Waiting

Fandom: Weiss Kreuz
Disclaimer: not mine
Rating: R for some sexual thought
Pairing: several, all implicit
Warning: should Farfarello POV be considered a warning? ;-)


WAITING
By Sophia Moon

I am waiting. I am waiting till he saunters in. He won\'t see me.
No, he won\'t see me at all. It doesn\'t matter, as long as I get
to see him.

The little ones are sitting in a quiet corner. Cute, innocent boys.
Hands touching wile they reach for their soda\'s. Look, they\'re
blushing.

I am waiting. I know he will not stay away. I know he will not be
here because of me. Doesn\'t matter, as long as I get to see him.

Our redhead is courting Yohji of Weiss. Soft smiles, half open
appreciation of honey coloured hair by touching the almost girlish
locks. And Yohji leans in for a first kiss.

I am waiting. With the patience of a true madman I am waiting. His
heart will not skip a beat because I\'m here. Doesn\'t matter,
as long as I get to see him.

Crawford sits at the bar and drinks his beer. He is in no hurry. Dark
hair, handsome, regular features, stylish costume. He can afford to
take his time.

I am waiting. And I am thinking red and blood and knives. But then, I
am always thinking knives. Knives and God. I am thinking skin white
as alabaster. I am thinking God\'s tears.

Nagi and Omi are holding hands. Nagi is thinking of a reason to kiss
his little friend. You see, Schu, I am a mind reader too. But
you\'re not reading mine at the moment, or are you? Still, I know what you
are thinking. You are thinking long legs wrapped around your hips.
Strong hands gripping the headboard of a bed in some hotel room.
Almost too painful heat surrounding your cock. A voice pleading fuck
me, fuck me hard and deep and till kingdom comes. What else is there
to think, Schu?

I am waiting. Not much else to do, is there? Not for the lack of
stealthy looks, of openly made offers. I know I look like the
perfect little slave. But what fun would it be, if the slave never
feels any pain?

Once I crawled across the room towards Crawford. Just for the fun of
it. I am, after all, the madman of Schwarz. I cleaned his custom made
shoes. With my tongue, mind you. Not that they needed any cleaning.
Still I did my best. No fun in doing a job less than perfect. Not
with Crawford, but you understand that, don\'t you.
He allowed me to give him head afterwards. A sign of great trust on
his behalf. It made me almost wonder if I was doing something God
wouldn\'t mind too much.

Why are you looking at me, Bradley? Don\'t worry, I am sitting
quietly here. Minding my own business. Waiting.
Of course I smuggled a knife inside. A very small one. Too naked
without. That doesn\'t mean I am planning on using it. I just want
to know it\'s there. Just like you will never leave the house without
being dressed immaculate, whatever the newest queer fashion dictates,
Bradley. Sorry, I forget, you don\'t like being called that. So
Crawford it is.

Nagi is trailing butterfly kisses on a beardless jaw. A head is
tilted to give access to a slim neck. A pink tongue licks across
kissable lips.
But they are not innocent. O yes, they look the part. In the rotten
world that is Weiss, that is Scharz, they come as close to the real
thing as is humanly possible. But still, God wept many tears over
this sweet boys. And if they keep doing what they are obviously
planning, all of His angels will bow their heads in sorrow.

It is of no concern to me. For once, I don\'t care if God is
hurting.
I wait and there is no room for anything else.
So Schuldich can put his hand on Yohji\'s behind for all I care.
And Yohji can move his ass a little to show his approval.
Mind you, I see it all, but I couldn\'t care less. I am here for
one reason only.

Crawford is quietly refusing a drink from a very attractive young
man. I am not totally blind you know. You are waiting, Bradley
Crawford, but for what? For the same miracle as I am? As all of us
here?

He isn\'t alone. There is always sweet, gentle Ken. The most
beautiful man I have ever laid my eyes on is deeply devoted to a boy next door.
Not that there is anything wrong with Ken. Half the public in this
den of sin would gladly take sweet Ken to their mothers. See, mom,
there are decent, normal looking gay men.
But it is Aya who has the choice. He just had to say the word and I
would follow him to hell and back. I give him a choice and he
doesn\'t even know.

Bashful like a young girl I would show him the knife I specially
bought for him. The Aya knife. Beautiful in it\'s simplicity.
Perfectly sharp. Waiting for the meeting between blade and alabaster
skin. Would he offer the blank skin of his back to me to carve my
words of love in elegant red letters? Would I be able to accept such
gift?

I look at him as he walks past me, not seeing me. He nods his
recognition to Omi who, radiant with love, greets him.

\"Hello Aya, Kenken, \" says Yohji, his body against
Schuldich\'s like it already belongs there. Aya frowns, but doesn\'t say a word.
After all, this is the silence between the old war and the new one
that\'s not happening yet.
They sit at a table. Ken orders two beers. Then Aya does something
that almost breaks my heart. It\'s not the first time I see him do it.
In fact, I\'ve seen it many times. It still is the closest to hurt
I will ever come. He touches Ken\'s hand. He smiles.

My heart breaks. My cock twitches. I think knife and translucent
skin. I think red hair. No dye. A men like Aya doesn\'t go for the
dramatic. He just accepts his redness. Does he even remotely realize
how godforsaken beautiful he is?

I saw him fight. Perfect, elegant movements. Deadly. I offered him my
throat. A small price if it meant being noticed by him. This was our
undeniable bond between hunter and prey. Just as real as between
lover and beloved.
Crawford intervened. I hated him. I let him fuck me less than half an
hour after that, against the wall in some dark alley. My legs around
his hips, his cock driving in so hard it almost hurt. I wished it
would hurt. But hurting is not a talent I am blessed with. God hates
me as much as I hate him.
I thought Crawford\'s cock would be cold. But of course it was as
warm as blood. Even the hand that stroked me in a harsh rhythm wasn\'t
really cold.
He came almost without making a sound, except for a brief whisper
that made me blink. \"Jei.\"

You see, I remember it, Crawford. Do you? For a moment I let my eye
divert from the one who really matters and look at Scharz\'
leader. He looks back at me. He is hurting. I see it in his eyes. He is hurting
so much, I can almost see the edges of his shattered heart sticking
through his chest. Then he looks away from me again.

Someone stupid enough tries to hit on Ken. If he can\'t get Aya
alone, maybe he can get both at the same time. It\'s an attractive man.
Nothing wrong with that. But Aya doesn\'t do threesomes. Aya does
Ken. And even Ken is not altruistic enough to share the redhead. So Ken
smiles and ignores the man, who is all but laughed at by the rest of
us.
Aya chooses to ignore the little scene. He knows propositions are
easy made here and rejection readily accepted. Nothing personal.

I\'ve seen him. My waiting wasn\'t in vain. I had my fill,
though it wasn\'t nearly enough.
Crawford walks towards the door. He pays for his and my drinks, so I
don\'t have to think about that. I follow him outside, but not
before committing the ultimate stupidity of looking into Aya\'s eyes.
Whatever it is one can find there, it has nothing to do with me. He
doesn\'t even hate me.

I wonder if I can stay in Crawfords bed after he\'s done fucking
me.
Can I, Bradley?