since I gave it to you, I thought that you might think of it as having a little piece of me wrapped around you whenever you wear it." Yohji took the scarf out of his hands and draped it over his head, pulling it taut against his neck.
"It is perfect." He draped a section of the scarf around Yohji's neck and tugged Yohji to him. Yohji came easily, a light smile on his lips, parting them for Brad and dragging his fingers up into Brad's hair from the nape of his neck. Brad slid his hand down Yohji's back, feeling the scarf against his jaw and pulled out of his parking space, merging into traffic. Brad drove home feeling alone.
For the next four days, Brad delved into work like nothing else existed for him. The fifth day, Brad assigned a bloody and violent job for Schwarz and showed no mercy to his target. His visions were blissfully silent for the next few weeks as he slowly came to terms with Yohji's tenderness. Brad found himself, on more than one occasion, at a display counter in the department stores, full of scarves, looking for one similar. He had tried one on before realizing that it didn't feel like Yohji was wrapped around him, because it wasn't the one Yohji had given him. That incident sent Brad into another flurry of overwork and another job. This time, it was solo, just a quick information extraction.
The jump drive was tucked safely away in his jacket as he strode out of the office and backtracked his way through the upper reaches of security into the lower, less secure floors where he could move more freely. He stopped, stiff, stepping into the shadows as the sounds of a scuffle reached his ears. Moving slowly, drifting from shadow to shadow, Brad drew his gun and kept his senses open. He peered around the corner at the end of the hallway and saw a group of guards converging on Balinese. A sharp crunch and Yohji tugged his wire free from a broken neck as the corpse dropped to the floor. He turned to the next threat, but Brad could see everything, and fired at a guard advancing on Yohji with a nightstick. The guard dropped with a choked yelp, dying before he hit the ground, and Brad strode out from around the corner, gun held steady, as everyone glanced his way.
He could see the wary surprise in Yohji's eyes behind the sunglasses that were in danger of falling off Yohji's nose. He could tell that Yohji wasn't sure if Brad was friend or foe, but that didn't matter. His actions would become apparent soon enough. Yohji recovered before the guards did, pulled another one into death and disarming a third. Brad had no hesitation and simply picked off another two guards.
Brad's vision flared, and he turned to fire into the opening elevator doors before the reinforcements could get a look at what they were facing. The three went down, crumpled into a heap. His gun had clicked empty, and he let the empty cartridge slide out to the ground, shoving a new one in. He turned back in time to see Yohji go down, a guard following him down with a sharp swing of his nightstick. Brad bared his teeth, firing at the guard, putting two slugs into him before they hit the floor, Yohji's head smacking sharply against the floor. Brad stalked over to them, kicking the guard off of Yohji and shooting him between the eyes. He holstered his gun after a quick glance, cataloguing everything, and crouched down at Yohji's side, sliding a hand onto Yohji's jaw.
There was blood, but that was fixable. It was what he couldn't see, he reminded himself grimly; that was more threatening. Yohji was out, unconscious, but not seeming to have any difficulty breathing. Thick red streaks were already spreading out over Yohji's temple from his hairline, the making of a fantastic bruise that he already knew Yohji would be whining about for weeks to come.
Yohji gave a soft moan, his hand coming up to press against his temple. Brad caught at it, not letting Yohji disturb the injury. He leaned over, speaking softly. "Yohji? Look at me Yohji." Yohji's eyes fluttered and he blinked them open to peer blurrily at Brad.
"Wha?" Yohji moved to sit up, Brad sliding a hand behind his back to help him up when Yohji groaned, sagging against Brad. "Ugh."
He slipped his arms under Yohji's body, carefully picking him up and settling him in his arms, before standing and stepping over the fallen guards and toward the exit, ignoring the elevator doors, mindlessly attempting to close on an arm, bouncing back open when they encountered resistance. Yohji's breath was cold against his neck, but his fingers gripped Brad's lapel over his collarbone.
"Hold on. You'll be fine." Brad murmured softly as he shouldered his way out of the building and toward his car. It wasn't difficult to get Yohji settled in the front seat of his car. Yohji was aware enough to be helpfully limp, not hindering in his lethargy. Brad crouched down to buckle Yohji in, sliding a hand onto Yohji's jaw, turning his face so Brad could peer into his eyes. Brad frowned at the way Yohji winced, at how dilated his pupils were. He lightly caressed Yohji's cheekbone as Yohji's eyes blinked heavily at him.
"Hang in there, Yohji." Yohji's nose scrunched up as Brad stood and Brad heard a mumbled "Ka-fod?" before he shut the door.
Yohji slept soundly before him. Patched and cleaned up, resting for another twenty minutes until Brad needed to wake him up to make sure Yohji's condition wasn't worsening. A mild concussion and some heavy bruising and light abrasions, easy enough for Brad to handle on his own. He sat with his elbows on his knees and his chin on his fists watching Yohji sleep.
He thought back through the last few months of visions and realizations, revisiting a vision here, a desire there until it was time to wake Yohji up. Waking Yohji was easy, as it should be, and tension that Brad hadn't been aware of was shed from him as he smiled at Yohji's grogginess. Yohji lifted a hand toward his temple. Brad caught it and lowered it back to Yohji's lap, stroking Yohji's wrist with his thumb.
"It's all right. You're fine." He spoke with Yohji, asking him questions, forcing him to talk until he was sure that his condition was not worsening. "Go ahead," Brad murmured, "go back to sleep." Yohji's eyes drooped one last time and he sighed, slipping back into sleep without protesting. It was then that he began to ache, the muscles in his arms and legs feeling heavy. Adrenaline, Brad was surprised to realize. He sank into the chair, getting comfortable for the long night ahead of him and marveled at the idea that he would get an adrenaline rush at Yohji being injured. Not the idea, the fact.
He reached out, resting his hand lightly on Yohji's shin. Yohji was so warm and solid and real. Real in a way his visions couldn't be yet. This really was Yohji, not some future version of him. He slid his hand up Yohji's leg, shifting forward to be able to reach. He hadn't taken the time to admire Yohji earlier when he had been patching him up, so he took the time now, noticing the differences between the Yohji in front of him and the Yohji in his visions.
It would be a while, then, he realized, but it also wouldn't be a long time. While there were differences, they were subtle; nothing drastic and nothing that quite reminded him of age. The Yohji in his future didn't really look any older than the Yohji slumbering in front of him. And it was this that had Brad settling on the edge of the bed, leaning over Yohji, hand sliding up his side. He pressed his lips to Yohji's temple – the one not colorful with a vivid bruise – and wanted more. His body sang in its proximity to Yohji and he wanted to settle beside Yohji and hold him.
He sat back, brushing Yohji's bangs from his face before moving back to his chair. He slid his fingers over his lips and watched and worried.
Brad woke with a start, opening his eyes to find Yohji watching him warily from the bed. Brad rubbed his eyes and pushed himself out of the slump he had ended up in on the chair. He swung his feet around, setting them on the floor and scratched at his bare shoulder with a yawn.
"How are you feeling?" Brad asked, raking his fingers back through his hair and resettling his glasses. Yohji's mouth was tight and his glaze flicked up to meet Brad's.
"Fine." He said cautiously. "A small headache." Yohji's fingers plucked at the hem of the sheet.
Brad nodded, sliding over to sit on the edge of the bed to peer more closely at Yohji. "It's to be expected. You took a hard hit to the head." He placed his hand on Yohji's cheek to better see the bruise that had darkened considerably. "You are doing much better. You do not need observation anymore; you can heal on your own." Yohji's hand closed around his wrist.
"Why are you doing this?" Yohji's mouth was pulled down in a deep frown and Brad let him take control of his hand, leaving his wrist in Yohji's grasp.
"Why wouldn't I?"
Yohji gave a soft snort. "You've never really appeared to be good Samaritans, if you catch my drift, and we aren't on the same side."
The corner of Brad's mouth twitched in amusement. "Who says there are sides? Call it professional courtesy if it makes you feel better."
Yohji's eyebrow twitched, rising slightly before Yohji pressed a palm to his forehead, frowning with pain. Brad could see the tension at the corners of Yohji's eyes. "I would've never thought I'd see the day I received courtesy from a member of Schwarz." Yohji said testily.
Brad leaned over to reach for the bottle of pain relievers that were on the bedside table. "You should take some now." He held them out for Yohji to take; Yohji eyed them suspiciously. "I have accomplished my goals, something I had been working on achieving for over ten years. When you are trying to break free from something, after that long, no matter who you are, you do not care about who or what you use in order to attain your freedom."
Yohji watched Brad openly for a long moment before slowly reaching to take the bottle from Brad's fingers. "Freedom, huh?" Brad inclined his head in agreement, for that's what his bid for power had been about, freedom for himself and his team. Yohji frowned, opening the bottle and shaking four out. "Doesn't make what you did right."
"I do not care about right or wrong. But I acknowledge your viewpoint."
Yohji glanced up at him, swallowing the pills. "Then why bother helping me? Why bother with this?" Yohji gestured at the hotel room.
Brad raised an eyebrow. "Why not?" Brad stood, reaching for his discarded shirt, shrugging it over his shoulders. He sighed, starting on the buttons. "You are not my pawn, so I no longer have an ulterior motive for helping you beyond my desire to do so." Yohji was silent, slowly turning the bottle of pills in his hands. Brad handed him some cash, neatly folded. "For a cab. There should be plenty to get you home from here. The room is taken care of, just turn in the key when you leave. Take your time, there is no rush." Brad grabbed his jacket and gun holster, folding the weapon neatly in his jacket before draping it casually over his arm.
Yohji gazed up at him, watching him raptly as Brad got dressed. "But why? It doesn't make sense. Why me? Why now?"
Brad paused on his way to the door. "Because I wanted to. Because I did not want to see you hurt. Of course it makes sense. Why else would anyone want to help anyone else? You will be fine, you are strong." Brad turned, leaving Yohji staring after him, and left, closing the door gently behind him.
Brad stood in middle of his bedroom, slowly looking around, and feeling like there was something missing. Everything was there and in its place, however. He touched his fingers to the top of his dresser, slid them over its polished surface, and glanced around the room again, frowning. It wasn't right, there was something wrong, something not right, but Brad couldn't put his finger on what it was.
The feeling worsened as he slowly readied for bed, sliding into bed, folding his glasses and setting them on his bedside table. He stretched out on his back, pulling the covers up after turning off the lamp. He lay there for a while trying to pin point what was wrong. Even as his body relaxed, his mind did not, but it had been a stressful day and he hadn't gotten much sleep the previous night. He rolled onto his side, half asleep, and reached for something that was not there.
He could taste the whiskey on Yohji's lips, chased the taste with his tongue and swallowed Yohji's moan. Yohji's fingers dug into his shoulders as he ground against Brad. Brad's breath hitched and he yanked Yohji's hips closer, plastering Yohji against him, pressing Yohji back into the glass wall. He devoured Yohji's mouth, spread his hands over Yohji's hip and lower back, wanting to slide his hand inside Yohji's pants, but finding them too tight. Yohji chuckled and pulled Brad's shirt out of his slacks, sliding his hands slowly up Brad's stomach.
Brad sucked in a deep breath as Yohji's fingers reached his pectorals. "Your pants are too tight." Brad cupped Yohji's ass, feeling and stroking though the tight material.
"Mmm…" Yohji murmured against Brad's neck. "And you're too built. I'm close to ripping your shirt off."
Brad grasped Yohji's wrist as Yohji's fingers caught at his nipple and traced two fingers up the seam of Yohji's pants. He rolled his hips, rubbing himself against the blade of Yohji's hip and flexing the thigh that Yohji was riding. Yohji's head fell back against the glass with a thunk and a loud moan.
He could see the city stretched out behind Yohji. The brilliant lights of Bangkok spreading outward like a puddle, seeking to find no boundary in the darkness beyond. If Brad concentrated, really searching the night cityscape, he could see the narrow dark slash of the river in the distance, but frankly, Yohji was much more interesting than a muddy old river, and Brad didn't spare it more attention than he needed to turn Yohji around.
The observation deck was empty save for the two of them, and Brad meant to put it to good use as he peeled Yohji's pants down just enough to reach what he wanted. He cupped Yohji, sliding his other hand down his flank, nuzzling his nose into Yohji's hair, seeking out his neck.
"Beautiful view." Brad breathed into Yohji's hair, pressing two fingers against Yohji, teasing him.
Yohji gasped, throwing his head back, hands pressed against the glass. "Don't care about some stinking city. Oh yes, oh don't stop."
Brad smiled, slowly stroking Yohji from the inside and the outside. "Who said I was talking about the city?" Yohji shuddered in his hands, moaning softly, clamping a hand on Brad's forearm, stroking Brad's skin with his thumb.
The lube was thick and slick on his fingers and it squelched softly when Brad shifted his fingers in Yohji, rubbing, stretching and relaxing. Brad breathed shakily against Yohji's neck, sliding his hand from Yohji's cock to Yohji's hip where the waist of his pants cut a harsh line across his thigh. Brad worked on shoving Yohji's pants down further while working in a third finger, Yohji helped, having to keep one hand on the glass to brace himself.
Yohji turned around with a smile, toeing off his shoes. He leaned forward into Brad to suck at his neck. Brad closed his eyes, fingers finding their way into Yohji again.
"I want your shirt off." Yohji breathed into Brad's neck, hands squeezing Brad's sides before dropping to his own hips. "I want to see you again." Yohji peered up at him. "You left quite the impression."
Yohji wriggled against him as he worked his tight pants the rest of the way off, stepping out of them, all while pressed as close to Brad as possible. Brad worked on the buttons of his shirt, shrugging his shirt off of his shoulders and dropping his hands to his slacks, leaving his shirt hanging off of his forearms. He yanked his belt open as Yohji slid his hands up his chest, and tore into his pants.
Yohji grinned. "And that is the reason for too tight pants." Brad opened his mouth to praise the benefits when Yohji licked his nipple and a moan came out instead. His slacks slid down to around his ankles, his underwear caught around his thighs. He slid his dry hand into Yohji's hair as Yohji's hand slid down his stomach. Brad's hand slapped against the window, leaving a slight trail of lube on the glass when Yohji's fingers wrapped around him, gently exploring him. He gave a loud moan as Yohji traced the flare of his head. It felt even better than it had in any of his vision, as this was happening now.
"You feel different." Yohji marveled, his fingers sliding down the underside of him in emphasis. Brad thrust forward into the cage of Yohji's fingers, nudging against Yohji's palm and sliding against his wrist. He realized that Yohji was referring to his circumcision, and that he didn't have the shock of holding an uncircumcised cock because he'd become used to the difference throughout the course of his visions. Yohji didn't have that opportunity. "Wow. Very different." Yohji licked his lips as Brad shuddered in his hand, letting his head fall back as he sucked in a breath. Yohji closed his fingers around him and stroked. "But good, very good.
"Where's the lube?" Yohji asked, nibbling on Brad's jaw.
Brad slid his hand down Yohji's back, still braced against the glass. "It's in my pant pocket." Yohji pressed a grin behind his ear before sinking to his knees. Brad could feel Yohji rummaging in his slacks when they were pulled tight against his ankle, but at the forefront of his attention was Yohji's mouth as it wrapped around him, hot and wet, catching just the head of him, tongue sliding around him, exploring. Yohji's hand slid over his ass and squeezed the top of the back of his thigh; his other hand sliding up his other leg and Brad could feel the tube of lubricant pressing into his skin. Yohji pulled back, letting Brad fall out of his mouth and grinned up at him.
"You feel very good, indeed." Yohji stood while Brad made a noise of agreement, squeezing some lube on his fingers and wrapping them around Brad as Brad leaned in to nibble on Yohji's bottom lip, his jaw and his collar bone. He slid his hand down Yohji's flank, dragging his leg up to rest over his hip. Yohji twisted his hand over Brad, spreading the lube, before smirking and wiping his hand off on the bunched up material of Brad's underwear where it still ringed his thighs.
Brad wrinkled his nose, taking his hand off of the glass and wiping it on his underwear as well. "Thank you." He drawled drolly as he slid his hand onto Yohji's thigh, preparing to hoist him up. "Up."
Yohji bounced up, hanging onto Brad and wrapping his legs around Brad's waist. "Anytime, babe." Yohji threaded his arms around Brad's neck as Brad slid his hands up Yohji's thighs to cup his ass to support his weight. He shuffled into Yohji, stepping into alignment with Yohji, pressing Yohji into the glass wall overlooking Bangkok. Yohji's breath caught as Brad's erection settled against him and Brad pressed forward and in, giving Yohji no chance to recover so he could watch Yohji's eyes flutter as he sank inside.
It wasn't smooth; it wasn't perfect; it wasn't some glorious first time. What it was was good and fulfilling. It was fun as they laughed when Yohji hit his head on the glass, or when an air bubble was trapped between Yohji's back and the glass and made the most flatulent sound. Yohji had one hand pressed over his mouth and one hand curled in the short hair at the nape of Brad's neck as he laughed. Brad had pressed his face into Yohji's neck, pausing in his thrusts as he joined Yohji in his laughter.
Yohji's hand cupped his face and Brad moved within him again, strokes long and steady. Brad freed a hand to touch Yohji's neck, gaze focused on the skin under his fingertips. Yohji's fingers clenched on the back of his neck, sucking in a gasp of air as Brad shifted his angle, sliding his hand further under Yohji to support him while he explored Yohji's neck and jaw with his other hand. Yohji's ankles crossed behind his back and Yohji passed his thumb over Brad's open mouth before digging his fingers into Brad's hair.
The glass was fogged up around them, clearly showing Brad's smeared handprint from before, small clear streaks from Yohji's hair; the city was a warm diffused glow through the condensation. The small sounds Yohji made and Brad's harsh pants were loud in his ears, filling up the air around them. Sweat rolled down his temple as Yohji stretched in his arms, head falling back, eyes closed, groaning as he spasmed in Brad's arms, jerking as he came. Brad gritted his teeth, watching, absorbing Yohji's orgasm.
"I'll see this again." He promised gutturally as he closed his eyes and came deep inside Yohji, head falling to rest on Yohji's heaving shoulder. Yohji's fingers combed through his hair and they regained their breath, Brad's thumbs lightly caressing the flesh of Yohji's hips. He wasn't ready to let Yohji down, to let Yohji go, but he let Yohji's legs slide over his hips anyway. There would be more time. His visions assured it. As did the way Yohji's arms still held him.
part ii
Author/Artist: D aka
wk_recomendRating: NC-17
Warnings: SEX!! WOO!!
Word count: 12,100
Summary: Brad might have an advantage with his precognition, but that doesn't mean he's quick on the uptake.
A/N: Um…heh. This one sort of took off and I just had to hold on. ^_^
Prompt: Weiss Kreuz, Crawford/Any: up against a wall - one night in Bangkok.
part ii
He could taste the whiskey on Yohji's lips, chased the taste with his tongue and swallowed Yohji's moan. Yohji's fingers dug into his shoulders as he ground against Brad. Brad's breath hitched and he yanked Yohji's hips closer, plastering Yohji against him, pressing Yohji back into the glass wall. He devoured Yohji's mouth, spread his hands over Yohji's hip and lower back, wanting to slide his hand inside Yohji's pants, but finding them too tight. Yohji chuckled and pulled Brad's shirt out of his slacks, sliding his hands slowly up Brad's stomach.
Brad sucked in a deep breath as Yohji's fingers reached his pectorals. "Your pants are too tight." Brad cupped Yohji's ass, feeling and stroking though the tight material.
"Mmm…" Yohji murmured against Brad's neck. "And you're too built. I'm close to ripping your shirt off."
Brad grasped Yohji's wrist as Yohji's fingers caught at his nipple and traced two fingers up the seam of Yohji's pants. He rolled his hips, rubbing himself against the blade of Yohji's hip and flexing the thigh that Yohji was riding. Yohji's head fell back against the glass with a thunk and a loud moan.
Brad rolled onto his back and gazed at his ceiling through the darkness. His body was taught, the tension of intense arousal surging though him. His breath was uneven as he turned his head to look at his clock. 5:14. Too early for him to be awake, but not by much. It wasn't like he was going to be able to sleep after this.
He rolled out of bed, limped into his bathroom, unsuccessfully ignoring the burning ache between his legs. He didn't bother with the lights – there were plenty remembered when he closed his eyes – just turned on the shower and felt his way under the spray.
One hand bracing himself on the wall, he wrapped his other hand around himself, closed his eyes and remembered how Yohji felt against him, trapped between Brad and the wall. He took it from there, imagining that it was Yohji stroking his cock, that it was Yohji's cock he was tugging on.
He bent his head under the shower spray as Yohji's fingers explored his balls. There was cold metal under his naked ass and he was thankful he had the foresight to wash his car earlier. Yohji's panting breaths were moist and hot against his neck as Yohji slid back onto Brad's fingers. Yohji's fingers massaged his balls; slid back to rub behind them, twisted up his cock to circle the head, spread the liquid that had accumulated there.
Yohji licked his lips, tongue flicking against the tendon in Brad's neck. "You're leaking."
Brad gave a breathless laugh as Yohji's fingers slid back down his cock. "So are you." He had three fingers inside Yohji now and was slowly rolling Yohji's balls in his other hand. With each breath or jerk of his hips, Yohji's cock bounced against Brad's forearm, blotting moisture on his skin. The skin was tight where Yohji had left a drying trail while squirming when Brad had slid three fingers inside him.
"I'm going to bend you over my car and fuck you hard." Brad announced; gasping as Yohji slid his thumb up the vein under his cock. He twisted his fingers in Yohji to get in deep.
"You just washed your car, though." Yohji didn't sound as though he was protesting until Brad pulled his fingers free.
Brad pressed Yohji over the hood. "And now I'm going to drive around town with your semen drying on my car." Brad rubbed himself in the crevice of Yohji's ass and came, his guttural moan loud against the tiles of the shower, the spray beating hard on his neck, hot water sluicing down his back, winding down his thighs.
He unwound his fingers from around his softening penis, held his hand in the spray to rinse his fingers clean. His legs tingled, one knee wobbling slightly, and his head felt as though it were floating. Two visions essentially back to back, and his energy was shot. He slapped at the faucet, turning the water off and climbed carefully out of the shower. He kept one hand on the wall as he made his way back to bed. The languidness of sated desire loosened his limbs, unwinding his muscles one by one until he fell into bed, still wet from his shower and rolled into the blankets, unwilling to let his mind think about anything until he had gotten some sleep.
Brad's visions were peculiar from the other few precognitives in how vivid they were. Sometimes, when trapped in a vision, he had difficulty in differentiating between a vision and the present reality. There were always ways to tell, but it was usually once the vision had let him go, not during. While he couldn't understand how it was he had come to be fucking Yohji Kudo, it had been utterly real in those visions. And, of course, since almost all of Brad's visions came to pass, unless he worked specifically to avert the outcome – the vision still came to pass, it merely had a different outcome – this meant that at some point in the future, Brad really would be fucking Yohji Kudo.
While it was difficult, Brad certainly was capable of being surprised. And this was certainly a surprise. Especially the next vision that came on the heels of a particularly trying week riddled with jobs, research, evaluations, cleaning up the remains of two Catholic missionaries and little to no sleep.
His eyes were closed and he was relaxed, spread out on a comfortable bed, a feather pillow cushioning his temple and cheek. Strong fingers were pressing into the muscles of his back, releasing the tension and stress. He let out a groan as a particularly large knot was slowly loosened and received a breathy chuckle for it.
"When I first saw you tonight, I thought that you'd be too tense to be able to get undressed and lay down. And here you are, naked and relaxed, spread out on my bed like a treat." Yohji's voice was light and low, a sensual purr that alternatively lit Brad's nerves on fire and relaxed him further.
Brad smiled, feeling no pressing need to open his eyes. "It is a testament to the talent of your fingers, then."
A light kiss was pressed to the back of his neck. "Aw…not of any other talent I have?"
"You said not tonight, though I'd not be adverse."
Another kiss was dropped on his shoulder and Brad felt warm and safe, it was comforting and he never wanted it to end. "No. Tonight is about relaxing you. You work too damned hard, Brad. Let me take care of you." A warm hand slid down his flank, back up over his ass and dug into the flesh in the small of his back. He groaned, sinking further into the embrace of Yohji's bed. Fingers dug in on either side of his spine and Yohji's warm voice soothed him. "Just sleep, Brad. You need it."
The door to Brad's office opened, as did Brad's eyes. He stared up at the wide grin that Schuldig sent his way as he tried to comprehend this latest vision. He was going to let Yohji call him by his first name? He was shaken; though he was assured he did not show it. Schuldig certainly didn't find anything out of place as he stretched into one of Brad's chairs and put his feet up on Brad's desk. Brad shoved Schuldig's feet off, scowling when Schuldig's heel caught on a folder and sent it fluttering to the floor.
"All right, all right, you don't need to send the look of doom my way, Crawford, shit." Schuldig slid off of the chair to pick up the pages instead of needling Brad for being distraught. Brad was gratified for the verification that he was, indeed, keeping his turmoil locked down.
Schuldig slapped the folder on his desk. "So. You said we have a job tonight." Schuldig's grin showed nothing but teeth. Brad passed Schuldig the pertinent folder and began explaining the important points, all the while unable to get the gentleness and trust that had permeated every layer of that vision out of his mind.
Up until that vision, he had just been thinking that he needed to get laid, that he was desperate for some sort of pleasurable company and that was why his gift was showing him these enticing moments of the future. But this, this was so different, Brad almost couldn't comprehend it. Not until the job he and Schuldig ran that night. Or more precisely, after it.
It was the standard kill off the politician hopeful and his family for outstanding debts to the mafia, of which not all debts were monetary. In this situation, the politician hopeful was in the next prefecture over, some freshly scrubbed face thinking that he could reinvent the future of politics – make them cleaner, more honest. The mafia was, of course, the Yakuza, someone in the Yamaguchi-guchi who had a beef over the utopian fantasy the politician had been reaching for. It was a simple job: in, out and don't look back. Frame the wife for the murder of her husband and watch the media frenzy while sipping cocktails the next day on CNN – Brad had never cared for the Japanese newscasts.
The job had gone off without a hitch, and two bodies were left behind. Schuldig had gone out to entertain himself while Brad took the time to contemplate what all his recent visions had meant. He sipped his scotch and gazed out over the bright Tokyo night on his knees with a mouthful of Yohji. He trailed his hand up Yohji's thighs as Yohji's fingers combed through his hair.
"The always-put-together, impeccable Brad Crawford, and I get to see him mused and on his knees." Yohji's leer took on a darker tone and Brad pulled back, shoving Yohji away from him with a hand on his stomach. He stood up, straightening the clothes he hadn't bothered to take off, refastening buttons and zipping up his slacks, his face blank, feeling sick inside. Was this all it was, then? His eyes slid away from Yohji's shocked face as he finished with his shirt buttons. Yohji's hands were suddenly on his chest and he raised his hands to shove Yohji away from him, unamused, angry and strangely hurt.
"Brad, babe, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. You know I wouldn't mean it like that." Yohji's hands fluttered over his shoulders, needing to touch, but afraid of how it would be taken. "I was just commenting on how no one ever sees you less than impeccable, and I get to see you with your hair messed up, without your glasses and with your tie hanging off of you and your shirt undone. I get to see you relaxed. And I like it, that you'll let your defenses down around me."
Yohji's hands cupped his jaw as he maintained his silence, examining why he felt hurt. He'd had worse things said to him over the years, and nothing anyone had said had made a dent in his armor, but Yohji made an innocent comment and it tore him open? "What's wrong, babe? Talk to me."
"I don't know." Brad said into his glass of scotch, surprised to find himself in his kitchen and not with Yohji. I don't know what is wrong with me. I don't understand all of this. He drowned the rest of the scotch and called it an early night, disconcerted and confused and hoping for another vision.
He was starting to think about Yohji all of the time now: the way his skin glowed in candlelight, his hair when wet, the way he trailed his fingers along the rim of his glass, how he felt, how he looked, how he got under Brad's skin without ever trying. He took walks, sometimes, that led him past the shop that was Yohji's cover – a quaint idea that a cover job was necessary – just so he could get a glimpse. He watched from the coffee shop across the street as Yohji smoked in the alley, as Yohji napped on the register, as Siberian stuffed a hose down Yohji's white shirt and soaked him.
That night, Brad did not have a vision, just a dream of Yohji's shirt plastered to him, showing his skin and brown nipples, a small bubble of white where air was trapped over his navel. Yohji smiled, holding out his arms, welcoming Brad into his embrace, laughing when Brad sucked on that bubble of white. Their hands wandered as they laughed, rolling around, Yohji pulling off his shirt and wringing it out over Brad's head, a splash of lukewarm water sliding down his face, dripping from his hair. Yohji laughed, threaded his hands into Brad's hair, pressing him down with a messy kiss, and Brad let him, laughing lightly, hands caging Yohji's hips.
He woke up hard, but it wasn't an urgent arousal, not like the several times he'd been woken up by visions of Yohji. So instead of heading into the shower, Brad went downstairs to the kitchen. Schuldig was there, sitting on the counter chugging a glass of water. Brad ignored Schuldig's raised eyebrow, merely pouring himself a glass of water and leaning against the sink.
Schuldig eyed him up and down and Brad regretted not getting dressed. "Well, well. It seems someone is in need." Schuldig's words stumbled into each other as Schuldig slid off the counter, setting his empty glass aside and slinking up to drape himself over Brad's side, hand sliding across Brad's hip. "All you had to do was ask." The words were hot in his ear.
And wrong. Brad shoved Schuldig away from him hard enough that Schuldig stumbled back into the counter, wincing. Coldly: "I do not want you."
Schuldig sneered, a cover for the rejection, for Schuldig never took rejection well, and to top it off, Schuldig was drunk, his words slurring. "What do you want? Do you even know?"
Brad pushed up his glasses. "I know what I want." Yohji, Brad realized with a shock, even though it had become quite obvious. He hadn't wanted to see, hadn't wanted to realize. He didn't want that kind of upheaval in his world. But it was there, a fact that he couldn't avoid. He wanted Yohji, and it was more than sex that he wanted him for. He backed away from Schuldig, before turning to stride out of the kitchen, seeking to collect himself alone.
There was a fleeting kiss on his hip, a feathery brush of air along his thigh. The rustle of cloth had him shifting further into awareness, warmth settling between his legs. He shifted at a light touch on the inside of his thigh, bringing his leg up, feeling his skin slide against someone else's. Warm breath disturbed the hair around his cock causing a morning erection to twitch into life. A thumb pressed into the crease between torso and leg, warmth radiating into his awakening erection. A flat tongue licked up his length, his hips bucking as his awareness came more into focus.
He moaned lowly, "Yohji." Shifted as Yohji took him into his mouth, suckling and massaging with his tongue and fuck he ought to wake up like this every day. He slid fingers into Yohji's hair, eyes blinking open only to close again as Yohji wound his tongue around his cock. Yohji slid a hand under his ass, encouraging the small movement Brad's hips made until Brad was thrusting in and out of Yohji's mouth. He realized that he was being gentle with Yohji, careful not to thrust too hard or too deep, careful not to yank on his hair and he blinked his eyes open to see the light turn green.
He nudged the car forward, pulling over at the first available parking space and cupping his urgency. He wrapped both hands around the steering wheel, gritted his teeth and waited, willing his erection away. He wasn't going to jack off in his car like some schoolboy that he had never been. It might be helpful, as he was getting ready to see Yohji, ambushing him in the bar he was holed up in for the night. He just wanted to talk, however. He couldn't get to the point his visions were showing him until he made contact with Yohji beyond the field of crime, and now that he knew what he wanted, he didn't want to waste any time starting down the path his visions were leading him.
In the end, his urgency went away and he climbed out of his car and strode into the bar, all confidence and power as always. People's heads turned except for the one he wanted, and he mused about how typical that felt, like the watched pot that refused to boil. He slid onto a bar stool next to Yohji's bowed head and ordered a whiskey. Yohji's head came up, glanced at him blearily, and started to bow again before Yohji bolted to his feet, eyes wide.
"S-S-Sch-Crawford!" Yohji gaped. Brad merely pointed at Yohji's glass and ordered a second one for Yohji.
He raised an eyebrow. "Going to sit down and enjoy your drink, or make a scene for no reason?"
After a moment, in which the bar tender set down Yohji's refilled drink, Yohji finally slid stiffly onto his stool. He cleared his throat, fingers curling around his drink. "You just surprised me, is all." Yohji took a long drink. "Why are you here?"
"I wanted to have a drink or two away from my associates." It was a convenient enough excuse. And it sent Yohji's head nodding in agreement.
Yohji lifted his glass. "Here. Here." Brad tipped the rim of his glass against Yohji's, giving a small smile. It was obvious that Yohji was drunk, and while it stung a bit that Yohji was only being friendly because of the liquor, it was still a pleasant evening. He decided that he was definitely going to seek Yohji out more often.
After last call, which Brad passed up in favor of watching Yohji sprawl against the bar, it was obvious that Yohji was too drunk to drive. "I'm getting you a cab," Brad insisted, trying to hold up a limp Yohji.
Yohji sprawled against Brad's side, breathing beer-fouled breath against Brad's jaw. "I can drive."
"You can barely walk, much less drive." The cab pulled up in front of Brad and Brad maneuvered to open the back door without dumping Yohji on his ass. He managed to get a protesting Yohji inside, legs and arms nestled safely in the cab.
Yohji looked up at him with big eyes. "Why're you being so nice?"
Brad pulled a strand of hair out of the corner of Yohji's mouth and tucked it behind Yohji's ear. "No reason not to be." He turned to give the cabbie directions, straightened and shut the door, stepping away and watching the cab drive off. His body still tingled from Yohji's warmth pressed against him. And he supposed that made up for the softness he had shown. He frowned, still unsettled by the whole thing, turned and walked back to his car. Settling in, he buckled up and turned the car on when Yohji's hands covered his eyes and his sultry voice sounded in his ear.
"Surprise." Yohji pressed a kiss to his jaw. "Happy birthday." Yohji's hands slipped from his eyes as he came around Brad and slid into his lap, wrists hooking over his shoulders.
Brad frowned, "It's not my birthday."
Yohji gave a lopsided smile. "I figured, but I didn't know, and you haven't said. So I picked a day. It was easy, because I found this thing that was perfect for you." Yohji reached to the side and pulled a box into their laps. "Go on. Open it."
He traced the lines on the wrapping paper slowly before neatly unwinding the paper, much to Yohji's chagrin, and slid the box open. A long cream scarf was nestled in the box – soft, so very soft, Brad realized when he picked it up – and Yohji smiled tenderly as he fingered the cloth with Brad.
"I like scarves on men and this one I thought suited you. And since I gave it to you, I thought that you might think of it as having a little piece of me wrapped around you whenever you wear it." Yohji took the scarf out of his hands and draped it over his head, pulling it taut against his neck.
"It is perfect." He draped a section of the scarf around Yohji's neck and tugged Yohji to him. Yohji came easily, a light smile on his lips, parting them for Brad and dragging his fingers up into Brad's hair from the nape of his neck. Brad slid his hand down Yohji's back, feeling the scarf against his jaw and pulled out of his parking space, merging into traffic. Brad drove home feeling alone.
For the next four days, Brad delved into work like nothing else existed for him. The fifth day, Brad assigned a bloody and violent job for Schwarz and showed no mercy to his target. His visions were blissfully silent for the next few weeks as he slowly came to terms with Yohji's tenderness. Brad found himself, on more than one occasion, at a display counter in the department stores, full of scarves, looking for one similar. He had tried one on before realizing that it didn't feel like Yohji was wrapped around him, because it wasn't the one Yohji had given him. That incident sent Brad into another flurry of overwork and another job. This time, it was solo, just a quick information extraction.
The jump drive was tucked safely away in his jacket as he strode out of the office and backtracked his way through the upper reaches of security into the lower, less secure floors where he could move more freely. He stopped, stiff, stepping into the shadows as the sounds of a scuffle reached his ears. Moving slowly, drifting from shadow to shadow, Brad drew his gun and kept his senses open. He peered around the corner at the end of the hallway and saw a group of guards converging on Balinese. A sharp crunch and Yohji tugged his wire free from a broken neck as the corpse dropped to the floor. He turned to the next threat, but Brad could see everything, and fired at a guard advancing on Yohji with a nightstick. The guard dropped with a choked yelp, dying before he hit the ground, and Brad strode out from around the corner, gun held steady, as everyone glanced his way.
He could see the wary surprise in Yohji's eyes behind the sunglasses that were in danger of falling off Yohji's nose. He could tell that Yohji wasn't sure if Brad was friend or foe, but that didn't matter. His actions would become apparent soon enough. Yohji recovered before the guards did, pulled another one into death and disarming a third. Brad had no hesitation and simply picked off another two guards.
Brad's vision flared, and he turned to fire into the opening elevator doors before the reinforcements could get a look at what they were facing. The three went down, crumpled into a heap. His gun had clicked empty, and he let the empty cartridge slide out to the ground, shoving a new one in. He turned back in time to see Yohji go down, a guard following him down with a sharp swing of his nightstick. Brad bared his teeth, firing at the guard, putting two slugs into him before they hit the floor, Yohji's head smacking sharply against the floor. Brad stalked over to them, kicking the guard off of Yohji and shooting him between the eyes. He holstered his gun after a quick glance, cataloguing everything, and crouched down at Yohji's side, sliding a hand onto Yohji's jaw.
There was blood, but that was fixable. It was what he couldn't see, he reminded himself grimly; that was more threatening. Yohji was out, unconscious, but not seeming to have any difficulty breathing. Thick red streaks were already spreading out over Yohji's temple from his hairline, the making of a fantastic bruise that he already knew Yohji would be whining about for weeks to come.
Yohji gave a soft moan, his hand coming up to press against his temple. Brad caught at it, not letting Yohji disturb the injury. He leaned over, speaking softly. "Yohji? Look at me Yohji." Yohji's eyes fluttered and he blinked them open to peer blurrily at Brad.
"Wha?" Yohji moved to sit up, Brad sliding a hand behind his back to help him up when Yohji groaned, sagging against Brad. "Ugh."
He slipped his arms under Yohji's body, carefully picking him up and settling him in his arms, before standing and stepping over the fallen guards and toward the exit, ignoring the elevator doors, mindlessly attempting to close on an arm, bouncing back open when they encountered resistance. Yohji's breath was cold against his neck, but his fingers gripped Brad's lapel over his collarbone.
"Hold on. You'll be fine." Brad murmured softly as he shouldered his way out of the building and toward his car. It wasn't difficult to get Yohji settled in the front seat of his car. Yohji was aware enough to be helpfully limp, not hindering in his lethargy. Brad crouched down to buckle Yohji in, sliding a hand onto Yohji's jaw, turning his face so Brad could peer into his eyes. Brad frowned at the way Yohji winced, at how dilated his pupils were. He lightly caressed Yohji's cheekbone as Yohji's eyes blinked heavily at him.
"Hang in there, Yohji." Yohji's nose scrunched up as Brad stood and Brad heard a mumbled "Ka-fod?" before he shut the door.
Yohji slept soundly before him. Patched and cleaned up, resting for another twenty minutes until Brad needed to wake him up to make sure Yohji's condition wasn't worsening. A mild concussion and some heavy bruising and light abrasions, easy enough for Brad to handle on his own. He sat with his elbows on his knees and his chin on his fists watching Yohji sleep.
He thought back through the last few months of visions and realizations, revisiting a vision here, a desire there until it was time to wake Yohji up. Waking Yohji was easy, as it should be, and tension that Brad hadn't been aware of was shed from him as he smiled at Yohji's grogginess. Yohji lifted a hand toward his temple. Brad caught it and lowered it back to Yohji's lap, stroking Yohji's wrist with his thumb.
"It's all right. You're fine." He spoke with Yohji, asking him questions, forcing him to talk until he was sure that his condition was not worsening. "Go ahead," Brad murmured, "go back to sleep." Yohji's eyes drooped one last time and he sighed, slipping back into sleep without protesting. It was then that he began to ache, the muscles in his arms and legs feeling heavy. Adrenaline, Brad was surprised to realize. He sank into the chair, getting comfortable for the long night ahead of him and marveled at the idea that he would get an adrenaline rush at Yohji being injured. Not the idea, the fact.
He reached out, resting his hand lightly on Yohji's shin. Yohji was so warm and solid and real. Real in a way his visions couldn't be yet. This really was Yohji, not some future version of him. He slid his hand up Yohji's leg, shifting forward to be able to reach. He hadn't taken the time to admire Yohji earlier when he had been patching him up, so he took the time now, noticing the differences between the Yohji in front of him and the Yohji in his visions.
It would be a while, then, he realized, but it also wouldn't be a long time. While there were differences, they were subtle; nothing drastic and nothing that quite reminded him of age. The Yohji in his future didn't really look any older than the Yohji slumbering in front of him. And it was this that had Brad settling on the edge of the bed, leaning over Yohji, hand sliding up his side. He pressed his lips to Yohji's temple – the one not colorful with a vivid bruise – and wanted more. His body sang in its proximity to Yohji and he wanted to settle beside Yohji and hold him.
He sat back, brushing Yohji's bangs from his face before moving back to his chair. He slid his fingers over his lips and watched and worried.
Brad woke with a start, opening his eyes to find Yohji watching him warily from the bed. Brad rubbed his eyes and pushed himself out of the slump he had ended up in on the chair. He swung his feet around, setting them on the floor and scratched at his bare shoulder with a yawn.
"How are you feeling?" Brad asked, raking his fingers back through his hair and resettling his glasses. Yohji's mouth was tight and his glaze flicked up to meet Brad's.
"Fine." He said cautiously. "A small headache." Yohji's fingers plucked at the hem of the sheet.
Brad nodded, sliding over to sit on the edge of the bed to peer more closely at Yohji. "It's to be expected. You took a hard hit to the head." He placed his hand on Yohji's cheek to better see the bruise that had darkened considerably. "You are doing much better. You do not need observation anymore; you can heal on your own." Yohji's hand closed around his wrist.
"Why are you doing this?" Yohji's mouth was pulled down in a deep frown and Brad let him take control of his hand, leaving his wrist in Yohji's grasp.
"Why wouldn't I?"
Yohji gave a soft snort. "You've never really appeared to be good Samaritans, if you catch my drift, and we aren't on the same side."
The corner of Brad's mouth twitched in amusement. "Who says there are sides? Call it professional courtesy if it makes you feel better."
Yohji's eyebrow twitched, rising slightly before Yohji pressed a palm to his forehead, frowning with pain. Brad could see the tension at the corners of Yohji's eyes. "I would've never thought I'd see the day I received courtesy from a member of Schwarz." Yohji said testily.
Brad leaned over to reach for the bottle of pain relievers that were on the bedside table. "You should take some now." He held them out for Yohji to take; Yohji eyed them suspiciously. "I have accomplished my goals, something I had been working on achieving for over ten years. When you are trying to break free from something, after that long, no matter who you are, you do not care about who or what you use in order to attain your freedom."
Yohji watched Brad openly for a long moment before slowly reaching to take the bottle from Brad's fingers. "Freedom, huh?" Brad inclined his head in agreement, for that's what his bid for power had been about, freedom for himself and his team. Yohji frowned, opening the bottle and shaking four out. "Doesn't make what you did right."
"I do not care about right or wrong. But I acknowledge your viewpoint."
Yohji glanced up at him, swallowing the pills. "Then why bother helping me? Why bother with this?" Yohji gestured at the hotel room.
Brad raised an eyebrow. "Why not?" Brad stood, reaching for his discarded shirt, shrugging it over his shoulders. He sighed, starting on the buttons. "You are not my pawn, so I no longer have an ulterior motive for helping you beyond my desire to do so." Yohji was silent, slowly turning the bottle of pills in his hands. Brad handed him some cash, neatly folded. "For a cab. There should be plenty to get you home from here. The room is taken care of, just turn in the key when you leave. Take your time, there is no rush." Brad grabbed his jacket and gun holster, folding the weapon neatly in his jacket before draping it casually over his arm.
Yohji gazed up at him, watching him raptly as Brad got dressed. "But why? It doesn't make sense. Why me? Why now?"
Brad paused on his way to the door. "Because I wanted to. Because I did not want to see you hurt. Of course it makes sense. Why else would anyone want to help anyone else? You will be fine, you are strong." Brad turned, leaving Yohji staring after him, and left, closing the door gently behind him.
Brad stood in middle of his bedroom, slowly looking around, and feeling like there was something missing. Everything was there and in its place, however. He touched his fingers to the top of his dresser, slid them over its polished surface, and glanced around the room again, frowning. It wasn't right, there was something wrong, something not right, but Brad couldn't put his finger on what it was.
The feeling worsened as he slowly readied for bed, sliding into bed, folding his glasses and setting them on his bedside table. He stretched out on his back, pulling the covers up after turning off the lamp. He lay there for a while trying to pin point what was wrong. Even as his body relaxed, his mind did not, but it had been a stressful day and he hadn't gotten much sleep the previous night. He rolled onto his side, half asleep, and reached for something that was not there.
He could taste the whiskey on Yohji's lips, chased the taste with his tongue and swallowed Yohji's moan. Yohji's fingers dug into his shoulders as he ground against Brad. Brad's breath hitched and he yanked Yohji's hips closer, plastering Yohji against him, pressing Yohji back into the glass wall. He devoured Yohji's mouth, spread his hands over Yohji's hip and lower back, wanting to slide his hand inside Yohji's pants, but finding them too tight. Yohji chuckled and pulled Brad's shirt out of his slacks, sliding his hands slowly up Brad's stomach.
Brad sucked in a deep breath as Yohji's fingers reached his pectorals. "Your pants are too tight." Brad cupped Yohji's ass, feeling and stroking though the tight material.
"Mmm…" Yohji murmured against Brad's neck. "And you're too built. I'm close to ripping your shirt off."
Brad grasped Yohji's wrist as Yohji's fingers caught at his nipple and traced two fingers up the seam of Yohji's pants. He rolled his hips, rubbing himself against the blade of Yohji's hip and flexing the thigh that Yohji was riding. Yohji's head fell back against the glass with a thunk and a loud moan.
He could see the city stretched out behind Yohji. The brilliant lights of Bangkok spreading outward like a puddle, seeking to find no boundary in the darkness beyond. If Brad concentrated, really searching the night cityscape, he could see the narrow dark slash of the river in the distance, but frankly, Yohji was much more interesting than a muddy old river, and Brad didn't spare it more attention than he needed to turn Yohji around.
The observation deck was empty save for the two of them, and Brad meant to put it to good use as he peeled Yohji's pants down just enough to reach what he wanted. He cupped Yohji, sliding his other hand down his flank, nuzzling his nose into Yohji's hair, seeking out his neck.
"Beautiful view." Brad breathed into Yohji's hair, pressing two fingers against Yohji, teasing him.
Yohji gasped, throwing his head back, hands pressed against the glass. "Don't care about some stinking city. Oh yes, oh don't stop."
Brad smiled, slowly stroking Yohji from the inside and the outside. "Who said I was talking about the city?" Yohji shuddered in his hands, moaning softly, clamping a hand on Brad's forearm, stroking Brad's skin with his thumb.
The lube was thick and slick on his fingers and it squelched softly when Brad shifted his fingers in Yohji, rubbing, stretching and relaxing. Brad breathed shakily against Yohji's neck, sliding his hand from Yohji's cock to Yohji's hip where the waist of his pants cut a harsh line across his thigh. Brad worked on shoving Yohji's pants down further while working in a third finger, Yohji helped, having to keep one hand on the glass to brace himself.
Yohji turned around with a smile, toeing off his shoes. He leaned forward into Brad to suck at his neck. Brad closed his eyes, fingers finding their way into Yohji again.
"I want your shirt off." Yohji breathed into Brad's neck, hands squeezing Brad's sides before dropping to his own hips. "I want to see you again." Yohji peered up at him. "You left quite the impression."
Yohji wriggled against him as he worked his tight pants the rest of the way off, stepping out of them, all while pressed as close to Brad as possible. Brad worked on the buttons of his shirt, shrugging his shirt off of his shoulders and dropping his hands to his slacks, leaving his shirt hanging off of his forearms. He yanked his belt open as Yohji slid his hands up his chest, and tore into his pants.
Yohji grinned. "And that is the reason for too tight pants." Brad opened his mouth to praise the benefits when Yohji licked his nipple and a moan came out instead. His slacks slid down to around his ankles, his underwear caught around his thighs. He slid his dry hand into Yohji's hair as Yohji's hand slid down his stomach. Brad's hand slapped against the window, leaving a slight trail of lube on the glass when Yohji's fingers wrapped around him, gently exploring him. He gave a loud moan as Yohji traced the flare of his head. It felt even better than it had in any of his vision, as this was happening now.
"You feel different." Yohji marveled, his fingers sliding down the underside of him in emphasis. Brad thrust forward into the cage of Yohji's fingers, nudging against Yohji's palm and sliding against his wrist. He realized that Yohji was referring to his circumcision, and that he didn't have the shock of holding an uncircumcised cock because he'd become used to the difference throughout the course of his visions. Yohji didn't have that opportunity. "Wow. Very different." Yohji licked his lips as Brad shuddered in his hand, letting his head fall back as he sucked in a breath. Yohji closed his fingers around him and stroked. "But good, very good.
"Where's the lube?" Yohji asked, nibbling on Brad's jaw.
Brad slid his hand down Yohji's back, still braced against the glass. "It's in my pant pocket." Yohji pressed a grin behind his ear before sinking to his knees. Brad could feel Yohji rummaging in his slacks when they were pulled tight against his ankle, but at the forefront of his attention was Yohji's mouth as it wrapped around him, hot and wet, catching just the head of him, tongue sliding around him, exploring. Yohji's hand slid over his ass and squeezed the top of the back of his thigh; his other hand sliding up his other leg and Brad could feel the tube of lubricant pressing into his skin. Yohji pulled back, letting Brad fall out of his mouth and grinned up at him.
"You feel very good, indeed." Yohji stood while Brad made a noise of agreement, squeezing some lube on his fingers and wrapping them around Brad as Brad leaned in to nibble on Yohji's bottom lip, his jaw and his collar bone. He slid his hand down Yohji's flank, dragging his leg up to rest over his hip. Yohji twisted his hand over Brad, spreading the lube, before smirking and wiping his hand off on the bunched up material of Brad's underwear where it still ringed his thighs.
Brad wrinkled his nose, taking his hand off of the glass and wiping it on his underwear as well. "Thank you." He drawled drolly as he slid his hand onto Yohji's thigh, preparing to hoist him up. "Up."
Yohji bounced up, hanging onto Brad and wrapping his legs around Brad's waist. "Anytime, babe." Yohji threaded his arms around Brad's neck as Brad slid his hands up Yohji's thighs to cup his ass to support his weight. He shuffled into Yohji, stepping into alignment with Yohji, pressing Yohji into the glass wall overlooking Bangkok. Yohji's breath caught as Brad's erection settled against him and Brad pressed forward and in, giving Yohji no chance to recover so he could watch Yohji's eyes flutter as he sank inside.
It wasn't smooth; it wasn't perfect; it wasn't some glorious first time. What it was was good and fulfilling. It was fun as they laughed when Yohji hit his head on the glass, or when an air bubble was trapped between Yohji's back and the glass and made the most flatulent sound. Yohji had one hand pressed over his mouth and one hand curled in the short hair at the nape of Brad's neck as he laughed. Brad had pressed his face into Yohji's neck, pausing in his thrusts as he joined Yohji in his laughter.
Yohji's hand cupped his face and Brad moved within him again, strokes long and steady. Brad freed a hand to touch Yohji's neck, gaze focused on the skin under his fingertips. Yohji's fingers clenched on the back of his neck, sucking in a gasp of air as Brad shifted his angle, sliding his hand further under Yohji to support him while he explored Yohji's neck and jaw with his other hand. Yohji's ankles crossed behind his back and Yohji passed his thumb over Brad's open mouth before digging his fingers into Brad's hair.
The glass was fogged up around them, clearly showing Brad's smeared handprint from before, small clear streaks from Yohji's hair; the city was a warm diffused glow through the condensation. The small sounds Yohji made and Brad's harsh pants were loud in his ears, filling up the air around them. Sweat rolled down his temple as Yohji stretched in his arms, head falling back, eyes closed, groaning as he spasmed in Brad's arms, jerking as he came. Brad gritted his teeth, watching, absorbing Yohji's orgasm.
"I'll see this again." He promised gutturally as he closed his eyes and came deep inside Yohji, head falling to rest on Yohji's heaving shoulder. Yohji's fingers combed through his hair and they regained their breath, Brad's thumbs lightly caressing the flesh of Yohji's hips. He wasn't ready to let Yohji down, to let Yohji go, but he let Yohji's legs slide over his hips anyway. There would be more time. His visions assured it. As did the way Yohji's arms still held him.
part ii
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Date: 2007-08-01 11:11 am (UTC)Guh.
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Date: 2007-08-01 01:02 pm (UTC)I have to admit that I really enjoyed writing the time displacement. *huggles Crawford's precognition*
D