Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/305757.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Weiß_Kreuz
  Relationship:
      Naoe_Nagi/Schuldig
  Character:
      Naoe_Nagi, Schuldig
  Additional Tags:
      Bathroom_Sex, Public_Sex, Hand_Jobs
  Series:
      Part 21 of WKverse
  Stats:
      Published: 2009-10-22 Words: 2842
****** Silence ******
by voksen
Summary
     in which schuldig and nagi have sex in a rosenkreuz bathroom.
In Rosenkreuz they say Crawford smiles like a shark; all teeth, no humor. What
they say about Schuldig is nasty enough that Nagi doesn't like to think about
it - and that they don't like to talk about it too much in front of him, now
that he's in Schwarz.
But Nagi learned a long time ago that the first rule of survival is shut up and
keep your head down, so that's what he does, giving them all his best
imitation-shark smile until he can slip out of the common room: not unnoticed,
but unstopped.
He heads down the hall and into the bathroom, the thin door swinging shut
behind him. It doesn't cut out all the noise, but it's a little more peaceful;
over the last two years, despite Schuldig, Nagi has gotten used to quiet, to
having only two other people near him, despite how often they live in cities.
He washes his hands at a sink, then ducks into a stall, closing it behind him
to put another tiny, meaningless barrier between himself and everyone out
there.
What will they say about him, later, (maybe now, while he's not there to hear
them), he wonders. Maybe that he's quiet, or that he -
That he thinks too loudly, Schuldig puts in, the smirk in his tone all but
visible, like a Cheshire cat hovering toothily in the back of Nagi's mind.
Nagi jerks around, staring out through the crack in the door, telekinetic
feelers springing into place throughout the room. Schuldig's not there, of
course, so he piles his shields thicker until his mind feels thick and stuffy,
hoping no one else heard.
Schuldig laughs into his head as if the extra shielding meant nothing. Nagi's
pretty sure that's just because they've been so close for so long, but if there
are other reasons - he thinks there might be - he's not going to think about
them here, in the middle of Rosenkreuz. They didn't, Schuldig says, but you're
cute when you worry too much.
I am not cute, Nagi begins, his normal reply to the casual teasing he's grown
to accept, then stops when the bathroom door swings open. He tenses further,
gathering his power to him - and then relaxes with a mixture of relief and
irritation when he sees a flash of orange and white through the crack at the
edge of the door, then a slightly clearer look as Schuldig stops in front of
the sinks, preens himself in the mirror, winks at Nagi in the reflection.
Schuldig runs his hands through his long, unbound hair, then turns, leaning on
the sink and watching the door of Nagi's stall, eyes running lazily over the
full-length metal sheet. It went fine, he says, answering a thought Nagi hadn't
even finished yet.
It annoys him when Schuldig does that, just a little; he likes the illusion of
privacy sometimes, even though he's somehow begun to depend on the bonds
between the three of them. But Schuldig can't help it; being an irritating nosy
shit is part of who he is just like being a telepath is.
Schuldig grins at him widely, teeth flashing bright white in the fluorescent
light even through the tiny slit in the door. If I'm an irritating nosy shit,
he says, what does that make a guy who runs off and locks himself up in a
bathroom to think about me, huh?
Nagi doesn't miss the fact that he's been upgraded from Schuldig's normal
casual 'kid' to 'guy', but he does his very best to bury the little thrill that
sends through him in the very bottom of his mind. Not that it works, of course;
that soft ripple of amusement, half chuckle, half smirk, rolls through his mind
again. It does strange things to the bottom of his stomach, and he's suddenly
aware that they're alone together, that Crawford is who-knows-where and that
while they're surrounded by psychics, Schuldig is almost certainly strong
enough to - he cuts himself off, fiercely, forcing his mind into mathematical
equations and theoretics.
Don't worry about it, Schuldig smiles, slipping forwards: by the time Nagi
notices, he's already at the door, pushing it open; Nagi stumbles backwards,
catches himself with invisible hands as he trips, and then Schuldig is in the
stall with him. The stall door swings shut behind him, latch catching with an
echoing click just as the outer door swings open, hitting the wall with a bang
and a rattle. Footsteps cross over to the urinals and whoever it is unzips and
starts to piss, humming loudly and extremely out of tune.
Nagi looks up (and up) at Schuldig, who always seems shorter than he is at long
distances because of his fitted jackets and slim build, blinks, and remembers
that they have a reason for being at Rosenkreuz besides hiding in bathrooms.
You said it went well, he says, and Schuldig's assurances or not, he thinks as
quietly as he can.
You really are paranoid. Sometimes Schuldig likes to do that, answer with not-
answers, but if there's a pattern to it beyond simply when he feels like being
a pain in the ass, Nagi has yet to figure out what it is. He's about to
protest, but Schuldig cuts off the half-formed thought again. Yeah, it went
fine. They've got the crazy fuck locked up down in some lab, but they think
he'll be useful. Bet we get a nice bonus.
There's an undeniable undertone of distaste in Schuldig's mental voice, not
that Nagi can blame him; he didn't spend long in the labs, as unadorned garden-
variety telekinesis isn't hard to quantify. Schuldig, he knows, has two gifts,
rare enough to keep him down for far longer; the 'crazy fuck' - Farfarello - is
more of an unknown.
He thinks there might even have been a trace of pity there, though there's
certainly no sign of it in Schuldig's face.
Don't push your luck, Schuldig tells him, though he sounds more amused than
angry at Nagi's brief foray into amateur psychoanalysis. For some reason, he
sounds clearer than usual despite the shields Nagi did his best to pile on
earlier, as if -
The bathroom door slams open again and there are more footsteps, low grunts of
acknowledgement from the men outside, and Schuldig's hand is on his face, his
long, thin fingers hot against Nagi's cheek, and he realizes suddenly that he
can hear Schuldig so well because Schuldig's shields are around his own,
wrapping their minds intimately together in a way they've occasionally
practiced, but never used for real.
He realizes that he's thinking of hiding from Rosenkreuz as being for real.
Schuldig's hand slips, his finger pressing hard against Nagi's mouth, warning
him to silence, and Nagi shivers. He can't even convince himself that it's from
the chill of his side pressing against the tile wall through his thin school
jacket, and what he knows, Schuldig knows. He swallows silently, blushing, and
tears his eyes away from the white jacket in front of him, staring blindly at
the tile instead.
One set of footsteps goes to the door; it opens, closes again. With gentle
pressure - Nagi could easily resist it, but it doesn't even occur to him -
Schuldig lifts his chin; Nagi's eyes flick to his, as irresistably as if
Schuldig had been controlling his will.
Saa, Nagi-kun, he says, and this close to him physically and mentally - to a
telepath Nagi knows now is a hell of a lot stronger than Rosenkreuz thinks he
is - Nagi sees a flicker of memory, remembers himself two years ago from
Schuldig's eyes, fresh out of Rosenkreuz and clinging to Crawford, coming
through an airport. He remembers Schuldig talking to him just like this, mind
to mind, in Japanese, and remembers that Schuldig's accent used to be even
worse than it is now. It's disorienting and terribly strange, but when he tries
to pull away, he finds that Schuldig's other arm is around his back. He knows
he could get away, if he wanted to, but it would make noise, and there's still
someone out there... and deep down, he really doesn't want to get away. He
knows Schuldig, and he doesn't think Schuldig would hurt him. Not really. He
trusts him, and if it makes him stupid to have gone through Rosenkreuz and come
out the other side able to trust, well...
Schuldig's hand shifts slightly, his finger brushing against Nagi's upper lip,
tracing the curve, and Nagi's breathing hitches. And I thought you were cute
when you were paranoid.
Nagi's heard this tone from him before, though never directed at him; sly,
teasing, seductive. It brings the shiver back, leaves him uncertain, off-
balance. He opens his mouth, draws a breath, and Schuldig shakes his head, hair
swaying slightly.
Quiet.
In a horrified, embarrassed flash, Nagi remembers they're not alone and snaps
his mouth shut. Schuldig, he begins, then pauses, flustered - and doubly so,
knowing that Schuldig is undoubtedly enjoying his discomfort, trust or not.
It's...well, it's who he is.
Can't blame a cat for being a cat, hmm? Schuldig says, leaning down teasingly
close, near enough that the hair hanging in front of his shoulders brushes
against Nagi's chest, his face inches away. That's my little pragmatist.
Nagi rallies and stands up straight, despite that bringing them closer still.
Isn't that a big word for you? he snips right back, and then, entirely on
impulse, brushes Schuldig's hand away with a wisp of power and leans up to
press their lips together. It's probably, he thinks, one of the bravest and
stupidest things he's ever done.
Schuldig's surprise is all but tangible around him, his hands on Nagi frozen,
and Nagi thinks maybe for an instant he's uncertain, too - but then Schuldig's
hands tighten on his shoulder, his side, and he deepens the kiss, tongue
sliding into Nagi's mouth, tangling with his own.
Nagi's suddenly out of his depth again, but not fatally. Raising his hands, he
sets them on Schuldig's chest, deliberately pushing his palms flat: not enough
to shove him away, just enough to feel the tight, flat muscle through the
expensive white suit. He's seen Schuldig half-naked before, wet from the shower
with a towel around his hips, and the memory of that - combined with the
physical reality of this - has him suddenly, achingly hard. Against his side,
Schuldig's own erection is equal and obvious.
Schuldig pulls away from the kiss, slowly, then bites at his lower lip. The
sudden shiver of pain makes Nagi's hands clench in his jacket. Below the pain,
like an echo rippling back to him, he feels Schuldig's intense pleasure at
causing it - at feeling it - before he shifts away again. It's unreal, sick,
twisted, and he can't deny how good it feels for either of them.
I like this side of you, Schuldig tells him. You're sexy when you shut up.
The sheer unfairness and hypocrisy of that statement make Nagi's eyes widen,
until he realizes that Schuldig is laughing at him again, subvocally, subtly.
He's the one to pull back this time, but it's not to give in. He's not going to
let even Schuldig back him down. You're hardly Crawford, he retorts, eyes fixed
on Schuldig's, raising his chin and squaring his shoulders.
Schuldig's answering smile is wordless and feral. There are footsteps again
outside, flushing, the door opening and reclosing. In cover of the slight
noise, Schuldig spins him around, pulling him close - his cock pressing against
Nagi's lower back, his hands sliding across Nagi's chest in echo of Nagi's own
earlier movements. And you're hardly me. He bends his head and swipes his
tongue hot and wet across the curve of Nagi's ear. So it all works out.
As Nagi opens his mouth to say something aloud now that they're alone,
Schuldig's fingers find his nipple though his shirt, pinching - it's more
pleasure than pain, even from only his own perspective, and he makes a tiny,
desperate whimper instead, deeply embarrassed at how needy he sounds, (he is,)
from a kiss and a few touches.
Hush. Schuldig's fingers don't stop. One hand stays busy at his nipple,
rubbing, pulling; the other slides down horribly slowly, finding the gap
between his uniform shirt and pants and brushing over bare skin, across Nagi's
navel.
But, he objects weakly. The reason is clear soon enough, though; half a second
later the door opens again.
He can't even begin to guess how many people have come in while Schuldig is
undoing his pants; they fall open immediately, his erection tenting his briefs
out, the sudden freedom a relief so sharp it aches. Nagi trembles with the
effort to stay silent, but his mouth falls open again as Schuldig's fingers
close on his cock, hot like they're leaving brands through the thin cotton.
Before he can make a sound, the hand that was at his chest is clamped over his
mouth and Schuldig's lips are back at his ear.
Can you stay quiet? he asks, mouth moving soundlessly as the words form between
them, or do you want help?
Nagi can't think for long seconds under the assault. I... don't know, he says
finally, truthfully, and is rewarded by a long, sweet stroke that nearly makes
his knees give out. He could steady himself, he knows, but his control isn't
the best under duress and... slowly, deliberately, he leans back into
Schuldig's arms, squirming a little as he moves. Schuldig's hips press forwards
against him instinctually, his cock hard between them. The echo isn't the only
pleasure he feels from it; it feels good to be wanted like this, physically,
for himself, not just as someone small and supposedly weak. If they were alone,
really alone, together, then they'd be naked by now; it would be Schuldig's
bare cock against him, skin to skin, at his back and and against his ass, maybe
even -
Schuldig's voice lashes into his head, sharp and hungry. You have a dirty
fucking mind, Nagi. His right hand is tight, too tight, over Nagi's mouth; the
other dips into his briefs, shoving them down, then sliding back up from his
balls all the way up the length of his cock, thumb catching at the head then
running easily over it, wet and sloppy. I like it.
Nagi thrashes soundlessly against him, his back arching, eyes rolling. Schuldig
keeps stroking and stroking, his hand moving incredibly slick and smooth as
Nagi's control disintegrates. He can't stop thinking about it, the two of them
naked, fucking, Schuldig bending him over and shoving his cock as deep as it'll
go, stuffing him full - and he can't tell if they're his thoughts or
Schuldig's, or Schuldig making him think it. Whatever, whichever, he wants it
badly. Fuck me, he begs desperately, half lost in the fantasy, entirely
consumed with the need to come. Schuldig, please, please, please!
Schuldig's growl is entirely silent, but it echoes through him like a shout; he
bites down hard on Nagi's ear, hand clamping so tightly on his mouth to keep
him quiet that his thumb covers his nose, but Nagi doesn't even notice he can't
breathe. He shudders forwards into Schuldig's fist, unable to separate the
sensations, unable to care. His hands fly up, grabbing onto the hand covering
his mouth, nails digging into it, and yes, yes, he's coming, trembling
helplessly, orgasm ripping every last bit of strength from him.
When he struggles back to reality, he's faced with a semen-splattered door and
a rather sore ear - and Schuldig's erection still poking him demandingly in the
back. And, of course, Schuldig holding him upright and mostly stable, the deep
red crescents from Nagi's fingernails clearly visible on the back of his hand.
Nagi's pants are already done up; he can feel Schuldig's amusement, though he
can't see the grin, as his embarrassment and self-consciousness at being taken
care of starts to rise again.
Schuldig lets go of him, then suddenly slaps his ass, making Nagi squeak in
startled outrage, then immediately go white, horrified that he might have been
heard. Reaching forwards, Schuldig unlocks the stall door and pulls it open,
nudging Nagi forwards. Don't worry so much, he says, and gets in another brief
feel until Nagi, disconcerted, slaps his hand away. Go on. Crawford wants to
see you and you've got about a minute to get down the hall before someone else
comes along.
He half-turns to look back as he stumbles out of the stall, but Schuldig closes
the door behind him meaningfully. Get, he says again. Don't keep him waiting,
he's already in a bad mood.
Nagi gets, doing his best not to think about Schuldig jerking off without him,
reminding himself that he is in the middle of Rosenkreuz and Schuldig is
probably too busy by now to back him up - and that this is definitely not how
he wants people to remember and talk about him.
And if that's been Schuldig's plan all along, well, he's just as big an asshole
as they say.
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