Part 4- Where You Go When You're Gone
[Version 1.0]

Crawford, who had been making his way to the bathroom (passing 
Schuldich with a grope of his bare ass and a lewd thought), paused on 
the threshold of said chamber to cast a decidedly cold look in the 
direction of Savil's room. 

"Clubbing?"

The ruined clothes on his shoulder landed in a haphazard pile on the 
black tile floor and Crawford retraced his steps. Threatened the 
growling Farfarello with a kick as he approached Savil's door. 

"How long ago did you see him, Savil?"

***

"Mmm?" The little girl began, deliberately taking too long to muse over 
everything.  "About the time you first... Farfie! Down boy! Bad dog! 
...went out on the deck I suppose."

/Don't you two take forever! No wonder you're all exhausted and 
grouchy./

Farfarello whimpered in a decidedly canine fashion and rather scratched 
at the door before rolling over and falling back to sleep.  

"An hour maybe? Don't worry though.  If he started breaking things with 
his mind, I'm sure they'll call us."

Just then, from the master bedroom.  "Oh Braaaad! I'm all alone in the 
tub with my rubber duckie and two lit cigarettes! I don't want to end 
up molesting my toys now!"

As the somewhat irate remarks from behind her door began to fade, 
Saffie called brightly.  "Oyasumi nasai, Bradley!"

Something muttered in German answered her.

***

Yes, Nagi had gone clubbing, but clubbing wasn't what he was in the 
process of doing.  In fact, he was currently lying naked on a narrow, 
twin bed, and the gorgeous Olivier was stretched out on top of him, 
equally naked with his mouth attached to one nipple.   

The air was filled with greedy slurps and Nagi's soft moans.  The bed 
creaking beneath them.  

"Tu es tres beau, Nagi.  Mon cher."  

More soft kisses across his slender chest, and yet more slurps when 
Olivier encountered the other nipple.  

"Don't...tease me."

Olivier chuckled, and nipped at his chest, leaving a telltale bruise 
on the flat pad of skin above the aureole.  "But you have done 
nothing but tease me all these months."  He laved the spot with a 
broad swipe of his tongue.  "It is only fair."

"Not fair."  This said with an arch of his back and a gentle thrust 
of his hips, nudging their erections together.  It was Olivier's turn 
to moan then.

"That wasn't fair either."

Nagi only smirked, and wrapped one leg around Olivier's waist.  "Too 
bad."

"You aren't as innocent as you look."

The smirk faded at that, and an odd gleam sparked in the Japanese 
boy's eyes--odd enough to make Olivier wonder over the change.  

"No, I'm not," he agreed softly.  

/If you knew the truth...Would you still be with me now?/  

Nagi raised his other leg and hitched it around his waist, crossing 
his ankles.  Rolled his hips forward to force Olivier's mind back 
onto the business at hand.  

/Probably not./

He arched against him again in silent urging.  

/Fuck the truth./

"Fuck me..."

He bucked upward again, and again, and again until Olivier, half-
driven mad with lust, complied.  

And then, Nagi cried.  Tears and whimpering and pitiful moans as he 
was roughly impaled, over and over, his hands pressed into the 
mattress above his head.  

***

"Seems I'm not the only voyeur in this relationship.  I'll have to 
remember that."

Youji grinned at that--feral and sly--and sat up on the bed.  Faced 
Omi with his legs bent and spread.  

"I don't want you to miss anything."

Youji took his half-hard sex in hand, and locked eyes with Omi.  
Toyed with himself more than stroked.  

He dabbed one finger in the moist slit, and ran it down the central 
vein, and back up, his hips flexing forward with the light touch.  
Rimmed the rosy head, then encircled it with his whole hand, and 
began to pump.  Slowly.  Wanting to draw it out.  Wanting to give Omi 
a decent show.  

His mind began to race as his penis stiffened even more, flashing 
images of women he'd known at first, and then, images of Omi, spread 
out under him and thrashing as he took him.  Youji leaned back then, 
resting his weight on one elbow as he increased the speed of his 
hand, head tilted back and mouth opened in a slack little "o".  

And then he moaned, helplessly, his hips rocking forward with every 
wild slide of his palm.  

***   

/I seriously did not expect you to actually... do it.../

Omi found himself obliged to start fanning his face with one hand, his 
own swollen sex with the other.  But this made his wide eyes burn... for 
many reasons...

/...err... yourself/

This was more than just a sympathy pain though... this was outright 
jealousy of all things.  He felt those hands coasting over his own 
stuff form, that rosy member in his own hands... his mouth on one of 
those oh so sensitive nipples.

He moaned in supplication and his own folly, one of his hands finally 
creeping down between his own legs.

/So what are you thinking of, Youji-kun...? What's making you moan like 
you were in me?/

/Memories of me, or someone else?/

/Memories of yourself?/

/Something totally wild and sexy you haven't bothered me with yet?/

"You win!" he cried breathlessly, and almost of another's will, found 
himself leaping off the bed.  His lover didn't seem to notice at first, 
but when he did, started blinking dumbly in protest.

After all, Omi had gone to the cupboards, suspecting he might find what 
he desired.

Sure enough, hidden beneath the dresser, the omnipresent hotel fridge, 
full stocked.  Omi snatched a bottle from it, clasping the cool glass 
to one cheek.  /So I'll just make them be of me.../

"Youji-kun!" he tittered, hiding his treasure behind his palm.  "We 
should celebrate your victory."

With that, he did something wholly un-Omi like and bit the cap out of 
the tiny bottle, spitting it into a corner.  Then he kneeled on the 
bed, mopping at his own full-figure blush with his own hands...

And proceeded to douse his companion with chocolate liqueur.

***

Youji was so enthralled by the sight of his Omi, naked and blushing  
practically all over, that he barely took any notice of the bottle-- 
that is until his Omi upending it over him, and poured the icy,  
alcohol-sharp, pale brown liquid over his skin.  
 
He gasped. He writhed in an useless attempt to escape it. Bit back  
a curse and laughed.  
 
"That's cold!" he cried, fixing his lover with startled eyes. "Oh,  
Omi! You are EVIL!"  
 
He watched the liquor flow down him, running in rivulets over his  
legs and arms to the bed, pooling in more interesting places. He  
dabbed his little finger at his stomach, and dipped it into his  
mouth, and wafted his tongue down the length of it, removing it with  
a pop!  
 
"It's good, Omi. You should have some." 

***

"Oh, I'd love some..." Omi began with a long smile that barely parted 
over his teeth.  It was these already open lips he pressed to his 
lover's mouth as he took it, dabbing up every last trace of chocolate, 
and much more, since the chocolate there had been a fleeting thing.  
"Mnn... can't taste it too much there.  Let me see..."

A little flicker of his tongue and he began to lick his way down 
Youji's chest, finding the skin beneath him utterly lost beneath the 
aroma of the liqueur and sensual sweat; the taste of the alcohol that 
bit at his tongue.  Oh, but it was good after the first slightly salted 
slurp and he slunk over closer, his thin limbs meeting the sweetened 
ones, sliding together with the force of their movements as he ever so 
slowly pushed Youji down to the bed.

"You taste so good when you're unnerved.  I guess I'll just have to get 
used to keeping you guessing.  Don't hate me for it.  Don't be really 
scared.  I want you.  I can't help it... but I'm gonna make you squirm 
just the same... mmmm yes.  I'm very, very evil."

***

/Youji, old man, by the look in Omi's eyes and the way he has you  
pinned to the bed, I believe you are on the way to being thoroughly  
fucked./  
 
He groaned then at the image that realization produced.  
 
/All that energy and youthful, fervent lust in the form of a  
beautiful boy crouched between my legs, talking dirty...Shimatta!/ 
 
/Oh, man! I love my life sometimes!/ 
 
He moaned again, and wriggled. 
 
"I want you too. And I'm going to show you just how much before this  
week is over..." 
 
"Over and over. But for now..." Here he broke off with a quiet  
little moan and a caress of Omi's shoulders. Spread his legs a  
little further apart, from where they had fallen together at the  
sensation of cold.  
 
"I'm going to lay back and let you make me squirm."  
 
***

Omi ardently regretted his lusty little whispers, since they seemed to 
have been horribly, horribly misconstrued.  He glanced away then for a 
second, one hand still firmly latched to his lover's thigh.  His lover 
very open chocolate drenched thigh.

"Umm... Youji-kun?" he began, leaning down for a little kiss.  Lips only.  

"I didn't mean... that." /I was just going to play without until... you 
know.  I didn't mean.../

Be he looked down and gulped, either for his own aching desire or 
Youji's very visible pink little entrance.

Very little...

"It's not that I'm scared or I don't want to but I was just gonna... I 
mean..."

/Shit./

With a deep sigh he gave up and lounged down against his companion, 
rubbing his neck with his nose. 

"We don't have any..." A long gulp.  In somewhat of a silent plea for 
forgiveness, he stroked them both.  "...lube."
  
And of all the stupid things that could have made him go anymore 
crimson... he just sighed and continued to pet Youji's naughty bit.

/So much for Omi being always prepared.../

***

Confusion, and then (rarest of them all) shock, and then Youji gave a  
breathy little laugh and caught Omi's hand to kiss his fingers, his  
palm.  
 
"So we don't have any lube, so what? We don't have to do anything  
like that. Lick me, fondle me, whatever you want to do. I'm your  
plaything." 
 
A smirk wavered over his lips, then promptly dissolved in a gasp,  
followed by a low moan.  
 
"And I'm a hentai, whose imagination gets away with him nearly all of  
the time."  
 
"So do what you want, just...please...don't stop..."  

***

"I won't..." Omi nodded then, his ever staunch determination returning... 
not to mention his lewdest smirk.  "Not ever, if you tell me to..."

Saying this, he scooted down the bed a bit further, and lifted one of 
his lover's legs, taking time, and a lot of it, to kiss his way down 
the liqueur-stained skin, feeling the muscles beneath wriggle and tense 
at his touch.

"I could go on like this for days." By then, he had kissed his way all 
to the juncture of Youji's thighs and kissed him there- his sex, the 
most oddly delicate and nameless places, the spot he wasn't willing to 
have just yet.

"I will fuck you blind..." and all the heat evaporated from his words as 
he sat up, all saccharine again.  "...just not right now."

For the second time that night, he jumped his lover, taking one nipple 
in his mouth and placing one hand in his navel, the other on his ass 
while he pumped their members together with the slightly remaining 
slickness of the alcohol. 

***

"Oh..." Youji hissed, tossing his head in response to the pleasurable 
 assault his lover had launched on his body.  "Oh...Omi..."

 He raised his hands above his head to clutch at the bedspread beneath 
 him, all the better to further the image he held in his mind of him 
 being at Omi's mercy.  

 He was his sex slave, his toy, and he was enjoying every breathless 
 second of it. 

 "I want you...I want you to...Do whatever you want to me.  Whenever 
 you want."

 "I..."

 "Oh...I..."

 Omi's hips sawed against his own just a little bit faster, and it was 
 just enough.  Youji groaned, white knuckling the quilt, his whole 
 body tensing like a wire.  

 "Omi!"

***

As for Omi, his mind swam with his lover's cries.  Sang with them, 
screamed with them.  

Damned if the other hotel patrons could hear them.

"Whatever?" A laugh.  "Whatever?"

"I need you, every part of you!" It was a battle to get the words out, 
a battle to speak anything but wordless howls of pleasure.  And yet the 
way Youji reacted to that... those words.  Otherwise simple they would 
be.  But not now.  "Every single piece to be mine! I need you like I 
need caffeine! I need you to help me breathe!  I need you to stop me 
from going mad and trying to fuck myself! I need you! You're mine I... I... 
MINE!"

He yelped helplessly as the pangs of his orgasm soared over him with an 
unexpected fury and he fainted into the sweet, damp form of his lover, 
panting helplessly.

And clutching him.  Asking for forgiveness for what he had just said.

The words hardly seemed real, and yet...  

***

Youji, as it happened, was rather drained, and more than a little 
stunned. He hadn't expected such ardor, nor had he expected to come 
so hard from being petted. It was the fiercest bout of lovemaking 
he'd had in a long time. 

But what Omi had done to him physically was nothing in comparison to 
what he'd said to him. 

He was so...desperate--fearful almost. No one had ever spoken to him 
like that, either in bed or out, and he never expected to hear the 
like from Omi.  He didn't really know what to make of his unexpected 
show of possessiveness, so he simply chose to comfort him instead.  

"It's okay.  It's okay," he crooned, releasing his hold on the 
blanket and wrapping his arms around Omi and rubbing his back until 
both of them had sufficiently caught their breath.  

And then he whispered, "I believe I should take a bath before I bury 
myself under these blankets.  Do you want to join me?"  

***

/It's not... it just can't be... how can it be OK...?/ Tossing about in his 
foggy brain like the lips of a tide.  Omi lay limp as a he could make 
himself against Youji, save for the lids of his eyes which hung open, 
unblinking and unseeing.

"It's okay.  It's okay..."

Over and over again, rolling like the lips of a tide.  It made him want 
to scream.  He was just still.  He could feel his own juices starting 
to rub down both of their bodies.  As if otherwise oblivious to the 
world, and the question it short asked of him, he ran his hands down 
and had a little taste, sucking the spicy white fluid from his fingers 
rather noisily.  It tasted like chocolate liqueur.  And salt.

Another lick.

No, not blood.  Not blood.

"Aa... alright..." he finally offered.  Sitting up alone snatched away what 
little of his breath he had regained.  His head fell into his hand.  
His feet fell to the floor.

But as soon as he stood, he toppled back to the sheets and they pitched 
under him.  /I'm not used to doing it on a water bed... I'm dizzy...  I'll 
be OK.../

That word again.

***

"Omi!"  
 
Youji gathered him up from the roiling mattress, and sat him in his  
lap instead, cradling his head against his shoulder.  
 
"Oi. You okay?"  
 
/Cause you're acting strange./ 
 
He feathered his fingers through Omi's hair, and across his cheek,  
down his arm. "You've gone a bit pale."  
 
/And you're scaring me. Again./  
 
*** 
 
"Mhhn... Youji-kun.  I'm alright.  Really.  I guess..." He sat up pressing 
a little kiss to his lover's neck, one so faint he could not help but 
wonder if it had even registered...

"...it's just low blood pressure.  I'll be fine."

/Which would explain why my cheeks just went cold, and my hands.../

/And the middle of my chest where I'm not supposed to feel anything./

He swayed a little as he tried getting to his feet again, and more or 
less out of time with the way the room seemed to be twirling around 
him.  A quick squeeze of his eyes and it was gone.  The still quarters 
had returned.  He spun very slowly on his ankle, clasping his hands 
behind his back and smiled on Youji's serious visage.  "Nothing a nice 
hot bath won't fix."

And then teetering over before him, he once more ran his fingers 
through the semen on his stomach, mopped his lips with them and kissed 
him as hard as he could.

***

And Youji returned the kiss just as passionately as it was given. He  
greedily lapped away all the traces of their mingled tastes and  
parted with a gentle lick of his lower lip. Kissed his nose and  
stood up, one arm slung around him.  
 
"Then come on, and we'll get cleaned up." 
 
/And that's all we're going to do. I'll not have you fainting on me  
because I was so inconsiderate./ 
 
He gave him a little hug when they entered the bathroom, then  
released him and flipped on the tap. "You should have told me you  
had low blood pressure. I would have taken it easier on you." 
 
/Wait a minute--you didn't react this way this morning. And you've  
never been in the habit of fainting, except for that one time./ 
 
/Why didn't you mention any of this before?/ 
 
/I can't help thinking that something else is wrong. I wish you'd  
tell me what it is./ 
 
With the water still running, its surface all foggy with steam, Youji  
climbed in, sighing in contentment. The water in the Koneko's  
bathroom taps never got this hot.  
 
"Ah...Bliss." 

***

"I don't go out often.  I haven't got any trouble fighting after all." 
Omi replied rather sleepily, kneeling at the edge of the tub and 
watching the curls of water vapor rise from the form of his lover.  

/Yeah, and if that doesn't suck.../

/Why, Youji-kun? Why can't I be alright inside with you? Why do I have 
to do dumb things? Why do I keep having to think I smell blood, or I 
taste it, or I feel it./

He dipped just his hands into the rising water, swirled them around and 
then splashed his face off.  Once he could peer out through his wet 
eyes, he found his companion gazing at his rather imploringly, and so 
he slid into the water, which had not yet risen too far past his 
stomach and began to toss it up over him like a blanket that kept 
sliding away, all the while, doing his best not to make much eye 
contact...

"You won't... go easy on me form now on, will you? I don't want that..."

/I think I'd rather faint./

/I'd rather hurt./

/But I do hurt and I might just faint./ 

***

/I knew it.  Something *is* wrong./

/Oh, but what could it be?  Why can't you talk to me, Omi-ai?/

The water eddied and parted as Youji crept towards Omi, then spun to 
a stop like dancers on a stage when he came to rest again.  He lifted 
one, heat-reddened hand from the comforting pool and stroked Omi's 
cheek, speaking in a velvety murmur as if he were trying to gentle a 
frightened rabbit.  

"Why don't you want me to go easy on you, baby?"  

***

"Well because..." He sighed and pushed the clouds away, turned them into 
steam.  And smiled.  "I LIKE it when you do me really hard.  It's worth 
getting a little light-headed... it's worth getting really light headed 
and besides..." 

He finished, creeping up close and stroking the shoulders beside him 
with his hot little fingers.  "It keeps me from getting cold even when 
I'm not in the tub with you."

His hands settled back in the water, just below it's surface, and with 
barely a glint of mischief in his eyes, he squirted Youji's in the eye 
with a perfectly aimed little spurt.  

***

Youji rubbed the water out of his scrunched up eye, blinking a few 
times at the impishly grinning boy before him.  

Then he splashed him.

/Okay, Omi.  If you want to play.../

"So you like it rough?"

/Then we'll play./

"Then I'll be rough, baby."

He crept a bit closer, leaning down for a kiss.

"Cause I don't want you to get cold."

With that he splashed him yet again, thoroughly drenching him.  And 
grinned.   

"Never. Mess. With. The. Master."

***

Omi sputtered and came up laughing, thrashing his hands against the 
water, aiming for no particular spot and probably... not hitting any of 
them.  "Oh, and what will happen to me if I do?"

He dodged a second volley of splashes.  "Will you try to touch me in 
all those naughty, grown up places?"

He dragged his fingers against the surface, sending up a wall of spray.  
"Will you try to put cucumbers where cucumbers ought not go?"

He ducked underwater, perhaps not the most delicate way to avoid the 
finally assault, but one which allowed him to get a mouthful of water 
which he expelled like a small fountain upon rising.  "Will you tie me 
up with velvet and tickle me to death?  Oh well, they all sound like 
fu-..."

Omi executed another one of his inopportune yawns.

***

"Oh, sure!  Give me ideas and then get all sleepy on me!" 

Youji snatched at Omi, and then again when the boy managed to duck 
his flailing arms.  The second time he had him, drew him close and 
gave him a smacking kiss.  Shrugged and laughed.

"I'll just file all those juicy ideas away for later, when we're both 
awake."  

Youji climbed out of the bath, and took down two of the thick towels 
in the narrow cupboard by the door.  One he held out to Omi, and the 
other he draped over his head, patting and scrunching his hair with 
it.  Dried the rest of himself off, and dropped the towel on the 
floor.  Then he reached for Omi again, and gave him another kiss, 
this one gentle and teasing.  

"Race you to the bed."

***

Captured, more or less dried and feeling quite himself at last, Omi 
stretched and bolted for the bed, finding himself on Youji's heels for 
the 
entire sprint, though they both ended up splashing onto the bed.  Not 
laughter, just the fond glitter passing between their eyes as they 
watched 
one another bobbing up and down as the liquid beneath them calmed.

"What a day." He sighed then, groping for the lightswitch, finding it, 
feeling it away.

The darkness that descended though was not total as his first insisted, 
at 
least until they sank into it fully, took to the moonlight and hung 
there.

He could see Youji just as clearly as before.  Clearer.  Sweeter.'

Feel him as he curled his arms around his waist.

"But I think I know what we'll be doing tomorrow..."

"...can't wait."

"G'night..."

He was asleep almost before he had time to wonder what had been batting 
his 
eyes closed so rapidly lately.

***

A wraith made flesh, as if under an enchantment.  One that might 
break at one wrong word.  That was how Omi felt in his arms.  Youji 
could see the dark spidery shadows of his lashes fluttering in sleep 
in the half-light, feel the slowing of his breathing with every 
passing second, and he cherished those seconds as if they might be 
the last ones they would ever have together.    

He crept a bit closer to him and kissed him gently, and then he too, 
closed his eyes.  

/Maybe it's weak.  Maybe I'm just a pathetic loser.  But I can't lose 
you, Omi./ 

/I can't even bear the thought of it./ 

/And I'm afraid that I might./

/I can't quite put my finger on it...What's wrong./  

/I just want to hold you like this.  I wanted to do this even more 
than sexing you up./  

/Can you believe it?/

He chuckled sleepily, and slid his hands over Omi's back.  

/Kudou Youji, Playboy...Is really a romantic at heart./  

***

Nagi had come back at some point during the Crawford and Schuldich 
bathing session, much rumpled than he was before. And rather 
disappointed too, for he rather hoped he'd encounter his guardian 
before he'd even reached his room. All the better to taunt him. 

But, the only sort of welcome he received was a snarl from the dog 
and a sleepy, giggling greeting from Savil. A mental one, of 
course. One which went unanswered. He just wasn't in the mood. 

Nagi slipped into his room--his traditionally Japanese room, if one 
didn't look too hard at the walls with their posters of various 
visual bands--stripping off his clothes off as he went. He pulled 
out a pair of blue pajamas all covered with glow-in-the-dark stars 
from a drawer in his walk-in closet, and slipped them on. Pulled the 
futon down from its shelf and made his bed. 

And then he flopped down on it. Winced a little from the throb down 
*there*, and sighed. He'd gotten what he'd wanted, Olivier had 
gotten what he wanted, and he doubted if he'd see Olivier again. 

In fact, he more-or-less knew that he wouldn't. It was the pattern 
of his relationships.

/Did you know I'm the slut of Terra, *father*?/ 

/I bet you don't. I have a feeling that Schuldich doesn't tell you 
half the things he learns./ 

/I bet if he did tell you about what I do, you still wouldn't care./

/I don't./

/And that's not what drives our relationship, does it?/

/It's pointless anyway, caring./ 

/It brings nothing but pain and sorrow. And who needs it?/

"Who fucking needs it?"

***

On the verge of delirium, Ran walked, half-drowsed, his hand still 
 wrapped around Ken's.   

 /I said I'd wait, and I will./

 /For if there's anything I'm really good at, it's waiting./  

 /Just ask Aya./

 Ran gave Ken's hand a weak, little squeeze.  

 /Kaze's the one of whom you're afraid, isn't it?/

 /He hurt you, I know it, even though you told me otherwise./

 /And it was all love...Is that what he told you?/

 /Well, he lied.  I know enough to know that much./  

 /And I'm just going to have to show you I guess.  As bumbling and as 
 inept as I will be at that undertaking./

 /I hope you don't come to regret this, taking me on.../

 /I hope.../

 Ran sighed heavily, and impatiently flipped his half of the covers 
 back from his sweltering body.  Then he collapsed back on his pillow, 
 and finally gave in to his exhaustion.  

 /...Ken.../

***

Savil sat cross-legged in the center of her bed, swirling the crystal 
goblet of water in her hand and watching the flame of her one candle 
dance ghostly through the sheaves of gossamer gauze that hung around 
her bed.  No crickets, not a nightingale about.  Just the sound of the 
wind as it troubled the two moons.

And then something came to trouble her a bit. ::Hey Saffie, you're 
still awake.::

::I got thirsty.  I just realized it...::  Another sip.

::How long were you listening in earlier, hmm?::

::Not long... ^_^;;;.::

::Aha! I knew it...::  The breaking sugar bubble sense of laughter not 
her own, nor even that condemned to the air.  ::I know I'm kinda over 
here but... you know, could I? Just a little?::

::Bradley's already jealous.  What could it hurt?::

::You.::

So he crept over on the tiptoes of his mind and settled into the 
gleaming nest of Saffie's, passing her on the way perhaps as she headed 
to whatever fortress of sheets he had made of his own.  Her first 
question, spoken from so deep inside.  ::Why do you hate Ranaiya?::

::Who?:: Even before that thought was fully formed, he found himself 
giving a mint green puff of recognition.  ::Ran and Aya! How witty.::

::Tehehe.::

::Anyway, have a look.  I don't hate him.  He's sooooo yummy inside, I 
mean, how could I?::

::I know.::

::I got some really good stuff from him awhile ago... this crazy dream 
about his sister.  He can't hear her.  They're on a bed but too far 
apart to touch each other... great chocolate coke puddle of pure sadness.  
Want?::

She did and took.  ::It's good! I kinda like him... but I don't feel bad 
about doing this.::

::Perfect Saffie, perfect...:: And then all drowsy and fading.  ::You're 
so soft inside.  You're too good to me...::

The candle went out.

"Of course," she told the darkness.  "G'night, Schu-baby."

She went to sleep with her water glass tucked under her hand like a 
teddybear.

***

/It's been a long day.../ Ken's inner voices both sighed.  

/Yeah, it has.../

/Would I go back and do it all over again? Just... because.  It hurt.  In 
places?/

His mind rolled this over and over, tried to break it, reshape it.  
Turn it into something new it could never really be./

/No, no I wouldn't./

He didn't exactly open his eyes then- just wanted to make himself 
believe.  But touch alone.  That Ran lay beside him.  That this smooth, 
dainty hand belonged to him.

/Ran... how could he have./

/No, have faith, don't look.  Don't be afraid./

/But its so soft./

/Maybe it just feels that way since yours is all rough./

/Maybe it's just because it's not what I expected./

He caressed it a bit, but something in the breathing beside him seemed 
to speak of the dreams Ran had fallen into by now.  What were they of? 
Dragons? Ladies? Aya? Dying?

It never once crossed his mind that they might be of him.

/I left the light on, didn't I?/

/So what?/

And he did open his eyes then, intending to handle the switch and leave 
things to the proper landscape of sleep.  But instead, he lifted the 
satin white palm to his lips and kissed it.

/I stopped shaking./

/I'll be alright.../

/Maybe not tomorrow but... I have my Ran.  Yeah, it'll be alright./

***

Clad in a pair of baggy, much-washed pair of red pajama bottoms, a  
recently bathed Crawford lay on his side in the bed he shared with  
Schuldich, but he wasn't asleep. Not quite. Merely lingering in  
that dusky, pre-dream state where one's mind trips and whirls.  
 
And that night, his was dancing between two points, shields at  
maximum, though very soon they would fall under the lull of slumber.  
 
/That kid. Nagi, Nagi, what am I going to do with you?/ 
 
/Granted, I'm not your father. I don't love you. But...I don't want  
to see you fall into ruin./ 
 
/And I know you're just that close to doing it, boy. I knew it when  
I picked you up in that orphanage./ 
 
/Your past, your probable future. I saw it all./ 
 
/Your thoughts...Well, I know them too. Schuldich's all too happy to  
tell me usually./ 
 
Crawford rolled over onto his other side then, and nestled against  
the pillow. Lay there for a few still moments, and then slitted his  
eyes open to feast them on his (naked) lover. The blanket hung low  
over his hips; Crawford could just make out the dip and swell of his  
groin. The unearthly light spilled in through the uncurtained  
windows, to stain his bare skin the same pearly teal as it was  
earlier. Making him remember.  
 
Making him smile, just a hint.  
 
Then his eyes dripped shut.  
 
/Ich liebe dich,/ he thought, just before his conscious mind shut  
down for the night.  
 
/You insane bastard.../ 

***

Fiona hung like a misplaced spring breeze in her quarters for many 
minutes after the speaking in the other room had ceased.

/Yeah I listened.  Yeah I heard everything./

/Yeah, this isn't my room./

And as she reached for her shoes then.  /Big fat whoop./

She couldn't make them fit anymore of course, just tucked them under 
her arm and took a moment to look over what had been offered her- the 
dark velvet sheets, the Victorian wash basin.  The fainting couch with 
no soused and horny Ysanne in it. Ah, what a sight indeed.

Exactly why she couldn't take it.  No, rather she waved goodbye and 
stole out into the living room.  Her best judgement had her walking to 
the door at once but NOOOOOO! She was Fiona! Just Fiona! Pushy, bad-
tempered nuisance Fiona!

What a ring that last one had to it! In thanks, she peeked into the 
bedroom and had a look at the two sleeping boys within (she seldom 
allowed herself to use the word "man" for anyone or anything).  How 
bizarrely content they seemed in their slumber.  As unwitting witness 
to their conversation, something told her that was far, far from the 
case.  Which reminded her of many other cases, even though, not being a 
herald, she didn't have any official ones.

She limped over to the glass-top desk, fished out a pen and stationary, 
and scribbled a quick note.

[Thanks for letting me rest my feet at your place, but I had to split 
of course.  You've got enough troubles without me.  Don't think I'm 
ungrateful but anyway, one more thing to say.  Feel free to get pissed 
at me for it, but you know, don't get mad at Savil.  She can't help 
what she is, unlike me an'... well, I don't know about you.  Just think 
about it.  You have to know yourself, after all.  Thanks! -Fiona Chan]

That done, she slipped the paper in among the myriad of documents 
already strewn on the clear surface, and started on the long walk back 
to her own "place".

But not after helping herself to a spoon and the port wine spreadable 
cheese from the mini fridge.

***

Farfarello dreamed.  It was the happiest day in the world.  Jesus was 
coming.  Everyone was glad because they would be saved.  Farfarello was 
glad because now he finally got to kill God.  What fun!

It rained knives and whips.  He left the whips and just took a knife.  
Licking the thing like a lollipop, he strode down the street.  People 
waved at him and he slit their throats.  What fun!

Finally, he made it to the platform where the savior was supposed to be 
appearing.  Not too many people had come yet, so there was still plenty 
of room to wiggle his way through the crowd.  And if the crowd wouldn't 
part, why, he slit their throats.  What fun!

Unfortunately, Jesus wasn't around yet.  Everyone was still waiting.  
But there were still two people on the platform.  Well, he could kill 
them in the mean time.  If they weren't Saffie and Schuldich too!  What 
fun!

Saffie had on Schuldich's clothes and Schuldich Saffie's.  He looked 
very good in a sailor suit.  The dream digressed at this point to 
things perverse and bloody.  Oooh! What fun!

"I don't believe in God." Schuldich said plainly as he plucked the 
razors from his skin.

"But you do!" Saffie sighed, planting her hands on her hips.  Then out 
of nowhere, a newspaper from July, 22, 1979 appeared in her hand.  And 
she said unto him with it, "No no! Bad doggie!"

And then he dreamed of chasing cars...

***

Omi awoke in the middle of his night, which fell, among the realm of 
other mortals, as the very first creeping movements of dawn, when the 
sky had burned a deepest azure without the water of the moon.  The 
crickets had silenced themselves and the birds begun to creep awake.

But none he knew, and none of steel.

He shivered a little, flexing his eyelids in the darkness as if doing 
so might change his vision back to that of his own room.

Where was he anyway?

The love hotel with Youji...

Youji who lay twined around him, fast asleep and snoring... very 
faintly.

Still, he reached out one hand and felt up the face that lay so close 
to his own- the oddly luminous gold hair gone faintly aqua where the 
stars were fading.

/Are you fading too? You look like it... I can hardly see you... I can 
hardly feel you.../

Shivering, he shrank down further under the covers and hunched against 
the breathing body beside him.  Hid under the blankets.

Waited.

/But what for?/

In the end, he nodded off again.

***

Morning came to Terra with the vapors of an indigo and blooming 
rainstorm that had descended before the dawn and the cried of the hosts 
of killdeer who sang it away.  The sun was shining over the wet body of 
the world, caught in puddles in the grand hall, clear as crystal in 
Savil's room, where it caught upon her goblet and tickled her eyes 
before her alarm clock even had a chance to go off.

/Hmm... I'm up early.../  A quick series of mind-touches revealed her to be 
the only one awake in the general vicinity.  /Very early! Should I get 
dressed or get breakfast ready? Hmm...?/

Her stomach growled.  /Breakfast./  So she reached for the phone, 
dialed up room-service and ordered a rather lengthy list of ingredients 
to be sent up as she conjured her kimono from her closet- a grand 
thing, slightly too large for her.  Blue and graced with the purple and 
red image of a firebird that seemed to be wrapped about her little 
feet.  Once hidden within its folds, she pulled her hair up in a bun 
beneath a tiny cap (except for two loose strands that dangled down like 
Aya's eartails and made her giggle at the thought) and splashed her 
face off with water from the pitcher on her nightstand.

"Bonjour, Farfie, me petit chen!" She caroled to the chap curled up in 
her doorstep.

"Mnnnnnnnnn God will hurt."

"Farfie! Chen mal!" 

"Woof woof!" he corrected and bounded after her to the door, which she 
opened just as the delivery boy was about to knock, and offered him a 
few lira in apology for surprising him, although chances were, he had 
never seen lira before in his life.  She was obliged to carry the tray 
balanced on one shoulder all the way to the kitchen, since she didn't 
trust her dog with it one bit.  Oh, he was always so hyper in the 
morning.  But no matter.  Everything made it unharmed into the dining 
room, where she pulled back the seven layers of gauze that served as 
curtains and threw open the windows to let the dewy early hour seep 
into everything within.  A little praying mantis rode in on one of the 
panes though, and she found herself obliged to rescue it before the 
sniffing Farfarello decided it was a dog biscuit. 

But why had Crawford allowed them a kitchen? Especially when such a 
thing would doubtless make them seem pedestrian and dull... well, about 
as pedestrian and dull as they could be.  He had needed no convincing 
on the matter.  After all, Bradley happened to think the room service 
fois gras tasted like... err... never mind what he thought it tasted like.  
The analogy was quite unappetizing.  So, part of the otherwise ample 
dining room now stood occupied by a large cupboard of inlaid mahogany 
that opened up revealing a miniature version of a classy stainless 
steal culinary installation which Saffie began to tweak and decorate 
with copper pots while her puppy hung about her legs, panting and 
yipping most fondly.

"No, no people food for you yet." She informed him, even while taking a 
moment to pat his head.  Then jiggling the dish of rice.  "And this 
isn't any good uncooked.  But if you're a good boy and set the table 
for me, I'll give you a tea biscuit. Huh? Would you like a tea biscuit, 
Farfie?"    

The dog nodded enthusiastically, before finally getting to his feet and 
heading for the adjacent cabinet where the various garbs for the table 
happened to be stored.  He finished with truly phenomenal speed and was 
savoring his reward when someone rapped upon the door.

Not having expected anyone else, Saffie scowled and quite dashed out to 
the living room, hoping no one would be prematurely awakened by the 
unexpected noise.  The courier gave her a long, deep bow and held out a 
lucite cube filled with many somethings all wrapped in gold and jewel 
tone foil.  "Package for Herald Savil."

"Oh yes, that's me... wow! Domo arigatou!" More lira flying out the door 
as she carted her prize back inside and plunked it in the middle of the 
table, only to turn around and find her dog whimpering at the braising 
pan.  "No, you don't want any of that until its cooked.  Didn't I just 
give you a treat?"

"Arf arf! Owhooooooooa!"

She sighed and spied the coffee French press was starting to slow up a 
bit at last, signaling the coffee was almost ready.  A moment rooting 
in among her spices for the aspirin: /Let's see, Bradley will need 
some, and Nagi... but Nagi will get suspicious seeing some at his place 
so... well, I'll just put some out for everyone./ 

This done, she rang the little silver bell from its stand beside the 
dining room doors.  "Bonjour tout le monde! Who wants candy from Su-
dono?"

***

The covers had ended up back over Ran at some point in the middle of  
the night, as he found upon awaking. How they had gotten there, he  
had no idea. All he knew was that he was no longer feverish, that he  
needed a shower, and (according the mirror) he looked like hell.  
 
And yet, for the first time in a long time, he felt like Luck had  
smiled upon him.  
 
In the tossing and turning which comes with sleep, their hands had  
slipped free of each other; the hand he'd held upon dropping off was  
now curled around the edge of the blanket. But Ken had moved closer  
to him in sleep, as if magnetically drawn. It was all Ran could do  
not to touch him.  
 
It was the first time they'd slept together, but it wasn't the first  
time he'd seen him asleep. He'd been treated to that sight many  
times, and every time, he couldn't help but drink it in. Tanned  
cheeks flushed slightly, and dark hair wildly tousled across the  
pillow, as if the wind had touched him while he drowsed. Lips softly  
parted, as if he were awaiting a kiss.  
 
/Too bad it tastes like something crawled into my mouth last night  
and died./ 
 
Ran swept a hand through his sweat-darkened locks and climbed out of  
bed as carefully as he could. Gathered up his clothes and padded  
over to the bathroom for a quick shower.  
 
Ten minutes later, he reemerged, wincing over the squeaking door, and  
slipped into the living room with a glance back at his slumbering  
lover. He found the door to the herald's room still shut, and since  
it was, he kept his movements quiet as he crossed over to the phone  
and rang for room service.  

***

It was always the same, every morning after he'd had sex with  
Schuldich: Pain. Intense, screaming, nails-on-the-chalkboard pain.  
 
And would Schuldich be apologetic and solicitous if he woke him and  
told him his plight? Yeah, sure. Right. 
 
So Crawford left him there, a vivid splash of red and cream across  
the black satin, and, grabbing his red flannel robe off the hook  
behind the bedroom door, somehow managed to drag himself down the  
hall.  
 
And found himself once more in the presence of his twisted little  
family, sans spouse.  
 
His son, clad still in his pajamas, was currently shooting odd,  
rather hateful looks at his step-daughter and popping something which  
closely resembled candy. She was still standing by the dining room's  
doors, playing hostess, all politeness and charm.  
 
Just like her mother.  
 
He gave her an awkward pat on the arm and staggered to a chair (after  
kicking the dog when he tried to bite his bare feet). Sat down with  
a grimace, and put his head in one hand.  
 
And when the pounding simmered down to a tapping, he cracked his lids  
open, and saw it. His salvation.  
 
Three, crisp white tablets of aspirin lay in the middle of his gold- 
rimmed, dark blue porcelain plate.  
 
Crawford smiled. 
 
"What a clever girl you are, Savil darling."  
 
*** 
 
Savil merely turned to him and grinned.  Not her best sadistic grin.  
No, a soft, quiet grin for someone who needed a soft, quiet breakfast.

And wasn't going to be getting it, but anyway...

In sympathy, since she had chanced a sample of the general ruckus of 
pain her stepfather was currently experiencing, she left her pans for a 
moment to rub his neck for him.  An excursion with invariable ended 
with, "Didn't I just tell you no people food, Farfie?" And an 
apologetic thought for being loud about it sent special for Bradley.

"Please help yourself to the chocolate bars.  Let's see, there's milk, 
dark, mint, peanut, almond honey..." Speaking of which, she relocated one 
to her own plate.  "Crispie, raspberry and... Weiss."

She hadn't been expecting a chuckle and didn't get one.  Old joke.  
Just a mental snicker from the master bedroom, leaning into the hall 
and fading into a wordless string of toasty good morning considerations 
as Schuldich appeared at the door, wearing his robe that was meant to 
be a match for her own- emerald green with a blue and chestnut stag 
hawk.  He stretched across the entire frame, quite obscuring the view 
of the living room.

::You forgot to tie your kimono again.::

::Oh... so I did.  Thanks!::

Some lacing noises in the ensuing silence.  

::Don't mention it.:: And then, going on once again as if nothing had 
happened... "Otherwise, this morning's menu consists of saffron risotto, 
mushroom and radish salad with strawberry vinaigrette which I made, 
it's not the hotel's, don't worry annnnnnd..." a moment to peek in the 
oven.  "Warm brie on melbatoasts basted with sage oil."

As she spoke, her brother, now properly robed, slid over beside her and 
started to riffle through her yellow hair where it had fallen loose- 
quite a thing to do considering what an awful mess his was.  ::It's not 
even close.:: he thought, holding a view strands in line with his view 
of the pan of risotto.

Speaking of dumb jokes, they both chuckled at this one, unheard as it 
remained. 
 
***

/Exhibitionist,/ Crawford thought amidst their laughter, shooting 
 Schuldich a bleak look as he sipped at his water.  

 /Whether I like it or not is beside the point../

 A ribbon of cackling fluttered through his mind, and, irritated and 
 too sick to make a suitably cutting reply, Crawford threw up his 
 shields, and set about ignoring his lover's persistent mental hails.  

 Two healthy spoonfuls of risotto landed on his plate, gooey, bland 
 food being the only sort of thing he could stomach.  

 /Well, that and maybe some chocolate./  He reached for a dark 
 chocolate bar, laying it alongside his plate and passing the risotto 
 down to Nagi.  

 "I don't want any of that," Nagi said, reaching for the French press 
 and pouring himself a cup.  "The candy will do."

 He unwrapped one of the mint chocolate bars on his plate and began to 
 eat it in such a way that there was no doubt as to what he was 
 imagining it was.  Much to Crawford's disgust. 

 "The candy will not do.  You will eat the risotto, and the salad, and 
 the damned melbatoast."  

 "Or what?"

 "Or nothing.  Because you'll be home every single day, every single 
 night for a week." 

 "That's what you think."

 "That's what I know.  You broke the rules last night."

 "So?"

 "So, you're going to be punished."  

 "I don't care." 

 There was a pause, and Brad looked over at him, half-squinting with 
 his nearsightedness.  

 "Good.  Then you won't mind going back to your room after 
 breakfast."  

 Relative silence fell over the table, and then, in a hair-raising 
 burst of energy, every light in the suite started strobing, keeping 
 time with the sound of glass breaking from the living room beyond.  

 And just as quickly as it had started, the phenomena stopped.  Nagi 
 took up his cup of coffee and grabbed the candy bars from his plate.  

 "No, I won't mind...*Father*."  

***

Saffie sighed and pulled a sticky note out of the bottom drawer of 
utensils, one which she wrote with a fountain pen that her dog fetched 
her: "Call window replacement people.  RE: Nagi" before affixing it to 
the heap of bills that always seemed to collect among her cookbooks.  
With that, she marched over to said disturbance's chair, hand's 
dangling before her rather plaintively, rather than on her hips, where 
most cooks would have doubtlessly landed them.

Schuldich, having observed Bradley's reluctance to laugh along and his 
squinting, passed him his glasses without a word or signal, and flopped 
down in his own chair, from which he snatched up a tiny bit of salad, a 
tiny bit of risotto and five dripping melbatoasts.  Which was a lot for 
him.  /Here I am, brother of girl with the memories of a dozen French 
chefs and I eat like a bird.  It's sick really./ 

"Oh, Nagi-chan," his sister began in a voice which was soft, but not to 
soft.  Not cloying, but downright herald...-y.  "Can't you at least eat a 
little bit for me?"

::After all, I didn't rat you out last night.::

::HEY!:: a voice intruded only on her thoughts.  ::If he leaves it 
alone...::

::All the more brie for us ^_^V.::

::We're usurpers.::

"Please Nagi?"

***

Crawford, now hunched listlessly over the remains of his risotto, had  
more or less given up.  
 
/Why did I get involved with this lot?/ 
 
/Oh, I remember. I wanted to take over the world, and I had a vision- 
-er, visions--that they could help me achieve that goal. Silly me./ 
 
He reached for his coffee, and adjusted his glasses.  
 
/Of course, I would have picked up Schuldich, visions or no. I  
would've been insane to ignore him./ 
 
Amused, he smiled behind his cup.  
 
/Sex on two legs and a will as strong as mine./ 
 
Brad shot him a sidelong look. /Oh, I do love a challenge./ 
 
He shifted his attention to the boy seated at the other end of the  
table. /And speaking of challenges.../ 
 
Nagi, who was at that moment, studying the plate of warm, cheesy  
melbatoast, never noticed his guardian's rapt scrutiny.  
 
He tilted his head, as if he were about to relent, then straightened  
up and fixed her with a calculating look.  
 
"No, Savil, I can't. And I won't." 
 
He took another sip of his coffee. "And that ridiculous herald act  
of yours won't work on me."  
 
/I'm not as weak as you think, Savil./ 
 
*** 
 
::You're just as hopeless as the rest of us.:: Savil and Schuldich 
thought in Bradley's general direction.  As for the younger of the two 
telepaths, she rather sighed and flopped down in her own chair, leaving 
Nagi be as it were.

She also took the liberty of relocating the better half of the rice 
meant for him to the plate that which invariably ended up on the floor 
following a "Here boy! Dinner time." As it did, presently.  Not to 
mention her disturbingly bright, "Please enjoy the coffee then."

Spoken with true honesty.  Not even a rouse, a hint of sarcasm.  The 
sad fact was, she had gotten used to the little Japanese boy's 
occasional tantrums and they had become one of the many things that no 
longer struck her as, well, offensive.

/He's just Nagi.  Bradley's just a pervert.  The dog is just a dog.../

::Maybe we're the nihilists.:: her brother suggested.

::I wouldn't go that far.::

"Melbatoast?"

"Of course."

::Ah, I see, besides, if we're the nihilists...::

::Then what would Nagi-chan be?::

"Oh, you've got garlic in these."

"Just a smidge."

"Aha..."

::Bradley's thinking naughty thoughts about you.::

::I guess I was wrong about thinking BOTH moons turned blue last 
night.::

::And about wanting to take over the world.::

::That nonsense again...::

Saffie helped herself to the pinkish swirls on the very bottom of the 
dish which had contained the salad while Schuldich took forever to suck 
on his fork following a bite of risotto.  "Well," he began, "Since 
we're all here, I have a proposal to make..." Although he ended up 
laughing a bit as the salad bowl, not quite empty, was returned to him 
without verbal request.

***

Crawford eyed them both somewhat suspiciously; Nagi merely poured  
himself another cup and tossed his empty candy wrappers under the  
table, hoping Farfarello would eat one or all and choke.  
 
So, it was Brad who gave Schuldich a prompt as he helped himself to  
another helping of risotto.  
 
"And just what sort of scheme have you come up with now?"  
 
*** 

"You sound as if we're in some tres ridiculament Saturday morning 
cartoon where the villain comes up with a dastardly plan every week."  
Saffie sighed.

"It's a bit part," her brother yawned, before leaning back and burying 
his hands in the back of his mane.  "but I relish it." He then reached 
into the center of the table then, and snagged one of the white 
chocolate bars, which he snapped loudly on the table, and started to 
pick pieces out of like teenage virago dissecting a lover's box of 
offerings, as if one chunk might be better than another.  

Speaking of candy, Farfarello neglected his risotto for the time being 
and began sniffing at the husks of Nagi's.

"Anyway, chances are that Ken, out little inheritruese will eventually 
vacate The Planet in favor of Valdemar.  Well, we've spent the past few 
months lounging about doing nothing but the piano and dishes on 
occasion." ::Not to mention each other, Bradley.::

Savil shot a protective glance at her good braising pan which the hotel 
staff was, under no circumstances allowed to handle any longer.  

"So I propose, when he packs up his things and leaves, we do likewise 
and follow him.  After all, where goes one cat, others are bound to 
follow."

***

/Complaining, Schuldich?/  
 
Crawford leaned back in his chair and extracted the pack of  
cigarettes he kept in the pocket of his robe, taking one out and  
lighting it. Blew rings and considered Schuldich's proposal.  
 
/A move, hm?/ 
 
/I guess we have been gathering dust around here.../ 
 
/And, of course, there's always the prospect of annoying Ken and his  
sweet little Aya./ 
 
He tapped his cigarette on the rim of his dish, scattering ash onto  
the table top.  
 
/Might even get to do a bit of...spying./ 
 
/And yes, Schuldich, I am a pervert./ 
 
/Five years together, and you're just now figuring that out?/ 
 
Crawford finished off his coffee, glancing from Savil to Schuldich. 
 
"All right," he said, setting the cup in the middle of his  
plate. "Where they go, we will follow."  
 
*** 
 
Saffie applauded and smiled from ear to ear.  "KenKen!" She called, 
just to be weird and pun-ful.  "Now I won't have to go back alone!"

"Oh, like we would let you rot out there in the boonies by yourself." 
Her brother rejected with a laugh.  "Though speaking of rotting..."

With a little bow, she rose from the table and scampered off to her 
room, dancing over the shards of glass as if they were but lily pads 
and she a fae thing skipping over water. 

Her brother shook his head, and continued, mouth half full of 
melbatoast, "Though spying sounds perfectly delightful as well.  Where 
will dwelling on our reasoning get us? We're going.  It'll be..." then 
leaning over to Bradley with a steamy grin behind his mug.  "...fun."

In the mean time as mother and father sat sizing one another up, the 
dog managed to bat one of the candy wrappers out from under the table, 
whereupon he chased it, pouncing on the thing like a cat.  Finding 
himself well enough left to his own devices, he hissed to the scrap of 
wrapper, "God will hurt, God will die.  God will get a fiery hot cock 
up his ass."

"Oh make up your mind!" Schuldich sighed.

Nagi looked more ill than usual.  
 
::Don't act like you weren't thinking the same thing.:: The elder 
telepath informed him just as the younger came traipsing back into the 
room, herald uniform flying rather madly about as she turned a 
somersault, landing just before he brother's chair.  

A few glances feel between them, hinting at their tacit, syrup-less 
goodbyes.  Though she turned, and rather spoke to Crawford.  "I might 
be rather late again to-night, even though I am taking the express 
between here and Antiterra.  There's something I have to do before I 
leave Japan..."

No explanation followed, just am image of a silver-haired man with 
gleaming malachite eyes who waltzed through his mind with a sword and 
the head of a beautiful woman.   

"But I'll be back in time to walk the dog!"  This said, and before he 
had a chance to otherwise react with words, she kissed him on the 
cheek...

::Oh come now, she won't be out after midnight.::

Kissed Nagi on the temple.

::She can take care of herself.  She's a herald, she's more mature than 
out bratty little telekinetic.  I'm sure she's charmed by how 
protective you can be.::

::I am!::

And finally, her brother, though she reached for his cheek as well, and 
he turned at the last moment to catch her lips.

::Besides, she's MY sister.  You honestly think saying 'no' will do any 
good?:: 

And ran out after scratching her dog behind the ears, calling, "Ja 
minna!" 

She just passed the most recent clean up crew as they started to file 
in after the shattered windows, nearly knocked one of them over in 
fact, though he might have been new and so already facing being 
unaccustomed to their interesting domestic disputes.

"We had a bit of a disagreement over curfew." She told him with a shrug 
before he even opened his mouth to ask, and with that, went out into 
the hallway, singing all the while.

That summer fields grew high 
With foxglove stalks and ivy. 
Wild apple blossoms everywhere. 
Emerald green 
Like none I have seen 
Apart from dreams 
That escape me. 
There was no girl as warm as you. 

How I've learned to please, 
To doubt myself in need, 
You'll never, 
You'll never know.

***

/She is a darling.../

To the sound of glass crunching under the feet of the hotel's 
bewildered maintenance who whistled, and cursed in disbelief when he 
entered the living room, Brad made his departure, strolling around 
the table and dragging his son out of his seat before the boy could 
make his escape.  

Who nearly jumped 10 feet when Crawford came sweeping around the 
corner, cup in one hand and Nagi's arm in the other.  He spluttered, 
red as a beet under that smirking, haughty gaze, and immediately fell 
to work cleaning up the remains of the French doors.  Silently.

"That's a good boy."

Crawford then left him to his own devices, his lover to the tending 
of Farfarello, and continued his journey, Nagi struggling and 
straining at his hold the whole way.

"Let me go."

"You've already demanded that of me, Nagi.  I think it's clear I'm 
not going to do it, so shut the hell up."

He set his cup down on the little occasional table which stood 
between Nagi's room and the spare, and opened the door, shoving him 
inside. 

"You will stay in this room all day.  I will let you out for meals.  
Otherwise...You can accept it or not.  I don't care.  Destroy the 
room and all you own or start packing it up.  Whichever way you want 
it."

Nagi simply stared at him, arms folded across his chest, as if he'd 
just told him they were going on another mission.  No reaction.  

"It doesn't matter if I don't want to leave, does it?"

Crawford lounged against the doorframe, and blew the last smoke ring 
left in his cigarette, before tossing it to the carpet and grinding 
it out.  

"No, it doesn't."

Nagi looked away from him, to the wall at Mana's perfectly made-up 
face.  "I didn't think it did."

A tense silence fell, one which begged to be filled.  But one which 
wasn't, save for the click and snap of the door being locked.  

Nagi stood there gazing at Mana for a few seconds longer, then turned 
away and walked over to his closet.  Ran his hand over the row of 
shirts and jackets on the upper rack.    

"So I guess I'll become the whore of Valdemar now."  

***

"Mmm... Kaze..." Ken sighed in his sleep, but even there, crushed beneath 
his own fancies and unconscious desires, something hit him as wrong.  
Terribly wrong.  /Ohmigod! Ran!/

Sleeping pills or not, his eyes flew open.  

The bed beside him proved empty.  The painful alterness of shocked 
apology faded with the last of his nervous heartbeats and his eyes 
began to fall shut, since no clock, and no irked hands existed to 
protest.  He could hear the shower dripping, feel his skin cooling.  A 
bird with a downy and yet haunting call had taken to singing outside, 
followed by a chorus of bubbling house finches.  Ghosts in broad 
daylight... it had to be.

Speaking of ghosts, he leaned over and let his body pool in the warmth 
his beloved had left behind, slightly damp or not.

/Even smells like him.../ He kissed the pillow.  /Tastes like him.  My 
bed and its all Ran flavored./

/.../

He sat up, blinking and shaking his head.  

/You weirdo!/

With a still rather sleep-delirious smirk, he threw himself down in 
Ran's spot for a few more minutes.  But then there came an all too 
familiar knock at the door.

/Breakfast... I... Ran ordered breakfast?/

With that, Ken vaulted out of bed... and regretted it at once since the 
bruise from Kagome's attack had rather begun to ache during the night... 
but otherwise, took a moment to comb his hair while gazing in the 
mirror, pulled his pajama bottoms up to an acceptable level and finally 
crept out to the living room.

***

The waiter rolled the laden cart to the center of the room, but left  
at a word from Ran before he'd gotten around to uncovering the  
dishes. Ran fussed over the jumble of silver domes, with the blue  
rose splattered china teapot until the he had left, and then he  
turned around and fixed his lover with a look full of wistful  
longing.  
 
"Ohayo, Ken." 
 
He stepped back and pulled one of the chairs out, gesturing for him  
to have a seat.  
 
"I hope you are hungry. I...didn't know what you might want for  
breakfast, so..." 
 
He lifted the covers one by one, revealing in turn, a bowl of steamed  
white rice; a serving dish of omelets; two bowls of miso; and...a  
stack of blueberry pancakes. Upon uncovering this last, Ran offered  
Ken a shy, apologetic smile.  
 
"I've never had blueberry pancakes."  
 
*** 

"Really?" Ken blinked, and then he couldn't help himself.  He laughed a 
little.  Just because it was so impossibly cute the way he said it.  
Just because Ran was impossibly cute.  "I would have made you some 
sometime if you'd asked I mean..."

Dead silence as they remembered the last time he'd tried to make 
anything that required flipping.

"On second thought, I think if you're going to have blueberry pancakes 
for the first time, this is the place.  But I'm warning you, you'll be 
spoiled."

And then he didn't take his seat just yet, but spared a moment to take 
his lover softly by the shoulders and kiss his forehead once again.  
"Ohayo, Ran.  Hey... you're fever's gone.  You feel alright now?" Asked 
as he sat down, tracing one finger over the side of face.

"You look a lot better."

*** 

One touch and his heart started racing. Nearly broke. He looked  
so...Well, huggable. Ran felt silly even thinking the word, but it  
was true.  
 
"Aa, I feel better," he answered as he took a seat across from  
Ken. "How do you feel?" 
 
/Feels odd, just asking that of him. But I never bothered with  
that. Not with anyone./ 
 
/I was afraid of getting too close./  
 
/It feels rather odd to be indulging like this./ 
 
/I've lived on the fly for so long, even before I joined Weiss./ 
 
/No possessions, no attachments./  
 
"Itadakimasu." 
 
Ran glanced up at Ken as he speared his first ever bite of pancakes  
with the first fork he'd ever held.  
 
/Well, not a whole lot of attachments./ 
 
It was tart and sweet and soft enough to spoil a person: Ken hadn't  
lied. The taste of the fluffy stack had definitely caught his  
fancy. The fork, however, ended up on the table again in favor of  
the extra set of chopsticks he'd requested. It was just too  
unwieldy.  
 
Another pinched bite, and Ran glanced up at Ken again.  
 
"What are your plans for today?" 
 
*** 
 
"I'm real good actually.  Man, I haven't slept like that since..." a dark 
little laugh.  "Since the night before last actually." /Thinking of 
you./

And the he hung back in his chair for a few moments.  Watched.  He'd 
never in his life expected to come across anyone who possessed the 
sheer dexterous delicacy required to eat pancakes with chopsticks.  Not 
that Ran had seemed awkward with the fork.  On the contrary, he held 
the bit of metal like a wand.  Oh but with the chopsticks.  He'd seen 
Geishas who'd have been shamed by that grace.  He didn't even drip any 
syrup.  

And most astounding thing of all... he looked... he looked.

He just looked happy there.  With such a little thing as pancakes.  
Ken, seeing this, tasted them himself as for the first time, tried to 
pick the flavors and the sensations apart.  Tried to just enjoy them, 
in all ignorance of their doubtlessly vast calories.  Tried to suck the 
butter out and...

Ran had stopped eating and was looking at him in a decidedly plaintive 
fashion.

"Well," He cleared his throat and reached for an omelet, "there's a lot 
of stuff we could do, but only if you want of course.  For starters, 
we're both running low on cloths... obviously.  I ah... woulda had more 
sent up but I felt bad picking things out for you and I... don't think 
you want to see me in my old ones.  It's pretty embarrassing, the way I 
used to dress." 

A slight pause and a bite of said omelet, which was airy and not at all 
soupy with just a hint of soy sauce between its layers.  "I guess you 
heard about the villa... there's one here too, and I wanted to show it 
too you.  I... don't know how to explain what a Hyacinth Villa is 
otherwise.  But if you still don't feel up to it, I got no objection to 
sunning on the deck with you all day."

***     
 
/Sunning on the deck all day?/

 His mind leapt onto that track and roared away, picturing Ken half-
 dressed and bathed in sunlight, then he pictured him nude and bathed 
 in sunlight and nearly choked on his tea.  He cleared his throat, but 
 his voice still came out rough.  

 "I'm not one for sunbathing.  Moonbathing perhaps..."  He smiled at 
 him a little, then ducked his head a touch timidly.  

 "I wouldn't mind buying some new clothes.  It wouldn't do for me to 
 walk about in what I have on every day."  

 He sipped at his tea again.  /And one day, hopefully, I'll get to 
 watch while you burn every article of clothing that bastard made you 
 wear./

 "And I wouldn't mind seeing the Villa."  

 Ran took another bite of his pancakes, chewing it thoughtfully.  

 "But what do you mean by 'there's one here too'?  Isn't your 
 new...property (home somehow didn't seem right) here, in Terra?"

***

/Moonbathing... with... Ran?/

Ken's thoughts too fluttered away to a series of dreamy, vaguely 
sensual images.  He and Ran walking hand and hand through the veils of 
ginko and hawthorn.  Ran for one reason or another sprawled shirtless 
on the shore of one of the small ponds.  The same shirtless Ran 
snuggling up to him and watching for fallen stars.

/I even know just the place./

Though stars never seemed inclined to fall through the aurora.  

Suddenly, he prayed for darkness to come early.  But in the mean time...

"Ah, there's a Hyacinth Villa in every Terran annex.  Mine happens to 
be in Valdemar.  They're what the cities are built around."  A sample 
of the rice... oh, it was drenched in jasmine.  Wonderful.  "Valdemar's 
the capital.  It's... really far away." He sighed, had a little tea 
himself.  "Actually, I ah... I should probably go there.  Eventually... 
soon.  Since no one's been minding this Villa."  He put down his fork 
at this and reached over, taking his beloved's hand.

"But when you're ready, sweetheart.  It's actually much quieter there 
though, but there's no rush."

"No rush at all."

***          

/Ah, you're holding my hand. I rather like it when you do that./ 
 
/And I wonder what you were thinking about just then? You looked as  
if you were...fantasizing.../ 
 
Ran smiled across the table at Ken, and curled his hand around his  
lover's.  
 
"Quiet? Just you and me in a villa and it'll be quiet?" He gave his  
hand a squeeze. "Dilapidated or not, being able to live there sounds  
like a dream." 
 
/Even if was Kaze's./ 
 
/Probably bad memories around every corner./ 
 
/Well, I'll just have to work on getting you some good ones to cancel  
them out./ 
 
Ran lifted Ken's hand to his lips, and dusted his knuckles with  
kisses. "We will go whenever *you* want. Okay?"  
 
He flipped his hand over and did the same to his palm.  
 
"Because as you said, there's no rush at all."  
 
*** 
 
Ken found himself starting to flush a little about his ears.  /What's 
gotten into you Ran, you're so romantic all of a sudden.../

/And I know it's not the fever so.../

/I guess I'm.../  And then he uncurled his fingers and traced them over 
those oh so amiable lips.  /...tickled./  "Well, if you don't mind, I'd 
kinda like to go back tomorrow, even if we can take our time.  It's 
just... well, I'd kinda like to see you... out in the country.  You 
know, fresh air, no one around for the most part..."

/No Manx, no Birman, no Kritiker hounds on our heels./

/No raving fangirls./

/No pissy Youji, no perfectionist Omi./

He sighed, rather unintentionally at this last, and seeming the shame 
that crept into Ran's face, he made it up to him with another long 
caress, whether or not this damned his omelet to cool.

"Just you, me and the sunflowers..."

Another remembrance then.  "Well, and my friend Carly.  If you don't 
mind.  She says she's anxious to meet you.  But she can wait."  A 
little wink.

/She's been waiting for me three years now.../
 
***

Ran was delighted over having scored a point in his favor with Ken 
(not too mention filing away how much Ken seemed to like having his 
hands kissed), but his good cheer took a sudden hard downturn when 
Ken mentioned Carly.  

Not that he knew who Carly was, because he didn't.  However, Carly 
was a female--yet another female--and here Ken was describing her as 
a friend, and with a fond sort of look at that.  

No, Ran was not pleased one bit.  In fact, he was down right jealous, 
which wasn't an emotion he was very used to.  Not since Ken had met 
Yuriko that is.  

Half-heartedly he prodded his pancakes and took another bite, then 
lay his chopsticks aside and looked back over at Ken, blushing a bit 
redder now than he had been before.  

"Who is Carly," he asked, taking pains to keep his voice calm and 
even.  "Is she another herald?"  

***

"Carly is..." Ken began quite sure of himself, only to falter into just 
about every stalling word known to man.  He'd never really thought 
about it before... he wondered if anyone had.  At all.  Since Carly had 
existed.  

Ran's sudden greenish electric click didn't help matters.

With a gaping sigh, he leaned back and told the truth.  "Carly is a 
lost soul.  She's lived on Terra all her life, never seen the outside..." 
Another heavy exhalation and he dropped his fork, laying he second hand 
to the warm cheeks of his lover.  Smiling playfully.

"She's not THAT kind of friend.  She just... is.  She's Carly.  She's 
barely a person, more like a concept." But turning away a bit, still 
cradling the blush.  /She did... try to get me away from him, she was the 
only one./  "I have her letter, if you want to see it.  And besides... 
she's old enough to be my mom."

/Like I would ever give you up for anyone, Ran.  Especially a girl.  
Have a little faith... please?/   

***

"Old enough to be your mom..."

"I...Oh..."

Now his cheeks were really aflame, and he felt like an utter fool. 
Sheepishly, Ran took Ken's hand in his own again. 

/Lucky./

"I clearly misunderstood, and I...became a little jealous. I'm 
sorry." 

/Maybe I'm still a bit unsure about all this./

/Okay, I AM a little unsure about all this./ 

"And I don't want to see her letter, thank you. I don't want to 
intrude on your privacy like that." 

"And...If you're going to trust me, then I have to trust you."

Ran grazed the back of Ken's hand with another kiss. 

***

/You keep doing that, and I might have to get the brush and pet you 
until you start purring like I want to!/

Ken shook his head, "Oh c'mon! I'm flattered if anything.  And if we 
were two normal guys, you'd have every right to worry, but girl's do 
nothing for me, I promise.  Frankly most guys don't either but..." he 
leaned forward for a little glance he'd always wanted to try, one that 
could perhaps be defined as a chaste leer...

...but then he realized his elbow, while traversing the narrow cart, had 
rather landed in his bowl of miso soup.  

"Oh damnit." At least, in his embarrassment, he still possessed the 
mind to pull his sleeve out slowly, ring it out and roll it up to 
prevent further incidences.

/Well, now we've both made fools of ourselves in our own heads./

"I suppose mentioning at this point that Carly drew you a picture would 
be incongruous."

***

"It would--but I'd like to see it anyway."

/But why would she have drawn me a picture?/

Biting his lip to keep from smiling, Ran nudged his bowl of miso over 
to Ken's side of their impromptu breakfast table, and helped himself 
to a bit of omelet and rice. 

Took a bite and prodded the rest of fluffy bit of egg and the floral-
scented rice. "I rather liked having you leer at me too." 

***

Ken rolled his eyes and flashed a rather acute crimson for a moment as 
he stood and strode over to the heap of papers, which he began to root 
though with a care not usually bestowed upon bothersome legal 
documents.  "I know it's in here somewhere... aha! Here we go..." And he 
pulled out what at first seemed to be a plate of rather dull 
photographic film, which he displayed held against the manila envelope 
to the light wouldn't shine through.  

It, in fact, turned out to be a very thin paper, though not evenly 
translucent- no, it almost had veins like flower petals to it, patches 
of haze with no particular origin.  Scratched out in very dark blue ink 
upon it was a portrait of a young man.

One who bore little resemblance to Ran: his hair was much longer, the 
face too round, the features much too brutal... and though pictures only 
from the center of his chest up, he was evidentially nude.  But the 
eyes especially, though only a few quick strokes, seemed all too 
familiar.  They happened to be his own.

"It's her hobby, drawing people she meets, sometimes before she meets 
them and I..." something crinkled inside the folder.  "Hey, what's this?
'Thanks for letting me rest my feet at your place, but I had to split 
of course.  You've got enough troubles without me...' speaking of not 
going through other people's mail, I think this is for you."

***

His napkin landed in a crumple in his chair and Ran walked over to 
the paper strewn table, taking the note with a frown, one which only 
deepened as he read it.  

"Fiona."

He crushed the note in his fist and let it drop to the floor, 
irritated because she had dared to lecture him about Savil.  He was 
going to do what he wanted in that regard damn it!  He was NOT going 
to listen to some...some know-it-all kid!

The hapless piece of paper rolled away under the cart with one swift 
kick, and Ran, eager to change the subject before the last few 
threads of their peaceful morning were cut, glanced at the film in 
Ken's hands with some interest.    

"It's not...too bad of a drawing, but if that's supposed to be 
me..."  he tilted his head to one side, looking at Ken and then back 
at the sketch.  "Well...she sort of missed the mark a little."

***

Ken took another look at the ink sketch himself and nodded in 
agreement.  "Yes, you're much cuter than that, but Carly was never much 
of a romantic... although considering she's never seen you.  Hell, I 
don't think she even knew for sure I would bring anyone with me.  No, 
she couldn't have..."

A toss of his shoulders and the paper ended up back in the folder for 
the time being.  /I wonder what possessed her to try sketching what my 
love would look like?/

/I mean, she draws everyone she knows, she's got to have backed work.../

/And she didn't know you./

The ink eyes still haunted him a bit, though not as much as the violet 
ones.  The true ones.  The ones that had fixed him so...

/Dare I ask about Fiona?/

/Ah... nope, I don't.  Not one bit./

"Don't worry about it.  I'm sure she knows.  In the mean time..." he 
leaned in very close to Ran's shoulder, rubbing it a little with his 
nose.  "Thank you for ordering breakfast.  I hate to eat and run but... 
well, I stink.  I know I do."

***

"If you say so.  And anytime, Ken."

Ran appreciatively marked Ken's retreat all the way to the bathroom, 
then walked back over to the cart.  He plucked up the last bite of 
his pancakes, then wheeled the cart to the door and pushed it 
outside.  When he came back in, his eye was drawn back to Fiona's 
note.  He stood there, regarding it with dislike, then walked over 
and snatched it up.  

"I don't care what you think, Fiona."  

The balled up sheet went soaring through the air and bounced into the 
fireplace, kicking up a tiny cloud of ash.  Smirking, Ran flung 
himself down into one of the chairs, legs dangling over one arm.  The 
little jewelry case, which had spent the night in his pocket, dug 
into his hip, and he wriggled the box out and flipped it open.  The 
rubies winked at him from within their blue velveteen bed.  

"You sure know some odd people, Ken.  But then, I suppose they all 
think the same thing about me."

"Not that I'm really unused to people thinking that about me.  Not 
that I care."

He lay the little box in his lap, and hesitantly removed Aya's 
earring and simply held it, turning it over and over in his palm.    

"I remember when you bought these.  I remember finding that card in 
my car, later on.  I always thought it was odd that you had carried 
it with you, and hadn't left it in your room."  He smiled a 
little.  "Did you think I'd go snooping for it, and you wanted to 
keep it safe?"  

"I never did anything like that, Aya.  That was your little trick."

Ran hesitated again, looking from the box to the long, curved earring 
in his hand as if trying to make a decision, and then he put Aya's 
earring back in place.  

"They were cheap and gaudy, and really not you, Aya, but you wanted 
them, and I could never refuse you anything."  

The box closed with a snap, and Ran put it back into his pocket, 
smiling sadly.  "And I can't really refuse you, either, Ken."

/And I'll do it before we leave Terra./ 

***

Ken, who had crept naked into the bedroom to leave his pajamas on the 
bed, listened and Ken did his very best to sink down quietly into the 
bed, and think for a moment without the patter of the shower 
distracting his thoughts.  

/Can't refuse me.../

/Have I asked for all that much...?/

/D'uh, more than a whole lifetime of Aya-chan's./

A smirk, crass and pointless and weird took him.  /Man, if I was Aya.  
If only I was Aya.../

/You're jealous of a girl in a coma./

/You're jealous of a girl you have to learn to love./

/Learn? I do.  Second hand but still... if she was that special to my 
Ran.  I'd do anything for her./

/That's what I really, honestly think, sweetheart./

/But then again, I never had a sister... I'd like to share yours./

/Did she know... you liked boys?/

/Did she play other little tricks on you?/

/I know you like to talk about her, in an odd little way./

/One safe topic of conversation.  Well, safer than Fiona./

He stretched, shook his head, and locked himself in the shower for a 
few long minutes of white noise and curiously floral hotel shampoo.  He 
in all recklessness, kept the water on as hot as it would go, and 
whistled when he didn't have to stop and smudge some soap from his 
cheeks.  No tune, it was hard enough to carry one note with wet lips.

But when he had finished, he hung for another moment under the spray, 
tapping his foot against the drain as if he'd forgotten something.  A 
quick glance to the shower walls, the smoking cherry beige tile.  No 
one around, so he crouched, one hand creeping around between his legs, 
grazing his entrance...

In the end he gave up before he even had a chance to try anything, just 
sat down under the hot hail he turned back to cold, and let it spill 
over him for awhile.

He smiled again.  /I'm hopeless./

And then a gulp.

/Yeah, I left all my clothes out in the trunk in the living room.  I 
can't wear what I had on yesterday! Ysanne made me sweat like a 
madman!/

"Umm... Ran? Can you do me a favor?" he called.

***

Upon hearing Ken's summons, Ran shook off the dreamy lull that had 
fogged his brain and uncurled his lanky frame from the armchair.  He 
padded into the bedroom, half-expecting to find him in the midst of 
some minor dilemma, but all that met him was the slush of the 
shower.  

He stood there by the bed, staring down at Ken's pajamas.  

/Ah, so you're in there still./ 

/And you want me...to come in there?/

He tugged at one eartail, curling it around his finger, and looked 
over at the bathroom door.  

/Oh, what is my problem?  I've lived with the guy for two years 
already.  It's not like.../

/Yeah, it is.../

Ran tucked both eartails behind his ears and dragged himself over to 
the door.  Cracked it open a little and called out.  "Umm...Yeah.  
What do you need?"  

***

Upon hearing the door squeak, Ken's knees clanked together of their own 
accord and his instinctively hid himself behind the towel which dangled 
from the shower door.

Just two little fingers hovering on the edge, peering in with no 
visible eyes behind them and still.

/You spend almost twelve years as a kept boy and you do this just 
hearing Ran this close to you while you're in the shower./

/I'm pathetic -_-;;;/

"Well, could you maybe wheel that trunk into the err... bedroom for me? 
I ah... kinda forgot to grab something to wear and my stuff from 
yesterday is kinda nasty so..."

/Wait a second! Didn't you just tell him most of that stuff was 
embarrassing?/

/Sure did, but have I got a better idea?/

The door hadn't exactly closed.  Ran either sensed his personal 
trepidation or was experiencing some himself, possibly a lot.

/It's these little disasters you never seem to be able to avoid./

"Umm... unless you have a better idea.  I could go in a sheet and all 
but..."

/Just please, for the love of God, don't open the trunk.../

/Because what's in it is well.../

/Quite possibly one of the world's more eclectic collections of leather 
and vinyl... and plastic... and various handcuffs... lots of chains... 
bondage pants... at least one skirt... maybe some rubber, I don't seem 
to remember... sex toys... and one descent pair of jeans.../

He saw them hovering in his minds eyes like a giggling crow...

***

"Your trunk?  Uh, yeah, Ken.  I'll go get it for you."

Ran drew the whining door closed, and padded back into the living 
room, where the trunk still stood.  He worked the latches shut, and 
then, both hands wrapped around the smooth metal end handle, 
proceeded to drag it into the bedroom.  

And, in the doing, heard the oddest little clanks and rattles coming 
from within.

/What in the hell do you have in here, Ken?  Chain mail shirts?/

/You said your clothing was a bit odd, but I never thought it would 
make that kind of noise.../

Ran maneuvered it over to the bed, and turned it so that Ken could 
easily open it.  Chafing his stressed, aching hands, he walked back 
over to the door, and, with a polite knock, cracked it open again and 
called, "I've brought it in.  It's by the bed."  

He paused for a moment, then added in an attempt to soothe any of 
Ken's possible misgivings, "And...*I'll* be in the next room."  

***

"Thanks Ran!" Ken called, faltering a bit on the last 'n' as if he had 
choked on a bit of spray, when in fact, he realized at that exact 
second just how rife his words were with relief.

/And that won't do!/

/I wouldn't mind being undressed around you./

/If it wouldn't bother you.  But it would, and all that awful stuff./

He sighed, and after about halfway toweling himself off, slunk into the 
bedroom, rather dripping.  Smoothing a few stray wet threads form his 
eyes, he knelt and popped the latches again.  But then he only hung 
above the old dry cleaning bags, the velvet pouches, the shoeboxes... a 
few drops of water ran from him and splashed onto them, leaving little 
distorted lines that lead into the dark cracks beyond the edges.

Dark cracks that began to rustle as he finally took to leafing through 
them... which produced the most fascinating sound- like falling forks 
and ripped bean bag chairs spilling themselves all over a sidewalk.

/Well, he didn't scream, so he mustn't have looked./

His jeans finally chose to show themselves about halfway down to the 
bottom, and quite omitting his underwear, he pulled them on and took a 
moment to ascertain their fit.

/Now just how in the hell can I be the same size I was at seventeen? I 
thought I'd put on some muscle since then./

/Yeah, and you used to have a bit of a tummy too.  All those nights 
dining out./

But smoothing the front of his bare stomach.  /Just a bit though./

However, a quick turn revealed the black denim, low cut and actually 
intended to be worn by a girl, left his hips bare and revealed...

/Oh geeze, I forgot how much they show up when I'm wet!/

He dove back to the chest, searching for something... anything not too 
shocking that just might obscure his waist.  Not a demanding request 
for any other box of clothing, but Ken's included not even a descent t-
shirt.  The only thing that came close to his unexpected need happened 
to be what might have been described as sleeveless duster.  Also black, 
and made of something soft and synthetic.

But it didn't seem to want to stay close until he fastened it down his 
middle.  And the thing latched with a series of rather delicate silver 
chains.  That clattered when he moved.  Rang.

Did so with especial loudness when he strode into the living room after 
Ran, lips curled in sick amusement of himself.

***

Schuldich sat staring into the one gold eye of his sister's puppy, 
irresolutely sucking away the last of his coffee which he had liberally 
laced with the smallest fragments of his chocolate.  

"Speak boy."

"Arf."

"You're such an idiot."

"Bow wow."

"But we're in Japan now."

"Wan wan."

Another sigh, one of the workmen fell hard against something, "You 
break it, you pay for it!" he snapped and then turned back to the gaily 
panting Farfarello who had chocolate and yellow risotto juice smeared 
all over his nose.  "Oh, you were so much more interesting when you 
were insane."

"God will suffer at my hands."

"Exactly."

But he'd already lost his interest and so re-instated the canine 
memories before hopping to his feet and heading for the bedroom, 
casting his kimono off while only halfway there.  The maintenance staff 
balked, even those who had been summoned previously.  He swung his 
bottom and relished the foamy shock.  What a perfect after breakfast 
treat.  

"Let's see..." He asked of his closet, and possibly Bradley if he 
remained within earshot, though he couldn't tell with the other's 
shields on full.   "What could I wear today that says, 'I'm a skanky 
ho, but a well dressed skanky ho?'"

No suggestions from the enchanted darkness of the armoire.  Not that he 
had been expecting a faun to appear and correct his grammar using the 
distended crossbar of a lamppost. But this was Terra after all so...

He went with the pants from a pastel green suit, an aquamarine silk 
tank top.  A filmy scarf of uncertain origin and enough cologne to have 
inundated a small country.  These set off with the usual headband and 
glasses perched atop his forehead. The trousers hung entirely too low 
without a belt and so they stayed so separated, his navel in full view.  

/The 80's are over and I guess I don't care./

Then back to the dining room after Bradley who had resigned to abiding 
there in the mean time until his piano had been reasonably extracted 
from today's disaster and probably to whatever it was he himself would 
dare appear in.  Still, it would be fun to catch his reaction to THIS.

Not the get-up but rather, "Maybe I should go talk to Nagi."

***

Brad had known Schuldich was in the living room before he'd even 
spoken--the jaw-dropping stares the workmen were casting in the 
direction of the hallway was his calling card.  That, and the gallon 
of cologne with which he'd doused himself.  

But it was expensive cologne, and so Crawford didn't mind.  So much 
so that he dropped his shields and told him as much.  

And then, after taking in the outfit he'd chosen, he gave his 
unbiased opinion on that as well.  

/80's era Nick Rhodes always did work for you./  

He looked back over to the laboring foursome just in time to catch 
the unmistakably lustful way one of them was eyeing his lover.  

/Seems that boy agrees with me./

/Hmmm...What do you think?/

/No?  Too skinny for your tastes?/

/Oh well.../

"Anyway...Let me get this straight.  You, a telepath, are asking me 
if you should go talk to Nagi.  Do you realize how silly that 
sounds?  Not to mention that having you talk to Nagi would be like 
Leona Helmsley advising Imelda Marcos on how to be a fair and just 
employer.  No offense."

He gave Schuldich another admiring look, and got up from his chair, 
walked around him, and wrapped his arms around his waist, hooking his 
thumbs into the waistband of his trousers.  He nuzzled his ear.  

"I have to wonder though just what you'd say to him."  

Another crash, a small one, rang out from one corner.  Crawford 
paused just before he could nibble on the redhead's ear, and looked 
in that direction to find that the same workman who'd been ogling 
Schuldich had upset one of the pedestals, and had sent a crystal vase 
to its doom.  Brad was not pleased.    

"That was an antique, you little cretin."

"I'm sorry, sir, I--"

"Spare me.  Apologies won't bring it back."

"Well, I..."  

Brad impatiently waved a hand for silence.  "The management is going 
to hear about your blundering, and I will be recompensated for its 
loss--either with money, or with your job."

"But--!"

Crawford gave the crestfallen boy a bright smile, and leaned in close 
to Schuldich to murmur sarcastically,  "Honestly!  You'd think they'd 
never seen a couple in love before, wouldn't you, darling?"

***

"Not like this." Schuldich, in a not dreadfully innocent manner, rolled 
his hips against Bradley's hoping to coax his hands back to their 
previous location on his waist, where sure enough, they fell as the two 
of them idled back into the dining room, which happened to be the only 
private place remaining presently.  After all, staying in the living 
room would just encourage more droppage, and considering they'd already 
lost three vases, a chess set, a small table and a ginger jar to the 
various bumblers supposedly entrusted with keeping the Kalm Inn running 
smoothly...  

::What can I say, I don't go for Trowa Barton asses, or otherwise, I 
would have suggested he hand his over to pay for the vase.::

::He's thinner than me.:: Not an insecurity, merely a truth, and the 
hands about his waist ran circles about it, as if trying to find some 
proof, assuage the fear that did not exist.  He'd baited that one, he 
knew it.  He'd got what he wanted.  

::I'm needy, I'm bad, aren't I? ^_~::

::But if you're interested, be my guest.::

His switch to normal speech was, as usual, abrupt.  "But speaking of 
skinny little boys, telepaths have always been kinda regarded as the 
great," here he gave an overly dramatic swish of his hands, "sages of 
the various foibles of humanity.  I know that's not exactly what..." 

Even if he hadn't been one of said telepaths, the present disbelieving 
cock of Bradley's eyebrow was enough.  "OK, OK, so I've more or less 
made a life out of *not* acting like a 'normal' telepath, but for 
starters, you bring me a normal telepath, I'll flop down in bed on 
command for a week."

::Saffie doesn't count, obviously.::

"But... and don't think I'm being smart with you," At this, he wound his 
bare arms around his lover's neck- a distinctly submissive and 
downright feminine gesture he ruined with the  mischief that flickered 
in his eyes and refused to die.  "have you got a better idea?"

::Calling Dr. Laura doesn't count.::

***

"Oh, I always have a better idea.  Problem is, at this moment none of 
them have anything to do with our problem child..."  His voice rose 
two octaves.  "And have everything to do with you, naked and 
spreadeagled on the table, and me with a bowl of whipped cream and 
strawberries."

Another small crash, followed by a heartsick, "Damn."  

Crawford grinned at Schuldich.  "That was worth the loss."  

"But...Hmmm.  Let's see."  He drummed his fingers on Schuldich's 
rear, lost in thought.  "Well...All right.  No, I can't think of any 
other solution.  But, to be honest, I don't see what you could do for 
him when he won't even listen to Saf."  

Both his eyes and his hands wandered over Schuldich's lithe form.  

/So go ahead.../

Crawford tipped his head down and kissed Schuldich hard.

"Go forth, liebe.  I'll be in the living room until that lot clears 
out.  After that I'll be in the shower."  He smirked then, and left 
him with a squeeze of his ass.  

/Oh, and Schuldich?/ He thought as he walked back to the living 
room.  /I'm ALWAYS interested./  

/But then, you already knew that I'm sure./

***

A swell of mental and physical chuckles.  ::I know that, Crawford with 
everything I am...::

Swaying his rather be-pinched bottom, Schuldich sauntered out of the 
kitchen, leaving Bradley to enjoy his reprimanding of the poor 
wretched, smitten, workers.

::And don't act like you won't.::

Not as if it was a long walk to Nagi's chambers, but his thoughts 
rather swam with wonders.

/Maybe it hasn't been so bad, collecting dust./

/Egh, collecting cum is more like it./

/Of course Nagi won't listen to Saffie, she's a girl.  Girls are 
supposed to listen to him./

/The most surprising thing about all this is that you've listening to 
her all these years.  I don't know why that gets me, Brad.  Just 
because I remember reading inside how much you hated kids, then you 
show up here with Nagi and.../

/Oh, the irony! The irony!/

At last, he found himself presented with the otherwise innocuous door, 
which didn't strike him as much as an obstacle as the tight mental 
barriers beyond did.  Not to mention the tinny strands of residue music 
from a pair of headphones.

He, Schuldich, knock? Why, that notion bordered on obscene.  He merely 
tried the knob.

Locked, naturally.

::Open the door, Nagi, or I'll let Farfie pick the lock.::

No answer.

::You're being childish.::

No answer.

::Now just what could opening the door hurt you? Can't I have one word 
with you, we HAVE been living together for...:: /Too long./

No answer.

"Open the damn door!"

/God, I am so glad Saffie wasn't here to see that./

/I'm pathetic :P./

***

His head was full of the ethereal wail of Baiser from his headphones, 
his concentration poured solely into moving his clothes, shoes, and 
other personal effects from the closet to the various cases and he 
had scattered about on the floor.  Garments would slip off hangers, 
shake themselves out and then fold up and flutter into this pile or 
that.  Even his posters were getting into the act, untaping 
themselves and rolling up into tight cylinders.

He'd heard Schuldich all right; it was hard to ignore the husky, 
German voice that had scattered itself all over his lovely, chiming 
music.  

Hard, but not impossible.  And rather delightful at that.  

Still, it intrigued him that his father's sex toy had deigned to come 
to his door.  Tickled him even more that he was practically begging 
to be allowed entrance, and that interest proved to be stronger than 
his stubbornness for once.  

His headphones slid down to his neck, the volume dropped down to a 
gentle hum, and the lock gave way with a glance.  

"What do you want, Schuldich?"  

***
  
Schuldich took a moment to pout in irritation at an escapee thought.

::I am NOT a sex toy.::

::I don't have an on/off switch, I'm not made of plastic, and man, if 
you knew what I did to that anal-retentive prig last night...!::

But eventually, he continued in an only faintly miffed tone of voice.  
"I want to come in and talk to you face to face.  I thought that was 
obvious." /But it's not as if you can think straight with that... noise 
blaring in your ears.  I'd make a study of you except you put those 
damnable shields up./

How frustrating.

He tried the knob again to find it actually gave way to his palm, as 
the door gave way to the air beyond.  Air that happened to be hung with 
various articles of clothing, half rolled posters and what few personal 
items Nagi owned, all still and rather swaying despite not resting on 
solid ground.  Nagi himself occupied most of the grey futon beyond, his 
headphones caught around his neck like a choker, his eyes dead and 
somehow dimmer green.

His mind silent static to his own.

Not bothering to ask first, Schuldich flopped down on the mattress 
beside him, folding his hands behind his head and stretching.  "Saffie 
hasn't told me anything, so I haven't told Brad.  He figured it out on 
his own, or the voices told him, or whatever.  Just so we understand 
each other..."

***

"You understand me?  How touching."  

Nagi abruptly stood up, wrapping his thin arms around himself as he 
crossed over to his desk.  The beat up, red swivel chair wasn't as 
comfortable as his futon, no, but it was better than having to sit so 
close to his unwanted companion.  

"So Crawford figured out something without having to run to either 
you or the imp for help.  I'm so proud."  

The last article of clothing glided down from the ceiling, and one by 
one, all the cases shut and locked, and lined up along the wall by 
the door.  

Nagi turned his dead eyes back onto Schuldich, and regarded him in 
silence for a few seconds.  Then he stood up, rather formally, and 
the cd case came to him from across the room.  The silver disc 
replaced itself and the case flew over to a box, as another one flew 
out of it.  Again, the air around Nagi was filled with a low volumed 
hum.  

"I don't know what you're up to, Schuldich, but I'm sure it's 
something dreadful and underhanded.  How right am I?"  

***

/Of course I understand you! I'm a telepath!/

/But lets not dwell on absurdities and hopeless paradigms./  

Schuldich assumed his best casual air, pretending not to notice that 
the other half of the futon had ever contained a scrumptious little 
Japanese teenager. 

"Quite right," he finally took it upon himself to reply.  "By the 
standards of most men and you KNOW what we think of those.  But the 
really scary thing is that you know what I came in here to tell you 
because I told it to you last time you got grounded." 


One of his hands fell to his own thigh and the other stroked the warm 
patch of sheets beside him in a distinctly evocative manner.

/That's payback for breakfast./

"The offer still stands.  You're welcome in our bed any time you want."  

***

Ran had been mourning the fact that he hadn't bothered to bring any 
books along prior to setting forth on his journey, when he saw Ken 
emerge from the bedroom.  Of course, he presently forgot all about 
books.  

/Chains?!/  

/Okay, so that's not what I'm used to seeing you wear, but.../

His gaze gravitated to the ribbon of bare skin between vest and 
jeans, and hovered there appreciatively.  

/I can definitely live with it.../ 

He noticed Ken's wry smile, then.  

/But you look so uncomfortable, so.../

Ran got to his feet and walked over to him, glancing down at his 
waist again. 

/I'm going to insist that you get some new things./ 

And then again.  

And then, unthinkingly, Ran reached out and brushed his fingers over 
Ken's hips.  

"What...?"

***

Ken jerked softly, but clapped his palms over those so startled and 
beginning to flee him.  His smile remained, just as crooked and 
satiric.  /If you're gonna feel them, you might as well feel 'em 
right./ he figured, and actually pulled the thin layer away from under 
Ran's fingers, letting them fall to what they had just barely sensed.

The two deep, shiny gouge scars on either side of his waist.  

"Ran, those are why you don't wear a chastity belt to play soccer.  As 
you can see, I learned the hard way."

At this his eyes took a moment to traverse the milky sprawl of his 
lover's flesh where it peered out from his black clothes.

And then it hit him.

/Aw c'mon.  I know you've got a few.../

***

"A...A chastity belt?  Ken..."  

Ran's fingers apologetically fumbled over the healed indentations in 
Ken's flesh, quietly noting how differently the scars felt from his 
unblemished skin; noted how ill the whole idea of Ken being thus 
injured made him feel.  

And once more, he cursed Kaze's soul.  

He tore his eyes away from Ken's waist, and lifted them to his face 
just in time to catch the way he was looking at him.  It was clear to 
him what Ken was thinking just from his expression, but he decided to 
ask him anyway.  

"I suppose...You want to see mine, now, since you unwittingly showed 
me yours?"

A nod, and a slight softening of his twisted smile.  

Ran gently withdrew his hands from their perch around Ken's hips, and 
hovered there in front of him, uncertainly.  Then he caught the hem 
of his t-shirt in both hands, and, after a second's more hesitation, 
tugged it over his head.  

He gestured to the puckered, faded bulletwound scar on one shoulder, 
and then again at the long pinkish slash across the left side of his 
ribcage and down his stomach.  "As you can see, I have my share of 
scars too."  

***

His curiosity got the better of him.  What else could he say to 
himself?

Deep inside him somewhere, he could feel how ritualized these movements 
were, soaked with the old-fashioned tenderness of two war buddies who 
used to like each other a little too much.  Still did.  The acts 
reminded him of a thousand more realistically passionate ones- the slow 
moves, the touches of reluctance.  But this ran deeper than fucking or 
sex or making love.

This was more honest than being totally naked.

That Ran had even offered affected him deeply in ways no words would 
cling to.  Lines on his own body tingled in imagined remembrance.  His 
smile faded entirely to that of the Mona Lisa at best.  It was hard to 
tell just what his boyfriend thought of all this  He couldn't even tell 
exactly what he himself thought.  Well, except for the question of 
where they had come from.  He didn't remember... ever seeing Aya hurt, 
and since Aya abided in the same body as Ran...

"This might just be... the assassin in me talking, but I mean it, even if 
it sounds funny." He paused and returned the chancing gestures that had 
been made over his own old wounds, tracing Ran's with the pad of his 
thumb.  "They're pretty."

***

"Pretty?" Ran echoed softly, puzzled by such a compliment.  He'd 
never considered them as such--more as permanent markers of his 
failures.  

But then, such things as failures and disappointments and loss had 
helped him keep ahold of the kite string of his humanity.  So, as 
much as he had killed, as much as he had awakened before dawn soaked 
in hatred--both for himself and the world around him, he had managed 
to retain some bit of softness, some bit of compassion.  

His hand gravitated to the wound on his shoulder, and he rubbed it 
thoughtfully, recalling the moment it had been dealt to him.  

"Yeah, I guess they are at that."   

It had seemed the thing to do, stripping away the concealing layer of 
clothing and showing him what lay beneath it.  Easy to do, really, 
despite his reluctance.  Ran had been half-afraid that he was about 
to do the wrong thing in exposing his flaws to his lover.  It was, 
after all, a highly intimate act.  

But, he now knew that his fears were foolish.

He was a fool. 

"I wish..."

/I had known what he was doing to you./

/That I could have stopped him./

His hands went to Ken's hips again, resting as lightly there as 
before, and Ran kissed him, just as lightly.  Like a boy with his 
first real crush.  

***

"Woul, that's not a hard wish to grant." Ken smiled under the lips of 
his beloved, and kissed him back with hardly the force of a cloud 
brushing by.

"I'm honored, Ran." Another brief contact of their lips.

"I'm even a little jealous... it's kinda hard to explain why."  Once 
more.

/Though I suppose it's 'cause your scars mean something, have some 
kinda honor to them and mine are just... just dumb.  Avoidable.  Easy to 
bear.../

"Better?" Asked as he found his fingers in those ever so red eartails.  
And received a very small nod for his gestures.  "I'm glad."

/And as much as I'd love to march you half naked down the main hall so 
everyone could see how beautiful you are with your little red 
birthmark.../

/Could I say that too you?/

/Well... let me try.../

His words tripped a bit, since it was the second time he'd said them, 
in a way.  He winked to try and cover it up.  "And you're welcome to go 
down the grand hall shirtless, and let everyone see.  But I'm happy 
either way, getting to show you off, shirt or no shirt, new one or this 
one."

A rather long pause where he became painfully aware what a ninny he 
sounded like.

"Can we hold hands?"    

***

Going shirtless around Ken in private was one thing; going shirtless 
in public was completely out of the question.  Ran never was one to 
seek attention, even though he usually did get it, i.e. the silly 
girls who trailed around after him at the shop.  

Besides, he didn't want anyone other than Ken to see his scars--
physical and emotional, for Ken could understand how he felt, to a 
degree at least, having had been there himself.  

Plus, he trusted him, whereas the rest of the world, he did not.  

Well, save for three or four others...

The shirt went back on, and Ran, tugging the close-fitting garment 
smooth, gave him an apologetic little smile.  

"For your eyes only," he replied, and reached for one of Ken's 
hands.  

"Shall we go?"  

***

"And I thought I was the slut of the house.  Schuldich, I believe 
you've just outmatched me in terms of sleaziness."  

The volume went up another notch, and Nagi shifted in his chair, 
slowly spreading his legs, and slipping down a little in his seat.  

"What's the matter, Schuldich?  Crawford getting bored with you?  Or 
is it the other way around?"

Nagi burrowed his hand inside his jeans and lazily petted himself, 
the fabric rising and falling with every move of his hand; locked 
eyes with Schuldich and mockingly licked his lips.    

"Poor Mom.  Can't Dad get it up for you anymore?"  

***

Schuldich had long prided himself over his control of acts others would 
consider involuntary.  

But as the only person who would astound him, he presently marveled 
over how he managed not to turn crimson.  Not of rage, not 
embarrassment...

"Don't..." Spoken low and sexy as he rose to his feet, tossing his hair 
over his shoulder with a flick of his neck, his eyes lingering over 
Nagi like an illicit caress in the back of a shinkasen.  

"...call..." His hand reached out and seized the youngest member of 
Schwartz by the arm, hauling him to stand and causing the hand that 
remained buried in his pants to fall to an odd angle.  A little shout. 

"...me..." he dodged the lamp that came flying at him as he ripped the door 
open, jerking Nagi outside with the same fluid motion.  His other arm 
met the boy's, and kept it crammed against himself.

"...MOM!"

With that, he marched the still lewdly positioned minor into the living 
room where the workers were just finishing darting about after the last 
few shards of glass.  The room was filled with the scent of their well-
worked bodies and of the peaceful meadows beyond.  The bubblings of the 
house wrens.

Gaping eyes.  Schuldich grinned, and presented his charge to them just 
as he was, held him there, sipping at the various wines of their shock 
and sudden, unpleasant arousal.  One bottle of utter degradation.  Oh, 
Nagi had dropped his shields there for a second in his embarrassment.  

The little one who had been oogling him earlier seemed close to tears.

"Everyone, I assume you've cleaned off the chairs.  I'd like you all to 
sit down at this point and make yourselves comfortable.  You won't be 
paid extra for this, but consider it... a gift unto itself."

And then, in his most irritating whine.  "Oh BRAAAAAAAD! Nagi's been 
rude to me, I'm gonna punish him.  Wanna HELP?"

***

Brad, meanwhile, had long since finished his shower and was putting 
the finishing touches to his outfit (black trousers, black leather 
boots, and black, short-sleeve turtleneck) when he heard his lover 
call.  

With a snap of the wristband of his diamond-and-platinum Cartier 
watch, Crawford strolled out of the bedroom to see just what Nagi had 
done, and what Schuldich had planned.

And what he saw brought a feral grin to his face, and subsequently, a 
brief flash of dismay in Nagi's eyes.  The boy dropped his gaze to 
the carpet, clearly abashed.  

"Well, well, well," Crawford said, glancing around at the cluster of 
workmen and then back to Schuldich.  "So he's been rude to you, has 
he?"  He grasped Nagi's chin and forced him to look him in the eyes--
which tracked the line of his arm down to his jeans the moment Nagi 
did.  "You know, you've been way out of line lately.  Disrespectful.  
Coming in at all hours, after doing who knows what?!  You should be 
ASHAMED."

Nagi jerked away from Crawford, once more averting his eyes, and Brad 
chuckled.  

"Tell me, Schuldich.  What did you have in mind for our disobedient 
lad?"  

***

"Well," The elder telepath began with a lazy stretch.  "Being hard on 
him isn't going to help him anymore.  Poor thing seems to think he's a 
slut."

Any other voice and the pity would not have been questioned regarding 
it's genuine nature. Schuldich... well, serious doubt assumed even the 
most na‹ve workman.  He kneeled down beside his flushing charge then, 
keeping one arm looped around his shoulders, and his jade eyes trained 
on Brad.

::Enjoying yourself, my dear voyeur?::

"But the thing is... he called me one too, so it's only fair, that I help 
teach him a little something I learned a long time ago.  You too of 
course."

::Since he also insinuated we're having sexual difficulties, though I 
have my doubts he believes that himself.  We must convince him to put 
his shields down.::

He batted his eyes at his lover, and peeled off his headband with one 
hand, casting it and the glasses aside before running his cheek up the 
length of Nagi's side until his lips reached his ear, and his tongue 
left them for the soft skin.  

"There is no such thing as a slut.  Not even if you end up..." A little 
jerk on the hand that had gone down his pants.  "...getting what you want 
in front of other people.  You know, I would have done this more 
gently, Nagi-chan but..."

He took the boy's head by the hair that trickled over his nape, and 
turning him until they were eye to eye.  "You called me mom.  And you 
made fun of my boyfriend so... tell me..."

Brad laughed appreciatively as he slid his fingers into Nagi's mouth 
and held it open for his own lips to ravage.  "Would a mom do that?"

Not another word.  Schuldich merely sat down on the floor, legs 
crossed, and pulled the telekinetic, who had gone cold and allowed his 
knees to turn to jell-o, into his lap before patting the carpet beside 
him with a fond glance toward Crawford.

One of the workmen gulped.

***

Crawford crossed over to where his lover sat, and hunched down on the 
floor beside him, leering a bit at Nagi.

/You know, I didn't see this coming.  How delightful!/

/I must have been a very vicious boy this month for you to reward me 
twice in two days./

He rifled his fingers through Schuldich's hair; caressed his arm.  
Petted Nagi's denim-clad thighs, and smirked at his whimper.  

"Proceed, liebe."  

***

"But of course, mon petit lapin." Schuldich replied with grace of a 
matre'd at an expensive restaurant.  His mind voice though was slick 
with lust and that faintest mock.  ::When are you NOT vicious, Bradley? 
When are you not...?::

::And I do love it...::

To display just how just how much, he actually allowed his head to 
trace after his boyfriend's hand as it riffled his hair, his lips 
forming the effigy of one little word- pur.

Though he said nothing, rather turned his attention back to Nagi, whose 
head he took in one hand again, as he held it close.  His palm rested 
on the hot cheek, stroking with deliberate slowness, though the touches 
ran deep and left winking white marks behind.  With no thoughts for the 
child in his reach, he took to inspecting him physically- all over -the 
voluptuous tenseness of the muscles under his clothes, the eyes that 
had drifted closed...

"Oh, someone's already bruised your poor lips.  I'll have to be 
gentle."

And with his next deep caress his mouth granted, the most frightening 
thing of it was that he had kept his words, nearly seeming to have some 
desire to sooth the tender flesh beneath his own.

Crawford's wonderment at this was worth a whole week's worth of 
quickies in the bathroom.  

::But I always did have a gift for the long, slow and dramatic...::

::All the better for an audience.::

A smirk, he pried Nagi's hand from his trousers and held it to his own 
lips, took in the smell of fresh stiffens.   "He tastes very nice, 
Bradley.  Want?" A nod on the part of his lover, so he tilted the boy's 
head towards him, and let his lick and nibble those oddly scarlet lips.  
His charge distracted by Crawford's mouth, he took the opportunity to 
slide his own hand down his jeans.

***

/You were right, Schuldich.  You were so very right!/

Crawford clutched Nagi by the fine hairs at his nape, forcing him to 
take the gentle onslaught of lips and tongue, and so, when the boy 
felt Schuldich's inquisitive fingers creep down his stomach to toy 
with him, his moan was muffled.  Muted but no less erotic.  He 
grabbed at Schuldich's arm and tried to pull his hand away, but Brad 
only pried it loose.  

"Oh, no, you don't," he scolded.  "You're going to lie here and take 
whatever Schuldich wishes to deal out.  And me too, if I'm so 
inclined."  

Brad smiled coldly down at the boy's wide, fearful eyes--which 
promptly fluttered shut with a gasp as Schuldich began to lightly 
stroke his testicles.  Nagi shuddered in Crawford's arms.  

"Please...Don't..."

Crawford chuckled and dealt him a little slap.  "That's right, my 
little slut.  Beg for us." 

"I hate you."

"Hmm...Yes, so you've often told me."  
  
Nagi turned his blushing face away with a quiet whimper, and Crawford 
resumed watching his lover play.  Those icy eyes flickered towards 
the workmen, two of whom were stroking themselves through their 
clothes, and Crawford looked back over at Schuldich with a smirk.  

"But darling, where are your manners?  Our guests can't really see 
the show."

With that, Crawford gathered both of Nagi's thin wrists into one 
hand, and reached down to unbutton and unzip the boy's jeans.  

"There!  That's much, much better."  

***

Schuldich hovered silent over his charge for a few long moments, 
stroking him with impossible slowness, broken now and again by a quick 
pinch of the tender skin around his member.  Finally, his eyes half 
closed as if in gentle ire or contemplation, he tugged the boy back 
into his own lap and cradled his head below his own.

"Don't call Nagi a slut, it's not his fault," he protested in a low, 
silky voice.

Even as it became rather obvious to Crawford he was in fact rubbing 
himself on the underside of the thighs that crossed him.

Schuldich's mildness seemed infinitely more brutal than Schuldich as 
himself.  Especially considering the way he insisted on peering out 
from behind the moaning boy he held.  A few moments of silence came, 
broken only by s few snags of breath, not all of which were the 
child's.

"Alright," And at this, the telepath pulled his face away at last, and 
smiled sugar on the workmen.  "You're the guests, so you get to pick.  
Let's see... who would like to see us... use a vibrator on Nagi?"

No hands went up.

"And who would like to see us throw Nagi on the carpet and do him for a 
long, long time?"

No hands went up... this quite possibly being because most hands were 
well hidden in overalls and corduroy pockets. 

"Suck Nagi off?"

Still none.

Schuldich gave a little chuckle and affectionately squeezed the tense 
bundle cast before him.  "Who wants to suck me off?"  

The thin young boy who had broken their two best vases raised his hand 
at last.

The redhead cocked and eyebrow at his boyfriend.  ::I believe, Bradley, 
that this, they refer to in Sade as calling the gardener in.::

***

Crawford, who had taken to petting his ward's silky dark hair, looked 
from the boy to his boyfriend and offered the latter a sly smile.  

/It's entirely up to you, whether or not you indulge the lad in his 
desire.  I won't demand you do it./

/As if you'd listen to me if I did, my incorrigible redhead./

He let his hand trail down Nagi's flushed cheek to his throat, 
brushing the smooth skin with the pad of his thumb.  He didn't even 
jerk away from his touch that time, and Crawford murmured words of 
praise, chuckling softly when the boy moaned.    

/Not that I wouldn't mind the lot of them seeing just what an erotic 
sight you make when you cum./  

He chuckled then, and nodded at the sprawled boy in Schuldich's 
arms.  

"Shall I take up where you leave off?"  

***

"When I leave off," Schuldich replied with a long, throaty whisper.  
One arm still looped around Nagi's waist, he uncurled his long legs and 
patted his lap, winking at the now hopelessly white workman.

"Brad says it's Ok.  You want some? Better get it now.  We won't be 
here much longer..."

One of the older maintenance men proceeded to all but kick the younger 
one off the couch.  He fell to his hands and knees and hung there as if 
praying.  The telepath laughed sweetly as a debutante, though his lips 
still swirled with audacity.  "Don't be shy.  That would just..." he 
waved his hand to no one in particular.  "...ruin everything."

The boy nodded and crept over to him, never once raising his head above 
the level of Schuldich's, looking painfully submissive if anything.  As 
for Schuldich himself, he merely unfastened his zipper and turned his 
attention to the still, warm body still flush with his own.  "Nagi, you 
know... you're not much younger than I was, when Brad had me the first 
time.  I'm just doing for you what he did for me."  A break in the 
words in which he helped himself to a long, dazzling kiss, one he found 
tingled with a faint response from his previously unwilling partner.  
Intrigued, he fished the nameless child up from his lap, and held his 
face to Nagi's with a nod.  Watched the two of them tangle their 
tongues before he himself indulged with the new one.

::Ugh, he's a sloppy kisser Brad!::

None of his disappointment collected on his face then, rather his eyes 
drifted closed as he felt the timid fingers first reach for his turgid 
sex.  Finally he resumed his little speech to Nagi, who's own gaze had 
filled with quaking anticipation.  

"Only he had a mirror.  And he made me watch myself.  Do you know how 
embarrassing that is? Oh, it's a thousand times worse than having these 
four around."

The little Japanese boy's pants ended up dangling from one of the 
chairs as Schuldich pressed his halfway down to the floor, pulled his 
legs apart and stuffed one of the silver silk pillows under his bottom.  

"I'm going to show them how nice and gooey you are inside..."  Another 
kiss, this one quick and bitter as he wound his fingers onto Nagi's 
opening, and began to coax it open, sighing himself and the little 
maintenance boy set to work on him, taking the first tentative sip of 
his wetness.

***

Nagi cried out, a pitiful little mew, and unsuccessfully attempted to 
avoid Schuldich's fingers by wriggling out of his grasp again, but 
the redhead had him too securely.  

And, in truth, there was some little part of him who was enjoying 
what Schuldich was doing to him.  Some little part that was hoping he 
would throw him down on the carpet and do him.  

He hated himself for his weakness, and tears started to trickle down 
his face, only to be brushed aside by Crawford's ironically gentle 
fingers.  He cracked his eyes open a little to find his guardian 
avidly watching the unknown boy timidly lave Schuldich.  Then the 
redhead slid his finger into him down to the last knuckle and Nagi 
gasped, once more closing his eyes, as if by doing so he could 
distance himself from the pleasurable sensations Schuldich was 
causing him to feel.    

Meanwhile, Brad was enjoying the scene before him, and thoroughly--so 
much so he had finally taken to fondling himself.  He just couldn't 
hold out any more, not after seeing that boy dip his head down 
towards Schuldich's sex.  

/Bad kisser, hm?  I take it by your expression that he isn't so bad 
at...other things.../

/Oh, but you are beautiful.  Even more so now than you were that 
first night./  

He reached down and began to stroke the boy's hair, his head bobbing 
and swaying gently as he worked Schuldich.  Brad bit back a moan at 
the sight of his mouth rising and falling over him, and he couldn't 
help himself.  He leaned over, with his hand in Schuldich's hair, and 
kissed him, lapping and nibbling greedily at his lover's lips.  

***

::I'm spoiled, I'm used to the way you take me with your mouth... mmm... 
just like that.::  Schuldich returned Brad's ravishment of his lips 
with a few small, deep twists of his own, falling off but halfway 
through the first as he caught himself sighing hard with the tickling 
pressure of the worker boy's mouth bobbing over him.  All this while he 
sat, panting, one hand buried in Nagi, his eyes fixed with Bradley's...

His thighs came up and rubbed against the boy who straddled his lap.  
"You are pretty good... stop a sec and tell everyone how old you are."

A thick, timid, spitty voice answered.  "I'm fourteen, just legal here.  
Don't think you're..."

"I'd never think I was taking advantage of you." Schuldich paused and 
laughed, hitching his hips up a bit.  "I happen to think you're taking 
advantage of me.  But don't worry.  I... ooooooooohhhhhhh... like it." He 
shook his mane then and pierced Nagi with a second digit.  The 
telekinetic's shields remained in place, and yet he didn't exactly need 
them to be down to sense he'd pulled him open a little too far, too 
fast, just to show the sighing workmen indeed, just how he looked 
inside.

"See, Nagi? You're not a slut.  This total stranger's going down on me 
and if anything, he's a romantic.  The rest of the cleanup crew's 
having their most interesting morning of the week? Are you bad? Yes, 
but that's beside the point.  Are you a whore? Are you dirty?"

Before any answer was offered, he bent down and kissed his again, 
letting his hand creep down to his wrist, where he took it, held his 
fingers to Crawford's warm thighs.  "You want a little more? Why don't 
you ask him what he'd like to see all three of us do.  Don't be shy..."   

***

Crawford waited, but Nagi stubbornly remained silent, even though his 
hand remained curled on the older man's thigh.  

"No questions?  Not curious?" Brad scoffed.  "Oh, well..."

He got to his feet and walked across the room, to a handsome wooden 
chest, with five narrow drawers hidden behind two chinoserie cabinet 
doors.  18 century and very expensive--one a lady might have kept her 
table linens in, but which now housed another of Crawford's and 
Schuldich's eclectic collections.  

Which Brad then revealed to their audience with a great deal of 
relish.  

Sex toys.  Rings, handcuffs, blindfolds, harnesses, chains, massage 
oil, chokers, vibrators, plugs, and dildos and all sorts of lube.  
Tiny gasps rose up from the (practically) slavering foursome as 
Crawford began to sort through them.  

"What do I want to do, just the three of us?  Well," he drawled as he 
held a very flexible, and very long blue dildo up to the daylight.  "I 
want to do a lot of things."

"I want to play with you."  The dildo landed on the top of the 
chest.  

"I want to watch Schuldich play with you." A vibrator and a cock ring 
followed.

"Do you while you suck Schuldich off."  He weighed two bottles of 
lube--one cherry and one banana, and then plopped them both down.  

"Chain you up and both of us do you--and I mean in every way."

"Suck you off myself, while Schuldich holds you down."

He glanced over his shoulder at his lover and smirked then.  /You 
know me and my oral fixation.../

Brad turned around with all his treasured toys in his arms and padded 
over to where the merry trio were sprawled.  He sat down again, and, 
after dumping the items onto the carpet, he looked up, and calmly 
watched them play.  

Then he lunged forward and grabbed at Nagi's shirt, ripping it open 
and sending buttons flying in all directions.  Bent his head and 
licked at his throat.  Bit it hard and made him cry out.    

"I've got everything we need now...Including you."  

He trailed a hand down Nagi's chest, stroked his stomach and smirked 
when he felt it contract; felt his hips gently roll forward in 
response to Schuldich's caresses.  Nearly moaned when he heard 
Schuldich moan.  He tilted his head around to watch him, eyes 
narrowing with lust.  It was all he could do not to force the boy 
away and ravage him himself.  

But he didn't want to spoil his redhead's fun, so he settled for the 
next best thing.  

Nagi was torn from Schuldich's arms, and forced down to the floor, 
wrists pinned together above his head, and with Crawford's knee 
between his outstretched legs.  He grinned down into the boy's 
startled eyes.  

"Don't worry, Nagi.  I can be just as gentle as Schuldich."  

He slowly lowered himself alongside him, facing his audience, leg 
still acting as a barrier, and leaned in for the first of many 
kisses.  "Just as teasing, and just as considerate."    

***

"Shall we go?"

"Let's!" Ken replied with genuine surprise and fancy.  So hand in hand 
with his sweetheart, he bid farewell to their quarters for the time 
being, and lead him out the back entrance of the hotel, down into the 
swirling crowds and broken sunlight spears of the grand hall by 
morning.  Although... of all peculiar things, it seemed a bit more empty 
by day.  Most Terrans bordered on nocturnal after all.  Though it 
seemed a pity they would have to miss the azure vault above, now wrung 
with clouds- the blooms that had agreed to open only by day.  

/I wonder why.../ he thought rather slowly, flexing the fingers that held 
Ran's rather affectionately.  /That somehow... every single time I come 
back, I feel wonder when I realize no one is staring at me... for being 
this way with another boy?/

/Man, if I did this back in Japan.../

/Or anywhere else.../

/I... I don't think I could.  I'd be... well, not embarrassed for my sake./

/But his.../

And so instead, he cast a quick glance around at the men who were NOT 
looking and pointing as it were.  /Well, you could at LEAST act 
jealous./

And then he grinned.  

/Freedom has odd prices./

And then, as they turned a corner into another smaller arcade, this one 
with a floor that turned a blushing rose, /I hope there's no one too... 
umm... flamey in the shops today.  Err.../

As it was, not too many steps had passed before an impossibly skinny 
chap with grey hair, though otherwise appearing rather young... one who 
happened to be wearing a woman's blouse, came dashing from one of the 
shops and attempted to encircle his neck with his arms.

He ducked at the last moment, rather accidentally bequeathing that fate 
to Ran.  

The fellow, who was bawling like valley girl who's lost her favorite 
shoe, muttered something that sounded distinctly like- "Oh Ken! I've 
missed you so! I thought I'd never see you again!"

/So much for that.../

***

It felt odd, being able to freely walk about hand in hand with Ken, 
but not quite as odd as having a weeping man fling himself at him--
one who hadn't been aiming at him in the first place.  

And just where the hell did he get off doing that sort of thing to 
HIS Ken?

Ran looked over at his companion, all sullen and embarrassed.  "I had 
no idea you were THIS popular."  

"Oh, no, I'm not Ken," he spat at the teary-eyed man who still had 
his arms around his neck despite the fact he had looked up when Ran 
had spoken.  

"Oh!" The boy released Ran then, and took two steps away from him, as 
if in fear of suddenly being struck (an idea which Ran was definitely 
entertaining).  He turned to look at Ken again, wiping the black 
rivulets of mascara from his cheeks, then promptly burst into tears 
again, and went to make another grab for him.

But his second attempt was foiled once more--not by Ken, but by Ran, 
who grabbed him and pulled him away.  He slung one arm around him, 
letting it dangle over the brunette's chest.  

And furiously glared at Ken's over-exuberant admirer. 

"Who ARE you?"  

***

Ken sighed.  /I have the distinct impression I'm going to be doing that 
a lot!/ And leaned back against Ran as if he was camouflage, or a very 
warm and cuddly fortress.

The boy seemed quite unable to speak.  He merely stood, admiring them 
with impossibly large golden eyes.

"Ran," he who had been attacked finally began.  "This is Yaten.  
Yaten..." His eyes narrowed in a bit of a threatening manner.  "This is 
my BOYFRIEND Ran."

Yaten promptly broke back into his histrionics. "OH NOOOOOOOOOO! No one 
told me! I'm so sorry Ken-chan! I'm soooooo sorry! I didn't mean to! 
It's just been... so long! SO very long! No no no! I'm bad! I'm evil! I 
should go punish myself at the villa! No one will forgive nene-Yaten!"

"Well," Ken began, rolling his eyes.  "I forgive you.  I don't know 
about Ran though."

"You...do?" His latest cessation of tears came just as quickly as any of 
the showers had begun, leaving them to wonder if he perhaps had a 
button in his back pocket which he or some fourth party was pressing on 
and off.  He pulled a pink lace hankie from his back pocket and mopped 
his face with it before blowing his nose with many a loud gurgle.  
"You're too kind to me, entirely too kind! Oooooooooooh Yaten no baka! 
Baka baka baka!"

As he proceeded to launch himself on a speech citing all of the reasons 
which made him a "baka" many of which had to do with bedroom matters 
that no one in the general vicinity had any vested interest in, Ken 
leaned over to his sweetheart, and tried to make a more coherent 
explanation.

"Umm... Yaten's a tailor.  I met him here a few years ago.  We had 
dinner.  Once.  Nothing else, and not of my derision.  It was a 
disaster.  He's been trying to make it up to me ever since..."

/Unfortunately./  

(Second OOC: Nene- girlie and he referred to himself with his name, 
which is childish.)

***

Ran's arm remained across Ken's shoulder, as did the disapproving 
glare and his own mortification--which had, in fact, doubled in the 
few minutes since Yaten had launched into his sobbing tirade.  

"Well, if he wants to make amends, he can find some other way to do 
it...Ken-*chan*."

/I certainly could have done without hearing about his sexual issues./

/I could have done without being subjected to such a disgraceful 
public display, for that matter./

"What's he trying to prove anyway?" he muttered.    

Ran loosened his hold on Ken at last, sliding his arm back until his 
hand met his shoulder, and there it hung.  

"If you are quite through making a scene," he said in a distinctly 
chilly voice, "we would like to buy some clothes."  

***

Ken began to fidget very uncomfortable at his rather girlie nickname he 
had so hoped had been forgotten in his extended absence.  His own hand 
clamped down on Ran's as he rested on his shoulder.  "I have no idea..." 
he finally sighed.  "I doubt he does."

However, at the word 'clothes' Yaten's speech came to a screeching 
halt, thus ended the rather long schpeel of childish synonyms for 
"penis" that were bombarding the local air supply.  "Clothes? Oh you 
came to see me for clothes?"

"Well... uh..." In an effort to avert any future waterworks, he lied.  
"Yes! We certainly did!"

"Well, you've come to the right place, girlfriends!"

/^_^;;;;;;;;;;/

Yaten at this pulled back quite a few steps, and laying a finger aside 
of his cheek, inspected their current garb.  "Oh, you're both just 
disastrous."

"Yaten..."

"Mmm...?"

"We like to dress this way.  We like to be inconspicuous."

"Oh! Oh! I can do inconspicuous!"

And without another word, he seized them both by the hands an hauled 
them into the nearest store.  

Ken mouthed to his stricken sweetheart- I'm sooooooo sorry. 

***

The moment his feet crossed the threshold, Ran jerked his hand free 
of Yaten's, and he shot him another forbidding look.  

"I am no one's 'girlfriend' and don't lay so much as a finger on me 
again," he growled.  "Or on Ken."

He stared at their joined hands until Yaten released Ken, throwing 
his hands up dramatically, and rolling his eyes.  "My, Ken-chan!  You 
have gotten yourself a possessive one, haven't you?  Just like..."  
He made a grimace, and some vague gesture and then wiggled off across 
the glowing, rose-colored floor, leaving a scowling Ran and his 
beloved behind.  

"I am not...!"  

Ran looked over at Ken then, fretting and studying him for a moment, 
then, with a look towards the retreating shopkeeper, lay his hand on 
his shoulder again.  Leaned in close to whisper, "I'm not trying to 
restrain you.  You...You can do as you please, just as you always 
have..."  He bit his lip, then brushed a quick kiss on his cheek and 
pulled away.  

"Yeah, I'm a bit possessive of you, but I'm not like going to treat 
you like...he did.  Never." 

With that, he jammed his hands down in his pockets and set off after 
Yaten.  

***

Ken hung for a moment at the threshold where he had been dropped, one 
hand pressed to the infatescimle traces of Ran's most recent kiss, as 
if trying to keep it from flitting away.  His own lips hung somewhat 
slack.

/He bussed you in public./

/Kaze never... oh! Stupid him! Always coming up and biting us! Just when 
we don't need it... poor Ran! Poor Ya-... no, he was never poor./

/Poor me!/

/No! Stop it Ken! You're starting to sound like that flame-thrower 
already, and what? Are your feet glued to the fucking floor?/

"Ran!" he cried, taking off across the shop floor. If he hadn't already 
been thoroughly enchanted by his boyfriend's crimson tresses, he was 
now, not to mention grateful, for they made him quite easy to discern 
among the sea of mauve he had descended into.  He came up behind him 
and threaded his arms through the loops of his, giving him a little 
squeeze and returned whisper.  

"I happen to like it when you're like that.  It makes me feel safe..."

Yaten went on perching the virtues of several decidedly tacky 
ensembles.  "But the FAAAA-Bulous thing about this color is that it 
matches both of your eyes! Now I happen to thing umm... what's-your-name? 
Oh, right, JAN, would..."

"Yaten?"  

"Look just wokin' in silk, but that's me all over isn't it? As for you, 
I'm quite sure that..."

"Yaten?"

"Velvet all around, preferably the crushed sort and the more ruffles 
the better not to mention..."

"NENE-YATEN!"    

The poor fellow quite up and dropped his armload of shiny garb, turning 
towards them with a miffed and heart-wrenched face.  "Yes'm?" 

"When I said we preferred inconspicuous things... I meant that.  I'm 
sorry but I did, now for the love of GOD! Can you please find us 
something inconspicuous!"

And then, hands flying to his forehead either to prepare to leap into 
his ears, stave off a headache, or hide his eyes...

"Please?"

"... oh, alright.  The boring stuff is over here..."

***

Grumbling, Ran slunk after Yaten, who was listlessly gesturing at the 
corner where all the 'boring stuff' had been relegated.  Racks of T-
shirts, dress shirts, sweaters, jeans, etc.  The sorts of things they 
both were used to wearing.  

Not that that sort of thing was important to Yaten.  He flicked 
rather disdainfully through a rack of sweaters.  "Hmmm...There's 
these," he said, glancing down at the sweater around Ran's waist with 
a sneer.  "Seems to be your sort of style, Dan."

"Its. Ran.  R-A-N."

"Oh.  Right.  Whatever."  Yaten waved a hand dismissively in his 
direction, missing the sharp, you're-two-seconds-away-from-being-
pounded look the redhead gave him in reply.  "I take it you'll want 
some of these?"

"I'll decide what I want without your tiresome commentary."

Yaten sighed heavily, and crossed his arms over his be-ruffled 
chest.  "I hate customers like you!" he cried, stamping his 
foot.  "No sense of style at all!"

"I didn't come in here for 'style'.  I came in here..."

Yaten waved a hand impatiently at him.  "Skip it.  I...I just can't 
bear it!" he exclaimed, and pinching the bridge of his nose, he 
pranced away.  Ran wasn't all that sorry to see him go.  

After Yaten had disappeared behind the rose quartz beaded curtain at 
the back, Ran gave Ken a little smile.  "Peace at last."  

***
 
"I love you..." said Ken.  "I just... love you." And the he heaved a sigh, 
taking a moment to straighten his back a bit.  No one was watching so 
he stretched far enough to let his scars pop out for a moment.  "Well, 
that was Yaten.  He used to dress me, actually..."

And taking a much more serious look through the rack of sweaters, 
"...hence my needing new clothes."

And with that, for a bit of a joke, he pulled an emerald green cardigan 
out from behind several black ones and held it up to Ran, playfully 
smoothing the fabric against his form.  "As for you... get whatever you 
want.  I cleaned out my bank account before I left so I'm more or less 
loaded, and since this whole thing was my idea, I'm paying.  Should 
probably get at least one formal thing though... even though you probably 
won't find a suit on all of Terra.  It's all period formal wear... and 
dresses..."

/Not that you'd look bad in one but please tell me you took that as a 
joke.../

***

"He used to dress you?  And you decided to come back to his shop 
anyway?"  Ran quirked a brow at him.  "You ARE brave."    

With a tiny smile, and an adamant shake of his head, Ran took the 
green cardigan from Ken and hung it back up, selecting in its stead a 
nubbly, dark grey pullover.  He held it up to himself, and turned to 
face the mirror.  The color made his hair look redder, and his skin 
paler (something he didn't think was possible), but it was rather 
somber. 

But then, so was he.   

"I guess some habits are hard to break."  This said with a rueful 
little smile.  Nevertheless, Ran removed the hanger and draped the 
sweater over his shoulder, and, after pulling out a navy blue tunic 
sweater from the cluster, moved over to the dress shirts.  One by one 
he shuffled through them, until he came upon a pale blue one.  This 
he held up to himself.

"So I'll need something formal to wear as well?  I've never had 
anything like that.  I've never seen the use in such things, 
but...Since you say so, I'll buy something."  He walked over to Ken 
and held the shirt up to him. 

"But not anything too expensive, because I don't want to spend much 
of your money."

Ran leaned in a little closer then, a teasing little spark in his 
eyes.  "And if anyone's going to wear a dress, it should be you.  You 
have nicer legs than I do."  

***

"Do I now?" Ken chuckled and took a little peek at himself in the 
nearest mirror, his boyfriend leaning so very close, draping him with 
the little fragment of sky.  "I think you're just flattering me."

/They're not exactly feminine legs, after all.../

/But then again, who says you have to already look all femmy to wear 
femmy clothes...?/

With a little toss of his head, he returned this sudden and refreshing 
catch of light in Ran's eyes.  "But just the same..." A wink as he eased 
the blue shirt from it's hanger, draping it over his own arm before 
shuffling off to another corner of the store, leaving one rather 
puzzled companion behind.  

He snatched up the nearest article that happened to be suited to his 
rebuttal joke, flashed it at the clerk and headed into the dressing 
room, where he donned it with a speed even the most obsessed, manic 
woman shopper would have envied, hiked it down over his bottom and 
padded back onto the shopping floor, shrugging and trying not to grin.

/I forgot how much these things pinch.../

He happened to have fished from the more than ample supply of ladies 
dinner wear a royal purple cocktail dress with off the shoulder sleeves 
and a ruffly little skirt that wore a big floppy bow over the base of 
his back. 

To make matters worse though, he had accidentally managed to pose in 
the thing, with his knees knocked together like a schoolgirl since he 
had, after all, skipped out that morning after omitting his underwear.

That being the reason for his faint flush.   

***

***

Arms folded comfortably across his chest, hand half-hiding his 
smiling face, Ran took in the sight presented to him.  Ken's 
awkwardness made him look even more appealing than usual.  Very 
appealing--right up to the rosy tint to his cheeks.  

"I never thought you'd do it," he whispered, casting a look at the 
clerk, who wasn't paying them the least bit of attention.  "But I'm 
not exactly sorry you did..."

Ran dropped his hands to his sides, and began to circle his 
companion, daring to brush against the back of one thigh, the curve 
of his back.  Dropped a quick kiss on one bare shoulder before coming 
to stand in front of him again.  Smiled adoringly down into those 
bright blue eyes.  

"I told you you had nice legs--strong and lean.  And purple rather 
suits you."

He slipped his hands around Ken's waist, and gave him a shy 
kiss.  "Maybe you should buy this one...For, er...private parties."  

"Very, very private parties."  

***

As a general rule, kept boys seldom enjoy the phrase, "private 
parties".  

/At least for me, it always meant a cold champagne bottle going up my.../

Ken shuddered to himself, and sure enough, frightened the two hand upon 
him away.  He didn't notice at once, being not only somewhat frightened 
by the memory places he did not at all care to feel as chilly being 
more than that.

/Did Ran just... suggest we... umm... he wants to... I.../

/Yeah, like he just wants to sit around and admire you./

/I don't know if I could deal with that! Let alone.../

/But I... it's not I don't... I mean it sounds fine and all but.../

He laughed and banished his worries.  Giggled more like it.  

/Aw geeze, I put on one lousy dress and here I go./

Not to mention sacheted back over towards Ran, his hands clasped behind 
his back.  "Well... maybe just for you."  A little flick of his bottom 
and he leaned up, rubbing his nose to his boyfriend's in apology.  Part 
of him wishing for the courage to do more for the time being; missing 
the tickle of the hand on his legs.  The other glad this was all he 
could muster.

/Well, for now... I'm sorry Ran.  I am... probably always./

"But on one condition." He added, holding up one finger between their 
faces.  He chuckled through his lines though.  Somewhere in the 
distance, Yaten could be heard pulling out his hair over someone else's 
faux pas.

"You have to get one too."

***

Ran didn't smile, as to do so would mean having to force it on his 
face.  It wasn't that he didn't want to dress up, in fact, he rather 
did, and it struck him as kind of amusing--not to mention kind of 
sexy.  

Problem was that he knew he had made a mistake.  He had come on like 
Youji, as ignorant as the damnable virgin that he was, and nearly 
ruined everything.  

Ran wanted to reach for him again, but he kept his hands at his 
sides.  Smiled a little at him at last, though sadly.  

"Okay, Ken.  I'll get a dress too.  Um...Why don't you pick one out 
for me?"  

/I said the wrong thing, and I scared you.  Damn it!/

/What's so laughable is that I have no idea how to go about seducing 
you.  I don't know...Anything, and you're afraid of me./

Hands in his pockets, Ran walked over to where Ken was thumbing 
through the racks, two gowns draped over his arm and apparently going 
for at least one more.  Quietly he watched him, and then, yearning to 
make amends, and not bothering to keep his voice so low as before 
(since Yaten's screaming provided enough of a cover), said, "I didn't 
mean anything.  I...didn't think.  I just..."  

"Look, I said I would wait, and I will, Ken.  I can't help how I 
feel, but...I don't want you to be afraid of me...I..."  

Feeling foolish suddenly (and painfully aware he was rambling), Ran 
lowered his gaze to the gowns in Ken's hands, and held one arm out, 
desperate to get things back on a more cheerful footing.  

"Here.  I'll go try them on."  

***

When Ran's hand reached for the sheaf of dresses, Ken snatched it up 
and rubbed the fingers.  Pressed them to his hip and felt them clench 
in his ruffles.

"You're not the one who needs to relax.  It's me..." Not a touch of dolor 
in his words, rather a mild sort of ruing, as if he'd been chewing his 
nails again.

/Let's hope this doesn't end up lasting THAT long./

/Or being that constant./

/Don't think I'm not... I'm not as upset as you are but I.../

/What can I do but smile? What can we do but be happy... just for now./

"I am going to act a little nervous sometimes.  I can't help it.  I'm 
trying, but obviously it's not working.  No need for you to apologize 
every time you brush against me.  C'mon, Ran! It's not you I'm afraid 
of!"

/And maybe if I tell the truth of the moment, you'll... feel better about 
it.../

"...it's getting a freezing cold champagne bottle up my butt.  Kay?"

Maybe it was him, but had the shrieking chatter coming from Yaten's 
direction faltered a moment at that point.  Ran's eyes had certainly 
grown larger.  He shrugged.  /That should take care of your nasty Kaze 
fix for awhile./ "You'd never do anything like that."

"And let's face it.  You did mean something.  You were trying to show 
me you cared and I... I was being me, sadly."

/God, I wish I could stop and just rub your shoulders for an hour or 
two, right here, like no one was around.  You're so tense... and it's my 
fault./

Suggested as he rocked back on his heels. "So how about you gimme a 
little kiss to show me its alright and go try on your pretty things?"

***

The kiss Ran gave Ken was a hasty one, and then he was gone. 

/Okay, so I kissed you./

/But it's still not all right, is it?/

Ran walked over to the dressing rooms, glaring towards the beaded 
curtain when he heard a Yaten-like titter. 

"Oh, shut up."

He disappeared behind the one of the opaque rose-colored shower 
curtains which served as screens for the closet size dressing rooms, 
and, flicking the curtain shut behind him, proceeded to change 
clothes. 

/I don't know what the fuck to do anymore./

/Maybe I shouldn't bother? Shouldn't try the whole cheesy seduction 
thing?/

/After all, I am NOT Youji. I'm only me./

/Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck./ 

/He's screwed up and hurting and I have no clue.../

/God! I want to smash something.../

/But I'd look damn silly doing it now./

With a deep breath, Ran left the cubicle and peered at his reflection 
in the full length mirror at the end of the try-on area. Frowned, 
and blushed, and rolled his eyes. His heart wasn't in it anymore, 
wasn't really into anything at the moment. 

Nevertheless, he tugged and smoothed down the beaded, sleeveless, 
long black satin gown, and walked out to meet his lover, a cutting 
jibe on his tongue and ready for Yaten and his prissy 
little 'girlfriends'. 

***

 (OOC: Please let me know if you want any of these posts re-written.  
The thing is, I wrote the 'really hard' scene for Schu-baby, promptly 
passed out, woke up after dinner, was just having some ice cream, went 
to squirt the last of the chocolate whipped cream into my mouth and got 
a big gush of nitrous oxide instead... Oooh...)

"Oooh! Girl! Look at that one!"

"Hot stuff, comin' through."

"Hey, honey-pie! You free around eight? I got a bottle of Asti with 
your name on it."

Whistling.

Ran had just turned the color of cherry sundae syrup when Ken finally 
managed to point out that Yaten and company were busy ogling a trio of 
much younger fellows all lost beneath spandex hotpants and ostrich-
feather laden hats.  Not to mention nothing else.  

As for Ken then, he came skipping up to his boyfriend, curtsied, and 
swept him over to one of the long, bevel set mirrors that lines the 
outside of the store.

/Two assassins in evening gowns.   What a pair, what a pair indeed./

Though he couldn't help but taste hard feelings in Ran's reflection.  
Was it about the dress? The man who'd first put him in a dress? 

Him?

He shook his head, and reached one arm around his boyfriend... no, 
neither of them looked dreadfully feminine, at least not in a genuine 
sense.  They looked like a pair of skinny boys gone through their 
sister's things for a lark.

Not that Ran didn't come off as dark and dangerously cute.  His slim 
legs and knobby little knees, his tiny, narrow hips. 

/You looks like you don't eat.../

The way his eartails brushed against his bare collar bone.  And none of 
this... no, he didn't look like a girl.

Or a boy really.

And not of something in between.  No, somehow he came off as some 
graceful ethereal being, not of this sphere, the next or last.  Perhaps 
rather of girl's comics and the dreams of haunted boys who cried alone 
at night.  Nothing and everything, ivory bound in midnight.

"You make me feel like I could write poetry..."

***

(ooc:  Are you kidding?  I certainly do NOT want you to rewrite any 
 of these posts.  Ken's was touching & funny.  Omi's was funny & and 
 lustful.  And Schuldich's...:holds up full drool bucket for Aoi-chan 
 to see:

 And I rather laughed out loud when I read that you were a bit strung 
 out on nitrous oxide when you wrote them.  Sorry if that was a bit 
 insensitive to do. :P)  

 Ken's remark caught Ran off guard; made him forget the three lustful, 
 screeching magpies.  It was just Ken and himself then, all done up in 
 ruffles and beads.  He lifted a hand to nervously twirl one dangling 
 eartail, but clasped his arm instead.  

 "Poetry?  Me?"

 /I.../

 /I wish I could be as glib as you.../

 /I wish I could tell you...everything of my heart, and beautifully./

 /But instead, I only get it all wrong./  

 Self-consciously, he folded his arms across his chest, and tried very 
 hard to frown at his satin-clad twin--tried and failed when he caught 
 the reflection of Ken's adoration in the mirror.  He stared at those 
 twinkling blue eyes until they met his, and there they stood in 
 silent communication for many sighing moments.  

 Then Ran relaxed; forced himself to do it.  His arms unfolded and his 
 shoulders fell back into their natural line, and he reached out and 
 took one of Ken's hands in his own.  Kissed the fingertips, then the 
 back of it without lowering his gaze from his beloved's.  

 "Then I guess this is the gown I should buy."

***

Ken nodded enthusiastically.  "I won't let you settle for less." But he 
didn't just then tug his fingers away from those apologetic lips.  He 
smoothed them, cradled them with his fingers.

/Now if only I could make good on that... that I could write you a poem./

/I can't... well, not a good one at least./

/And it'd make you kinda sad, wouldn't it? Everything does.  You make 
yourself sad, you make me sad.../

/I think... it's hard to say.  But I like it, I do./

Arm thrown over his boyfriend's shoulder, he walked him back into the 
dressing room, the curtains of which only just hid them from the 
appearance of the gilt gaze of Yaten, whose jaw detached allowing him 
to emit a high pitched soap-opera queen shriek of... well, of something. 

"Why I don't believe it!" he wailed at last, feigning a swoon into the 
arms of an incidental hunk, who pushed him away...

Ken just pulled on his old jeans and the one Hawaiian shirt he had 
taken any fancy to- a rather subdued green and grey thing, though of 
one closely observed the pattern, it was revealed to be of pineapple 
trees, which for reasons unknown also contained koalas.  

Either way, it covered his scars.  The only problem came as he made his 
way to the counter, and was obliged to lean over it for the clerk- the 
half-dressed Yaten-following clerk -to scan and remove the price tag.  
Yaten himself had vanished in a flurry of rayon somewhere... 

***

Ran had followed Ken to the service counter, items in hand, and had 
plopped them down for the bare-chested, mini-skirted boy.  Then, 
leaning against the red and pink sequined wall, he bemusedly wondered 
over Ken's shirt.  It was so odd, yet so cute.  So Ken.  A little 
smile graced his lips...  

Which promptly faded when said garment rode up, and Ran was offered 
the horrid sight of scars crisscrossing Ken's lower back.  Blemishes 
which disappeared under the edge of the shirt.  He reached out to 
touch them, to push the shirt up further and confirm one of the worst 
fears of his sinking heart, but he stopped himself, hand jerked tight 
in a fist.  Now was not the time or the place, and the last thing he 
wanted to do at all was humiliate Ken.  Kaze had done enough of 
that.  

/I couldn't protect Aya, but I will protect you./

/No one will ever hurt you again.  I swear it./  

Ran took the metallic mauve-and-fuchsia swirled plastic garment bag, 
and snaked an arm around Ken's shoulders--Yaten and his boys and his 
own ingrained Japanese reserve be damned.  

"Where do you want to go now, Ken?" he asked, half-whispering.  

***

"Well..." Schuldich sighed, combing the hair of his borrowed workman 
behind his ears.  "Looks like I got dressed for nothing." And with 
that, yanked off his scarf and tank top, carelessly casting them in 
vaguely the same direction as Nagi's jeans.  The remaining maintenance 
men hooted and whistled until silenced by a quick, miffed look from 
him, one that quickly degenerated into an ear to ear smile, which 
itself fell into a little moan.  

The boy between his legs looked up apologetically, only to have his 
head petted.  

"Oh, off with your pants too.  I'm sure Brad won't mind."

The other clapped silently this time and threw thumbs up signs rather 
than make any noise.  Their young companion had himself undressed in a 
matter of seconds.

/Wow... he really doesn't have any ass to speak of... nice pink nipples 
though.../

/Ah well.../

With a matter of snapping fingers, the elder telepath sent him after 
the cock ring, which once presented to him, he hastily donned himself, 
before kneeling down, taking the boy with him, still petting his face.

"Well, if Bradley gets all those toys, I don't see why I can't have 
you.  But he insists I share, you know."

The boy nodded, leaning up for a quick kiss that turned of course, into 
a rather long kiss.  

"Why don't you go kiss him where you've been kissing me?" 

The worker boy rolled over beside Crawford, his hands tapping only his 
hips at first, as if he was made of ice, and so might burn with cold.  
The two of them twisted him away from Nagi until his head rested in the 
crook of Schuldich's arm.  Together they began to undress him with 
flighty, coy strokes of their fingers, certain small flickers of which 
betrayed a light hold between them, maintained by the softly grinning 
redhead.  Once they had him suitably bare, facing the spot where they 
meant to set up their scene, Schuldich's toy offered himself to 
Bradley's stiffness, and his temporary master seized Nagi around the 
chest, roughly grazing the boy's nipples.

"Like this?" he asked, smoothing one under his palm.  "Or more like..." 
the other arm came around and snatched up one of his legs, dragging the 
space between them wide open before sliding into it.  One of the 
watchers smirked and kicked the vibrator over within reach, and the 
telepath snatched it up with a nod and a blown kiss.

He did not, however, stuff it into Nagi as would have been expected.  
He merely whistled a moment, toying with the speed control, making the 
telekinetic watch, and then he grasped it with one bent finger crossing 
the top.

And then pushed it into him, just far enough to hide the tip, knuckle 
and all.

"...this?"

***

Nagi's head lolled back on Schuldich's shoulder, mouth open in a 
little 'o' and panting.  He reached around and snagged his fingers in 
Schuldich's wild mane, seeking the back of his neck.  He had done his 
rebelling, had resisted, but he just couldn't take it anymore.    

/Please...please Schuldich...Don't tease me.../

He slit his eyelids open to watch the boy lap at Crawford.  

/Just do it.  Do *me*./

Crawford just grinned at the sight of his ward, writhing and half-
sobbing on Schuldich's lap, and petted the head of his skinny boy.  
His head, back and ass.  Traced the bones and thin muscles, a rapt 
expression on his face.  

/He's not you, Schuldich, oh no./

He thrust upward suddenly, and heard the boy gag.  Tentative fingers 
crept over his thighs to cup his hips as if he thought he could hold 
him still.  

/But he'll do in a pinch./ 

"Pretty, pretty boy," he said, watching his head bob and sway, and 
giving one cheek a hard squeeze.  "I wonder...if you let me play with 
you too?" 

***

Schuldich, just to prove he had let go of his plaything, set about 
dipping his tongue into Nagi's silently begging mouth.  As for said 
plaything, he sat up a bit, revealed his pale grey eyes to be somewhat 
slick, though not with apparent sadness.  He ran his steady, rough 
hands over Crawford's cheek.  "Sure you can.  I'd like that..." a little 
laugh.  "Very much."

As for the redhead, he abruptly revoked the vibrator from his lover's 
ward, producing a frustrated little squeak he rather attempted to quiet 
with another intrusion of his fingers.  "Well," he told their borrowed 
work boy, "I'm SURE we can find somewhere to put you.  In fact..."

With that, he reclined lazily, scooping Nagi up between his legs, and 
saying to him.  "I seem to remember Bradley asking to see you do 
something to me... if you remember what that was, I'm sure our friend 
here would be willing to make use of that cherry lube."

The Japanese boy blinked, took a deep breath as if about to dive, and 
swallowed Schuldich whole, his teeth fully exposed to his tender skin.  
The telepath caught his breath and moaned, falling back down to the 
carpet with its patches of cool beeswax, his hair splayed about, 
finding his lover's fingers in it.  But the boy writhed then, giving a 
little cry and a few tears as the visitor mounted and entered him, 
flopping down over his smooth back, and reaching down to mop at his 
eyes and nibble his ears.

Schuldich couldn't claim to care.  He just laid back, smiled, and 
enjoyed Crawford's erotic little gape.

***

Crawford sat back to watch, one hand stroking himself gently, and the 
other combing through Schuldich's hair, smoothing it out into a fan 
across the carpet.  

"Oh, dear.  What will I do?  So many possibilities..."

His hand left Schuldich's hair to pet his chest, toy with his erect 
nipples.  He pinched and stroked them alternately, riveted to the 
sight of Nagi so avidly loving his redhead with his tongue.  He 
throbbed with every moan, every gasp.  

"I fear I'm in danger of being neglected.  That will never do."

That said, he took up the banana flavored lube and coated himself 
heavily, then moved over behind their young visitor, and, after a 
moment's consideration, pulled him back and away, making both of them 
cry out.  Brad gathered the boy in his arms, and petted his hair.  

"Oh, I know, he's a temptation, isn't he?  Both of them are."  

He ran his hand down the boy's thin chest, down his stomach, stopping 
just short of his groin and making him arch in silent pleading.  Brad 
only ignored him.  "And you are rather appealing too..."

"Unfortunately, this is Nagi's punishment.  And what kind of father 
would I be if I didn't participate?"  

With that, Brad flipped the boy on his back, and grasped his sex with 
one still-slick hand.  Grinned down at his flushed face.  "Don't 
worry though, boy.  You'll still get to play some more."  

"And," he added as he abruptly thrust into Nagi, gasping, and arching 
his head back at the feeling of being so tightly encased in warm, 
pliable flesh.  "Luckily...for you...I can do two things...at once."  

***

"Yes, Crawford is an amazing when it comes to multi-shirking." 
Schuldich laughed, reaching around Nagi to tickle Bradley with his 
toes.  Though neither Bradley nor Nagi seemed dreadfully amused by the 
gratuitous show of his flexibility.  

"Very luckily!" The boy gasped, his eyes rolling back in his head as he 
trembled in the precognitive's grasp, and all but collapsed there, his 
whole body rocking back and forth with the caresses he had been 
granted.

One of the other workman didn't quite manage to stifle a cry as a 
second reached over and gave him a squeeze, starting to undo his zipper 
to get at him.

Schuldich heaved himself up on his elbows and reprimanded them both.  
"Just because we're letting you jerk off on our couch doesn't mean 
you're allowed to permanently stain our couch now I..." Nagi lurched 
forward under a particularly hard thrust.  "Aie... oh... oh... Well, you 
people get the idea!"

The maintenance worker's pants were shortly thereby resealed.  The 
redhead, however, found himself not particularly inclined to lie back 
down.  Rather, he found the body between him and his lover small enough 
to curl between the two of them, and did so, feeling his cock slide all 
the way to the back of the thin and delicate throat, along with the 
ministrations of Bradley's tongue in his own mouth, as he reached over 
to kiss him.  

A short jerk to the arm, and their borrowed boy joined in, three hot, 
damp faces pressed together, lips weaving into one another.  Did 
Crawford hear his little finger snap, see him point? No, Crawford's 
eyes were closed and he kissed them.

/What a little devil indeed but I... oh damnit!/

The finger snaps had been intended to direct their new toy over to the 
thusfar neglected blue dildo, and to have him plunge it into Bradley's 
unguarded bottom.  However, Schuldich, who had rocked onto his knees 
for better kissing leverage, read the intention to relocate it the 
moment it formed.

/Well, not what I had in mind./

The maintenance boy smirked awfully- /You're the one I want, pretty 
little long haired thing.../

::Don't call me little.::

And still, though doubtless surprised by the voice in his head, he 
pierced the original object of his affection with the sex toy, which he 
wiggled back and forth as roughly as he could.

Schuldich grumbled into Bradley's mouth.

(OOC: Multi-shirking: Dilbert-related term referring to the ability to 
do more than one non-work-related task at once and still appear busy.)

***

Crawford only pulled away long enough to see just what had happened 
to cause his lover to grumble so, and when he did, he smiled.  Leaned 
forward with one hand twisted in Schuldich's mane and resumed his 
plunder of his redhead's mouth.  Felt him jerk with every thrust.  

/I think I'm jealous./  

/He gets to play with your marvelous ass./

/Not that Nagi isn't adorably fuckable, but then, he isn't you./  

He pulled away again, choosing to simply lock gazes with him instead 
of tongues.  One hand still in his hair to hold him there.  

/I don't know what I like more:  Watching someone make you cum, or 
watching you cum whilst you're lying under me.  Or on top of me.  Or 
in front of me.../

/But this is almost like I'm having you...Only our sex toys this time 
are sentient and breathing./  

Crawford curled his hand tighter around Nagi's hip, hard enough to 
bruise, and increased the speed of his thrusts, images tumbling 
through his head, both fantasy and precognitive.  

And then, with a low, pitiful moan, he came.  Slammed into him until 
he was drained, then pulled out, none too gently, making Nagi cry out 
around his mouthful.  

Brad sank to a sitting position, caressing the firm wrigging globes 
in front of him and watching Schuldich sink even further into the 
throes of passion.  

Then he rose to his knees again, and kissed his lover desperately, 
his hands stealing around Nagi's waist to brazenly stroke him to 
orgasm.  Timed his caresses to the thrusts of Schuldich's hips 
against the boy's mouth, and made Nagi whimper and moan, all sounds 
muffled.  

***

::Braaaaa~~~~~~~~D! I wanted your dick!:: Schuldich's mind whined into 
his lover's as loud as he could make it.  Bradley merely grinned and 
pinched his nose bridge long enough to loose touch with the henna red 
threads he'd wound around his fingers.

Nagi moaned again, his lips loosening up enough that some saliva ran 
from them and onto his balls with a maddening tickle that made his 
stiffness throb.

::But you want to see me cum? Would that make you happy?::

A particularly vicious kiss passed between them rather than an answer.  

The borrowed boy's eyes shortly glazed over, as did Schuldich's, though 
his retained a certain glimmer, as if they could yet see.  But not of 
the present world.  Their mutual sex toy cast aside the dildo and 
pressed himself close as he could to the telepath, letting his arms 
creep about his waist, into Nagi's hair- rubbing his nipples to his 
shoulder blades as he started to take him with a pained slowness.  

::Let me draw this out for you... far as I can.::

Then with a jerk of his arms, he tugged Nagi free from him, and wrapped 
his legs around his own body, and that of the maintenance worker, 
leaving their crotches pressed tight to each other, their hands tangled 
around each other's members.

And then he raped his mouth with his own, harder and harder, grinding 
back and fourth between these two mere children.

::But was I not a child when you took me? No, I was never a child.::

But he made sure to sob like one when he came, even though there were 
no tears on his face.  Nagi had cried himself out.  The boy had a few 
left.  Regardless, they all fell to a panting heap, fingers and tongues 
reaching for colorless drips...

***

Ken wondered... which felt better? Which seemed right? His hand on Ran's 
shoulder, and Ran's arm around his back, or this other way around, 
which found him made the one... covered.  The sweet one of the pair.  The 
watched one.

Both fashions had their feelings.  Cradling Ran's shoulder to his own 
brought upon him the peculiar melancholy that the red-haired boy wore.  
But tucked under it himself.  Oh, that made him proud and so faintly 
distant.  Watching that intense beauty, rather than sinking into it.

No, he would never make up his mind, would he?

"Well," he whispered back, half giggling.  "I'd like to take you to the 
Hyacinth Villa here, just to show you.  If that's OK."

A little nod, that he raised his eyes too, trying to hint a little at 
just what an undertaking this might be.  For one's senses.  Anyone's.  
Such a light answer... but he grinned and snuggled up for a second as 
they turned a corner into the main hall and slid past the lilac bushes 
which Ran seemed to be watching intently.  Looking for eyes.

But it was morning of course, and no one with any Terran sense would be 
about them so early.

***

Ran hugged him close again, giving him a little smile, and then sank 
back into the morass of his thoughts.  

/I wish I hadn't left all my money, now.  I would have bought you 
something./

/But then, if I had a job.../

/I wonder if it would be possible for me to work./

/It's going to seem so odd if I can't.  I don't know if I could stand 
to be a man of leisure./

"Ken?" he asked, neatly steering them both past a particularly 
overgrown lilac bush.  "What sort of place is this Villa?  I remember 
that Yaten telling you he should go punish himself there, and--"

Ran's voice died away, and his pace slowed, for there, just off to 
the left of the great hall, loomed an impressive mansion behind a 
high, black wrought iron, gated fence.  Done in the Italianate style, 
of what looked to be marble.  Ran couldn't really tell, however, for 
the color of the structure kept changing from of pure white to dewy 
pink to lavender to powder blue, all in the softest hues and in 
gradual shifts; blink and you'd miss it.  

"Is...that it?"  

***

Ken nodded and spent a few moments, still upon the floor, taking in the 
sight with his lover... a mansion indoors beneath of catacomb of glass 
and powdery white stone to which were pressed the bows of two grand 
oaks.  It looked like they were in a snowglobe of sunshine from here.

The hall, however, proved curiously empty.  Not of people, but rather 
of sound, for those who passed did so in silence- smiling, blushing... 
whispering now and again.  As if it was forbidden to talk within view 
of that grand house.

Which it wasn't of course.  "You have to see, Ran.  I don't like saying 
it out loud.  It doesn't sound right.  Soooo... let's go!"

Their arms still twined about one another, they began to approach the 
gate once more, though he still felt, despite their slowness, taken to 
add.  "We don't have to stay long... I wanted to show you, that's it."

/And I doubt I could over-reassure you, I really do./

But he took a moment to ring the string of glass chimes about the gate, 
which summoned forth from nowhere in particular a woman in a white 
palla, her hair bound with gold and blue ribbons around her dainty 
shoulders.

"Hidaka-dono! What a pleasant surprise!" She exclaimed with a bow.

Ken blushed.  He honestly had no idea who she was... and would probably 
have to accustom himself to such encounters... the thought was not one 
he enjoyed.

"I thought you would be concerned already with your Villa.  What an 
honor to have you here!"

"Umm... thanks and all, but I was just wondering if I could, you know, 
look around."

"I'm sure the one in Valdemar isn't in such bad shape you'd have to 
take lessons from us." Her voice had finally calmed, and rather blushed 
at this herself.  Ok, so they found themselves on more equal footing 
with that.

"You never know," A second, somewhat elder but similarly clad herald 
sighed, this one peeling forth from the shade of one of the oaks, and 
coming up to the gate.  Her waist was circled with a brace of golden 
keys, one of which she set to the lock.

"You're so rude!" The first one snapped, and with that, ambled off into 
the depths of the grounds, vanishing again.

Her companion sighed, and pulled the gate aside, ushering them onto the 
sidewalk below her- one that glinted as if set with little transparent 
teeth, so fraught with quartz was it.  She did, however, take notice of 
Ran's rather bemused expression, rude or not.  She might have known 
him, seem him before.  Something about the way she moved, the acting 
behind every tick of her skin... it made her impossible to recall.

"No one here has names, don't ask mine.  I won't ask yours.  Don't ask 
anyone's, in fact..." and then, with her hands set to the amber orbs of 
the mansion's door.  "And since your not paying, don't let me catch you 
taking advantage of the merchandise either."

"I'm not exactly interested..." Ken insisted, wondering if Ran noticed 
the way his fingers had rather tightened against him with that.

"Right..." The woman sighed, closing the doors behind them.

They found themselves rather stranded on a forest green carpet that ran 
the length of a curling entryway, laced with the tendrils of white 
staircases, leading up to new levels of the fresco that twined about 
the wall with the bodies of a thousand lovely boys drenched with 
laurels and each other.  The violet scent remained here, but seemed 
rather physical, wet, new.  Though with some hope to the place, for 
once the source of light could be guessed, no windows here.  Rather 
huge swangs of lead crystal and candle bulbs who split their 
illumination over and over until the hour could not be guessed.

Not that anyone ever minded the hour on Terra.

Ken lead Ran around one of the back halls, their footsteps echoing 
rather markedly as they were the only one's visibly about.  Another 
door, this one unlocked...

"Now this may seem a little strange but... but... well, it's just... 
what they do here."

With that he opened their passageway into a vast and humid room of blue 
beyond.  One dappled with the flexing light of a small pool and a 
hundred Grecian sculptures of white, hung with blooms of white.

Just as white as the hundred or so bare bodies within, lounging 
indolently on pedestals, kicking their feet in the pool or flirting 
with the few dressed people who fluttered about.  The lone fellow from 
their brief time in the office the day before, sat in a corner, a young 
blond strew across his lap.

***

Astonishment lit up Ran's face as he looked around the room, cheeks 
growing warmer and warmer at the sight of all those lissome, naked 
boys being ogled and, in some cases, openly pawed.  He hung beyond 
the threshold, then shrank away to crumple against the wall behind 
the door, head down in an attempt to hide.  

"Let me get this straight.  You, Hidaka Ken, the same boy who hardly 
ever dated; who blushed at Youji's sly innuendo; who's idea of a good 
time was playing soccer with a bunch of kids--you are the new owner 
of a rundown brothel."  

"I...I can't believe this..."  

***

When Youji awoke at last, the afternoon sun had crept through the 
narrow crack between the curtains, and was currently burning a hole 
in his forehead.  Not that was such an unpleasant thing; in fact, 
he'd been awakened in much more brutal ways than that in the past.  

But, he was indeed awake, and felt as if he could drowse for another 
five hours, he was that comfortable.  

And, as a quick grope to his immediate right revealed, he was not 
alone, oh no!  His bed was occupied by a decidedly blond, decidedly 
gorgeous boy.  

/Hmm...This is odd, isn't it, Kudou, waking up for the second time in 
a row with the same person./

/And a male-type person at that./

He yawned noisily, and wriggled a hand through his hair, and blinked 
up at the pale green ceiling.   

/Man, I did NOT see this coming.  I mean...I tried to keep it from 
happening.  I thought I had been successful./

/But apparently.../

/Pity we didn't go to that teahouse before the other night./

He smirked at the memory, and rolled onto his side, wrapping his arm 
to join the other, slightly tingling one which was draped across Omi's 
back.  Pressed a kiss to his forehead.  

"Omi?  Omi?  It's..." he peered at the clock on the dresser.  "five 
to 3.  Feel like getting up?"

***

Omi shook his head at first, eyes still closed, lips starting to smirk 
though.  "I just got comfy." He fussed.  A sigh of frustration came 
from beside him, and he relished it for all it was, deepened their 
closeness.

/Five to three? I've never slept this late in my WHOLE LIFE./

/Yeah, and up until a few dozen hours ago, you'd never slept with 
anyone either./

Then somewhere in the ringing depths of his thoughts- /That you know 
of.../

And as if trying to shake spider webs from his hair, he sat up, 
shivered deliberately and sighed at the pale green ceiling who seemed 
to want so little to do with him.  Then he reached over, and from his 
half sitting position, tugged Youji' so his lover leaned against the 
edge of his chest, just caught in the crook of his arm.  He kissed his 
hair and nuzzled him.   "Ohayo, itoshi."

***

"Ohayo to you, too, Omi-ai."

Youji closed his eyes against their blue-green seashell surroundings 
and sighed most contentedly.  Yawned, but more quietly this time.  He 
stretched one arm out and came in contact with one slim thigh.  

/Mmm...Now this is the way I like to wake up in the morn--er, 
afternoon./  

"What do you feel like doing today?  Want to explore the property?  
Want to have...lunch?"  He patted Omi's leg fondly.  "I'm game for 
anything."  

***

"Well..." There's something I've always wanted to do...

A swift, playful swat across Youji's head amended the impending naughty 
smirk.

"Not like that! It's something... kinda... rude though.  I don't even 
remember what movie it was, but I saw it when I was a kid and in it 
this bunch of kids they... went for a picnic.  And I've always wanted to 
try that, even if it is silly."

***

"A...Picnic?" 

Youji's fingers drummed along Omi's thigh as he considered his 
boyfriend's proposal.  

"That's kind of unusual.  Kind of silly," he offered in 
agreement.  "The kitchen staff and anyone else who sees will probably 
whisper behind their hands in shock."  

He gestured at the ceiling.  "After all, it's just not done."

A bit of silence fell between them and then Youji rolled over in 
Omi's embrace, and kissed him on the shoulder.  

"But maybe it's about time someone changed all that."  

"Let's go on a picnic."  

***

Omi applauded gaily, leaning down to plat a big, smacky kiss on his 
boyfriend's brow, before bouncing out of bed.  Literally.  Not to 
mention continuing to do so about the room, a sight Youji seemed to 
have no qualms about.  "Ok! Ok! We'll get dressed and have some room 
service sent up and... no, that won't work, because... hmm... no! We'll try 
this..."

He continued to speak, even while rooting around in his suitcase after 
his clothes, though when he did manage to find some, they promptly 
erupted all over the floor.  "I'll go down to the kitchen and ask if 
they can fix us anything to go since we... have an appointment, or 
something, and we won't get anything to eat otherwise." A moment of 
hopping on one foot as he tugged on his khaki cargo pants.  "We'll just 
have to hide it in your duffel to get it outside."

Speaking of Youji's duffle, it shortly discovered itself gutted across 
the floor, adding the sea of silk boxers to stand beside the ocean of 
Omi's peculiar hats on the map of their room.  The boy took a moment to 
dive into them, coming up with two small objects which clanked loudly 
on the dresser.

Aya and Ken's coffee cups.

Omi then slung the duffle over his shoulder, and blew his boyfriend a 
kiss on the way out.  

Only to add to it an embarrassed huff as he returned in search of a 
shirt, his shoes and one of the previously mentioned peculiar hats.  

***

Youji rolled out of bed, chuckling gleefully over Omi's 
forgetfulness.  He scooped up the multi-colored piles of underwear 
and dumped the lot of them into a drawer, scrabbling through them 
until a gleam of pale blue caught his eye.  These he drew back out 
and closed the drawer.  

And then he took notice of the two, unexpected mementos on the 
dresser top, and, with a sad smile, adjusted Ken's so that Pochacco 
could be more clearly seen, and the cup itself closer to Ran's. 

"Seems I'm not the only one who's sentimental around here."

He turned away and picked up his suitcase, rifling through it for a 
likely looking outfit, something more suitable for dining out, and 
came up with an oversized, long-sleeve red t-shirt and a pair of 
faded jeans.  

"Yeah, I know," he said to no one in particular as he donned the 
shirt, and turned to face himself in the mirror, tugging at it here 
and there.  "It's not exactly flashy, but..."  He shrugged, and 
smirked at himself, and finished dressing.  

And then, he too left.  

The grounds were divided into two parts:  The hot springs, and the 
gardens.  Youji found himself at the crossroads between those two 
worlds not long after leaving the building, but he couldn't decide 
which path to take.  Which one would please Omi the most?

So, he leaned up against the iron sign post and waited.  

***

/I'm sure they know what I'm up to.../ Omi thought as he crept down the 
corridors of whispering lovers who seemed to always be bobbing about 
the hotel... lingering like cigarette smoke, glinting in the afternoon 
sun.  

/The way that cook looked at me... I felt so dirty./

An evil little smile.  He heard a woman ask her companion if that poor 
little boy had been groped by anyone he'd just passed.

/Good thing I like dirty./

He peered into the borrowed duffel to examine the sandwiches, make sure 
none of them had sprung a leak as it were, nor any of the other 
toothsome treats within followed suit.  

/We're going to disgrace the hotel for sure./

He found himself in the glistening aura of the lobby once again, the 
woman minding the counters today gracing her fingers with citrine and 
garnet.  He nodded to her, she smiled.

/We're going to have a picnic on grounds!/

His shirt fell from his shoulder once again.  A deep blue one he had 
only too late noticed was, in fact...

...Youji's.

He lifted the satin to his nose and had a long sniff, feeling his heart 
and his loins tingle as the mere aroma of his lover.  His smile became 
tasteless and lopsided.

Until it broke with his laugh to see the true incarnation of his 
beloved.  Standing.  In the clothes of a commoner, leaning against a 
signpost like a waif.   

***

At the sight of his boyfriend, shining like a sapphire in the slowly 
dying afternoon light, Youji smile, and shoved off from his perch, 
hands crawling out of his pockets.  

And then he grinned when it dawned on him that Omi was wearing one 
of his shirts--which looked vastly better on him.  Fetching, in 
fact.  

"And just what are you laughing about?" he asked, bemused, as he bent 
to give him a little kiss.  Stroked the smooth slope of one newly 
exposed shoulder but didn't bother to cover him up.  

Youji slipped his arm around his waist, and led him back down the 
path in the direction of the garden.  Less chance of being discovered 
there, he guessed.

"And just what did you manage to get us to eat, my sneaky little boy?"

***

Omi rocked back against the fingers that had chanced his shoulder, 
rocking into the little embrace that enfolded him as they started down 
the path.  "Well, I've got two sandwiches, but I'm not sure what kind, 
some of the test tempura from this morning, which is mostly shrimp and 
carrot, two cucumber rolls and half a chocolate cake."

He flashed the wondering grin beside him a terrific smile, a thumbs up, 
and a little peek inside the duffel.  "Not to mention tow thermoses of 
tea."

His sandals shortly clattered onto the little wooden bridge that 
spanned the koi pond, and a few streaks of orange darted out on either 
side, startled by the noise and ushering the tadpoles with them, where 
they took up the shade beneath the lilypads instead.  A great grey cat 
sat upon the shore and watched her prey so impudently dart around 
before her feet, though she herself was barely visible within her nest 
of rushes.

Omi knelt down and whispered at her, scratching the grass and she 
started to come to him at first, but the breeze came, and she caught 
his scent.  Not finding it to her liking, she took off, returning twice 
after her two white kittens.

Omi flopped down on his bottom and pouted.

***

Youji came up next to Omi, and crouched down in the grass next to 
him, playfully scrunching down his hat further over his eyes.  "Aw, 
didn't she find you as sweet as I do?" he asked, gently pinching his 
earlobe.  "Poor Omi-ai."  

A low little laugh, and Youji rocked backward and stretched his legs 
out in front of him.  Looked around at their surroundings; the koi 
had returned, and were now hovering around the water's edge, mouths 
opening and closing.  Probably looking for food, and thinking they 
had some to give.  

/Greedy little things,/ Youji thought with a smirk.  /Pretty 
though.  Remind me of a few of my girlfriends.../

"So...You want to set up our picnic here?" Youji asked, sweeping a 
hand over the tickly, tall grass.  "Or, do you want to go elsewhere?  
Say..." He looked about them, and spied in the distance an enormous, 
old weeping willow, its lower branches so long that the leafy tips 
brushed the grassy ground. Sunlight fell in patches through the 
gnarled limbs.  

"What about over there?"  

***

Omi had gotten to his feet before his lover had even finished his 
sentence.  "Over there is perfect!" though by the time he said it, over 
there had become over here.  He flopped back down with his legs knocked 
and pulled up to his chest, quite a contrast to the rather wild leopard 
print he assumed, having placed himself so beneath the flickering 
branches.

"I feel like I'm in a jar," he remarked once Youji had returned to 
earshot.  "Like I'm stuck here... but not in a bad way.  And even though 
there's no one around to see us." But he shook himself  and went for 
the duffel.  "Sorry I didn't think to grab a blanket.  We'll just have 
to sit on the grass.  At least it's nice grass."

He turned his sandwich, after having offered the slightly larger one to 
Youji, over and over in his hands, as if looking for a slit in the wax 
paper he could use to more easily unwrap it, though several came to 
light at once, and yet he continued to spin it.  Finally, he tugged but 
one corner loose, and gazed upon the naked white bread, as if expecting 
it to do something indecorous as far as bread was concerned.  Satisfied 
that it would not, he peered around once, and finally sank his teeth 
into it.

Despite being obliged to cover his mouth then as he laughed with it 
rather full.  "They're egg and chicken salad and do they ever taste 
good outside!"

***

The wrappers and utensils now lay within the scrunched folds of 
Youji's duffel and the man himself was finishing off one thermos, and 
watching the splatters of sunlight shift across his legs.  Off Omi's 
bird-like body.  

He smiled, and recapped the thermos, slipping it back into the 
duffel.  "Ah, now...This was wonderful.  I don't know why people look 
down on such activities.  We must do this again sometime."

Youji stretched then, and sat up, and dusted off bits of grass from 
his shirt.  "What do you want to do now, Omi?"

***
 
Omi didn't answer right away.  He held his hand out as if cupping a ray 
of sunlight.  Blew upon his fingers as if expecting faerie dust to 
flutter from them.  

Then quite nonchalantly, he reached back into the duffel, and from it 
produced a brand new squeeze bottle of QP mayonnaise.  Which he laid in 
the grass in front of the two of them, and proceeded to stare at in a 
manner suggesting it was bewitched.

Frankly, these few seconds of behavior all seemed to have a cabalistic 
little edge to them.   He turned to his lover, and smiled.  Waved to 
the bottle.  Shrugged.

*****