Cry at night, No one in sight
And we got so much to share
Talking's fine, If you got the time
But I ain't got the time to spare
Do you wanna touch me there? Where?
Don't it make you feel so fine?
Right or wrong, Don't it turn you on?
Do You Wanna Touch Me - Joan Jett And The Blackhearts
Colorful lights reflected by the disco ball danced across the sea of sweaty bodies on the dance-floor. A tall chestnut-haired man moved to the beat of the rhythm, beads of perspiration clung to his skin like shimmering pearls as his hips swayed to the primal beat. This was his way of dealing with unwanted memories, things that he didn't want to remember.
A pair of knowing eyes looked on as Youji got lost in the rhythm. They watched in amusement and was undoubtedly, full of lust. A low subdued laughter escaped the flushed lips as his target walked off the dance floor and into the men's room. The owner of the eyes and lips got up as well, following the lean body that screamed for his attention.
"Time to play."
The door to the washroom was pushed open and Youji walked in. He seriously needed to take a leak, but the stands were all full so, instead of waiting, he took the cubicle. While doing his business, recollections of that strange dream resurfaced. That voice, it had haunted him the whole night and he couldn't go back to sleep after the rude awakening. He couldn't remember where he'd heard it or when, but one thing was for sure, it had been male and somehow, he had actually enjoyed that faceless being's company. And he shuddered at the thought. The words "Youji" and "male" did not go together in one sentence.
"So I've heard," a nasal voice greeted him from outside the door.
That voice! Youji quickly zipped up his pants and bolted out of the door, only to see an ever-familiar face staring back at him, one that completely drained the color from his own face. It was only then did he notice that there was no one else in the toilet, leaving him alone to face his worst nightmare.
The man smirked. "Your worst nightmare indeed. And I like things better that way." He shrugged. "More privacy. You should have seen one of them, he practically bolted out when he mentally saw himself being cut open with a chain-saw." He laughed heartily. "Ah, the wonderful things that you can do with these miserable powers."
Youji wasn't listening. The shock of having to meet his dream captor face to face had come as a complete surprise, one that left him standing there, speechless. But he did somehow managed to utter one word.
"In the flesh," came the reply as the man bowed courteously, flame-red hair falling over his face and a mocking grin on his face, green eyes never wavering.
A moment of silence passed as they stood there staring at each other. Schuldich, in anticipation, and Youji, in horror. The man that had sexually pleased him in his dream was not only someone that he had known, but also happened to be his worst enemy. The saddest part of it all was that he had enjoyed it. He cupped a hand over his mouth. He was going to be sick.
"Not before I'm done with you, you're not," the red-haired German answered his thoughts. Deliberately, he walked closer towards Youji, taunting the poor soul. The other withdrew. A step for a step. Footsteps echoed against pale tiles.
Youji was blindly backing away, still looking at the German in fear, when a wall greeted his back. Trapped. Urgently, he raked at his brain for a possible escape route, but none came to mind. There was only one thing left to do. Attack.
In one fluid motion, Youji brought his wrist up, and aimed with his specially altered watch, firing a thread of glittering wire at Schuldich. However, the German was far faster and in an unbelievably swift motion he swerved to his right, dodged the attack, and grabbed hold onto the thin filament. He gave it a hard jerk, sending Youji off balance and tripping him.
Sturdy hands reached for him in the nick of time, holding him near. Shocked at the close proximity of both their bodies, Youji looked up, only to see a pair of green eyes staring back at him. The chestnut-haired man scrambled up and tried to pull himself away, but the arms that kept him prisoner held on tight. In the midst of struggling, he felt something tighten around his wrist. Wire, his wire. Tainted with his own and Schuldich's blood. During the sudden slack of Schuldich's yank on it, it had tangled his hands. The German didn't seem to give a damn about his own bleeding palm.
Now Youji was really scared, and it didn't help as the words from last nights dream rang in his ears. "I will have you." He turned a whiter shade of pale and thrashed around even more, screaming and kicking wildly at the redhead. He didn't care if the wire was cutting at his wrists. He couldn't feel the pain or the blood that was slowly dripping to the floor. The only thing that was on his mind was that he had to break free. He had to get out of there somehow.
While in his raving madness, one of his boots actually came in contact with Schuldich's chest, knocking the air out of him, earning him a painful grunt. Bulls eye! But the moment didn't last very long. The German recovered quickly.
He received retribution for that kick when the Schwarz member slammed him hard in the shoulder, causing him to tumble backwards, crashing into one of the many cubicles. He elicited a yelp as his back collided with the side of the porcelain bowl. Schuldich paid no attention to his incessant swearing and reached a hand to close the lid. He then pulled Youji up by his armpits and sat him down.
Having had arranged his victim in the perfect position, Schuldich placed himself in between the outstretched legs that awaited. A gasp escaped the Japanese' mouth as he felt a thigh gently brush on his crotch and he closed his eyes, trying not to think about the stirring bulge trapped in his pants that created an uncomfortable ache.
Schuldich chuckled as a response to his thoughts. Then the red-haired German looked at Youji's hands, at the bound wrists. They were in the way. As a solution, he decided to hold them up so he could slip his head in, making it look like Youji was clinging onto his neck, not caring if the blood was staining his white Armani top.
Youji saw his chance to attack and swiftly brought his knee up, hard. But before he could do any physical damage to his enemy, a hand stopped him halfway, and pushed it back down again. Then, that same hand moved up to settle firmly at his thigh. He felt the touch burn through his black leather pants, and writhed. He tried to strike with his other knee but the same thing happened.
Pliant lips grazed his earlobe. "Ah, ah, ah. Don't you remember that I read minds? And, as a matter of policy, never interrupt me while I'm working," Schuldich murmured slowly. "It really pisses me off." A wandering hand slipped under Youji's black tank top and explored the silky flesh, sending tiny jolts of electricity, straight to his most private part. The tingling sensation drove him wild with sexual need. In his mind, he knew that he desperately needed a new get away plan but the wondrous hand that caressed every inch of his torso prevented him from thinking straight. Schuldich smiled. Knowing how his expert touch was affecting Youji, he lightly ran a finger along the Weiss member's side and up to his chest. He brushed a thumb across a nipple and playfully pinched them both until they were hard little pebbles. The Weiss member closed his eyes, melting with the violation.
The German lightly nipped at Youji's throat, then ran his tongue up to his ear. The act heightened the agonizing sensation in between his legs and he spread wider. He didn't know which was worse, being absolutely aroused by this man, or the fact that someone might just barge in on them. It would have to be the latter.
Annoyed at Youji's train of endless worries, Schuldich bit his earlobe, not too hard, but enough to distract the other man. "I thought of that before I came in. The "Out of order" sign is stuck on and the door's locked, just in case. So, stop thinking already. You're ruining my concentration," the telepath mentally replied.
Sensing that the other had complied, Schuldich moved on, planting kisses on Youji's throat as his hand traveled lower, brushing past taut abdominal muscles. It went lower still, until it stopped at the hardening bulge trapped in the leather pants. Youji's heart missed a beat when he felt the contact, the anticipation mounting as he wondered what the redhead had in store for him.
Schuldich let out a low throaty laugh. Instead of doing anything yet, he tortured the poor man even further by just placing his open palm there, knowing that the heat that radiated from it would heighten the tormenting feeling.
Youji squirmed in displeasure, his hands on Schuldich's neck balled into fists and he pulled the German closer to him, feeling the warmth of the other's body. Schuldich, shocked from the sudden closeness, chuckled and pulled his hand away. Youji's body tensed. In his mind, he thought, "No, this isn't happening."
But Schuldich continued. With ease, he popped open the button that partly held the tight Versace pants in place. Inch by inch, he pulled down the zipper, followed by the silky black briefs, releasing Youji's painful hard-on from its prison. The chestnut-haired man released a sigh of relief. Schuldich wasn't intending on leaving him halfway after all.
Schuldich threw back his head and gave forth a ringing laugh. "Was that what you were thinking? That I'd stop halfway and leave when I have the perfect chance to torture you?" he asked, and looked dead into the other's green eyes, a smirk on his face. "Never."
Youji shuddered at the words uttered and pulled the man even closer to him, embracing him and feeling the heat that radiated from him. There was just something about the tone, or maybe that deep sexy voice that turned him on even further. The fact that it was a man, an enemy that he was dealing with, was long forgotten.
Schuldich caressed the flesh that was exposed down to the upper thigh. He ran an open palm over the smooth sun-kissed skin, touching the joint of the thigh gently, deliberately prolonging the act that the other so desired. Up and down he went, then in circular motions. Before Youji could press his mouth shut, the soft moans escaped his lips.
Then a hand slid between Youji's thighs and gently covered the length of his manhood with its fingers collected together like a bud. Schuldich bent down, and delicately brushed his lips over it, touching it, yet not quite. Youji gasped.
Ever so slowly, the German pumped his hand, in time with Youji's rugged breaths. Nice and slow he went, then gained a bit of speed as the breaths became even more irregular. Then he stopped all together, leaving a very flushed and panting Youji hanging midway. The Japanese wanted to protest, wanted Schuldich to continue. But before he could get the words out of his mouth, he felt light kisses on his cock. And the burning feeling resurfaced again, threatening to swallow him whole. The fiery-haired German kissed it, as if he were kissing the lower lip. He kissed it all over, from base to tip, and back again. Then he flicked his tongue and lapped like a cat, as if it was candy that he was enjoying.
Youji shook his head violently. He couldn't take it anymore. He wanted the warmth of the man's hands again, or to feel his mouth engulfing him whole. He just wanted Schuldich to stop playing games with him, bringing him to the edge and pulling him back again. It was driving him nuts!
Schuldich chuckled. "So impatient," he said, voice barely audible, and decided to comply. He took in half of it at once, and gingerly sucked on it. This went on for a few minutes until he put more force in it, and the pace grew faster.
He attempted to take it to the hilt. Gradually, he took more of Youji's cock in his mouth. It triggered his gag system, but once past it, he couldn't stop. Not when Youji was moaning and groaning with ecstasy, occasionally murmuring his name. Driven by the madness of it all, he had to reach his goal. He would make Youji come for him.
Youji's hips lifted slightly and moved in time with the other's rhythm. He bit down on his lips, a bit too hard, as blood trickled down his chin. Harder and harder he grew until at last he gave forth violent unsurpassed spasms in a great rush. Schuldich took it all in as if it were precious nectar. A bit of it escaped his mouth to leave a messy trail on his fingers.
The intensity of the orgasm left Youji weak and gasping for air as his heart jogged at an extremely fast rate. When was the last time that it had been anywhere near that good? He tried to remember and came to the conclusion that maybe never. He finally cracked his eyes open and saw the German straightened himself.
Schuldich stared at the pearly white substance that clung to his fingers and stared at Youji. Green eyes met each other and were locked in an eternal gaze. Schuldich brought his fingers to his lips and sensually licked at it, eyes never leaving Youji's. A surge of desire jolted through Youji's whole body as he observed the erotically sexy act.
When the redhead had finished, his lips were shining brightly like corals. Schuldich leaned over to Youji, their faces a mere few inches from each other, and lapped at the blood from the corner of Youji's slightly parted mouth. The mingled scent of Youji and the coppery taste of blood excited the German even further.
He brought his lips close to Youji's ears and whispered, "Sie schmecken gut." Then he proceeded to untie the wire that bound Youji's wrists together. He readjusted the black tank top and re-zipped and re-buttoned the leather pants.
Reluctantly, he took a step back and looked at the man staring back at him. Chestnut hair wild with strands matted to the forehead, eyes a darker shade than his, face flushed and pale lips slightly parted. He was the perfect picture of sin. Schuldich blinked, and chuckled at how ironic that thought had been.
He couldn't resist doing one last thing. He bent down his head and swiftly sucked at Youji's throat, making sure that he left a mark. Youji didn't even have time to protest.
"A remembrance. Till next time." With that, he walked off.
Youji could hear the laughter ringing in his head as the German walked out of the scene.
Part 2 | Fanfiction