Creativity

Title: Creativity
Author: Lauand
Beta: Bookofnicodemus (Sex slave #6)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: OCCness, changes of tone and bad rhythm. Explicit sex.
Summary: Crawford. Schuldig. Hot springs. PWP. That kind of sums it up.
Prompt: Weiss Kreuz, Schuldig/Crawford: hot springs/bathhouse/etc - blowing bubbles.
Notes: I don’t like whining authors, but I want you to know that I know that this is crap. My most humble thanks to Books for being both my beta-reader and my god. Written for the Springkink LJ Community.

CREATIVITY


Crawford sank with a sigh into the warm pool. Of all the Japanese customs, bathing in hot springs was surely the best. Closing his eyes behind his already fogged glasses, he leaned his head back on the pool rim and let himself relax, if only for a little while.

The bad thing about precognition was that it was a flickering gift. You could read thoughts or move objects at will if that was your ability, but visions came to you only when they felt like it. Therefore, Crawford inwardly cursed when the sound of the door sliding open and the pad of some bare feet announced the (unwanted and unbidden, if not entirely unsurprising) presence of another person in his private pool.

“You’re a fucking freak,” the familiar nasal voice stated, “you don’t take your glasses off even when you’re alone in the fucking bath?”

“I was expecting you,” the Oracle lied.

Schuldig shrugged and got into the pool at the opposite end from Crawford. He was already naked. The Oracle tried not to roll his eyes at imagining his telepath walking around the inn totally undressed, coming across the other guests, not giving a damn about all the different kinds of stunned looks he was receiving.

“Ahh…” The German sighed as he soaked in the warm water, “This must be the only thing the Japanese did right.”

Crawford didn’t agree outwardly. He would have let himself be skinned alive before admitting he had been thinking the exact same thing barely five minutes ago. Sometimes, at those uncanny coincidences, the American wondered if his telepath only pretended not to be able to read him.

Now, his relaxing bath was ruined. Schuldig was totally unable to be still for more than two minutes (and that was his top record, normally he didn’t even make it to the first thirty seconds), so Crawford waited with some annoyance for the telepath to start being a bother. An activity the German excelled at.

As expected, it wasn’t long until Schuldig’s foot brushed his leg. No shock there. Inventive as the German was, it wasn’t that hard to imagine what he would be looking for, stark naked, in Crawford’s warm pool. Anything was possible, but sex was the most probable option.

Schuldig’s toes wormed his way from his knee to the inside of the Oracle’s thigh, slowly, teasingly, until he couldn’t reach any further from the far end of the pool he was sitting at.

Slowly, deliberately, Crawford removed his glasses. They were of no use fogged as they were. He then kept still and waited for Schuldig’s next move. He didn’t have to wait long.

The redhead’s foot disappeared from his thigh and the orange head left his myopic sight only to pop up again shortly after between his legs. Crawford idly wondered how the telepath had achieved a dive in so shallow a pool and managed not to hit himself against the rough floor and walls, but again, the German had always been terribly flexible.

With his orange hair plastered to his head, his sparkling bright eyes and a mischievous smirk on his lips, Crawford thought he had a water sprite between his thighs. Not such an appalling prospect. At all. Schuldig’s tongue made its appearance to lick the excess of water off his own lips and Crawford observed with feigned disinterest as the soft, rosy flesh gave slightly under the pressure of that talented tongue, only to take again its usual, glistening condition when Schuldig ended his licking. The telepath’s grin was so wide that it showed his sharp, white teeth. Crawford’s eyes could be as cold as they wanted, and his breathing as controlled as everything that depended on the precog’s will. But under the water, Crawford’s cock was definitely interested, and that was triumph enough for the ruthless telepath.

Without taking his eyes off the calm bastard, Schuldig’s hands spread the precog’s thighs wider and got closer still. He then licked his lips, again. Interested became an understatement when describing the state of Crawford’s cock.

Without any more warning than the widening of his already broad smirk, Schuldig’s head dove underwater with a quiet splash. His hands forced Crawford’s legs wider still before his mouth engulfed the precog’s hard cock. The Oracle bit his lip to keep from growling, from thrusting, from lowering his shields. It was not that often that the sensual redhead skipped foreplay and got to the point. More than once, the telepath had simply tempted, teased, with not-so-subtle hints and not-so-delicate touches only to leave him alone afterwards, unsated and aching, casting an evil smirk over his shoulder as he walked sultrily out of the room, daring the precog to chase him, to hunt him down, to give in. To show that he wanted him. That he needed him. But Crawford never fell for the telepath’s little games. He would die of blue balls before giving up control. He wouldn’t turn Schuldig down, but he won’t go after him, either.

Crawford focused on his breathing and tried to ignore the waves of increasing pleasure that Schuldig’s sweet mouth was forcing on him. The redhead was awfully talented. But Crawford would be damned before he let this telepath undo him.

/You’re going to drown if you keep that up,/ he directed his thoughts at the telepath, knowing that the words said aloud would be lost to the ears underwater.

Crawford could nearly envision the frown in the orange eyebrows. He indulged in a tiny smile he knew the telepath wouldn’t be able to see with his head buried in the Oracle’s crotch. Crawford knew, too, how to be annoying.

/Are you bitching by principle or did you have a vision that supports your nagging?/ came the telepathic response, with only the slightest disturbance in the rhythm his mouth was following on the precog’s cock.

/Being who we are, would you believe the answer?/ Crawford smirked, /Can you tell when I’m telling you the truth?/

Somewhat irked at Crawford’s refusal to just shut up and enjoy the blowjob, Schuldig relaxed his throat further and swallowed his boss’ dick up to the hilt. /Brad, I’m a fucking telepath. Of course I can./

/You can’t read me./

/So what?/ The fact that Crawford’s mental voice was getting weaker and a little breathy made him feel a bit better, but the Oracle was being especially uncooperative and stubborn, and that pissed Schuldig off. He reluctantly released that warm, hard cock that fit so perfectly in his mouth and emerged to the surface. After taking a breath and shaking his head to get rid of some water, he spoke aloud. “If you could predict all my fucking moves and I could read all your fucking, annoying reasons, life would be a fucking bore.”

“Your badmouthing is getting dull,” the precog informed him, “there are more swear words than just ‘fuck’.”

In Schuldig’s humble opinion, no one had the right to utter such careless words with such a cold voice while being serviced by him. Especially when looking so flushed with arousal, so naked, so young with the black hair mussed and the hazel-coloured eyes unprotected by the usual glasses. In Schuldig’s humble opinion, no one had the right to be as hot as the American was. Or such a bastard.

“You want me to be creative with my mouth?” The redhead asked, more than slightly piqued. “Just wait and see…”

With that, the telepath dove again and took Crawford’s dick laterally against his mouth, as if it was a flute, and started to blow tiny bubbles up and down the shaft. Like little raspberry kisses. Up, over the water, Crawford had to stifle his laughter. It wasn’t as pleasurable as what Schuldig had been doing before, but it was oddly charming. And it tickled like Hell. Down there, Schuldig attacked his balls. It was more and more difficult not to squirm or to laugh. He was even more ticklish around his sack. Fortunately, the redhead ran out of air pretty soon and had to break the surface of the water again to breath, a devious smirk dancing on his lips.

Even as Schuldig was still catching his breath, Crawford reached out and thumbed those soft, pliant lips, before pushing the thumb inside. Schuldig’s mouth was wet and hot. The telepath raised his chin as he nipped on the thick finger and brushed it with his tongue. It tasted salty. Schuldig kept his lips parted, refusing to suck on the digit, but caressing it with his tongue, with his teeth, playing with him, smirking around it, daring Crawford to take what he wanted, giving him permission to do whatever the Oracle wished to do to him if only the precog fucking dared to take the initiative and do it.

And for once, perhaps only for this time, Crawford gave in and, removing his thumb from that hot, moist mouth, grasped Schuldig’s hair with both hands and forced that orange head once again underwater, shoving it against his groin, rubbing his cock against that pretty face. Gladly taking the hint, the telepath opened his mouth and obediently accepted that thick, hard, hot flesh that blindly thrust, trying to find him. Schuldig missed the sigh that Crawford let out at finally having his cock encased in that wet heat; he simply remained still as the precog moved his hips and rhythmically fucked his mouth.

Schuldig knew what he was doing. He relaxed and adapted to Crawford’s steady rhythm, caressing with his hands whichever part of the Oracle’s anatomy that he could reach. But what really made the difference for the American, wasn’t so much Schuldig’s ability as the fact that it was no feeble young girl or paid prostitute who submissively swallowed his cock, but Schuldig, wild, untameable, rebellious Schuldig, on his knees, underwater, sucking him like a good little slut.

Extraordinary as Schuldig’s air capacity was, he soon started to run out of oxygen. He tried to disengage himself and break the surface to breathe, but Crawford held him in place. One thrust more, two, three, four thrusts… The telepath started to struggle in earnest, but Crawford didn’t relent.

/Crawford…/

It did sound rather like a warning, but in Crawford’s mind, it tasted like a plea. With one more thrust, he released the telepath, physically aching at the absence of that heat, that touch, that perfect sensation what was Schuldig’s mouth on his cock.

The redhead broke the water and panted, trying to catch his breath, eyes narrowed in a rancorous glare. ‘Bastard’, they seem to say, even if the telepathic voice was silent. Crawford couldn’t help thinking that Schuldig was beautiful when angered.

The Oracle attempted to graze again his fingers against Schuldig’s lips, now darker after being wrapped so earnestly around his cock, but the telepath subtly evaded him. Crawford tried again, and again barely an inch kept him from the redhead. Eyes still locked, Schuldig still panting, the Oracle insisted. Schuldig retreated a step. Crawford advanced. They danced around each other, Schuldig’s expression changing slowly from a glare to a smirk. That was what made the redhead feel alive… the games, the uncertainty, the turnabouts. And finally, finally, being chased by Brad Crawford.

They moved carefully, watching each other, circling, measuring, until the right moment arrived and Crawford feinted a move. Unable to read his leader’s mind, Schuldig started to shun in the direction he was being led to only to get caught and taken down. They started struggling then, water loudly splashing, Schuldig testing the American’s strength, putting on an act, wishing to be trapped. He didn’t protest when he was turned around and pressed against the border of the pool, rocky ornaments digging uncomfortably in his chest. He just gasped and arched his back, like a cat in heat, rubbing against Crawford, who couldn’t be sure if Schuldig was really so slutty by nature or if he was making an act only to get him worked up. Anyway, it didn’t matter. He rubbed back against Schuldig.

Water was a really bad lubricant, but neither of them would stop to search for supplies. Efficient as in everything he did, Crawford put one finger in Schuldig, then added another, careful as the redhead bucked against him like a wild animal, quietly moaning in rhythm with the precog’s fingers. The American swallowed, aroused as he watched a third finger disappear into Schuldig’s wanton body. The redhead bucked again.

/Claim me…/

The whisper was faint in his head. Crawford considered ignoring the plea. He knew of Schuldig’s natural reluctance at being owned, and he disliked following his subordinate’s commands, even if they were sugarcoated as begging. But he was so hard that it hurt. Literally.

/Spread your legs, Schuldig./

Still impaled by the three fingers, the redhead obeyed. Little by little, feeling the changing pressure of those fingers in him at every shift of his weight.

/Do it…/

Again that breathiness, like a ghost in Crawford’s mind. The Oracle’s control was about to snap, his hips begging to thrust, his cock screaming to be buried in that hot, tight ass… he palmed himself briefly, but it only accentuated his thirst for a body, so he stopped.

/Do it, Crawford…/

It sounded like a keen, high pitched and desperate. Schuldig bucked again and a soft moan left his parted lips.

/Do it…/

He spread his impossibly wide thighs just a little bit more, and clenched around Crawford’s fingers only to relax again afterwards, restlessly moving, like a hungry beast, nervous, anxious, not really knowing what it wanted. Only that Crawford knew.

/Do it, please!/

More abruptly than he intended, Crawford withdrew his fingers and positioned his cock against Schuldig’s hole. His brow wet with sweat at restraining himself so hard, the Oracle pushed a little only to retreat again when Schuldig started to thrust back. Schuldig whimpered.

/Stay still,/ Crawford directed.

The precog couldn’t see his subordinate’s face, but he could easily imagine his closed eyes, his white teeth biting those flushed, swollen lips, his cock hard and leaking, impossibly hot and desperate. Just like Crawford’s.

Placing his left hand on Schuldig’s pale hip, he guided himself with his right and teased Schuldig’s hole until it clenched and unclenched under the head of Crawford’s cock. The redhead muffled another moan and Crawford slowly pushed and slid inside. He got just the head in, then stopped.

/Stay still,/ he repeated, knowing that Schuldig would need to be reminded.

The telepath whimpered but obeyed. Nevertheless, Crawford withdrew again and Schuldig had to bite his lip harder not to cry out in frustration.

/Crawford…!/ he sent telepathically, though.

Both of them were heavily panting, now. The Oracle enjoyed the view of that strong body, pale and slender, spread and arched just for him. He knew that Schuldig had to be cursing him in that pretty orange head of his, but no complaint passed his lips or the shields of his mind. He had to be really desperate, to be so quiet.

Once again, Crawford positioned his cock and pushed until the head was encased in that tight, wonderful heat. He gripped Schuldig’s hip harder and the telepath whimpered. He waited. Schuldig kept immobile while Crawford tortured both the redhead and himself, the head of his cock stretching Schuldig’s ass but neither moving forwards nor backwards.

/Please, Crawford, please…/

The Mastermind would get his revenge later, they both knew. Only Crawford would dare to make him beg like this, knowing he would be able to face the consequences.

/Crawford, please…/

The Oracle didn’t move. Unable to resist anymore, Schuldig thrust back, but the precog moved back exactly at the same time and they obtained to friction.

/Fuck me, please…/

Crawford pushed until he was halfway in. He then withdrew until only the head kept buried in Schuldig’s ass. He finally thrust until he was in to the hilt. Schuldig sighed. At last.

/Harder, harder, please…/

Crawford obliged. He placed both of his hands on the German’s hips and started to fuck the redhead. He didn’t want to stop watching that hot body undulate, bent over the rim of the pool, accepting and clenching around Crawford’s hard cock, but he really had to close his eyes in order to concentrate on not to come. He kept on thrusting, fighting the pleasure that threatened to overwhelm him.

/Fuck me harder, Crawford, fuck me, fuck me…/

The slick skin of Schuldig’s hips under his fingers, the thighs slamming against thighs, the rough floor under his bare feet, the humid, warm air rushing in and out of his lungs… his rock hard cock entering Schuldig’s tight body again and again and again…

Crawford interrupted his steady rhythm to grab the redhead’s wrists and twist his arms, pinning them both on the small of his back.

“Don’t touch yourself, Schuldig,” he commanded aloud, ignoring the telepath’s desperate whimper.

The Oracle then resumed his pounding and when Schuldig stopped debating and Crawford was sure he wouldn’t try to free himself, he let his left hand creep towards that orange head and grabbing the bright mane, he pulled until Schuldig arched his back.

“Ah…!”

Crawford thrust faster and Schuldig, legs spread, back arched, eyes shut, mouth open, and cock dark, hard as iron, begging for attention it wasn’t receiving, started emitting little mewling sounds.

The Oracle was so close now, so close… he released the redhead’s hair and wrists and took the German’s dick in his hand. Never losing the rhythm, Schuldig thrust back to fuck himself on Crawford’s cock and forward to fuck Crawford’s hand. The combined sensations were poison for his senses. He couldn’t hear, couldn’t see, couldn’t smell… he was only able to feel the mounting pleasure, to the point it was unbearable, to the point he was going to fucking implode, to the point…

With a loud cry, Schuldig came. Shortly after, he could feel Crawford shooting inside him. It took them a long while to catch his breath. It was only then that Schuldig became conscious again of the damned rocks digging and scrapping his chest (he even bled, for fuck’s sake!), of Crawford’s face, sweaty and young and closed-eyed turned to the skies, from where the Oracle had half-sat down, half-fallen after that mind-blowing orgasm, and of the petrified maid that watched them, mouth agape, eyes the size of Canada, fresh towels fallen at her feet. Japanese people were so impressionable…

Her thoughts were like a needle stinging Schuldig’s brain.

“Please, don’t be naïve,” the telepath answered her unspoken thoughts, “that wasn’t two men making love, sweetheart… that was two men fucking.”

“Wipe her memory, Schuldig,” Crawford calmly ordered without opening his eyes, “I don’t want problems.”

The redhead sighed. Crawford was no fun, really. A pity, since he was so incredibly good at sex. Well, nobody was perfect.

Carefully, realizing how sore he already was (just a fraction of how he would be tomorrow), Schuldig seated himself next to his leader.

“Yes, sir.”

The mocking tone made the words disrespectful, but Crawford didn’t mind at the moment. He knew his telepath would do as told.

As the sliding door opened and closed, they both relaxed and confirmed that hot springs, indeed, were the best places to visit in Japan.