Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/3108479.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Weiß_Kreuz
  Relationship:
      Naoe_Nagi/Schuldig
  Character:
      Schuldig_(Weiß_Kreuz), Naoe_Nagi, Brad_Crawford
  Series:
      Part 5 of Sinners_&_Saints
  Stats:
      Published: 2002-01-01 Words: 11703
****** Determination ******
by Miko_no_da_(Miko)
Summary
     Schuldig is struggling to keep the relationship between him and Nagi
     platonic, but his slave has other ideas.
     (Posting OLD fics from my defunct website)
Nagi woke slowly, stretching against the warm body behind him and enjoying the
sensation of strong arms around him. Schuldig shifted against him and tightened
his grip, muttering into the boy's short dark hair. One flame-red lock fell
into Nagi's face, and he used his powers to lift it away before he sneezed and
woke his companion.
It hadn't been all that long ago that waking up was something to dread - a
little less than two years, now. He still remembered the feeling of terror that
accompanied the first stirrings of awareness, the desperate attempt to keep his
mind in the void of sleep as long as possible. How different, now, to wake up
feeling safe and protected, knowing that he would never be hurt again.
And it was all due to the man currently using him as a sort of living body
pillow, curled up around him protectively. Granted, it had been Crawford who
originally had rescued him from the life of a slave, but it was Schuldig who
had truly freed him. Since the day the German had challenged their American
master for the right to their freedom, Nagi had belonged to Schuldig body, mind
and soul. He wouldn't have wanted it any other way.
He was aware that his continued 'dependence' on his Master worried his
teammates, and he tried his best to function on his own, as they wanted him to.
But it was hard - making decisions, carrying them out without orders to do so,
living his life as though he hadn't been broken at an early age. He was
managing a pretty good facsimile, he thought, but it would be a long time
before he could truly function alone.
An idle suggestion from Schuldig - or any other aggressive person, really -
would still make him drop everything he was doing and rush to obey, unless he
already had specific orders to the contrary. That had happened only yesterday;
Crawford had made an irritated comment about the messy state of the living
room, and Nagi had scrambled to clean up, abandoning the hacking project he'd
been working on. Schuldig had gotten pissed about it when he'd come in to see
what had upset his 'slave'.
Nagi smiled softly, reaching up with one hand to touch the leather collar and
silver pendant resting comfortingly against his throat. Schuldig kept telling
him that he only had to wear the collar at the parties they were forced to
attend, but Nagi never took it off unless ordered to do so. The few times
Schuldig had tried doing just that, the young telekinetic had been distracted
and fretful, feeling insecure without the physical evidence of his ownership to
proclaim to the world that he was under Schuldig's protection. Finally the
telepath had given up, telling him to wear it if he liked but to keep it out of
sight in public.
He heard the sound of Crawford moving about in the rest of the apartment, and
reluctantly started disentangling himself from Schuldig's embrace. The redhead
frowned in his sleep and tried to hang on, but after two years of practice Nagi
was adept at getting out of bed without waking the German. He deftly inserted
his pillow into Schuldig's arms, giving him something to cuddle, and padded to
the doorway.
He peeked outside, checking to see if Crawford was nearby. Not that he cared if
his leader saw him naked; any social modesty he might ever have possessed had
been washed away by thirteen years of training as a submissive. However, he
knew the American was disturbed by seeing his youngest teammate nude - more
because of the scars lining most of Nagi's body than because of any social
mores the precognitive might have suffered from. He didn't know why it
distressed Crawford to see the physical evidence of the abuse he had lived
through, but he did his best to avoid upsetting the older man.
Of course, he could have just pulled on his clothes from the day before, or
borrowed Schuldig's robe to get to the bathroom. But he hated wearing dirty
clothes, and despite many assurances from his Master he still didn't feel
comfortable touching something of Schuldig's without permission. So instead he
streaked across the hallway to the bathroom doorway, shutting it quickly behind
him.
He went diligently through his morning routine, starting with using the toilet
as always. In two years he'd never once deviated from his pattern, set for him
by Schuldig his first day on the team. It was comforting, familiar, something
to look forward to each day.
Next he started the shower, adjusting the water until it was the right
temperature - blood heat, just short of scalding, the way he liked it best -
and stepped under the warm spray. After letting it pound on his muscles for a
few moments, he reluctantly moved away and reached for the soap. He lathered
himself thoroughly, using his powers to help him get those hard-to-reach spots
on his back.
His hands slowed as they came up his legs, stopping just short of his groin. He
was erect, as he always was in the mornings these days - the first time he'd
woken to find his sheets sticky, he'd nearly died of shame and horror before
Schuldig had managed to assure him that it was just part of the growing
process. 'Wet dreams', the German had called them. Whatever kind of dreams they
were, it still distressed Nagi every time it happened. He'd been trained not to
come until he was given permission, and certainly not to EVER stimulate himself
there, even by accident.
Still, he had to get clean. Hesitantly he soaped himself there, biting his lip
and fighting the onslaught of sensation as the silky soap rubbed over the
sensitive skin. He cleaned himself as quickly as he could, and pulled his hands
away as soon as he was finished. He stepped back into the spray, chest heaving
a bit with his ragged breaths. The urge to touch himself there was getting
stronger as he got older - from reading he'd done and some things Schuldig had
said, Nagi knew he was going through puberty, and his body was just reacting to
the sporadic stimulation of his hormones. That didn't make it any easier to
deal with, however.
Intellectually, he knew that Schuldig probably wouldn't care if he touched
himself, even if he came because of it. The German would likely cheer him on
for taking the initiative, in fact. But knowing that and believing it were two
different things; the fear of punishment was still too strong within him, even
after two years with nothing worse than a mild spanking or two ever happening
to him. He just couldn't bring himself to do it, and so he suffered in silence.
It certainly wasn't something he'd ever mention to Schuldig! The last thing the
telepath needed was his slave whining about a natural body process that
couldn't be helped; Nagi wasn't certain just what was going on in their job,
but he knew that Takatori was getting progressively more agitated about the
actions of a group called 'Weiss'. Nagi had already gone head to head with one
of them, Bombay, on the Internet, keeping him from hacking into Takatori's
systems; Crawford said they would be facing them physically soon. Between that
and keeping the lunatic Esstet had sent them contained, the German and the
American had more than enough on their minds. He'd lived through what some
people would consider real torture - he could handle the torments of his
growing body.
Oh, it was frustrating, though! Schuldig frequently would leave their room late
at night to take care of his own needs, not wanting to disturb his slave. What
he apparently hadn't realized, though, was that the connection he had forged
between himself and Nagi was now something that even he couldn't close
completely - Nagi would inevitably wake the moment Schuldig left the room, and
would suffer quietly through the wash of pleasure that surged through his mind
as the telepath brought himself to completion. Twice he hadn't been able to
hold himself back, reaching the peak along with his Master despite his best
efforts; luckily Schuldig had just thought it the result of more dreams, and
never reprimanded him.
He wanted more, though. For the first time in his life, he WANTED to perform
the duties he'd been trained to do. He wanted to please Schuldig, to pleasure
him. He knew instinctively that it wouldn't hurt as it had with all the others,
that Schuldig would care as much about Nagi's pleasure as his own.
What's more, he knew Schuldig wanted him, too. He'd seen the way the German
looked at him, when he thought his slave wasn't looking. He knew lust when he
saw it - he'd certainly been the recipient of it often enough in his life. But
something held the telepath back; a sense of responsibility, perhaps, or a
determination not to ever have Nagi think of him the way he'd thought of his
other Masters. There had to be something he could do to break through his
Master's resolve!
Drying off, he carefully brushed his hair and his teeth, attacking the dark
brown strands of his hair until they lay in some semblance of order. His hair
was very fine, and it tended to react to the aura of power he held around him,
flying every which way as though charged by static electricity.
When he was finally presentable, he peeked out the door again to ensure
Crawford was still nowhere in sight. Hearing the precognitive moving about in
the kitchen, he ducked back across the hallway into 'his' room - the room that
had been given to him on his first night. He still kept most of his clothes
there, as well as all his books and computer equipment, though he hadn't used
the bed since the very first week.
Shutting the door behind him, he glanced automatically around the room,
checking for anything out of place. The little power buttons on his computer
were flashing, telling him that it was still on standby mode - no sense leaving
it on and online for someone like Bombay to hack into while he wasn't there.
His clothes hamper was almost full - it was laundry day tomorrow, he
remembered, and made a mental note to gather all his dirty clothes. The walls
had been repainted a light blue from the stark white they'd originally been,
and several posters hung on the wall. Those were Schuldig's additions, though
Nagi had been pleased with them.
Seeing that everything was where he'd left it, Nagi made his way to the dresser
and opened the drawers. He dressed quickly, pulling on socks and boxers and the
light cotton t-shirt that went under his uniform, then donning the slacks and
high-necked tunic that he always wore. He had a couple of different styles,
now, as well as several different colours, but his favourite was still the
light grey, simple tunic that Schuldig had bought for him originally.
Once he was dressed, his scars and collar covered by the smooth fabric, he
could have passed for any other boy his age. He looked at himself in the
mirror, checking to make sure nothing was out of place, and then headed for the
kitchen to make breakfast.
Crawford was already there when he arrived, sipping his coffee and reading the
morning paper, as always. Nagi paused in the doorway, waiting to see if the
precognitive had any orders for him; after a long moment of silence he shrugged
and glided into the room on silent feet, moving towards the cupboards.
"You're up early today," the American commented from behind him. Nagi hesitated
and looked back over his shoulder, uncertain if the man was upset at having his
normal morning solitude disturbed. Crawford saw the look and interpreted it
correctly. "No, I'm not upset," he said smoothly. "It was just an observation."
Nagi took a deep breath and made himself respond. He could speak easily enough
to Schuldig now, but with anyone else it still took an effort when he hadn't
been given explicit permission. "I couldn't sleep any more," he answered
simply, turning back to the cupboards and rummaging through them for pancake
makings.
"Sou." Crawford's voice conveyed his disinterest, and Nagi relaxed a bit. The
American was just making conversation - unusual for him, but he did it
sometimes when he was bored. "Happy birthday, by the way."
Nagi frowned, puzzled. Birthday? Was it his birthday? "It... it is?" he finally
asked, surprised that Crawford had bothered to notice.
"Yes," the precognitive nodded, turning a page in his paper. "You're fifteen
today. Congratulations."
Nagi wasn't certain what he was being congratulated for - surviving this long,
perhaps. "Thank you," he replied stiffly, and continued with his preparations.
The scent of sizzling pancakes eventually drew Schuldig into the kitchen,
yawning widely and wearing nothing but his jeans and bandanna. "Yo," the German
greeted them both sleepily, slumping into his chair and leaning his head on his
crossed arms on the table.
Crawford nodded a greeting, accepting the fresh cup of coffee Nagi offered him.
Schuldig took his cup gratefully, gulping it down quickly and holding it out
for a refill. Nagi obliged, carefully hiding his amusement with his usual non-
expression. "Thanks, kid," Schuldig said when he was halfway through his second
cup, and somewhat more alert. "Dunno what I'd do without you."
"Starve, most likely," Crawford snorted, glancing up at his teammate over the
paper. "That, or drown in filth. He does all his chores and yours, too."
Schuldig made a face at him. "I do my chores," he defended himself sheepishly.
"Some of them, anyway. Besides, he likes doing stuff for us. Ne, kid?"
Nagi nodded, serving both of them pancakes and syrup before settling down in
his own spot. "I like to be useful," he said softly. Schuldig reached over and
ruffled his hair, undoing his careful work, before digging into his breakfast.
Nagi wasn't upset - he loved it when Schuldig touched him like that, one of the
few outward signs of affection the telepath would allow himself.
Breakfast followed its usual pattern, with Schuldig poking fun at their leader
and encouraging Nagi, Crawford making the occasional sardonic comment, and Nagi
only shyly joining in on the conversation. Just as they were finishing,
Schuldig abruptly sat upright with a pained look.
"Damn it, the looney's awake again," he complained, rubbing his temple as
though he had a headache. His eyes were unfocused, staring through the walls to
the east side of the apartment, where the fourth bedroom was. "Remind me again
why we can't just kill him, Crawford? He's driving ME nuts, and he's too
unstable to be useful!"
"Esstet sent him to us for a reason, Schuldig," Crawford reminded the German
curtly. "If we simply kill him, they will regard us with suspicion, possibly
even eliminate us. We can't afford to irritate them just yet; the time is not
yet right."
Schuldig growled, clearly unhappy with the situation. "Well, the time had
better be right pretty damn soon, because I'm gonna go insane if I'm stuck in a
small space with HIM for any length of time. He's certifiable, Crawford!"
"He's been certified insane already, actually," Nagi told him. "I saw his
personnel records. He escaped from a high-security mental institution in
Ireland, killing all the guards, doctors, and half the inmates. Esstet picked
him up shortly after that."
Schuldig stared at him. "Fuckin' Christ... no wonder! Crawford, what the hell
are we supposed to do with this guy? He'd kill US as soon as look at us, and if
we bring him into a fight one of us is gonna have to babysit him the whole
time, to make sure he doesn't go AWOL on us!"
"It will work out as it is meant to, Schuldig," Crawford told him calmly. "And
no, I don't foresee you suffering ill effects from exposure to him any time
soon, so stop worrying. Just keep your shields up while he's around - it will
be good practice for you."
Schuldig swore at him in German, which Crawford ignored as he always did. The
precognitive stood, and Nagi hastened to clear away the breakfast dishes.
Schuldig stood as well. "I'm going to go sedate him again," he muttered darkly.
"And then I'm going to go to the practice room until it knocks him out. At
least with all the shielding on that room, I can't hear him as easily." He
strode out of the room, scowling.
Crawford sighed and shook his head, removing his glasses for a moment to rub at
the bridge of his nose. Replacing them, he moved forward to put a hand on
Nagi's shoulder. Startled, Nagi froze - Crawford almost never touched him, for
any reason.
"Take a chance," the precognitive said enigmatically, gesturing at the doorway
Schuldig had just vanished through. "It will make life easier for both of you,
I assure you." Having said his piece, the American turned and left the room,
calling back to both of them, "I'll be gone for a couple of days - Takatori
wants me to overhaul the security systems in one of his Kyoto offices. You
should both be fine until I get back, but I'll call you if I see anything
changing."
"Typical," Schuldig snorted as the front door slammed closed behind Crawford,
entering the kitchen to dispose of the used needle in the container they kept
for just that purpose. He'd put on a shirt and a pair of battered sneakers at
some point, and was looking relatively presentable. "He'll be gone for two days
and doesn't bother to tell us until he's walking out the door. One of these
days I'm going to teach that mystery-loving bastard a lesson, I swear!"
"He'll see it coming," Nagi reminded him, trailing him out of the apartment and
into the 'practice area' - a large, open space with mats for physical training,
a weight room, and a smaller enclosed room with special psychic shields around
it. He was only allowed to work on his offensive telekinetics when Crawford or
Schuldig were around to supervise - if Schuldig was going to be hanging about
in the shielded room until Farfarello went back to sleep, this was as good a
time as any for him to practice. "You're still just annoyed that you can't read
him at all," he added, knowing the true reason for the telepath's enmity.
"That, too," Schuldig admitted, sighing with relief as the door swung shut
behind them. The room was soundproofed as well as shielded, giving the whole
space a kind of dull, flat feeling to it. "One of these days I am going to
catch him by surprise, though," he said, slumping into one of the chairs along
the perimeter. "He's not completely infallible."
"He might as well be," Nagi said, greatly daring to contradict his Master. He'd
been learning lately that Schuldig enjoyed it when his submissive sparred with
him verbally, since he had so few other people to talk to and was antagonistic
by nature. It had taken Nagi a real effort, but he was slowly becoming able to
actually debate things with Schuldig, instead of just agreeing with everything
he said. "And you know he always double- and triple-checks what YOU'RE going to
be doing, just in case."
Schuldig chuckled, leaning one elbow on a table and propping his head up on his
fist. "Go ahead and practice if you want to," he said, his eyes sliding to
half-mast. "I'll watch you."
"Just make sure you don't fall asleep," Nagi replied affectionately, and
started warming up by shifting some of the heavy weights placed at the end of
the room for just that purpose. He loved using his telekinetic ability, loved
the feeling of power it gave him to lift things many times his own weight,
moving them effortlessly with his mind. The air in the room snapped around him,
ruffling his clothes and hair as he worked. He revelled in it, reminding
himself with each exercise that his Gift meant that he would never again be
vulnerable to the sort of perverted predators that had preyed on him all his
life. Of course, whether he would be mentally able to refuse them was another
matter, but at least he knew that he could never be physically forced into
slavery again.
He had never found the ultimate limits of his abilities. He would sometimes get
tired after a particularly long practice session, but there seemed to be no
limit to the mass he could lift, or how far he could move it within line-of-
sight. If he was angry or upset he would lose some of his control, but his
power seemed to increase exponentially. And he was still growing steadily more
powerful as he got older - Crawford said that his abilities would probably
level off when he'd finished puberty, at seventeen or eighteen. It was a
dizzying thought - if he was already this powerful, what would his Gift be like
in three years?
Of course, there was a price to be paid. After being malnourished for most of
his childhood, the constant drain of his powers now ensured that he would
almost certainly not grow any more. He would always be delicate and fragile
physically, as if to compensate for the awesome power of his mind. It was a
price he paid gladly - he'd never been interested in being the kind of big
bruiser that got picked as an ordinary 'bodyguard', and was perfectly content
being 'that scrawny little hacker kid'. Takatori had originally expressed
doubts about Nagi's ability to protect him in any way, but after a short
demonstration of the boy's hacking skills - and his ability to keep other
hackers OUT of the systems - the politician had been more than happy to shell
out the rather exorbitant sum Crawford had named for each of their salaries.
Having money of his own was a strange concept for Nagi. He let Schuldig deal
with it, not really paying attention to it except when he needed new equipment
for his computer. Schuldig likewise let the majority of his pile up in a Swiss
bank account, once Crawford had reminded him that they wouldn't be working for
Takatori forever, and would need to be prepared for when they broke away from
Esstet.
He was playing with a swarm of knives, directing them at various targets about
the room and trying to keep track of them all at once, when Schuldig abruptly
stood and headed for the door. "Phone call," the telepath explained as Nagi let
the knives fall back onto the table. The red light over the door was blinking
slowly, indicating that someone was trying to reach them on their main line. It
was useless to install a telephone where they were - the shielding scrambled
any electronics inside. "Probably Takatori."
Nagi nodded and followed him outside, but the phone had already stopped
ringing. Schuldig leaned against the wall and waited for his cell phone to go
off. Sure enough it shrilled at them barely a moment later. Schuldig let it
ring a few times before answering, not wanting to seem eager. The German hated
their employer with a passion, Nagi knew - something to do with his treatment
at Takatori's hands when he'd still been an unwilling submissive.
"Schuldig," the redhead spoke into the phone lazily, his sardonic grin audible
in his tone. "Ah, Takatori-san. Sure, we're free. What do you need us for?" His
smirk faded slightly as he listened, and Nagi caught an echo of disgust through
the bond between them. "Tonight? Yeah, no problem. We'll meet you in the
carpool as usual." He clicked off the phone, making a face. "Party tonight,
Liebe. Just you and me - no WAY am I taking the lunatic into one of those
things."
Nagi nodded agreement, shuddering to think of the knife-wielding psycho in a
BDSM environment. Actually, come to think of it, he'd probably love it - he
certainly looked the part. But there was no way of knowing what kind of damage
the Irishman would do, and if they were concentrating on containing him,
something might get by them to hurt Takatori. Not that either of them would cry
if the politician was hurt or even killed, but they WERE supposed to be there
as his bodyguards, after all. It was a matter of professional pride.
"Tonight," he agreed, steeling himself for an evening of being ogled and
verbally pawed over by wealthy perverts. It was going to be a long night...
 
===============================================================================
Nagi resisted the urge to tug the hemline of his vinyl skirt down, knowing the
gesture would be futile as well as disobedient. As Takatori's bodyguards they
were required to stay close to the man, and he had been eyeing Nagi lustfully
all night. It was one of the few times they'd been out alone with him, without
Crawford present to step in on their behalf. Granted, Takatori had gained a new
respect for Schuldig after the series of bloody fights he'd won to keep his
freedom and possession of Nagi, and that protected them both to a certain
extent. The politician was extremely drunk at the moment, however, and appeared
to have forgotten his own promise to Crawford to keep his hands off Schuldig
and Nagi.
The telekinetic suppressed another wince as one meaty hand pinched his ass
through the vinyl, and saw Schuldig cast a dark look at their employer. He
could feel Nagi's discomfort through their bond, of course, and without
Crawford there to remind him to keep a level head his temper was rapidly
boiling over.
"With all due respect, SIR," the German muttered to Takatori privately, "I'll
thank you to keep your hands OFF my slave. You have an agreement with Crawford
- the fact that he's not here doesn't negate that. He won't be pleased to hear
that you've broken faith with him when he returns."
Takatori scowled. "I wasn't hurting the boy. You need to learn to be less
sensitive, Schuldig."
"Keep your hands off Liebchen, and I'll start being less sensitive. He's MINE,
deal with it!" With that Schuldig caught Nagi by the hand and pulled him a few
steps away, out of reach of the lecherous politician. Nagi could feel his fury
and disgust resonating through their bond, and was a little distraught by it.
*It's nothing you did, Liebe, don't worry about it,* Schuldig told him,
somewhat curtly. *I've been standing too close to him all night, and it's
starting to affect me.*
*Maybe we should back off a little?*Nagi suggested hesitantly. *It's not as if
we couldn't stop an assassination attempt from a distance, between the two of
us. Without even making our powers obvious, likely.*
*Yeah, I think that's a good idea,*Schuldig agreed. He bowed briefly to the
group they were in, and excused himself, Nagi trailing along a pace behind and
to the left. They wandered off far enough that Schuldig couldn't feel the press
of the politician's mind against his own constantly, and the German leaned
against the wall. "Fetch me a drink, Liebchen," he said aloud, his tone bored.
"Thirty seconds."
Nagi scampered to obey as he started counting, weaving through the crowd to the
bar a few feet away. It was crowded, several other subs with a similar time
limit attempting to get the bartender's attention. *What do you want?* he asked
as he approached the lacquered bar.
*I want a soda and scotch,* Schuldig replied wryly, *But I'll settle for just a
coke. No sense letting my shields slip by getting drunk.*
Nagi tried to get the bartender's attention, but with his small frame and
unassuming manner he was easily lost in the press. *Twenty seconds,* Schuldig
warned him, and he felt his chest clench tightly. Briefly he considered using
his powers to somehow draw the man's gaze, but realized that he'd be in far
more trouble if Schuldig caught him using his ability so blatantly than if he
was just late with the drink. *Fifteen seconds,* he heard, and in desperation
he shoved his way in front of two of the other slaves.
The tactic worked; the beefy bartender looked down at him, not unkindly. "What
can I get ya, kid?" he asked, knowing perfectly well that Nagi wasn't permitted
to speak without permission.
The telekinetic pointed wordlessly, watching in the mirror behind the bar as
the man turned to draw a glass of coke from the fountain. Consequently he
caught the brief motion of the man's hand as he moved to drop a tiny pill into
the drink, and was able to use his powers to quickly lift it out again the
moment the man's attention turned away. He let it fall to the floor as he
accepted the glass, and turned to scurry back to his Master's side.
*He was trying to dose the drink,*he told his Master mentally as he approached.
*Is he trying to get us out of the way so he can get to Takatori?*
Schuldig scanned the man's mind briefly, and laughed sardonically. *Nah, he's
just been paid by one of my rivals to make sure I get drunk tonight,* he
replied dryly. *Someone figures I'll be easier to beat in a fight if I'm drunk.
I'm surprised there's still anyone willing to try after that last battle... ah,
he's drunk as well, that explains it. Eight seconds, hurry up Liebe.*
Nagi fretted as he was brought up short by a knot of Doms who had stopped just
before him to converse. He was close enough now that he could hear Schuldig's
verbal count, just as it reached five. Frantic, he searched for an opening in
the tight press of the crowd, and found one at 'three'. He squeezed through,
using his powers to nudge the people just a little farther apart. Two seconds,
and he was only a few feet from his Master... he was going to make it!
Just as he was breathing a sigh of relief, something tangled up his right foot
and he tripped, sprawling across the hard marble floor. His only thought was to
keep the glass from dropping, and he used his powers a bit recklessly to ensure
it stayed in his hand. He wound up face down a foot from Schuldig, the glass
clutched safely in his hand, liquid still inside - but out of time.
Schuldig frowned down at him, glancing around. *Were you tripped?* he asked,
searching for the culprit at Nagi's miserable affirmative. *I didn't see it...
and whoever they are, they're not thinking about it. It might actually have
been an accident. Damn.*
Aloud, he said, "On your knees, Liebe." Wretchedly Nagi obeyed, drawing himself
up into a crouch, bowing low as he proffered the glass to his Master. Schuldig
took it from him, shaking his head. "Nice save, but you're too late. Come!"
He turned and walked away, and Nagi followed on his hands and knees, keeping
his head down in shame. Accident or not, he was mortified to have failed to
follow a command perfectly, terrified of what punishments Schuldig might have
planned for his transgression...
*I'm not mad at you, calm down!* Schuldig reprimanded him gently, making him
hang his head further. Nagi heard a mental sigh, and felt a brush of warm
reassurance. *Have I ever hurt you in a punishment? Really hurt you, I mean?*
*N-no,* he replied, stammering a bit with his anxiety. *Never.*
*I'm not about to start now, okay? This is just for show - relax.*They had
reached the 'show' area, where equipment had been set up for the use of the
Doms. All the spots were full, but at Schuldig's mental urgings, one group
finished up quickly and abandoned their spot.
"Up!" he was commanded, and he stood on shaky legs to move up to the equipment.
It was a simple wooden frame, sturdily built, with a rotating hook at centre of
the top beam. Straps dangled from the hook, meant to be wrapped around arms or
even legs, and a clever pulley system allowed the hook to be raised and
lowered. Schuldig unhooked the chain and lowered the hook while Nagi stood
there and shivered in apprehension.
The German gestured, and Nagi stepped forward until he was directly in the
middle of the frame. He raised his arms on command, and stayed still as
Schuldig snapped the straps to the cuffs on his wrists, tying his arms together
tightly above his head. When Schuldig was certain the restraints were secure,
he hauled back on the chain again, lifting Nagi up onto his tiptoes. Finally he
used the cuffs on the telekinetic's ankles to lock his feet in place as well.
"Stay still," he was told, and he used his powers to hold himself absolutely
motionless despite the trembling in his limbs. Schuldig drew a six-inch knife
from his boot, sliding the razor sharp edge beneath Nagi's silver mesh shirt
and jerking upwards abruptly, cutting the material along the seam of one
shoulder. He repeated the process on the other side, then down one side seam,
allowing the material to fall away and reveal his slave's naked chest.
Nagi heard a few quiet exclamations over his scars, presumably from people who
were relatively new to the scene. Off to one side he could see Takatori and his
cronies, their own slaves huddling abjectly at their feet as they watched him.
He shuddered in revulsion, glad as always that he belonged to Schuldig and not
one of them.
"You may move and cry out, but keep your back to me at all times," the telepath
told him aloud, for the benefit of their audience. Nagi braced himself,
wrapping his hands around the leather straps and balancing himself on his
tiptoes. Schuldig moved behind him, picking up one of the many paddles and
whips available for use, and set himself for the first blow.
Nagi cried out at the impact, more because it was expected as part of the show
than because it actually hurt. Schuldig had chosen a whip made of hundreds,
perhaps thousands of soft silky strands bound together at one end, and the feel
of it against his back tickled as much as it stung. The second blow was a
little harder, but still not enough to do more than redden the skin. He twisted
away from it, the rotation of the hook allowing him to turn and writhe but not
escape the swiftly falling blows. Each was marginally harder than the last,
allowing him to work up to taking the full force of Schuldig's strikes.
He felt the endorphins begin to rush through his system, felt himself harden
inside the tight leather harness he wore under the skirt. He'd been trained
from an early age to equate pain with pleasure, and his teenaged body
manifested that training in the only way it knew how. His cries at each strike
were closer to moans now, and he could feel the flush on his face as a burning
heat on his cheeks. He heard murmurs of approval from the crowd, and flushed
further at the admiration.
Another blow, and another - Nagi willingly gave himself over to the pain,
revelling in the skill with which Schuldig wielded the whip. With all his
previous Masters, punishment had been a thing to be feared, dreaded, even for
minor infractions such as not making a time limit. Schuldig, however, knew what
it felt like to be on the receiving end, and could gauge his submissive's
responses perfectly through his telepathy. He always knew if he was hitting too
hard, and would adjust his blows accordingly, giving hurt without true injury.
In two years he hadn't left a single scar on Nagi's body, and the telekinetic
had come to look forward to moments like this despite his apprehension about
whether THIS time Schuldig might TRULY be angry with him.
Nagi's breaths came in time with the blows, his heart beating in rhythm as
well, and a curious sort of calm descended over him. He'd never known this
feeling before Schuldig had become his Master, had never known that a
punishment could carry such a feeling of peace along with it. At this moment,
in this situation, he felt most truly in touch with himself and his place in
the universe. All that mattered in life was giving himself completely to his
Master, allowing the pain to shape his existence even as he transcended it.
He felt his body hardening further, his arousal becoming a searing counterpoint
of pain in its tight restriction. Adrenalin pumped through his veins, turning
each spike of pain into a wash of pleasure that went straight to his groin.
Each twisting movement in the straps rubbed his erection against the harness
and the smooth material of his skirt, and he could feel the wetness gathering
there, feel the pleasure pooling deep in his gut, waiting to be released.
He was panting now, struggling to control himself. It was worse than when he
woke in the mornings, hard and throbbing from a dream he barely remembered;
worse than when Schuldig went off to find his release and left Nagi panting and
squirming in the bed. He HAD to control himself, had to keep himself from
coming - he didn't have permission! But he didn't know how much longer he could
contain his body's reaction if Schuldig kept going...
*Aaa...*Even his thoughts were gasping, nearly incoherent. Each blow brought
him closer to the edge, until he was frantic with frustrated passion. *Schu...
Schu, please... oh please... I can't... I can't... gods, no more, Schuldig,
PLEASE!*
He heard Schuldig curse mentally as the German jerked his arm back, stopping
himself in mid-swing. The silky strands of the whip barely brushed against
Nagi's oversensitive back, making him shiver and mewl pathetically. He hung in
the frame, tears running down his cheeks that he couldn't remember shedding as
his body trembled with the force of his emotions.
*Shit, Liebe, are you all right?* he heard Schuldig inquire mentally. He could
feel the telepath's worry and concern, and it made him feel warm from the
inside out. *I'm sorry, I got carried away...*
*No, it's okay,*he hastened to assure his Master, dangling limply and gasping
in great ragged sobs. He felt Schuldig projecting an aura of disinterest,
causing their onlookers to turn away to find something more interesting; the
moment the last of them had turned, Schuldig gathered Nagi into his arms gently
and released the restraints.
Nagi was still shivering, though he tried to control it because he knew it
worried his Master. *Are you hurt?*Schuldig asked, running light fingers all
along his back, searching for a cut or deep welt. The touch made Nagi cry out
again softly, clutching at the German's shirt as his sensitized skin protested
the stimulation. *God, I'm sorry...*
*No, it was GOOD!* Nagi cut him off, cuddling into his arms. *It was wonderful.
I just...* he ducked his head in shame. *I couldn't control myself,* he
admitted miserably. *I'm sorry. I'll try to do better next time, I promise!*
Schuldig raised an eyebrow at him. *What do you mean, you couldn't control
yourself?*Before Nagi could find words to explain it, he felt the ghostly
pressure of the telepath's mind sinking deeper into his. Schuldig jerked back
after a moment of contact, staring at him in disbelief. *You mean, you actually
LIKE doing that?* Nagi nodded, feeling his cheeks flame at having his secret
shame revealed. *I thought... but you're always so terrified of being
punished!*
*I... I keep being afraid that THIS time I've really made you mad,* he told his
Master, shivers slowly abating as he relaxed in the warm arms that held him.
*That you'll punish me the way THEY used to do. But you never do... it's always
so... so...*He didn't have the words to describe the feeling of peace that
descended over him when Schuldig was punishing him, so he just projected it in
a wordless burst of emotion.
Schuldig's arms tightened around him reflexively, then the redhead carefully
set him down on his feet. *Can you stand?*
*I think so,*Nagi replied hesitantly, feeling his legs wobble a bit before
steadying to hold him.
*Good. We're getting out of here - you've had enough for one night, I
think.*Schuldig started walking towards where Takatori was now watching another
sub being punished, and Nagi trailed along automatically.
*But Takatori won't want to leave yet!*Nagi pointed out, confused. *He hasn't
had his turn at the equipment yet.*
*He's about to remember something urgent that he forgot to do today,* Schuldig
answered with a smirk, and Nagi stifled a chuckle. Sure enough, the politician
was just beginning to look around when they arrived at his side.
"Ah, Schuldig," he said, sounding distracted. "I'm afraid I've just recalled
something I left undone today, that absolutely must be finished before tomorrow
morning. Can't recall quite what it IS, but I remember that I need to do it.
We'll be calling it a night early."
"Of course, Takatori-sama," Schuldig replied smoothly, even managing to sound a
little disappointed. Nagi's mouth twitched, but he contained the smile easily
through long practice.
They spent the ride home in silence both physical and mental, Nagi curled up in
his seat staring out the window of the shiny red sports car. Schuldig seemed
preoccupied, keeping his thoughts to himself, and Nagi was happy to be able to
keep his own council.
He wasn't sure how Schuldig was reacting to the discovery that his slave
enjoyed being punished that way. He knew the German had been through some rough
experiences of his own, and loathed the idea of being a sub with a passion. Was
he disgusted that Nagi didn't share his revulsion? Would he want to stop being
Nagi's Dom now that he knew? The telekinetic was suddenly terrified by the idea
that he might lose the best Master he'd ever had. He wasn't ready to live on
his own yet - would he have to find another Master? If Schuldig gave up claim
to him, would Takatori take control of him? Would...
"Hey!" Schuldig exclaimed aloud, shaking him gently on one shoulder to snap him
out of his misery. "I'm not going to abandon you, okay? Put that thought right
out of your head. I'm not upset, just surprised. I thought you hated those
parties, and everything that went with them."
"I... don't hate them," Nagi admitted slowly. "I don't like Takatori and people
like him, but - not everyone there is that bad. And I LIKE giving myself up to
you, having people admire me because I'm so good. It's... it feels..." He
trailed off and shook his head. "I know you hate being there, being a Dom..."
"Where'd you get THAT idea?" Schuldig cut him off, snorting in amusement. "I
love messing with people's heads, you know that. Being a Dom is just another
kind of control. I'd have suggested that we try going to some of the more
mainstream stuff, the parties that Takatori doesn't go to because they're too
'tame', but I thought you were miserable enough being dragged to these ones."
Nagi tried hard to hide the surge of enthusiasm he felt at the suggestion.
"Could we?" he asked, not entirely successful at keeping the wistful tone out
of his voice. "You really wouldn't mind?"
"I really wouldn't," Schuldig confirmed, pulling into the underground parking
lot at Takatori towers. *It'll do you good to be around some subs who AREN'T
being coerced, I think,* he added mentally as they left the car to escort
Takatori to the elevators. *And to see that I'm not the only Dom in the world
who doesn't enjoy hurting his slaves.*
Nagi thought that over as they rode their own elevator up to their floor.
Schuldig grimaced as they exited, and Nagi heard a crash from the weight area.
"The looney's loose," the telepath muttered, changing direction and heading for
the practice room. "Damn it, how'd he get out of a straightjacket AND a locked
and bolted room?"
"It's easy to get out of a straightjacket when you can twist your joints all
out of place," Nagi pointed out, following him and wincing at the sound of
another crash. "He doesn't feel any pain, so he can do all sorts of weird
things with his body. As for the bolts... who knows? Maybe he's got a trace of
telekinesis or teleportation ability. He managed to escape from a high-security
mental ward, after all."
The door to the weight room was half open - Schuldig pushed it all the way open
and flicked on the lights, revealing the hunched form of their Irish teammate.
The one-eyed man had gotten a knife somewhere, and was tracing patterns on the
wall in his own blood, muttering to himself. Nagi spoke English well enough,
but the man's accent gave him trouble - all he could really make out were the
words 'God' and 'cry' and 'hurt'.
He reached out with his powers and wrapped them around the man before he could
slash his arm again, making him cry out in fury and struggle against the
invisible restraints. "Time to go back to your room, Farfarello," he said
calmly, and started dragging the madman along behind him. Schuldig had already
gone ahead, and met them in the hallway outside the bedrooms with a needle
already prepped.
"Hold him still," he instructed Nagi, who obeyed. The contents of the needle
were quickly emptied into a vein in the Irishman's arm and he was bundled back
into his straightjacket, muttering dire imprecations all the while.
"There!" Schuldig exclaimed, throwing the last bolt behind the madman. "That
should hold him for the night. I should have checked on him before we left -
good thing we came back early. C'mon - let's call it a night."
Nagi followed him into 'their' room, taking each article of clothing the German
carelessly dropped and neatly folding it away in the dresser they kept their
'party clothes' in. Schuldig paused with his leather pants in one hand,
watching him intently. Nagi blinked back at him, not certain what had brought
about the sudden scrutiny.
"Do you feel like I take advantage of you?" Schuldig asked him abruptly. "I
mean, what Crawford said today, about you doing all the chores - does it bug
you at all?"
Nagi shook his head, knowing the telepath would feel the sincerity in his mind.
"No, not at all. I LIKE doing things for the two of you. You help when things
get really out of hand, and it's not like I usually have anything better to
do."
Schuldig sighed, and sat down on the edge of the bed as Nagi took the pants and
put them away. "Well, I'll try to do more from now on, anyway," the redhead
muttered, sliding under the cool sheets and settling in. Nagi hastily stripped
what was left of his own clothes and joined him, feeling the telepath's strong
arms wrap around him comfortingly. "Sleep well, Liebe."
"Oyasumi, Schu," Nagi murmured in return. He fell asleep to the sound of the
German's steady heartbeat, basking in the warm feeling of being loved.
 
===============================================================================
He woke shivering, automatically reaching across the bedsheets to find the warm
body that should have been heating his back. The click of the door latching
brought him completely awake, and he groaned as he realized Schuldig was gone.
The clock on the bedside table said it was the middle of the night, which meant
only one thing - the German had given in to his body's needs again, and snuck
away to go jerk off in the next room.
Nagi kicked the sheets off his body and stretched out on his back, naked. This
position offered the least stimulation, and therefore posed the least chance of
him breaking training and coming without permission. Though after all the
stimulation earlier that night, considering how close he had come to the edge,
he doubted he would be able to hold himself back now. It wouldn't take much to
push him over, and already he could feel the first tendrils of shared pleasure
washing through him.
He bit his lip, trying to focus on the tiny hurt rather than the sharp pleasure
spiking in his groin. It didn't help, only reminding him of the soft throb he
could still feel in his back, which in turn reminded him of the pleasure he'd
felt hanging in the frame. He was hard almost instantly, and he moaned softly,
throwing one hand across his eyes as he struggled for control.
Oddly, as he lay panting on the bed, he found himself thinking of Crawford's
cryptic words to him earlier that day. "Take a chance," the precognitive had
told him, "It will make life easier for both of you." Nagi hadn't forgotten
what he'd said - it was never wise to ignore Crawford when he felt compelled to
give you advice - but he'd tucked it away in his mind until he could figure out
what it meant. It had to be about something that would occur soon, within the
next two days; otherwise he would have waited to tell Nagi until after he'd
returned, in case something happened and the future changed as it sometimes
did.
What if... what if he'd been referring to this situation, to the wild impulse
Nagi always had at moments like this, the desire to go to Schuldig and beg him
to stop tormenting them both. He KNEW the telepath wanted him, had seen it in
his eyes, experienced it in the dreams they sometimes shared while sleeping in
each other's arms. He knew the older psychic was holding himself back, sensed
that Schuldig would never be the one to make the first move, for fear of
hurting him. He certainly knew what he wanted - his body was making it
perfectly clear, and the ache in his heart told him it wasn't just physical
lust. He loved Schuldig, worshipped him, wanted to please him and pleasure him
in every way. That Schuldig would inevitably please and pleasure him in return
was only a side benefit. Could he make the telepath understand that without him
concluding that Nagi was slipping back into his old dependent behaviours?
Did he have the guts to get up and walk into his own room, where Schuldig lay
pleasuring himself on the bed that nominally belonged to Nagi? Did he have the
strength of will to make a decision like that, to go against his own nature and
confront his Master? This might be the hardest thing he'd ever done in his
life...
He cried out softly as another sharp wave of pleasure hit him, and found
himself on his feet before he'd really thought about it. Shivering with fear,
he forced himself to take a step, and then another, ignoring the part of his
mind that was screaming at him to get back in bed where he belonged. Crawford
wouldn't have told him to take the chance if he had foreseen something bad
happening...
Of course, Crawford MIGHT have been referring to something else. He paused with
one hand on the doorknob, shaking. What if he was wrong? What if this wasn't
what he was supposed to take a chance about? What if...
He banged his forehead against the wood of the door, trying to quiet his
thoughts. Schuldig was occupied enough with his own pleasure that he probably
wasn't paying attention to any outside thoughts, but if he DID hear he would
come charging in to see what had upset Nagi so badly. One way or another, he
had to make a decision and stick to it.
Straightening, he squared his shoulder and opened the door, marching into the
hallway. His knees were shaking so hard his teeth were rattling, but he told
himself again and again that Schuldig had never hurt him, WOULD never hurt him,
no matter what. Even if he was rejected, taking the initiative like this was a
major step for him, and Schuldig would be proud of him for that. If he could
only reach the door to his room - when had the few steps between their bedrooms
lengthened into a distance of miles, anyway?
His hands were so sweaty and trembling so badly that he couldn't get a grip on
the doorknob when he did finally reach the door. Forcing himself to
concentrate, he collected his powers enough to flip the latch, letting the door
swing silently open on well-oiled hinges. He caught his breath at the sight
that greeted him - Schuldig, naked and sprawled over his bed, back arched as he
drove his hips upward, fucking his own hand...
"Sch...Schu?" he croaked, hating himself for stuttering. The telepath gave a
startled cry and bolted upright, staring at him in the doorway as he struggled
to control his harsh breathing. Nagi had caught him right on the edge, and he
didn't look pleased at the interruption. Inwardly, Nagi quaked.
"Schist..." The German drew a hand across his brow, wiping away the sweat that
had collected there. A warm flush spread across his cheeks as he realized he'd
been caught red-handed, so to speak. "What is it, Liebe? Something wrong?"
Now that the moment was at hand, Nagi found his courage was failing him. "I..."
He gulped, forcing himself to take a step forward. "I wanted... I..." He
couldn't vocalize it, so instead he projected all his frustrated longing at the
telepath, backed by the agonized passion only a tormented fifteen-year-old
could feel. "Gebieter, please," he begged, the name he called Schuldig by at
the parties slipping out without his thinking about it.
Schuldig gaped at him from the bed, absorbing everything he was trying to say
and struggling to process it. "Nagi, you... Gott. You don't know what you're
asking for..."
"Yes I do!" Nagi cried, taking two more steps forward and throwing himself down
beside the bed, buying his face in his Master's knees. Schuldig caressed his
hair reassuringly, and he drew a ragged breath, only then realizing that he was
crying. He'd come this far; he couldn't stop now. "Please, I need you," he
whispered, choking on his tears. "I've tried so hard to be good, but I don't
know if I can take it any more. Please!"
Schuldig read in his mind the struggles he'd had in the last few months, and
made a surprised noise. "Gott, Liebe, you don't need me to take care of that
kind of thing. Just do it yourself... you have my permission, okay? You should
have asked before."
"But I don't WANT to do it myself!" he protested, drawing a startled
exclamation from Schuldig at his uncharacteristic vehemence. "I want you to do
it! I want to do it to you! I know what I'm asking for, Schuldig... gods, I've
been doing it all my life, just about..."
"And that's exactly why you shouldn't be coming to me!" Schuldig cut him off
harshly. "I refuse to use you the way those bastards did..."
"But you wouldn't be using me," Nagi said, raising tearful blue eyes to meet
his Master's lambent green gaze. "Not like they did. You care about me,
Schuldig; I know you do even if you don't ever say it in so many words. You
would never hurt me, you would never take me against my will. I trust you! I
love you! I want you to show me what it's supposed to be like..." Whatever he
wanted to say next was lost in a sob, followed by another and another, as he
poured out his heartache uncontrollably.
"Of course I care about you, Liebchen," Schuldig murmured, sliding off the bed
to gather the shaking telekinetic in his arms, rocking him gently. "I'm sorry
it's so hard for me to say it, but you know I do. I just don't ever want to
hurt you, Liebe. I don't want to be like them."
"You're not!" Nagi hiccupped and buried his face in the redhead's neck,
breathing deeply of the scent he associated with happiness and safety. "You're
not like them, you could never be like them. Please don't turn me away!"
"I'm so proud of you for coming in here," Schuldig told him, stroking his back
as he glowed with pleasure. "I can't even imagine what that must have taken for
you. I could never turn you away, Liebe. Haven't you figured it out yet? You've
got me wrapped around your finger - I can't deny you a damn thing." He brought
his face to Nagi's and kissed him gently, close-lipped. Nagi revelled in the
sweet feeling, wrapping his arms around Schuldig's neck and kissing him back
with everything he had in him.
It was different from when he'd been kissed before, softer and more tender.
Schuldig had opened his mental barriers, and Nagi didn't have to wonder if
Schuldig really did love him, he could FEEL it. He wanted so badly to touch his
Master, and rejoiced when he was given mental permission.
He ran his hands down over the German's chest, fingers expertly stroking and
caressing, inexorably finding all the best places and lingering there to
greatest effect. Schuldig mirrored his movements, exploring him and giving him
incentive to explore in return. He used everything he'd learned in those long,
horrible days and nights of his slavery, turned it into something beautiful,
something to be desired.
He broke for air, leaving them both gasping and panting. Schuldig immediately
lowered his head to nibble at his collarbone, making Nagi moan aloud with
pleasure. *Take me,* he begged mentally, abandoning clumsy speech entirely. He
felt the wave of responding lust from Schuldig at the very thought, and
revelled in it. In this, he realized, HE had power over Schuldig, just as the
telepath had said. Schuldig desired him, wanted him badly - and more
importantly, he wanted Nagi to want him back. It made him just a bit bolder,
able to express his own needs a little more clearly, both to himself and to his
Master.
*Not yet,* Schuldig told him, his mental voice a little ragged. *I want to be
sure you're enjoying this, first.*
*I am!* Nagi reassured him, projecting his pleasure back through their bond and
feeling Schuldig shudder at the feedback loop. *It feels so good, so different!
I want more...*
*Greedy,* Schuldig teased him, drawing away and standing. "Up on the bed," he
said aloud, his nasal voice husky with passion. "The floor is too damn hard."
Nagi scrambled to obey, as much from lust as from a desire to please his
Master. Schuldig knelt before him, pressing on his shoulders to get him to lie
down. He didn't resist, anxious for the feel of Schuldig deep inside him.
*Not yet, I told you,*the telepath reprimanded him in amusement. *Just relax,
and enjoy yourself.*
Before Nagi could even wonder what he was up to, the German man had curled
around him with his head in his lap, and wrapped skilled lips around Nagi's
erection. Nagi cried out in shock at the unfamiliar sensation, his hips
snapping up into the wet warmth involuntarily.
*Never had anybody do this to you before?* Schuldig inquired idly, expertly
drawing him all the way inside and applying suction. Nagi thought he'd died and
gone to heaven - surely it had never felt this good when HE had performed this
act with one of his masters! They would never have wanted him to ever do
anything else...
Schuldig's nasal chuckle rippled through his mind, making him shiver a bit.
*Trust me Liebe, this is the least of it. It only gets better from here.*
Nagi couldn't imagine how that could be possible. Every nerve ending in his
body was singing, sensation rushing rapidly through him and building to a peak
that was centred in his groin. He struggled against it, clenching his hands in
the sheets and fighting to hold it off with all his considerable will. He
couldn't come, he must not come, he didn't have permission!
*Let it go, Liebe,* Schuldig ordered, reading his breathless battle within his
mind and taking pity on him. Nagi succumbed with a harsh cry of relief, not
even realizing till then that he'd been unconsciously using his powers to stem
the unstoppable tide. His seed burst out of him with a strength that was almost
painful, in the first orgasm of his young life that he had ever truly wanted.
Schuldig swallowed every last bittersweet drop, purring like an oversized cat
as Nagi was left gasping incoherently on the bed. Rising at last, he levered
himself up to lie beside his young slave, cradling him gently and stroking his
hair reassuringly. "It's okay," he said aloud in response to Nagi's attempts to
choke down the tears that had sprung to his eyes. "You're allowed to get
emotional. It can be overwhelming the first time you're with someone who
actually gives a shit about you." He gave a short laugh, and added somewhat
bitterly, "Not that I have a hell of a lot of personal experience, mind, but
I've felt it in other people's minds."
Nagi was surprised at the idea that Schuldig had never been with someone
voluntarily, either. Of course, he knew the German had been a slave as well,
but he'd been seventeen or so when he'd first been taken... surely he'd had
some experiences before that?
"If I did, I don't remember them," Schuldig reminded him. "Did you forget? I've
got amnesia. But I at least was old enough when they started with me. You were
just a little kid the first time."
Nagi hesitantly reached up to stroke his face, not certain the permission to
touch was still in effect. He was reassured when Schuldig turned his cheek into
the caress, sighing with pleasure. *Take me,*he invited once more, needing that
final physical connection between them to truly make it real.
Still Schuldig hesitated. *You deserve better than me just rutting into you
with barely a moment's thought for your pleasure,* he protested, though he did
nothing to stop Nagi's hands from trailing boldly down his chest to his
erection. He moaned when the telekinetic's small fingers wrapped around his
shaft, pumping softly in imitation of the act he was asking for.
*I don't need more,*he said, letting the telepath sense his utter contentment
and happiness. *Next time, if you like. Anything you want - you know I can't
say 'no' to you. But right now, I just need to feel you inside me. I need to
belong to you mind, soul AND body. Please?*
Schuldig sighed, and tugged his hand away reluctantly. *I already told you I
can't resist you,* he replied gently. *Just stay here for a moment. Don't
move.*
He was on his feet and out the door before Nagi could do more than blink in
shock at being abandoned. He froze his muscles, obeying the command to stay
still, even though he was fairly certain the German hadn't meant it literally.
No sense in risking displeasing his Master at this point. But... why had
Schuldig left? Had Nagi done something to upset him? Had he been too forward,
begging to be taken like that? Suddenly he was miserably certain that he should
have just shut up and let Schuldig do whatever he pleased, rather than trying
to prod things in the direction he wanted them to go. Would his Master abandon
him now, despite what he'd said? He didn't think he could stand to be rejected
now...
*Hey, stop that!* Schuldig exclaimed, catching the drift of his thoughts as he
returned. Nagi peered up at him with uncertain eyes, all his previous doubts
flooding back to the surface. *I'm not MAD, baka, I just needed to get
something,*Schuldig told him, rolling his eyes. *And yes, you can move. Christ,
you'd think I'd have learned to watch my mouth around you by now, wouldn't
you?* He eased back onto the bed, stroking Nagi from shoulder to hip
reassuringly. In his other hand was the jar of Vaseline from the bathroom, and
Nagi stared at it curiously.
Schuldig saw the direction of his gaze, and chuckled ruefully. *I wasn't
exactly expecting this, so I don't have anything better. I'll get something
tomorrow.*
Nagi frowned, puzzled. *But... what's it for?* he asked, unable to fathom what
Schuldig was planning to do with it.
The lanky telepath stared at him. "Jesus, they NEVER thought about you at all,
did they?" he blurted out aloud, sounding somewhat shaken. "No wonder it always
hurt you... you're so damn little, without lube they probably tore you every
damn time." He grew progressively more furious as he spoke, and Nagi shrank
back on himself again, fearing he'd caused the anger.
*Not your fault,*Schuldig whispered to him mentally, projecting a wash of
affection and desire that Nagi basked in, opening up again. *I'm mad at them,
not you. Bastards. This is for lubrication, Liebe, to make sure I don't hurt
you. Spread your legs.*
Nagi obeyed, watching curiously as Schuldig scooped out a generous dollop of
the jelly and reached down to spread it around his slave's asshole. He gasped a
bit at the chill of it, but it warmed rapidly to the temperature of his skin.
He felt a gentle pressure at the bud of muscle and relaxed it easily, long
practice allowing one of Schuldig's fingers to slip in with hardly any effort
at all. The telepath added a second finger, stretching the opening a bit, his
fingertips curving upwards to hit something inside Nagi that made him keen
softly with pleasure. He shamelessly projected everything he was feeling,
squirming beneath a new onslaught of three fingers like a cat in heat. He heard
Schuldig moan as he picked up the sensations, and the fingers withdrew.
He cried out with the sharp feeling of loss, something he'd never experienced
before. He'd always been glad to be rid of the intrusion to his body, when he
felt anything at all. Now he wanted those fingers back, craved that feeling of
pressure, the feeling of being filled and completed.
Then Schuldig was leaning over him, and something much bigger was questing for
entrance to his body, and he understood that he hadn't been filled or completed
at all. The fingers evoked just a pale ghost of what he felt now as the German
slid home inside him, sweat dripping down from the redhead's body to splash
against him. One drop landed on his lips and he licked them, quickly catching
the salty flavour of his Master. Seeing that, Schuldig leaned down and locked
lips with him, parting his lips with his tongue. Nagi received him eagerly,
opening for him in every way he knew.
With his shields down, in this kind of close contact, Schuldig's mind was
overlapping Nagi's in a way their usual bond only vaguely approximated. Nagi
felt as though he were fucking himself as well as being fucked, an
unprecedented experience for him. Even with other slaves, on exhibition, he had
always been the uke, the receiver. Now for the first time he knew what it felt
like to be on the other end. Despite the fact that he'd already come less than
five minutes previously, his body was hard again instantly.
Schuldig withdrew briefly, and slammed back home before Nagi could even begin
to form a protest to the loss. Again and again he repeated the pattern, his
movements starting slow and deliberate but losing control and gaining speed
with each thrust. Nagi arched up against him, straining for every centimetre of
penetration he could get. He wanted it all, everything Schuldig had to give
him, and he got it.
Wrapped up in each other's minds, their mutual orgasms hit them in a sudden
rushing tide, catching them both off guard. They cried out in unison,
collapsing together in a heap of sweaty limbs.
Nagi was crying again, too exhausted mentally and physically to hold back the
tears of joy. Schuldig rolled off him with an effort, causing them to
disconnect with a soft pop. The loss was almost painful, and Nagi was surprised
when Schuldig immediately wrapped him in a strong embrace, shifting their
bodies so that he cupped Nagi from behind.
*Why are you surprised?* Schuldig asked him sleepily. *Don't you want to
cuddle?*
Nagi blinked. Of course he did, but somehow he'd expected Schuldig to roll over
and go to sleep, or even get up and go back into the other room.
*That's what THEY always did,*Schuldig reminded him gently. *I'm not like that.
Besides, this is how we ALWAYS sleep, baka. I don't have the energy to move
back to my room, and there's certainly nothing wrong with your bed.*
Nagi relaxed and allowed himself to bask in the love radiating from the
telepath. He snagged a washcloth from across the room with his powers, sending
it floating out and running it under the tap before bringing it back to wash
them both off. Schuldig chuckled softly when he felt the warm cloth against his
skin, pulling back from Nagi long enough to let the cloth do its job. He was
asleep even before Nagi finished cleaning himself off, and Nagi was close to
joining him as he dumped the cloth in the laundry basket.
This has to have been the best birthday anybody ever had, he thought to
himself, floating in a sea of warm happiness. I have to find a way to thank
Crawford - I never would have had the courage to do this if he hadn't told me
to take a chance. Maybe I should find out when HIS birthday is?Chuckling at the
thought of the look on the uptight American's face at being presented with a
birthday present, he drifted off to sleep, comforted by the feel of the arms of
his Master - and now his lover - wrapped securely around him.
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