P.O.D --- Payment on Delivery

Twelve: Inheritance
"Hit the door running."

    The day that Schuldich had predicted would go so well was, by other people's standards, a complete and total mess. To people like Ken, who had no real clue what was going on around them, it was a day of shock and outrage. Everywhere people were talking about the Takatori scandal. The proud empire had taken a blow with the accident that had occurred at his bank but after his allies had pulled their support, the Takatori clan was just a breath away from being forced to declare bankruptcy. Newspapers were clutched in every hand as the land of the rising sun reeled under such revelations from a man they had been weeks away from electing prime minister.

    To the people that lived in Schuldich and Farfarello's world, it was still a horrible mess, but the pair were able to find dark amusement in it. Takatori's stumble sent ripples through the entire underworld. Very few people could afford to consider themselves neutral in the face of Takatori's power, so most had picked for or against years ago. Now as the mighty giant was shoved, truer feelings began to surface. Greed and satisfaction colored the gazes that watched, waiting for the last ram that would send the hated Takatoris crashing to the ground.

    Whereas the sunlit world whispered about stocks and pornography rings, the underworld hissed about who was to blame for Takatori's fall and what was going to happen. There were rumors it was Farfarello, the vicious, mysterious foreigner who had shown up in Japan years ago and somehow managed to scoop up a chunk of the pie the Takatoris were working on. Others said they had heard the Mastermind was involved, though this was generally brushed aside as being too big a project for such a man.

    But behind all of these were the doubts and the worries and the wonderings, all boiling down into one whispered question.

    "What of Takatori Mamoru?"

    The rumors had started, though none knew where from. Word was that Takatori Mamoru had survived the death of his family.

    For over a hundred years, the ruling family of Japan's underworld was a family by the name of Matsumichi, a people that managed to straddle the line that so many said was impossible, sitting in both light and shadows. The greed and corruption that should have infiltrated the blood lines after so many years of power never came, and they viewed with both admiration and respect. Called the black samurai of Japan, they were a wealthy, prestigious family that oversaw all illegal activities in the island nation. The money they made was given back to their people and donated to the government and needy through charities, and for years they kept Japan's criminals from going too far. The police would often scoff at such a notion, for they viewed any criminal activity as too far, but the Matsumichis managed to make it work, and Japan was a relatively peaceful country despite its rapid evolution.

    Things changed the day the Takatoris came into the picture. Greedy for power and wanting to be in on the prestige, Takatori Shuuichi managed to win the Matsumichis over and took Matsumichi Kikuno for his wife. Together they had one child by the name of Takatori Mamoru, and through the marriage and the son's birth, inheritance was guaranteed to go to the Takatori line if something unfortunate should happen to the Matsumichis.

    Something unfortunate did happen.

    The Matsumichis were slaughtered when Mamoru was nine years old, and the loyalties hadn't even finished moving to Mamoru's family when Kikuno committed suicide. Later that same day Shuiichi drove himself off a bridge, supposedly caught in the grips of despair, and as far as anyone knew, Mamoru died with him. Either way, the boy was never seen again.

    And so a century of power and prestige jumped to the only people left to call family, gathering close around Takatori Reiji. While some disagreed with the way he did things, others had no problems adapting, and no one really had the right to question him when the loyalty had been transferred through blood and time. Over the course of three days, Takatori Reiji rocketed from being nothing to being the god of Japan's underworld, and he spent several years putting the pieces in place to rule Japan's government as well.

    It seemed as if he would have succeeded, if not for the appearance of a white haired foreigner in Japan. As the rumors continued to circulate about the missing Takatori child and this "Farfarello" demon that was so forcefully kicking Takatori's legs out from under him, people began to wonder. Farfarello had put in his first appearance just a day after Kikuno's family died, and he had instantly managed to win over supporters that should have transferred to Takatori Reiji.

    And so the whispers grew to a hum and then agitated chattering as the lords of the shadows tried to figure out rumor from fact and put the missing pieces in place. Through the confusion and the noise only one thing seemed to be certain: war for the throne of the underworld was just a few hours away, and the time to pick sides was at hand.


    Farfarello showed up at the door at half past nine with the order to get dressed. Schuldich was the one to answer the door and Farfarello handed over a heavy bag. The German eyed it for a long moment before arching an eyebrow at the shorter Irishman in front of him, and Farfarello offered him a lazy little smile. The thug lord was dressed rather nice in some black make-believe suit, and Schuldich found himself instinctively scanning the man before reminding himself that that was probably the fastest way to get killed. He forced his eyes up to Farfarello's face.

    "What's the occasion?" he wanted to know.

    "We're going to have company," Farfarello answered. "Get dressed."

    "Anyone I know?" Schuldich asked cheekily.

    "None that know you," was the easy response, and Farfarello gave a snap of his fingers. "Move."

    Schuldich frowned at his back as he turned away, wondering about the significance of the word order. He had a feeling he knew what Farfarello meant and he was hoping he was wrong. At last he stepped back inside the apartment and closed the door, carrying the bag down the hall to the bedroom. Ken was slouched against the TV stand, chewing on a bagel as his breakfast, and the other two were stretched out on their stomachs going over a map of Tokyo.

    "Here," Schuldich said, setting it down. "Your prissy landlord wants us to get changed." There were ties at the top and bottom to keep the plastic closed and he set about undoing them. He ended up missing one and had to go back for it before he could rip the plastic free, and he eyed the black outfits before him. Each hanger had a tag on it announcing whose it was to wear, and he gave a low whistle as he picked Ken's up from the top of the stack. Leather and silk hung to the floor, cool to the touch.

    "Doesn't that beat all," he said, holding it out towards Ken. "Here, go try it on."

    "…That?" Ken asked blankly. "Is that a real outfit?"

    "It looks better than the track pants you're wearing now," Schuldich pointed out, and he motioned for Ken to get up. "Come on." His was second on the pile and he pulled it out of the way as Nagi and Omi came to investigate. At last Ken pushed himself up and came to take the hanger. The four spread out as best as they could in the apartment to change and Schuldich didn't miss the fact that the outfit had been specifically tailored for his body. He wasn't particularly surprised, but he wasn't happy about it, either, and he chucked his discarded clothes over to where his Choice Enterprises basket sat.

    Nanami showed up at their door as they were finishing up, dressed in a gothic black skirt of lace and ribbons. Even her blue hair had been dyed black and was, for once, styled down into to braids to either side of her head. Schuldich didn't miss the way Nagi went still at the sight of her. He didn't wait on the boy to remember how to move again but slipped past him, dragging Ken along by his cuff. The two teenagers joined them in the hall and the younger two followed Nanami towards the stairs while Ken slowed long enough to lock his door.

    Schuldich caught him by the shoulder when he was done, turning him around to pin him against the door. Ken had his mouth open to protest but he decided to swallow the words instead and took advantage of his new position to consider Schuldich's outfit. Schuldich was busy admiring the way the leather looked as it ran over Ken's lean form and he pressed a hand against the other's abdomen. It made Ken seem less like such a pansy, less like a bleeding heart. It made Schuldich think of the dark look in his eyes yesterday and the way those shadows had stayed until they'd left the hotel room.

    Schuldich slowly relaxed against him, catching his mouth in a lazy kiss. Ken accepted it easily, lifting an arm to twine it around Schuldich's neck.

    "No protest?" Schuldich teased him as he tilted his head back. "My, I've made such good progress with you."

    Ken hesitated, considering that. His mouth was open to answer when Omi called to them from further down the hall. "Ken! Farfarello is waiting for us!"

    "Right," Ken called back, and Schuldich moved to let him straighten. They headed down the hall to where the others were waiting by the stairwell and the five moved to the first floor in a clump. Farfarello was nowhere in sight but Nanami didn't slow. Heels clacked against the ground as she headed for the front door and she pushed it open, stepping to one side to let the others precede her out.

    Ken came to a stop on the sidewalk as he took in the sight of the stretch limousine parked at the curb and Schuldich wondered if he noticed that he was the only one surprised by such a prestigious ride. Omi and Nagi didn't even slow on their way to the car. Schuldich thought it sloppy of them, but it wasn't his place to critique their mind fucks. The driver was waiting on them, dressed in a black suit as well, and he offered them a bow as he opened the door. Omi and Nagi ignored him entirely, leaning over enough to climb in.

    "This is more like it," Schuldich murmured, pressing a kiss to the side of Ken's mouth. "Let's go."

    "But that…" Ken trailed off, glancing at Schuldich's smirk, and screwed up his courage. He headed towards the door and climbed in and Schuldich followed. Nanami was the last in and the driver closed the door for them before starting towards his seat.

    The car was roomy even with their group; there were three rows of seats, one against the back and two along the sides. Farfarello had the back seat and was sitting with his legs crossed at the knees, arms to either side of him along the back of his chair. Nanami took her spot at his side, fitting up against him easily, and Ken went still as soon as he saw the other two guests in the car. Yohji and Asuka were already seated on one of the benches, with Asuka at the end closest to Farfarello. Schuldich saw Ken's jaw clench as he stared the woman down and she gazed back calmly, waiting to see if he had anything to say.

    "Sit down," Farfarello said.

    For a moment, Schuldich was sure Ken was going to argue, but at last the younger man turned away and headed to the far side of the other bench. Schuldich sat beside him and Omi took the German's other side, and Nagi helped himself to the chair by Yohji. Schuldich considered the trio for a long moment, blue eyes going from Asuka's face to Nagi's. Funny that they looked so similar… It was easy to see now that he had the chance to look at them. They had the same jaw line, same shape of the eyes, same nose…

    He thought of Nagi's words from the other day – "It's a bad habit. My sister always said so."

    Ken had never said anything about Nagi having a sister, not even when he'd told Schuldich tales of the time they'd spent together at the orphanage.

    Funny that the two looked so much alike and both happened to be working for Farfarello.

    Funny in the way that Schuldich at last thought he understood how the Irishman had discovered such a young boy in the first place and trusted him enough to put him near Ken as a watchdog.

    The car pulled away from the curb, sliding out into the midmorning traffic. No one said anything on the way there. Ken sat rigid beside Schuldich the entire way and was pointedly not looking at Asuka, and Schuldich kept his opinions and observations to himself. It was forty minutes later before the car pulled up to a curb and the driver came to let them out, and Farfarello led them up a black carpet on a sidewalk and into a massive building. Schuldich thought he saw stone gargoyles on the rooftop but he was positive he was seeing things; people didn't decorate with gargoyles in Japan. He wondered snidely if they even knew what such creatures were.

    There were stairs just inside the door leading down, and each successive set of doors they passed brought the sound of pulsing music to them. By the time they went through the third set and entered the club the basement had been carved into, the music was almost too loud to breathe.

    It was packed despite the hour. Bodies writhed on the dance floor and the stools at the bar were full. Lights flickered random colors over most of the bar, but a section in the back was highlighted by black lights alone. Farfarello headed in that direction and Schuldich saw the way the crowd gave way before him, not out of fear but respect, and someone in the back of the crowd screamed excited obscenities that had something to do with fat koalas. Schuldich decided he'd missed a vital part of whatever conversation that was a part of.

    Six stairs brought them up to the black light dais where black leather furniture waited. The leather was covered with glittered that shimmered under the light and Farfarello took his place on the couch that was the centerpiece. Nanami, instead of taking the middle cushion directly beside him, took the far cushion to leave the middle free. Nagi and Asuka took the chairs off to either side of the couch, and there were a row of short cushions in front of the chairs that were left for Ken, Schuldich, and Yohji to take.

    Omi took the spot that was open to him, the spot it seemed he'd been born to take: he was the last one up onto the dais and he moved unerringly towards the middle cushion of the couch. The second he sat the crowd exploded in an uproar. Bodies jumped up and down and screamed and Ken flinched back at Schuldich's side, teal eyes watching as the crowd went wild. Omi didn't react to the sudden chaos, staring straight ahead through half-lidded blue eyes, his face fixed in a smooth expression. At last Farfarello lifted one hand from the arm of the chair and the screaming stopped; he let his arm flop back down as three waitresses dressed in tiny black outfits came up onto the dais to take drink orders. The party continued on ahead of them as the pounding bass of heavy trance roared through the air.

    It only took an hour before their first guests showed up and Schuldich finally figured out that he was right in interpreting Farfarello's words. He felt his blood run cold at the sight of the men that were starting through the crowd towards him and he focused on his drink, pretending he couldn't see them. He knew them well enough as people he'd fucked with before, and while they'd never seen his face, that didn't mean he was happy being so close to them when Farfarello was so close to being done with their contract.

    "Schuldich?" Ken asked, noticing the German's sudden tension, and Schuldich just shook his head. The younger man was smart enough not to press it and the men stopped in front of the dais, taking in the three seated on the couch. One of the men took a step up onto the first stair and stopped, inclining his head towards them. A glance back showed that knives had come out into the hands of the four closest to Omi. It made Schuldich wonder if Yohji was armed, and if so, with what.

    Omi rose to his feet and took a step away from the couch, leaving his glass behind for Farfarello to hold onto. His movement signaled the okay for his visitor to continue upwards, though the knives never wavered. The two men stared each other down and at last a slow smile broke out on the guest's face.

    "So there is some truth to it," the man declared, barely audible over the music. He held his hand out and Omi reached out, pressing a small blade of his own into the waiting palm. The man turned it and pressed it against his hand, bowing at a perfect ninety degrees angle as he slashed his hand open. He reached out and pressed his hand flat against the ground, leaving a bloody smear behind, and straightened. Omi took the knife back from him and wiped it off on the man's shirt sleeve.

    "I'll take what you offer," Omi said. "It is mine to do with as I wish."

    The group bowed. Omi didn't.

    The fair-haired youth waited until they'd left before returning to his seat and Yohji's lips curved into a rueful little smile. "And now the real rush begins," he said. The words were lost in the music but Schuldich could read it on his lips, and he glanced towards Ken to see how the other was handling the situation.

    It wasn't Ken sitting off to his side, however, but that other-Ken. There was recognition in his teal eyes as he looked over his shoulder towards Omi, and the rest of his expression was smooth, leeched of emotion. At last he turned away, pointing his stare towards the crowd. His hands were in his lap and his fingers traced up and down his palm in the line the man had cut. Schuldich wondered if he should say anything to him before deciding it was safest not to. Besides, a conversation would be too hard in a place like this.

    Like Yohji had predicted, things turned busy really fast after that. Once the group had left and spread the news of who was seated in Farfarello's club, the string of visitors was almost endless for the next three hours. The drinks kept coming around and at lunch they were served a meal almost as good as the one Schuldich and Ken had shared the previous night.

    As things finally drew to a close, Schuldich took advantage of a lull in the visitors to seek out the restroom. He didn't have his watch on him, so he stopped before leaving to check the time on his phone. As he did he saw that he had a message and he propped himself against the wall to check it. It made him wonder when he'd gotten it, as there wasn't much of a signal down in Farfarello's club. He supposed it didn't matter, though, as long as he'd finally noticed that he had it.

    It took three tries to get the signal to let him send out to his message box and he was greeted with Crawford's voice.

    "Schuldich, where are you? We know who Hidaka Ken is. Get out of there, now. Pack your things and go and don't look back. The contract with Farfarello has been finalized; our final deposit was transferred this morning. Schuldich? Hit the door running."

    There was a click and the operator's voice came on, asking if he wanted to save or delete the message. Schuldich just lowered his phone, staring at it in surprise for several moments. It took a minute before he could react and he snapped the phone closed, stuffing it into his pocket. Crawford had sounded… anxious. Crawford never sounded anxious. It was a rule of life.

    ~Shit shit shit.~

    He bumped into Nagi on his way out of the bathroom and only an iron self-control kept him from jumping as the boy materialized in his path. "We're ready to go," Nagi informed him. "Come on."

    "Jeez, give a guy time to take a proper piss," Schuldich said. "What's the rush?"

    Nagi just gave him a cool look and turned away, and Schuldich had no choice but to follow him towards the front door. The dais was empty; everyone else was gone. Without the rest of the group there it somehow seemed like a death trap, and Schuldich told his imagination to quiet down. He shouldn't let Crawford get to him. He'd just… go back with them to the apartment, tell Ken he had more court problems, and then leave again. It was very simple.

    Of course, the simplicity of it all made him certain that something was going to go wrong, and he focused on keeping a calm outwards appearance. The ride back to the apartment was as quiet as the ride away, and Ken had only taken two steps away from Omi and Nagi before he turned back to face them.

    "I want you to stay with Farfarello for a while," Ken said, and Schuldich was glad to see he wasn't the only one surprised by such a random request. Nagi opened his mouth and Ken fixed him with a look that said he wasn't interested in arguing. "I want you both to just leave me alone. Got it? Just give me some time alone. I'm going to go upstairs and shower and relax for a while."

    Schuldich half-expected Omi to play the "hurt friend" routine just to get Ken to change his mind, but instead he inclined his head to the older boy. "Of course."

    Neither asked Farfarello if it was all right, and Farfarello said nothing about it. Schuldich thought about the positions on the couch that day, thought about how he'd been hired to knock Takatori Reiji from power. He thought about Omi's true identity- and once more it started to sink in that he'd had a reason to dislike this job from the start. He looked towards Ken, arching an eyebrow at him.

    "And me?" he asked. "Am I supposed to go take a walk? I'm not going to play civil with your rugrats while you take a breather."

    "No," Ken answered after some consideration. "No. You can come."

    Nagi's expression tightened, but Ken and Schuldich both ignored it. The brunette was the first to enter the apartments and they went up the stairs together. Schuldich trailed behind Ken down the hall to his room and Ken made it all the way to his door before he lost it. He had his key out, ready to unlock the door, when his hands started shaking too badly for him to hold onto it. It clattered to the floor and Ken slammed both fists into his door. Schuldich started at the sudden noise, eyeing the brunette as Ken sucked in a breath through clenched teeth.


    "This is… This isn't real," Ken murmured, almost too low to be heard. "This isn't real. We choose our own paths, right? You, you chose to be an escort for Choice Enterprises. And me… I had soccer. I had a different home. I have… I don't have anything left. It's all a lie."

    Schuldich said nothing and Ken whirled on him. "Did you see that?" he demanded, slashing the air with his hand. "Do you have any clue what was happening there?"

    "It was a party," Schuldich answered, "though it was a little on the weird side."

    Ken just looked at him, and Schuldich leaned over to pick the key back up. He unlocked it for Ken and motioned for the brunette to go first. Ken stepped past him, toeing out of his shoes, and Schuldich followed after him and locked the door. He kicked his shoes off to one side and wandered down the hall towards the bedroom, working through excuses for how to leave. Under the pretense of straightening his things he knelt beside the basket he'd brought and emptied it out, dragging closer everything he'd just set off to the side of it to worry about later.

    As he did so he stilled, staring down at the small pile of things he'd brought with him specifically for Ken. Somehow along the way he'd forgotten that this was a job for Crawford; he'd gotten so tied up into working for Farfarello that he'd forgotten the original purpose of his stay here. Blue eyes flicked up towards Ken, who was propped against the wall by the window. The boy's eyes were closed, his head lolled to one side, and Schuldich considered the way the silk and leather clung to his skin. The sight made his mouth go dry and he licked absently at his lips as he looked back down at his pile.

    He'd done what Farfarello had wanted. Now it was time to give something back to Crawford. After all, Ken had dinged Crawford's pretty little car, and no matter who Ken was, Schuldich was Crawford's partner. They'd been together for years. The American was juggling the issues of a dead wife and a newborn baby on top of a company to run and Farfarello to keep an eye on. He'd had this mess just as bad as Schuldich had, and Schuldich knew the other foreigner wouldn't forget to ask what Schuldich had done to Ken to make up for the car accident.

    It really didn't need much justification and Schuldich began putting things back in his basket slowly, leaving out everything he would need. When he was done he pushed himself to his feet and moved over to Ken, stopping close enough that they were touching. Ken's eyes opened at the contact and he tilted his head up to look at Schuldich, eyeing the smirk Schuldich had to offer him.

    "Don't think about it," Schuldich encouraged him. "I can help you forget about it for a while."

    "Forgetting never helped anyone," Ken pointed out.

    "No, but sex is still a lot better than thinking."

    Ken thought that over and seemed to find no fault with the logic, because he let Schuldich press him up against the wall and kiss him. The German wasted no time in finding the fastens for Ken's shirt and he pushed it over the other's shoulders to drop it to the ground. Hands and lips mapped a path out from shoulder to jaw and Schuldich did his best to suck the breath from Ken's lungs. Schuldich's shirt had a zipper down the back that Ken couldn't reach but Schuldich didn't move to give him better access. Instead he focused on the hot flesh in front of him, drowning in kisses as he slowly rocked against the other. Ken gave up on his shirt and instead dug his fingers into Schuldich's shoulders, moving against him as he kissed the German back.

    "Pants," Schuldich told him, offering him a last kiss before pulling away. Ken obediently set to work getting his pants off as the German dragged a blanket across the floor for their bed. A glance towards the door to the hallway told him that it should be close enough and he set it down. It wasn't the usual spot for the bed but it was what he needed and he knelt between the blanket and his basket before beckoning to Ken to join him.

    The brunette didn't need a second invite but moved to sit in front of him, pushing at Schuldich's unyielding clothes in mild annoyance as they set about fucking each other with their mouths. Schuldich remembered the first time he'd gotten Ken to kiss him in the department store just a few days ago, remembered the way Ken had seemed so mortified at the thought. It had been shy and hasty then and his face had been red as a beet. Now…?

    "Lie down," Schuldich told him, and helped guide him to his back on the blankets. "Look. Let's play with these." He dug something out of the pile and held it up where Ken could see it, watching the hesitation return to the other's face as he considered the loops. It was a thick rope of sorts made out of felt and leather, and Schuldich offered Ken a slow smile at the look on the other's face. "You liked the blindfold," he reminded Ken. "Let's just give it a try and see."

    At length Ken nodded and Schuldich had him move his arms over his head. It took a little bit of work to get the ropes tied around Ken's wrists and quite a bit more to get them planted in place. Usually he used a headboard, but seeing as how Ken's bed consisted of a blanket, that wasn't possible. Instead he slipped the ropes between the door and doorframe, looping them around the hinges and tying them as well as he could. "Try it?" he asked, and Ken obediently gave his arms a tug.

    "What's the point?" Ken wanted to know when the knots held.

    "It makes things more interesting," Schuldich promised, and he crawled back over to his side. "And this." He plucked up something else.

    "What… is that?" Ken asked, eyeing the odd device in Schuldich's hands.

    "This says that you can't come until I let you," was the easy answer, and Schuldich reached down and snapped it into place. He leaned up to kiss away Ken's frown, fingers sliding up the arms that were stretched over his head. Fingers tested the leather bindings around his wrists one last time and the knots brought a satisfied smirk to the German's face. He leaned down to kiss Ken again, exploring his mouth in lazy, heated brushes. His hands worked their way back down Ken's arms and slid down Ken's sides, fingernails raking along hard planes of flesh.

    Schuldich perched himself on Ken's thighs, tracing his rib cage before leaning down to take a nipple in his mouth. Fingernails and tips worked at the other one and Ken let out a low, appreciative moan as he arched slightly up into the pressure. Schuldich took his time toying with the flesh before moving his mouth to the hollow of Ken's throat, replacing lips with his fingers so he could kiss his way up Ken's neck. Their mouths met in a kiss that started soft and grew quickly hard, breaths ragged and mixing in the air. Ken's arms shifted but couldn't move far and Schuldich allowed himself a slow smirk before pushing himself up to his hands and knees and scooting down the length of the blankets.

    Two hands cupped Ken's ass and Schuldich leaned down, lapping at the tip of Ken's growing erection. It drew a strangled gasp from the other and the German drank the sound in, continuing to play. Lips pushed and sucked and he traced his tongue down the length of it. A hand joined in, working its way up and down as he continued to lick, and Ken's moans were mixed with throaty whimpers by the time Schuldich pulled away.

    "Schuldich-" Ken choked out. "Oh, god…"

    "Patience is a virtue," Schuldich reminded him, and he plucked up the rest of his ropes. Ken's eyes were closed as he struggled to breathe but they opened again as soon as Schuldich wrapped one of the ropes around his ankle.

    "What are you…?"

    "Shh," Schuldich soothed him. "Here. Bend it."

    It took Ken a moment to figure out what he wanted, but then he was lying on his back with his legs bent to put his feet near his hips. Schuldich knew it couldn't be comfortable but Ken said nothing about it, and Schuldich finished tying the ropes before bringing the ends up. They were looped around Ken's wrists before he took a step past him to tie them around a different hinge than Ken's arms were bound to. He pushed himself to his feet to admire his prize, head tilted to one side as he contemplated the brunette. The ropes effectively kept Ken from moving his arms and legs and he was a pretty picture to see, bound and waiting on the floor like that. Schuldich reached down, pressing a hand against the straining in his pants, before starting back towards the other.

    "Schuldich…" Ken murmured as the German knelt down beside him.

    "Let's play a game, Ken," Schuldich purred, and he caught the other's mouth in a kiss meant to rob the breath from his lungs. Fingers that had been patient and careful before were demanding now, raking across every patch of sensitive skin. His mouth worked at an erection that was straining for release even as his hand slipped between Ken's legs, finding the entrance he knew was there. Ken was struggling for every breath, muscles in his arms straining as he fought to lower his arms enough to touch the German that was so delightfully tormenting him, a jumbled chorus of encouragement and pleas spilling from his lips.

    It took just a little work to get his fingers inside and Schuldich twisted them, searching for the spot he knew had to be there. It earned him a ragged cry from the other and he continued to press at the spot, fingers and mouth moving together, his free hand clenched in the thin fibers of the carpet to keep himself from focusing on the painful tightness in his own pants. Ken was begging long before he was done, begging for more, begging for Schuldich to let him go, to take the ring away. Schuldich drank it all in and ignored every request but the one for more. He didn't stop until he was ready to stop and Ken was straining at all of his ropes by then, face flushed red, eyes dilated and half lidded, mouth open as he fought for every breath.

    And even though it had been almost too much, the sudden absence of Schuldich's hand had him pleading once more. Schuldich lifted his head from the other's lap then, earning a strangled curse, and crawled over him to kiss him. Long fingers tangled in short hair as he ravaged the other's mouth and Ken pushed up against him helplessly, rocking against his clothed form in a nearly mindless desperation.

    "Schuldich- oh god, Schuldich- I can't- I can't-" Ken struggled to get out between kisses, and Schuldich ignored him. "Schuldich, please, oh god, just let me- just let me-"

    "Shhh," Schuldich soothed him. "If you can keep quiet for just thirty seconds, I'll take it off. Deal?"

    Ken clamped his mouth shut so tightly Schuldich heard his teeth click, and his lips were bloodless. Schuldich laughed at the brave show and went back to work, nuzzling at his throat and chest, fingers teasing over-sensitive skin almost to the point of pain. Ken's face was red with the effort to not make any sounds and at some points he even stopped breathing when he was sure something would escape with his desperate breaths.

    Schuldich reached out, snagging the last thing he needed from his basket, and coated it with a lubricant before working at Ken's erection again. The sudden return of pressure had Ken choking in a sharp breath but he managed to cut off whatever sound he would have made, and Schuldich reached between his legs to press the piece of plastic in where his fingers had just been. Ken's eyes flew open wide in shock at the presence of something that was definitely not flesh, and he was too startled to be able to catch himself.


    "Ah ahh," Schuldich warned him between teasing licks and sucks. "No sounds, remember? What a pity."

    And with that, he flipped the switch.

    Ken's entire body arched off the floor as the vibrator set to work on its second highest setting, and Schuldich pushed himself up to his knees to watch the boy twist. Ken was too out of breath to make even the smallest of sounds; he could just writhe helplessly as every nerve in his body jangled in tune to the humming. There were tears on Ken's face that Schuldich doubted the boy knew were there and he moved his hands to his own lap, popping the button of his pants free and sliding the zipper down. The door was creaking where Ken was pulling at his restraints and finally Ken could breathe again, but they were frantic, high pitched gasps.

    Schuldich let out a ragged breath of his own as he pulled his erection free and began to work it, half-lidded blue eyes glowing as he watched Ken's little torment. His breathing was uneven and heavy as he pushed and pulled his own flesh and it took Ken just a little longer before he could manage sounds again.

    "Ahnn no no no Schuldich, oh gooood, Schuldich, please—" Ken forced his eyes open but Schuldich didn't know if he could focus on anything, too close the edge with no way to fall over it. Schuldich groaned low in his throat, speeding up his hands, and Ken seemed to choke at the sound. "Schuldich, please, oh god, please-"

    It didn't take long for Schuldich to hit release and he sat where he was for several moments afterwards before fixing his pants. He wiped his hand clean on an old shirt where it was sitting off to the side and reached out to Ken, finding the vibrator and giving it several hard pumps. The thrusts made Ken yell, a desperate, strangled sound, and Schuldich sped it up. Ken was trying to speak but nothing he said was making sense; it was an unintelligible string of sounds that Schuldich was sure were pleas. He kept his hand moving and returned his mouth to the weeping head of Ken's erection, offering it a hard suck. His tongue pressed against the slit hard and wiggled and Ken lifted his hips from the ground in his blind desperation to find the last thing he needed to gain release. Schuldich let him rock, sucking and licking hard flesh until his jaws hurt. Only then did he stop and he pushed the vibrator further in as he leaned up to give Ken a brutal kiss.

    He lowered his mouth to Ken's ear, offering the shell a little lick before speaking up. He needed to make sure Ken heard this over the thick sounds of his frantic breathing. "Crawford wanted me to tell you hello," Schuldich told him, "and to say that he's still pissed about his car."

    Teal eyes locked on Schuldich's face; a thousand different emotions skittered across the surface and fractured into colorful shards. Then they were hidden as Schuldich wrapped the blindfold into place and knotted it almost too tightly. The German pushed himself to his feet and headed over to his basket, repacking everything he'd taken out. The last item to go back in was a Polaroid camera and he snapped two shots of Ken. One was dropped to the ground beside the youth. "As a souvenir," he announced, and he tossed the camera and the other shot into the basket.


    "Goodbye, Ken. Best of luck to you and your thug buddies."

    "Schuldich— Schuldich—"

    Schuldich leaned over, reaching between the other's thrashing legs to turn the vibrator up. Ken nearly screamed and the sound echoed in Schuldich's ears as he straightened. He stared down at the youth for just a few moments more before turning away, and he draped his basket over one arm before walking out.

    He locked the door behind himself.

Part 13
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