Sunday 1.11 Up on the Rooftop

[fieryredqueen.livejournal.com]

The employees in the back rooms of Murakawa's supermarket were busy unloading shipments from the trailers of a couple of rigs--monthy or bi-monthly shipments, probably--so Farfarello was able to slip past them unnoticed, even though he was carrying a basket with the Murakawa logo printed in glaring white on all sides. The supermarket took up the bottom floor of a ten-story building, and there was an ancient-looking fire escape in the alley between the market and the bank next door. There was also a permanent escape ladder further on that looked a little newer, and went straight from the roof to ten feet above the ground. Farfarello was no grasshopper like Schuldig, but he could easily make a jump like that--another thing he could thank Eszett scientists for. Of course, while experimenting to enhance both speed and jump-range in the same muscles they'd rendered many other sets of legs completely useless, but they'd had some success with Farf.

In a flash he was climbing madly toward the roof, basket dangling from the crook of his elbow. He was still suppressing whatever it was that was welling up, but it was getting more and more difficult. It felt like if he let it out it would shatter him to pieces, and he certainly didn't want any witnesses for that. Well, except Schu. The telepath had seen (and probably at least partially experienced) a lot of Farfarello's worst moments; he wouldn't mind if Schuldig saw him collapse from this, no matter how messy it was.

Farf used the rails to vault over the edge of the roof, scaring some pigeons away in a flurry of feathers and startled cooing. He let the basket drop, and then collapsed on all fours, releasing his hold on whatever was inside him. It sort of felt like he was going to cough up all of his internal organs; that would be interesting. It would probably amuse Schuldig, too.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, suddenly, he burst out laughing. It took him completely by surprise. He'd cackled, even chuckled, maybe giggled once or twice, but he couldn't remember ever really laughing. He couldn't even recognize his voice. He fell on his side on the concrete, holding his stomach, laughing so hard that his sides felt like they would split open from the force of them, so loud that he was sure everyone in Tokyo could hear him. Tears streamed down both sides of his face--nothing wrong with the tear duct in his left eye, at any rate. The thought inexplicably made him laugh even harder, and he couldn't stop. It felt like he'd never stop.

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[fireun.livejournal.com]

A quick perimeter check informed Schuldich his shields were up and running. Wonderful. He wasnt leaking, which meant Farfarello knew him well enough to notice the little things, and was as of late lucid enough to do something about it.

A bit of icecream landed on his lips and slid its way south. Schuldich decided there was something decidedly feral in the way Farfarello was looking down on him. It was an interesting perspective on life. Schuldich decided to see how much more interesting he could make it. With a bit of languid sensuality he licked the icecream off his lower lip, keeping his eyes on Farfarello's face the entire time.

Half to dare, half so as to be able to get as early warning as possible should feral shift that little bit that would make it murderous.

[fieryredqueen.livejournal.com]

Things were becoming strange. Schuldig was staring him down, sensual, challenging him, and that remark about jealousy...

Ah. Of course. He was being teased. Schuldig had decided he was conquest material. In a way, it was flattering, but more than anything it hurt. He knew how long Schu's conquests were apt to last, and the end--after however many days or weeks it took for Schuldig to get bored--was usually a major mindtwist. He approved of the style generally, was even greatly amused by it, but thinking of Schuldig applying the same flippant style to himself...it wasn't something you'd do to someone you thought of as your equal, your teammate, your...well. They'd never really been friends, had they? Schuldig was just most often assigned to babysit him.

At least his erection was killed, now.

He looked away and pulled the knife from Schuldig's lips quickly, making a shallow cut where the ice cream had dripped, and stuck it into his own mouth. He considered moving his thigh out from under Schuldig's head, but that would have just been petty. Besides, even now, he couldn't deny that he liked it there.

[fireun.livejournal.com]

"Blood and chocolate, while interesting in theory, dont mix well." Schuldich probed at the shallow cut with his tongue. Honestly, he had been expecting to bleed a bit more for his current streak of audacity.

Something though, something he had done hadnt quite pissed his companion off, but it had sure as hell killed whatever mood had been mumbling in the background.

"I can move if you want."

[fieryredqueen.livejournal.com]

Farfarello sighed. "I don't want ye to move. And I've always been rather fond of blood and chocolate." He looked back down at Schuldig, at his stark European features, long lashes, mischievous eyes and full, bleeding lower lip. He'd always had a thing for Schu, ever since he'd first seen him after being shipped from the bowels of Rosenkreuz to...Crawford's team. (He couldn't even remember where they'd been when he'd joined them. Germany? Japan? Jamaica? Could've been Saturn, for all he knew.) Schu hadn't ever expressed that kind of desire for him--not that he could remember--and he could be far more direct if he wanted to fuck someone. Farfarello was probably just reading too much into the situation. Schuldig knew the concept of subtlety, but didn't often employ it if he didn't need to. And why would he need to with Farf? If he wanted to fuck, he'd probably say, 'let's fuck.' Ergo, he probably didn't want to. He was just teasing.

He was beginning to see the downside of lucidity. With lucidity came the ability to overthink things, which was definitely what he was doing right now.

[fireun.livejournal.com]

"You know, you are thinking hard enough to give me a headache." Schuldich made a great show of settling back against his thigh-turned-pillow, relaxing, sighing appropriately and showing no inclination to move. Relaxed. Comfortable. Well, to be fair, there was a pebble or something poking him in the small of his back, and his ass seemed to be falling asleep, but he was as comfortable as could be expected. Eyes closed, mind coiled, he was vulnerable as he rarely allowed himself to be. In his own convoluted way, Schuldich was trying to make a point.

[fieryredqueen.livejournal.com]

Farfarello was taken aback. No one, but no one closed their eyes around him. 'He can snap at any moment.' 'Always be on your guard.' 'Always watch him.' 'Never, ever give him an opening.' He couldn't remember how many times he'd heard such sentiments. Yet here was Schuldig, head on his thigh, eyes closed, giving every appearance of being fully relaxed. Even if he wasn't. It...made him feel like he'd been thinking uncharitable things about his teammate. He gently touched the cut he'd made on Schu's lip. "Why are ye letting your guard down around me, Schu? Ye shouldn't, ye know."

[fireun.livejournal.com]

"I do a pile of things i shouldn't. everyone knows that." Schuldich wriggled a bit, trying to shift away from the rock stabbling his back, trying not to nip at the finger on his lip. That was definately on the not to do list.

"Hell, Farf, I trust you to cover my back in a fight. I should be able to trust you refrain from turning me into a creative sort of corpse."

The finger on his lip was a bit too close to a suggestion for Schuldich's comfort. He didnt know if Farf meant it.

[fieryredqueen.livejournal.com]

Schuldig was showing signs of discomfort now; Farf couldn't really tell if it was because of him or because lying on the roof was uncomfortable. "Even I don't really trust me, Schu," he murmured, surprised at how sad he sounded. He traced his finger from Schu's lip up along one of his sharp cheekbones. "I've always wanted a bouquet of blue eyes to keep in my room, because I love the color of your eyes, have I told ye that? So I could look at them while I went to sleep. I've wanted to cut your eyes out so badly sometimes, especially when I was being punished and hadn't seen ye for days...it feels like past tense, but I don't know if it really is, because I still love the color of your eyes."

[fireun.livejournal.com]

"Ya know, Farf, that might be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me." Schuldich opened his eyes and sported a crooked grin, leaning into the finger running across his cheek just enough to show he enjoyed the attention.

[fieryredqueen.livejournal.com]

Farf's eye widened momentarily. He'd meant to give an example of why he couldn't, shouldn't, be trusted, but...

Well, Schuldig had just said he did loads of things he shouldn't do.

He laid his palm against Schuldig's cheek, running his thumb just lightly under Schu's bottom lip. There was a twisting sensation in his chest as he stared into those unfathomable eyes, sharp with intelligence, mischief and malice.

"You're acting strange," he said softly.

[fireun.livejournal.com]

Schuldich barked a laugh. Now they were back onto familiar ground. Someone calling Schuldich strange. Typical. Schuldich rolled over, trying to smother harsh laughter against Farfarello's thigh.

Great. Now he had a rock poking him in the stomach.

And it all came full circle, from one bout of hysterics to the next. Schuldich shook with gasping cackles and howling that sounded more like a cat fight than actual mirth.

Strange. Fey and wild. That was Mastermind. Something to toss at the enemies and appreciate the ensuing chaos. Amused at his own self-deprecating turn of thought, Schuldich snorted out a giggle.

The whole situation was rather funny. He hated being submissive to anyone, anything, but there he was, every inch of position and posture suggesting he was less than alpha in this particular situation. He was settling back and letting someone else be in charge, and that someone was perplexed.

"Yup. Strange. That's me." The sound of Schuldich's voice, muffled against Farf's leg, threatened to send him into another bout of unhinged hysterics. "Aren't we a pair."

[fieryredqueen.livejournal.com]

At first he'd thought Schuldig was mocking him with the laughter, but it went on too long for that. It sounded more like he was mocking himself. Not unheard of, but rare. Schu was definitely in a very rare mood. Farfarello couldn't interpret it, not really, but it seemed like his fiery-headed companion wanted something from him. Needed something, maybe. Possibly something Farfarello wouldn't be able to give, but he supposed he'd never know if he didn't ask.

"Schu..." He trailed off, leaning forward, brushing off his hands and combing both of them through Schuldig's mane, over and over. He couldn't figure out exactly what to say. "My entire life, I've never been so close to anyone as I am to ye, and it still feels like I only have the slightest understanding of ye. If something's bothering ye..." Again he trailed off, suddenly self-conscious. "Is it me?" he asked, never pausing while stroking his fingers through Schu's hair, over his perfectly formed skull. Hsir that wasn't as beautiful as the Abyssinian's, but still looked devastating when splashed with blood. His fingers itched for his knives, to slice his fingers so he could watch the strange play of dark running red and hot orange. "Is it me?" he repeated, whispering.

[fireun.livejournal.com]

"Naw, Farf. You wont be bothering me until you stop messing with my hair." Fey humor still intact, Schuldich just barely resisted the urge to gnaw playfully on Farfarello's leg.

"You arent bothering me. I'm bothering me." Conversations and concerns trailed about in Schuldich's brain with the usual unpredictable speed. Play slid back to a skewed sort of concern within the space of an inhalation. "You dont trust me, do you? You think I'm playing with ya."

[fieryredqueen.livejournal.com]

"Maybe. I don't really know what to think. I've never really seen ye like this before. Or I have, and was in such a different frame of mind that I experienced it differently." He switched one hand from carding through Schu's hair to massaging his scalp. "If I can trust you're not playing with me, Schuldig, then tell me, my lovely, what are ye doing?"

[fireun.livejournal.com]

"I believe the word I'm lookin for is 'flirting', in a typically inexplicable sort of way."

Schuldich had a feeling his muttering wasnt going to be muffled or garbled by proximity to thigh enough to render it incomprehensible.

Flirting. With violence, with danger, with a companionship that had been pretty much constant through many years. With something that wouldnt break, that might actually break him. Somewhere between adrenaline and honest affection his brain had nested Farfarello.