Crowford's Valentine



Disclaimer: Schwartz doesn't belong to me, I'm just borrowing them and making them do nasty things. ^_^ This fic is yaoi and is rather naughty so if you aren't into that and don't want to see Crawford get a Valentine's Day gift from Schuldich then I suggest you go find some Harlequin romance to read. But in any case, have a happy Valentine's Day and forgive me for writing something so waffy and twitty and racy.

Crowford stalked into the kitchen feeling bleary eyed. "Good morning," he mumbled, adjusting his glasses. The blasted things kept sliding down. "What's for break - " he broke off upon seeing the mess on the kitchen table. "Farfello, what in God's name is all this trash? Don't tell me you robbed those preschool kids again."

Farfello glanced up from the blender where he was currently stuffing everyday household items into it and pressing random buttons. "That's Nagi's stuff," he muttered, staring raptly at the brownish gunk filled with metal chips as he repeatedly pressed 'Purée'.

He blinked a couple of times, staring at the mess. What was Nagi doing with all this junk? The entire kitchen table was covered with lace doilies and bits of frilly ribbons and red and pink and white paper and markers and enough glitter to blanket a sky rise.

Nagi entered the room, humming some horrid song by Glay under his breath. He smiled brightly at Crowford as he dumped a pair of scissors, a bottle of glue, shiny silver paper, a couple of pink and red pens and a box of crayons onto the already cluttered table. "Good morning Crowford. Did you sleep well?"

He stared at the younger boy. What the hell? He scowled accusingly. "You want something from me don't you? I'm not lending you anymore money Nagi!"

The boy laughed, a bright and cheerful sound that made even Farfello pause in the middle of his experiments. "Don't be cynical Crowford." He sat down at the table and began to cut hearts out of the red paper.

"What in the Earth are you doing?" he demanded, alarmed.

"I'm making hearts out of red paper," the boy explained patiently.

"I can see that! But why are you doing that? Have you developed a sudden fascination for arts and crafts?" A thought struck him, a memory from his former days at home in America. "Oh Lord, don't tell me you've been watching Martha Stewart?!!"

Nagi stared up at me blankly. "Huh?"

So he didn't know. Oh phew. "Nothing. But that still doesn't explain what you're - "

"It's Valentine's Day today!" Nagi burst out, exasperated. "I'm making a card for Tot. And - " he warned seeing him getting ready to protest, "don't give me any more lectures about how we're supposed to be the deadliest assassin group ever and so we're not allow to show feeling and stuff." He stuck out his lower lip and pouted, an action that got to him everytime. Nagi just looked so cute, how could he possibly say no? "You wouldn't spoil my date with Tot would you Crowford?" Cue to the big, wobbling eyes. "It's really the only time I'd get to spend with her and - "

"Alright, alright," Crowford grumbled. "If you want to waste time with all," he gestured expansively to the mess on the table, "that than that's fine with me. Just stop pouting and looking at me with those eyes!"

Nagi chuckled, his woebegone expression gone in a second. "You're really a big softie aren't you?"

Damn kid. Manipulative brat. He'd have to make sure he didn't spend so much time with Schuldich in the future.

Schuldich strolled into the kitchen, stretching languidly. "Thinking of me Brad?" he cooed.

"Don't call me that," he ordered coldly.

He wasn't fazed. "Imagine what our enemies would think. The mighty American assassin Bradley Crowford giving in to a little pouting face." He suddenly threw an arm around him and whispered into his ear, "If I pout, will you give me what I want?"

Crowford jerked away. "What the hell are you doing?" he roared, infuriated by his infernal smirking, Nagi's giggling and the sinking feeling that he was blushing. "How dare you touch me!!!" he rubbed agitatedly at his ear, trying to make that warm, shivering feeling go away. The nerve of that brazen German! He would kill him!

He grinned at me. "Oh c'mon Brad. You don't mean that. It's Valentine's Day. We should celebrate it with love not death threats." He winked at me. "Don't you want to love me Brad?"

"Don't call me Brad!" he snapped, vexed. "And don't read my thoughts either!"

"I'll buy you chocolates and flowers," he cajoled sweetly. "And I'll even recite poetry for you." He posed dramatically. "'I think I shall never see one as fair as thee'..."

"Hey that's not bad!" Nagi praised. "Can I use it?"

He glowered at the beaming redhead. "I don't believe in Valentine's Day," he told him flatly. "Now quit bothering me. I have lots of work to do." He stalked over to the counter for an apple when his gaze fell on Farfello. Now there was a man who would never celebrate something as mundane and stupid as Valentine's Day. Sure he liked to lick sharp objects and terrorize people and make strange concoctions in the basement and sure he was a few rum raisins short of a moldy fruit cake but when it came down to it, Farfello was always the one that he could count on.

"Don't be too sure of that," Schuldich remarked, coming up behind him. "You've got plans for tonight, don't you Farfie?"

He grunted, sticking a spoon into my electric pencil sharpener. "Yeah I'm gonna give that soccer player from Weiß a present."

"You're giving Weiß a present?" He was stunned at the concept. "Why? What is it?"

Farfello let out a sound that sounded suspiciously like a squeal. "I'm giving that boy a rat trap. When he opens the wrapping paper, it's gonna close on his hand and mash it!!!" He laughed hysterically.

Schuldich looked disgusted. "That beautifully wrapped gift on your bed is a rat trap?! The poems and chocolates attached to the box hold a rat trap in it?"

Crowford had laugh at the revulsion in the German's voice. There were no doubts about it. Farfello was a Prince of guy. "Now that's the spirit of a true Schwartz Valentine's Day!" he announced.

"He's not going to open it if I put it in a bloody bag," Farfello said, playing with his newest knife.

"Can't argue with that logic," he quipped, smirking at Schuldich's stunned expression. He waved to him casually. "I've got things to do so don't bother me. Enjoy your Valentine's Day Schuldich. " And with that, he strode out, snickering.

Schuldich watched Crowford leave and cursed. "Why can't he be even a little bit romantic?"

Nagi shrugged as he poured glitter onto a doily. "Maybe he's romantically challenged or something."

The German fumed. "It's the most romantic day of the year and that junk-faced moron still resisted me! All he cares about is work. What do I have to do to make him want me?"

"I have an extra rat trap," Farfello put in.

"Shut up Farfie."

"And I have lots of paper and glitter and lace and stuff," Nagi added as he glued loads of frilly white ribbon to a pink paper heart. "You could make him a Valentine card."

"No, I need something more than a card." He tapped his foot on the floor, thinking. "I need something to get him out of that workaholic, cold shell. Something that's unforgettable."

"He'd remember the rat trap," Farfello said as he stuck one of his knives into an empty light socket.

"I don't want to hurt him!" he snapped. "And stop putting your knife into the plug socket. Don't you remember what happened last time?"

"It didn't hurt. I liked it."

"Why don't you drug him?" Nagi suggested. "Then seduce him. He'd remember that for sure."

"Oh God, hell ya!" The thought of seducing Crowford was too much for the poor, love-struck German. He promptly had a nosebleed. "That's the perfect plan Nagi! If only he couldn't see into the future. Oh crap, he'd kill me!" he wailed dejectedly. "All I want is one date with him. Is that too much to ask?"

"I also have dynamite," Farfello mumbled, burning a roll of paper towel on the stove.

Shuderich cursed floridly. "I'm never going to get a chance to seduce him at this rate! You guys are no help! "

"Well why don't you find someone who is?" Nagi asked, writing Tot's name in sprawly calligraphy all over a silver, lace-festooned heart.

Shuderich blinked, an idea slowly forming. "You know Nagi, I think you've given me the perfect idea." A languid smile spread across his face. Yes indeed, this was going to be perfect. He clinked his heels together and danced out of the room singing a peppy love song in German.

Farfello blinked as he shoved a fork into his arm. "And they call me crazy?"

Nagi added more lace to his card. In his opinion, there could never be enough lace. Or glitter for that matter. He generously showered rainbow glitter on the entire thing. "Don't take it personally Farfie. You know how it is."

"What do you think would happen if I fried that glitter?"

Early in the evening, Crowford was interrupted by a loud knock on the door of his study. "Brad it's me. Open up, it's important."

He sighed. "This better be good Schuldich."

"It is," he insisted. "Just open up, it's really important."

Well he sounded genuine. He went and opened the door, knowing that he'd probably regret it. If Schuldich touched him again, by God he'd strangled him for sure. He peered down the length of his nose at the redhead and gave him his sternest, stoniest stare. "What is it?" he asked coldly.

"It's Weiß. Fujimiya Aya and the soccer player were spotted at one of Takatori sama's warehouses. We've gotta get there immediately."

He nodded briskly, grabbing his coat. "Let's hurry then."

Schuldich hesitated for a second. "We could probably handle it alone right? I mean Nagi's got that date tonight and Farfello's...well you know."

"Yes, it's Valentine's Day afterall right?" he said sarcastically. "We couldn't dare jeopardize such a distinguished and extraordinary holiday now could we?"

"I didn't know today was so important to you," Schuldich replied, giving him a sultry look. "But I'd be more than delighted to spend it with you." He blew a kiss at the American.

Crowford glared at him. "Oh shut up and let's go. We don't have time for your idiot buffoonery."

Schuldich sighed dramatically. "Such a cynic. I love that."

Schuldich surveyed the hotel room and nodded with satisfaction. Everything was perfect. The white candles, the champagne on ice, the four course meal, all the flowers, everything. Now all he had to do was wait for his sleeping beauty to awake and then he could start the fun.

White hot desire washed over him as he looked over at his sleeping companion. He was tired of denying his passions and being put off. But not anymore. Tonight, Crowford was his. And just to make sure that he wouldn't put him off again, he'd taken the liberty of tying the other man to the bed with red ribbons. He smirked. Crowford looked delicious, lying on the rose petals he'd scattered, tied up with no shirt. His chest was smooth and buff. Shit, he wanted to eat him alive.

Schuldich took a deep breath, looking away. He had to wait, had to be patient. He couldn't rush anything. This was supposed to be their perfect night. Instead, he turned his thoughts to how smoothly his plan had gone so far. The American had believed that Weiß was attacking and on the drive to the 'warehouse' he'd given him some coffee to drink. Filled with Farfie's sleeping pills of course. He'd been out in two minutes, leaving Schuldich with ample time to get to the hotel and make sure everything was perfect. Which it was.

A soft moan came from the American. At last! He went and sat down beside him, running his fingers through that thick, black hair. God he was fucking gorgeous.

"Wake up Brad," he crooned sensuously, reaching out with his tongue to touch Crowford's ear.

Crowford groaned and his eyes languorously fluttered open. "Schuldich?" he wondered, blinking up at him.

The way he said his was like a caress. Schuldich didn't know how he was going to last the night. He wanted to go slow, to make the other man burn with desire. To feel what he was feeling, what he had felt for so long. But now...the sexy way he was looking up at him, the sound of his name...Schuldich wanted to ravish the American. It was too much. He couldn't bare it.

"Where am I?" he asked, an absolutely cute confused look gracing his features. "What happened to Weiß?"

"They're gone," he whispered, hovering lusciously close to Crowford's mouth.

His eyes widened and his breathing hitched. He swallowed audibly. "Gone? I don't even remember seeing them." A slight frown as he sought to recall something and then he tried to sit up. Tried to. "My hands are tied up!"

"So they are," he agreed huskily, running his finger along Crowford's soft, moist mouth. "But doesn't it feel good?"

"I - " he shivered, his mouth parting slightly. The tip of his tongue touched his wandering finger. That tiny touch, the feel of Crowford's tongue on his finger sent red hot bolts of pleasure up and down his entire body.

"Oh fuck it!" The German exploded. Fuck going slow. Fuck the seduction. Fuck everything! He wanted Crowford and he wanted him now. In one swift movement, he straddled the American.

That adorable drowsiness was being replaced by clarity of thought and understanding. "Schuldich you goddamn - "

He didn't let the American finish. Pressing his groin hard against the other man, he bent his head and kissed Crowford. The kiss was hot, it was rough, it was openly carnal and it was a million times better than in all his fantasies. Crowford tasted so fucking good and the way he was struggling made it even more delicious. He thrust his tongue into his defiant partner's mouth, forcing him to feel this mindless desire. He sucked him hard as his hands ran down the sleek contours of his chest. He could feel the American moaning and twisting beneath him, hear the thoughts swirling in his mind.

He moved from his mouth to his throat, trailing kisses. "You want me Brad," he whispered gruffly. "Tell me how much."

"No I don't!" the other man wheezed, panting as Schuldich took his nipple into his mouth. He struggled against the ribbons that held his hands. "I'm not gay! I don't want you! You bastard, you tricked me!"

He kissed and sucked his way down his chest, his hands reaching down and undoing the zipper of Crowford's khaki pants. "You feel like you want me," he hissed, stroking him roughly.

Crowford gasped, turning and muffling his head into the pillow.

"You feel so hot," he groaned, fondling him harder. "Tell me you want me Brad. Tell me what you want me to do to you. Tell me how much you want me."

He let out a hoarse cry as Schuldich brought his mouth dangerously close to hard parts. "Say it and I'll do it. It'll feel so good Brad. Just say it."

He couldn't take it anymore. Schuldich was so close and he wasn't doing anything. He needed it, not caring who was giving it to him and why. "Yes!" he choked out, his entire body throbbing with lust. "Do it. Blow me hard! Please I can't - " he broke off into a fierce moan of pleasure as Schuldich took him into his mouth

It felt good. So very good. Schuldich had dreamed of this moment for so long. Having Crowford at his complete mercy with mutual love and passion between them. He was tired of unrequited love. He hated Crowford always pushing him away. But not this time. He sucked harder, wringing cry after cry of passion from the dark haired man. He would make sure that Crowford wanted him. Make sure that he would love him back.

"Oh! Oh!" He was being loud but he couldn't help it. The things Schuldich was doing to him, the way his mouth engulfed him...he smothered his face into the silken pillow again. It was coming. He couldn't bare it any longer. Waves of pleasure were washing over him. Bigger and higher waves and he was drowning. Oh shit, this was too much. Too much, oh God it was so close, felt so good...

With a muffled shriek, body taut and sweaty, Crowford came. A lot. And it was over and the room was still, save for the sound of the American's harsh breathing and Schuldich wiping his mouth.

Schuldich crawled up beside Crowford and gently kissed him. "You're so beautiful."

Crowford jerked his face away. "Fucking asshole."

"Brad don't," he whispered achingly. "I didn't mean for it to go like that. I couldn't stop myself. I wanted - "

"Oh that's right," he jeered, laughing bitterly. "You didn't mean to lie to me and drug me and tie me up and humiliate me."

"I wanted to seduce you not humiliate you," he explained quietly as he gently brushed away the dark hair from Crowford's eyes. "You would have never come here on your own. I can't keep waiting for you Brad and hoping that you'd one day you'll see me and want me too. I'm not that patient."

His eyes were so dark, as they stared up at him. He'd never know just how dark and how beautiful until he'd removed his glasses a little while earlier. He could have drowned in them. "What are you saying Schuldich?"

"I'm saying that I love you. I have for a long while." Carefully he began to untie the ribbons that tied the other man to the bed. "And I'm saying that if you don't want me, if you're completely repulsed by me, then you can go home and I'll never touch you again." He held his breath, as the other man sat up and rubbed at his wrists.

"You love me?" His face was expressionless, his voice bland.

Fuck, they could have been talking about Earl Grey tea! He tried not to scream. "I wouldn't have done all this if I didn't love you," he muttered, studying the satin sheets with great interest.

There was a silence. "Did you really have to tie me up?"

He looked over at him. The American was smiling slightly, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "Oh Brad!" he squealed, hurling himself on top of the other man. "I knew we were meant to be!" He kissed him passionately while running his hands all over his chest. And he was delighted to feel Crawford touching him back.

"This time," Crowford breathed, when they parted, "I think I'd like to tie you up."

"Oh please do," the German cooed seductively, stripping off his clothes. "But that's only after I'm done with you Bradley."

Crowford grabbed the redhead and forced him down. "We'll see," he growled, stroking him.

And so the two new found lovers began a bright new future together where they bought a quaint little cottage in the woods, adopted seven kids and lived happily ever after. Right? Hardly. But they did have a lot of fun with those ribbons and the chocolate and the champagne and Crowford decided that Valentine's Day was one of his favorite holidays.