Thinking of You

Mohji Kudou

You want me, Shuuichi - I can feel it.

"He sent you for me, didn't he?"

"I came for you myself - " An idea. "I just hope you'll come for me." I'm purring at him. Every muscle in his body tightens when I touch him.

Lovely. You think I'm lovely, Shuuichi?

I'm smirking - he hates that smile, I can see it in his eyes. He wants to make me cry. But he won't.

His hands are on the small of my back.

"I'll give you what you want," I'm purring inside of his mind, "For a small price."

I've already won this.



And his lips are on mine, his tongue wrestling with mine - a short battle for dominance. He tastes like mint - mint and chocolate. Come and get me, Shuuichi.

His hands are in my hair - "so soft," I hear him thinking, "so very soft". He's groaning into my mouth - it's kind of nice, to have a 'gentle lover'. I want to laugh at him.

But I'm groaning back - and I can't stop it.

I want to push him away and forget it, but find my hands are drifting lower, to unfasten his pants - I know what's waiting me there. It's pressing into my thigh.

He wants me.

His hands are caressing me, just as I caress his mind. And I realize why I can't push him away: He feels like Brad. That bastard.

He moves under my hands the way Brad did, when I first claimed his sex. A soft rustle, as my shirt falls off my shoulders, landing on the floor with his.

I don't want him anymore - I don't want him to want it.

Sending electric shocks through his brain, screaming YOU DON'T WANT HIM as loud as I can.

And I moan in spite of myself.

"Shuuichi - "

His lips are on my neck, creeping steadily lower. I'm stroking him gently, and I bend down - lowering my lips to his skin. I know how he wants this.

He wants my mouth around him, slow and tender.

I want to give it to him as hard and fast as I can - but my lips are moving so slowly over the too-warm flesh, and I am loving it.

I'm crushing his memories, desperate for anything to make him pull away. Nothing. Nothing in his mind but me.

I feel sick.

His fingers laced through my hair, and he let out a breathy groan, which could have been my name. Or perhaps someone else's.

He even TASTES like Brad.

And now I'm free of it - my breathing heavy, as I lick the last traces of HIS orgasm from my lips.

Weiß is ours now.

Brad will be so pleased with me.

"Schuldig - " He murmurs at me, brushing my hair from my face. I can't talk, and I'm not smirking anymore. "Weiß will - "

"Hush." My lips on his. My smile back in place. I'm leaving.

I can't wait to get home. Fafarello will take care of my hard-on, and Nagi will take care of Weiß.

I hate you, Brad.

You knew I'd be thinking of you.

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