Liebe studied Schuldich with a sharp eye, sipping sparingly at her martini. The redhead was sitting on a stool, staring down into a mug of dark beer that was barely touched. He hadn't even shot up once that evening, which was strange enough as it was, but he didn't even have his usual smirk in place and that worried her. Her mask was sweet indifference. His was a smiling face.
"What's wrong?" she finally asked him.
She stared. "My God. No words of wisdom from you? Did you take a bad hit or something?"
"Nein," he retorted softly.
Liebe tilted her head. "You hearing voices again?"
He lifted his head, piercing green eyes catching hers. She studied the look on his face and frowned. There was a hunger there in his eyes-a need, a want - that she hadn't seen since he had tried to kill himself by slitting his wrist in March. That had happened after a potential customer had beaten him into unconsciousness after raping him with a knife, leaving him a limp body of pain and a mind screaming for silence. That man had died two days later. People on the street took care of their own. Still, Liebe had barely found him in time to stop the bleeding in his wrist and drag him to the local clinic. The hunger of that time had been for death.
She wondered what it was now.
"Liebe ..." he whispered in a hoarse voice. "Someone ... someone hasthe silence in their head."
"What do you mean?" she asked sharply, blue-gray eyes holding his.
He closed his eyes, remembering. "A customer ... American ... couple days ago. I went down on him. He left a silence in my head. No voices, no thoughts, just - nothing."
"How is that possible?" Liebe wanted to know. "Everyone leaves voices in your head. Even me."
Green eyes opened, full of want. "Not him."
Liebe sighed and shook her head. "Schuldich, maybe you were imagining things. The only way you get silence is if you shoot up."
"He had it," Schuldich snapped, fingers tightening on his mug.
Liebe shrugged and slid off her stool. "If you say so. I'm going to go dance. Want to join me?"
"Later. I'm going to finish my drink first," he told her.
He watched her leave and raised the mug to his lips, taking a deep gulp. He knew she was worried about him. He had heard her thoughts inside his. He was her ‘crazy redhead.' She had been wondering if that nickname was starting to become truth. He smiled down into his beer and chuckled. He doubted she'd be shocked to know that he himself already thought he was crazy.
"I hear voices in my head," he muttered angrily. "They never go away."
"Of course you do," a familiar voice said into his ear as an arm slid around his waist. "And that's what makes you such a great customer."
"Wraith," Schuldich said without any emotion in his voice.
The dark haired young man chuckled and tilted his head up, kissing him. Schuldich returned the gesture mechanically. Wraith's hand slid down his stomach to cup between his legs. "Someone was asking for you," Wraith told him when he broke away.
"What else is new?" Schuldich replied.
Wraith smirked down at him and flexed his hand. "Too bad you're your own master. I could make a killing off your cuts."
Schuldich arched an eyebrow and removed Wraith's hand. "You want me? Pay up."
Wraith smiled. "I don't want you tonight. Someone else does. Come on."
He pulled Schuldich off the stool and led him around the crowd to one of the exit doors. Schuldich followed Wraith willingly enough, knowing that the dealer would never betray him to the any of the hard core people on the street and vice-versa. They did have a business relationship to keep, after all. Wraith supplied the needles, Schuldich supplied the sex. Win-win situation all the way. Yeah. Right.
As they passed a table, Schuldich deposited his mug on it. He didn't want it anymore and wouldn't need it if he left. He stretched his mouth into his usual wide, smirking smile, and fell into a light, hip-swaying walk. Yeah, he knew how to use his body to get what he wanted. Sex for money, money for drugs, drugs for the silence. What a wonderful life.
The crowd thinned a little and he nearly jerked to a halt in mid-stride as he spotted the person leaning against the wall near an exit door. He was dressed in a black business suit this time, arms crossed over his chest and his blue eyes looking right at him from behind his glasses. There was a slight smirk on his mouth, a mocking expression to match Schuldich's own. Wraith tugged him forward, coming to a halt in front of the American.
"Here he is," Wraith said. "Our resident redheaded tricker."
"Schuldich," the man said smoothly.
Schuldich jerked his arm out of Wraith's grip and tucked his hands into his pockets. "Yo."
"I said I would see you again."
"So what do you want this time?" Schuldich asked.
The American straightened up and took a few steps closer, reaching out with one hand to tilt his chin up. "How much to kiss you?"
"As a test to see if you like the goods? Free."
"Such the business man, aren't we?"
The American leaned forward and pressed his mouth to Schuldich's, lips parting. Schuldich opened his mouth to the invasion, feeling an arm go around his waist and pull him against the strong, hard body in front of him. For a moment everything was mechanical - then the silence came. The constant hum of voices in the back of his mind faded and he gasped, hands coming out of his pockets to grad a hold of the man's shoulders for support.
You like this, don't you? a deep, strong voice said directly into his head.
The silence -
How badly do you want it? the American asked him as he rolled his hips against Schuldich's, the kiss becoming almost brutally hard. What are you willing to do for it?
Anything! Schuldich cried out into the wonderful emptiness of his mind.
Schuldich pressed himself against the body that held him, the kiss becoming frantic. Anything, he replied with the desperation of a dying man.
The American laughed inside his head and the next thing Schuldich knew he was being shoved back into Wraith's arms and the voices were ramming into his mind again. Wraith barely caught him before he collapsed to the floor, legs unwilling to support him, head lolling awkwardly. The American turned on his heel and opened the door.
"Anything, Schuldich? If that's your payment, then we have a deal. I'll see you soon."
And just like that, he was gone.
"Fucking asshole," Wraith muttered as he practically dragged Schuldich to a chair and sat down, pulling the limp redhead onto his lap. Schuldich dropped his head onto his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut "Schuldich, what did he mean?"
The red head smiled; the expression dreamy. "Silence ..." he mumbled, squirming on Wraith's lap.
The older youth rolled his eyes. "You and your damn silence," he muttered to himself.
Saliva coated lips pressed against Wraith's neck. "Wraith?"
"I'm hard. Wanna fuck?"
Wraith bent his head and kissed him fiercely. "Do I have to pay?"
"Nah. Consider it an early Christmas present," Schuldich told him even as the other man was undoing his pants. Wraith undid his own before tugging Schuldich's down his hips. He maneuvered the redhead more firmly on his lap before thrusting up into him. Schuldich arched against him, lifting his arms over his head and twining his hands together behind Wraith's neck. Wraith braced one hand on the redhead's stomach, the other one working him fiercely even as he thrust up into the tight warmth that surrounded him.
No one noticed them as they fucked. And even if they did, they didn't care. Their act of sex was normal in a place like this. The chair rocked with their rhythm, sounding like it would break, but Wraith didn't care. All that mattered was the warm, willing body seated on his lap and the tight heat that held him. Schuldich came first; mouth pressed in a tight line, body arced and tense. The clench of his body around Wraith sent the older man over the edge and he bit down on Schuldich's shoulder, muffling his cries. They sagged back down together on the chair and for a moment, neither moved. Then Schuldich lifted himself off of Wraith and adjusted his pants.
Turning around he snagged Wraith's wrist and brought his hand to his mouth and slowly licked it free of his semen. Green eyes watched as Wraith became hard again and when he was through, he bent over and gave him a messy kiss. It was sweet and tender, almost gentle. Then he was pulling away, fingers brushing over Wraith's cheek.
Then he was gone, sucked up into the crowd like had never been there. Wraith cursed and got to his feet, pulling his pants up. "Just like him to fuck and run without doing anything about it," Wraith muttered to himself as he opened the door to step outside. It slammed shut on his heels and he moved away, intending to go home. After Schuldich, anyone else just wasn't good enough.
He heard the click of the trigger too late.
"No witnesses," a cold voice said.
The shot was muffled by a silencer but it echoed loudly in Wraith's ears. The split second before the bullet hit him he realized that - somehow - Schuldich had known.
A fuck. A kiss. What a way to go.
And then nothing.
The body fell to the ground, dark eyes unseeing with death, the dirty snow scarlet covered. He pocketed the gun and turned on his heel to leave, adjusting the glasses on his nose with a sigh.
Inside, surrounded by bodies and music and voices in his mind, Schuldich danced to a rhythm only he could hear. Head thrown back in wild abandon, body pressed against a stranger's, his eyes gazed into the darkness unseeingly even as he smiled. The American had shown him Wraith's death in the silence.
A single tear tracked down his cheek.
He did not notice.
Part 7 | Fanfiction