Dragon Cycle

Dragon Cycle – Pt 16 – Highs and Lows

Disclaimer: I still don’t own Weiß Kreuz or any of the characters from the series. I write this for fun and in the hopes that some people will like it. I make no money from writing these fics.

Author’s Notes: Chapter titles are the bane of my life! I think that next time I write a multi-chaptered story, I'll just call the chapters One, Two, etc.

Thanks, as always, go to Iron Dog and her ultra-mad beta skillz!

• • • • • • • • • • • • •

Brad Crawford woke up and was immediately aware of the events of last night, of the arm hugging his waist and of the warmth of Schuldig’s body pressed close against his back. He closed his eyes for a moment of contentment before the needs of his body shifted from relaxation to arousal and his hand drifted to take himself in a firm grip. He was hard and aching and it was completely Schuldig’s fault. Even asleep, the telepath radiated lazy sensuality that stirred Crawford’s body.

Shifting around, Crawford turned onto his other side, disturbing Schuldig in the process. The telepath muttered in his sleep and rolled over, putting the American at his back. Crawford pushed the covers down so he could see more of the telepath’s body. Raising a hand, he touched the warm skin of his bed mate, feeling the throb in his groin increase at the deliberate contact. He slid his hand tenderly over the pale back then ran it under the fiery lacework of hair before moving it to Schuldig’s chest. Edging closer to the sleeping German, Crawford kissed along his shoulder while his hand traveled the warmth of the other man’s chest and belly.

Drawing his head back a little, Crawford raised himself up on one elbow and lowered his mouth to the telepath’s ear.

“Schuldig.” He drawled the name softly and, when that brought no response, he tried again.

He kept on trying until Schuldig finally made a low sound of protest and shifted slightly. Even that small movement caused Crawford’s need to spike, making him moan involuntarily. His fingers found one of Schuldig’s dusky nipples and teased it to a peak. The German groaned softly and wriggled his hips into Crawford’s groin with a little sigh and smile. The American inhaled sharply as his desire mounted. Continuing to coax the telepath back to consciousness and wanting to hurry the process, he drew his blunt nails along Schuldig’s ribs, causing the redhead to jerk sharply at the gentle sting.

“Wake up, Schu,” Crawford whispered the command into his ear.

Schuldig stirred in earnest now, groaning an objection as he began to wake up. Smiling to himself, Crawford pinched hard on the nipple he’d coaxed into a peak. Schuldig’s back arched, pressing his groin firmly into Crawford’s as he gave a startled cry of pleasure/pain that died off into a lush moan. His smile still in place, Crawford slid his hand up over a bony shoulder and let it travel slowly down the German’s back, past his waist to his ass, where he slowly caressed the smooth, firm butt cheeks. He nestled his cock in the crack of Schuldig’s ass and smiled at the pleased noise the telepath made.

“Are you awake?” he enquired softly. Schuldig answered but in a language Crawford had never heard from him before. “Schu,” he interrupted, letting his hand rest on the German’s hip, “you’re not making sense. Speak a language I understand.”

“Oh, ja, ja, okay, I’m awake,” Schuldig mumbled, raising a hand to rub at his eyes.

Lowering his head once more, Crawford ran his tongue along the edge of the telepath’s armpit and onto the tender skin of the underside of his upper arm. Schuldig pulled his arm down quickly and growled his displeasure at the ticklish touch. Crawford gave a small laugh before tracing kisses along a sharp shoulder blade.

Schuldig sighed contentedly. “This is a nice way to wake up,” he approved as he reached around and ran a hand over Crawford’s back and buttocks in a slow caress.

He amused himself in this way for less than a minute before snaking his hand between their bodies and taking firm grasp of the American’s erection. The pressure of Schuldig’s warm, sure, hand gripping him made the precog forget how to breathe for a moment.

“Impatient,” he chided when he found his breath again.

“You don’t mind,” Schuldig replied with a smirk as he turned his head to look up at the American through heavily-lidded eyes.

That wasn’t an invitation to be turned down. Crawford brought their lips together in a slow, leisurely kiss and as it continued, he slid his hand off the redhead’s hip and slowly stroked along his hard, erect cock. Schuldig’s breath stuttered out of him and he pulled away from the kiss, letting out a small moan.

As they teased and stroked each other, Crawford urged Schuldig onto his back then his side, so they were facing each other. Schuldig’s free arm went around his waist, holding his leader close as he sought out his lips for another deep kiss. Crawford complied, closing his eyes and letting sensation overtake him. There were so few occasions in life where he would allow himself to be this vulnerable, and even fewer people he would trust with his vulnerability in this way. Despite all their differences, despite all their bickering and their outright arguing, he trusted Schuldig. Trusted him as a friend, as a colleague and as a lover. Crawford trusted the German more than he trusted anyone else in his life.

With the way Schuldig was using his hand and his mouth right now, Crawford was reminded what a very talented lover the telepath was. He knew that if he didn’t make a move soon, the telepath would bring him to climax by use of his hand alone. While he enjoyed that on occasion, it wasn’t what Crawford wanted this time. He wanted to feel Schuldig on his cock. Without interrupting the kiss, Crawford let go of the telepath’s erection and reached for the drawer in the bedside cabinet. The temporary loss of friction irritated Schuldig, causing him to rumble in annoyance deep in his throat. Crawford almost faltered as he remembered how damned good it felt when Schuldig had a mouthful of his cock and made that same sound. Maybe next time, he told himself. Right now, he wanted more than a blow job or a hand job.

He pulled the drawer open and groped around for the lube. He soon had it in his hand and uncapped. Urging Schuldig onto his back, Crawford used his knee to nudge aside one of the German’s long, lean legs while he coated his own fingers with lube. His gaze never left the telepath. He loved to see Schuldig undone by desire; loved to see naked need in the half-closed blue eyes, the tempting, talented mouth open and panting, the pale skin slightly flushed with desire, fire-colored hair spread across the pillows, and the narrow chest heaving to accommodate the rapid breathing. Schuldig in the throes of his passion was a huge turn-on for Crawford.

As his fingers glided between the German’s butt cheeks, Crawford continued to watch the other man’s reactions. Fluttering eyelashes and stuttering breath leveled up to tightly closed eyes and gasping breaths when Crawford inserted the first, coated finger. Those breaths became moans as Schuldig writhed and jerked his hips as another slick finger was added. Crawford allowed a small smile to tease his mouth as he pushed the telepath’s need higher. Crawford knew Schuldig didn’t need the amount of preparation he was giving him. It was simply another layer of eroticism to watch the German’s arousal climb and turn to frustration as the American backed off a little before starting the whole process all over again.

When Schuldig began demanding relief in all the languages he knew, the pre-cog smiled. Crawford knew Schuldig was starting to feel desperate for relief yet he made the telepath wait a little longer. It was deliberate on his part. He wanted to see Schuldig needy and greedy for him. To control how much pleasure and when the German received it was another erotic game he liked to play with Schuldig’s body. Reaching back to the drawer, Crawford withdrew a foil. Schuldig opened his eyes and made a sound of frustration when he saw what had interrupted the sensuous assault being played out on his body. Smirking as he opened the foil, Crawford never took his gaze from the German, who tipped his head back and rocked his hips, growling his irritation at the delay.

The display of raw need from Schuldig heightened Crawford’s arousal, and making the impatient redhead wait sated his desire for control yet edged his arousal higher. He applied a drop of lube to the inside of the condom before squeezing the tip and rolling it on. He didn’t dawdle, but he didn’t rush things either despite Schuldig’s panted commands for him to hurry.

After applying a generous amount of lube to the outside of the condom, Crawford positioned himself and began a slow push into the heat of the Schuldig’s body that was deliberate to torment his partner. Schuldig whined in frustration and swore at Crawford for his slow, leisurely pace. Crawford gave a long, low sigh of satisfaction when he was fully seated and paused a moment.

“Don’t stop,” Schuldig urged hoarsely as he jerked his hips and twisted under his leader.

“Impatient.” Crawford repeated his earlier charge against the telepath with a small laugh.

In response, Schuldig raised his legs, hooking them around Crawford’s waist. The movement sent stars dancing across Crawford’s vision and, moaning, he almost fell down on top of the idiotic telepath. He caught himself, bracing his arms either side of Schuldig. Any admonishment was silenced when Schuldig raised his arms, bringing them around Crawford’s neck and locking them. The American was no telepath, but he knew what Schuldig was asking and was in the mood to agree. Crawford had teased his lover quite a bit more than usual before giving in to both their needs. Getting his knees under him, he slipped an arm around the German and pushed himself up and back bringing Schuldig with him. Schuldig gave a short, deep laugh that turned into a moan as they completed this well-practiced maneuver without separating. The German groaned his approval in the change in position and wriggled his hips, making both of them moan softly.

Reaching back behind the German, Crawford repositioned the pillows. Then, still clutching Schuldig tightly and being clutched in turn, Crawford turned and rested back against the pile of pillows he’d arranged. Schuldig unlocked his legs from around the precog’s waist, and now straddled him. With his knees on the mattress at either side of Crawford’s thighs, Schuldig was now the one in control. He would dictate the pace and depth of the fucking.

Knowing exactly how precious this relinquishing of control was, Schuldig smiled sensuously, his gaze never leaving Crawford’s as he slowly raised himself several inches then lowered himself back down onto his leader’s thighs. Crawford pressed his face into the German’s shoulder, moaning deeply at the feel of himself embedded in the heat of the other man. He was aware of the strong arm across his back and a hand entwined in the hair at the nape of his neck.

With his head still pressed against the telepath’s shoulder, Crawford could feel the rapid rise and fall the redhead’s chest. Now, the hand tangled in his hair urged his head back. Crawford complied and raised his face. Schuldig’s mouth met his in a deep and passionate kiss. As the kiss continued, Schuldig slowly raised and lowered himself on Crawford’s cock, dragging muffled groans from the precog, who was beginning to suffer an overload of sensations.

He reached between their heated bodies, firmly grasping Schuldig’s cock and sliding his lube-coated hand up and down its length. Schuldig broke the kiss hastily as he drew a hissing breath and moved his hips in a way designed to extract more pleasure from the American’s stroking. The twisting of Schuldig’s hips only added to Crawford’s sensory overload. He panted heavily, moving closer to release with each passing moment.

Schuldig made a strained sound as he let his head fall back. Crawford felt the long hair brush over the arm he had around the telepath’s waist, making him realize just how long Schuldig’s hair was getting. He rather liked the long fall of hair and several fantasies zipped through his brain that involved controlling the motions of the telepath with a firm grip on that fiery mane.

“Oh…oh…god,” Schuldig panted.

Moving his head forward, Crawford tongued the telepath’s peaked nipples, drawing more sounds of pleasure and approval from him. Then Schuldig grasped the American’s shoulders and bowed his head as he recommenced his increasingly rapid thrusting. Crawford could feel the tension humming through the telepath and continued his firm stroking, matching Schuldig’s rhythm. He knew that very soon now, the German was going to climax and when he did, he would drag Crawford to the edge and over.

Schuldig moved faster over Crawford. His skin became slick with sweat and he panted harshly. He slammed his hips down and a strangled sound of pleasure came from the German as his body clenched tight on Crawford’s cock and his own pulsed in the firm grip his leader had on it. A shudder traveled through the telepath’s body as Crawford released the German’s spent cock and gripped his hips. He raised and lowered Schuldig a few times over his erection before pulling him down hard.

Crawford pressed his open mouth against the juncture of Schuldig’s throat and shoulder, biting none too gently to muffle the cry his orgasm forced from him. When the little shivers of delight tapered off, he relaxed his hold on the German slightly, then grew still. He was only allowed a short time to collect himself before Schuldig was seeking his lips once more. After another long, deep kiss, Schuldig dropped his head onto Crawford’s shoulder, giving a heavy, replete sigh.

“Too good, too good,” he murmured almost inaudibly.

Crawford couldn’t stop the smile that came to his face, although he prevented it from growing too wide. He also held back on the impulse to hug Schuldig closer and just hold him. As much as he wanted to do that very thing, such a gesture might lead to misunderstandings, so he refrained.

After allowing them both a few minutes to recover, Crawford reached for the cabinet drawer once more, withdrawing a hand towel. When they’d cleaned themselves up, they settled back down under the covers. Schuldig drifted off to sleep in record time snuggled up to the American with a satisfied smile on his face, but Crawford only dozed, aware of what day it was and that he needed to be up and doing within the hour. He didn’t want to think of how things were going to change once he climbed out of bed, nor of what the upcoming days held in store.

One thing was certain, he didn’t need his precognition to know that Schuldig’s current contentment was going to disappear faster than a snowflake under the midday sun once he realized Takatori’s dreaded vacation was due to begin today. Add to that the fact that Miss Yamamoto’s shoot had been cancelled, allowing the vacation to be extended a further week and Crawford knew he was going to have a very pissy telepath on his hands. During recent conversations he’d deliberately let slip they’d be spending two weeks in the mountains, but Schuldig had failed to pick up on it. Now, there was nothing for it but to spell it out to him. Not a task Crawford was looking forward to.

Of course, he could try pointing out to the telepath that a sojourn in the mountains was just what he needed right now. He could detail how it would benefit Schuldig to be able to shore up and strengthen his shields without the risk of a multitude of other minds unwittingly trying to tear them down again. But he doubted Schuldig was going to be the least bit appreciative of the advantages this vacation had to offer a recovering telepath.

As for the vacation itself, apart from that one – frightening – vision that showed him Schuldig dying, he’d Seen nothing more relating to their time in the mountains. Last night’s meeting with Takatori had been illuminating and the old bastard laid all his cards on the table in regards to this holiday. It was to be a mixture of business and pleasure, and Schwarz would have work to do. Probably not a bad thing, Crawford mused, given the nature and disposition of two of the team’s members.

Turning his head a little, he glanced at one of those obstreperous men. He liked to watch Schuldig sleep; liked to see him still and quiet – not in the unnerving way he’d been when he’d been comatose but truly relaxed and content. The German lay facing him, his arm hooked around Crawford’s waist once more, pressed close against the man who was his savior when his mind began to ride that slippery slope down towards total madness. Moving his hand, Crawford brushed the backs of his fingers tenderly over one warm cheek.

You’re too reckless, Schuldig, he thought at the unhearing, uncaring telepath. I wasn’t lying earlier when I intimated that going home with the stranger would have been a bad idea. The guy was into serious pain and you were in no condition to read his mind and circumvent what he planned. Not that I’m expecting any thanks…

Removing his hand, he drew a slow, deep breath. Re-directing his attention at the ceiling, he decided he should forget about last night and just enjoy the peace and tranquility of the next half hour or so. Once he got up, things were going to get loud, as Schuldig gave voice to his displeasure. He let his eyes close, secure in the knowledge that, should he drift off to sleep, his internal alarm clock would wake him in time to get himself and his team organized for Takatori’s vacation.

• • • • • • • • • • • • •

Staring blankly out of the tinted windows of the car as they sped along the winding mountain roadway, Schuldig was lost in a world of his own. He’d been in the car almost an hour and he was no longer seething, but he was still extremely pissed off. He wasn’t sure if Crawford had tried to use the thoroughly enjoyable bout of sex to soften his ill temper about the trip or not. He wouldn’t put such a sneaky, underhanded thing past the American. Not that he was actually complaining about the sex, which had been fantastic. He just didn’t like the idea that Crawford might have been trying to manipulate him. There was only room for one head fucker in Schwarz and Schuldig was it.

On the seat opposite him, Farfarello and Nagi were ignoring him, each occupied with their own pursuit; Nagi lost in the world of music; Farfarello in a book. Fifteen minutes ago, Nagi warned that should Schuldig annoy him one more time, he would ensure the telepath regretted it. Schuldig had started to poke at Nagi’s brain, just to be contrary when the sudden lack of sweet and vital air to his lungs made him hastily back away mentally. Nagi opened his eyes, stared at the telepath for a few seconds until he was sure his point was made and went back to his music.

Schuldig gave them both a withering glance - which neither of them saw. Their lack of support for him and his attempt to escape this vacation hadn’t gone unnoticed. Abandoned to do battle on his own, his argument against being included in this little jaunt hadn’t stood a chance against the determination of his leader.

When Crawford reminded them all that today was the day they headed up into the mountains with Takatori and his current mistress, Schuldig was horrified. With everything else that happened in the past week, he’d completely forgotten about Takatori’s ‘vacation’. A mind-numbing week in the mountains was not his idea of fun. When Crawford revealed the full horror – it was now two weeks – he’d tried to pull out all stops. It’d all been over in minutes, and Schuldig hadn’t stood a chance.

“I don’t think I should go,” he’d said, from his place opposite Crawford at the breakfast table. He’d been sure to keep his voice lackluster and contrived to appear as pathetic as he possibly could. “I’m still not recovered from that attack and…”

“You’re going,” Crawford cut him short without looking up from his newspaper.

“But…”

Crawford then turned down a corner of the paper so he could glare at the telepath. “You’re going,” he repeated, his tone warning he’d brook no argument.

Schuldig had grown sullen and begun to pout. The second time he’d only gotten as far as opening his mouth before Crawford was stomping all over whatever he’d been going to say.

“You’re fine, Schuldig, bodily, at least, and a couple of weeks away from the city will serve you well in strengthening your shields and getting them back in top repair.” The glare was becoming fiercer. “This is not open for discussion,” Crawford added before letting the corner of the paper spring back, hiding him from view once more.

And here I am, Schuldig fumed quietly, stuck in a limo that’s traveling through the hills, watching the trees pass by and already bored out of my fucking mind.

He didn’t even have Crawford to annoy because Takatori wanted the American to ride with him and Miss Yamamoto. So, the leader of Schwarz was traveling in the middle car of this three-car convoy with his boss and his boss’s mistress. The other three-quarters of Schwarz were in the rear car while the lead car contained four more of Takatori’s bodyguards. When he’d realized how many of them were going on this so-called vacation, Schuldig wondered what the fuck Takatori wanted with so many bodyguards. But then, he hadn’t been curious enough to actually delve into the old bastard’s mind and steal the information. If Takatori wanted to go to the mountains with a small army of bodyguards, a pack of elephants, a troupe of dancing girls and a gaggle of geese, that was his business. What pissed Schuldig off was that he’d been included in that small army of bodyguards.

Then there was the fact that Takatori’s mistress was tagging along. You didn’t need to be an Einstein to figure out what sort of holiday this was going to be. With his shields in less than stellar shape, Schuldig really did not want to be in close proximity to a fucking Takatori – literally speaking. Just the idea he might inadvertently hear the old man grunting and puffing in his head was enough to make Schuldig feel ill. Talk about mental images that could scar you for life, he thought as he suppressed a shudder.

That thought segued into another and he found himself wondering if Crawford had ever suffered the horror of Seeing Takatori and Miss Yamamoto doing it. It was a question that certainly deserved to be asked and, if he didn’t know of a certainty that Crawford had him completely blocked, he’d have tried communicating with the American just to put that very question to him. But Crawford had grown tired of Schuldig’s mental snipping and poking within half an hour of setting off, and he’d informed the telepath he was blocking him for the rest of the journey.

I hope he’s stuck in that car with those two all over each other and playing it like newly-weds, Schuldig thought maliciously. The image that conjured made him snicker. And, Oracle, I know you can’t hear me but a word of warning, if I have to hear them going at it, I’ll be sure to share everything I get from their heads with you.

Although only Crawford had met Miss Yamamoto as yet, Schuldig had an idea of her appearance and personality. However, since he’d lifted that information from the mind of the young lady herself, he knew it wasn’t to be relied on completely. But, it was a starting point, and he had to admit that, even allowing for her own narcissism, she was extremely good-looking. She also seemed possessed of some intelligence, even if her taste in boyfriends was somewhat lacking. Schuldig snorted. Yeah, right. And the fact that Takatori was in the public eye and unspeakably wealthy had absolutely nothing to do with her choice in dirty old men.

Heaving a sigh, he looked out the car window again, moving a little to make himself more comfortable. Doing so reminded him of the additional garments they all wore today. He supposed he should be more concerned about why Crawford had insisted on the Kevlar vests being worn under their official work suits rather than thinking about Miss Yamamoto. Crawford told them he’d had a vision but that his Talent was somewhat unreliable at the moment, so he felt it best they be prepared for any eventuality. As explanations from Crawford went, it was on a par with past details the American doled out. A whole lot of nothing was Crawford’s standard operating procedure. Schuldig figured it wasn’t completely implausible that someone might attack the holidaying party as they arrived at their destination. Takatori was a politician after all, and one who was heading for the top. He had enemies and assassination might be rare but it wasn’t completely unheard of in Japanese politics.

Might spice things up a bit, anyway, he thought to himself as he watched more trees whiz by outside.

• • • • • • • • • • • • •

In the middle car of the convoy, Crawford was sitting beside Takatori, looking at a plan of a property some miles from where they would be staying. Miss Yamamoto sat on the seat opposite, feet tucked up, watching a soap-opera on the in-car television and listening to it on head-phones.

“You know what to do?” Takatori asked gruffly, looking the American in the eye.

“Yes, sir,” Crawford replied briskly.

“Good.” Leaving Crawford to fold up the plan, Takatori placed his cigar in his mouth and puffed. “If morons want to test me…I’ll make sure they regret it.”

The threat required no response and Crawford didn’t offer one. Now Takatori slid across the car to sit with his young mistress on the other seat. Crawford continued to fold the plan and tried not to breathe too deeply. The smell of the old man’s cigars made him feel ill. Not to mention that he’d reek of the stinking smoke until he’d had a shower and his clothes were thoroughly aired.

Now that business was out of the way, perhaps Takatori might stop the convoy and let him join his team mates. At least, that’s what Crawford would’ve liked to happen, but he knew it wasn’t in the cards. They’d reach their destination in under half an hour and Takatori wasn’t about to delay that arrival so Crawford could switch cars. It was better this way, anyhow, Crawford decided. It may even have been the difference between life and death. In his vision, they’d all been traveling in the one car, but here they were separated…

“Would you like a drink, Mr. Crawford?”

He looked up into the dark eyes of Takatori’s mistress. She sat opposite him, headphones discarded, holding a bottle of wine in one hand, a glass in the other and giving him an expectant look.

“Thank you, no,” he answered politely. “Not while I’m working.”

“Oh,” she pouted and looked at Takatori. “How can he be working now, Reiji?”

“He’s my bodyguard,” Takatori replied, smiling benignly at the young woman. “He has to be on alert at all times.”

“Nobody could possibly want to harm you, Reiji,” she cooed, leaning closer.

Crawford looked out the car window, finding the countryside of immense interest. He still heard the wet sounds as they kissed and, feeling ill, he turned his thoughts elsewhere. Within seconds, he’d tuned out Takatori and Miss Yamamoto and was fully focused on the days ahead. Apart from the mission Takatori had in mind for them in a few days time, there wasn’t going to be a lot for them to do. That didn’t bother him except for one thing – time on their hands. He knew Nagi could spend an eternity on his computer and not notice the passage of time. He had his own laptop and he could also lose himself for hours in a good book.

That left Schuldig and Farfarello. Farfarello let loose just before this trip and Crawford was certain his bloodlust would remain safely sated for now. Meanwhile, Farfarello could entertain himself endlessly with his knives and his books. It still amused Crawford that the Irishman could sit for hours on end, totally absorbed in a book. But he was also grateful for whatever small mercies Fate tossed his way.

Schuldig, however, was a whole other problem who couldn’t amuse himself for longer than half an hour before boredom and restlessness set in. He hadn’t wanted to be part of this mission right from the beginning – and it was a mission, no matter what form it took – so Crawford knew the German would do all he could to make life interesting for himself and, by consequence, unbearable for everyone else. He was already sulking and in a day or two he was going to be unhappy and bored; an unhappy and bored Schuldig was an extremely dangerous thing. He’d have to be watched carefully.

Apart from that one nasty vision, Crawford hadn’t foreseen any problems with this vacation, which was troubling in itself. It could mean that whatever Schuldig may have in mind, he wasn’t going to succeed in raising hell, or it could mean that the original and disturbing vision visited upon Crawford would play out exactly as he’d seen it.

No, the precog thought to himself as the car took a right-hand turn onto a smaller road. That vision will not be allowed to become reality.


• • • • • • • • • • • • •

Author’s Notes: This is the last complete chapter I had stored on my hard drive during the downtime. The next uploads won't come as quickly as I still have to write the chapters, but I'm working hard on the next one and hope to have it completed soon.

Meanwhile, I hope this is enough to keep readers happy - and hungry for more ^_~