II

No light but the moon. A pale lantern on the dark sky. The night he first saw Aya, really saw him, - for the first time. Of course he *knew* him. They'd met countless times before, being archenemies and all - he'd even flirted with him, in his own vicious way. Tried to kill him and wished him dead too. But the graceful shadow took a real form that night. The face of carved marble, luscious lips and hooded eyes took shape and burned itself into his mind. The prey became a man. Not much more than any other man, but still a face with something more attached to it. That something being Schuldich's admiration... and not in a very noble way. The other redhead caught his fancy. Simple as that. He sat in the car, out stalking a target when Weiss showed up and suddenly, as he watched the lovely Aya from a distance he caught himself wishing that he would take his coat off, got curious about what was to be found underneath all the burgundy leather and silver clasps. He watched as the assassin slid through the shadows, katana unsheathed and held in both hands as he moved like a cat through the dark. So graceful, Schuldich had thought. So well built and firm, so much strength in those graceful limbs... So yes, it was desire...

That night marked the beginning of a dream, he lost himself in a naughty fantasy about sliding his arms around that narrow waist, feel his naked back against his chest. Firm buttocks grinding against... something hard and warm and eager... -He had wanted Aya, simple as that... Of course, he'd been aware that it was just a dream. Not even that, a fantasy... nothing more. A thought to play with when he lay in bed, safe behind heavy curtains, keeping the sun and the night out. When the murmurs and the voices couldn't reach him because of those secret little pills he took. Purple as Aya's eyes. A chemical bridge to peaceful bliss... When his own dreams, nobody else's, flooded his mind. Took control. Spun a web of images...then he would have Aya there. His teeth would catch and his tongue play with hard nipples, Aya's soft murmurs would sound in his ears and that lovely body would be pressed against his own. Every strong limb coiled around him, arms would slide down his back, legs would part and let him in... Soft sighs and purple eyes, shrouded and blurred with passion. Moist, full lips would scream his name over and over again...-Yes, it was safe to say he had wanted Aya.... But Schuldich had wanted many men, and some unfortunate women. It didn't mean he was developing a soft spot for the man. It just meant... that his body reacted to him. Nothing more. And if things had gone as they should, nothing would have come of it and another male would have taken his place in Schuldich's dreams. Aya was the enemy after all... Schwartz was still recovering from their last encounter, being forced to take on less than exciting jobs to build new relationships and trust, so the picture of Aya dead didn't grieve him. Not at all...although he wouldn't mind having some private quality time with the redhead before death occurred...

That night, outside the chosen target's house, he had watched as the Weiss member met up with Omi, the little blonde one, and silently walked off. Since the target was still alive the next day he'd assumed that they'd done something boring, like -stealing data or documents. He'd been a spider that man, a foot in every camp...until someone had put a knife in his eye and a bullet in his brain...- He never found out if Weiss had known that he was there that night, just ignoring him, or if they'd been oblivious to his presence. Knowing Aya however, the latter was hardly an option...

Still, the next time they met Weiss, he couldn't help but focusing his energy solely on Aya. Not as a part of a war this time but to feel the man's insides... just *feel* him, don't touch anything, just be there. It was an experiment, really. He knew that whatever he would find inside that gorgeous head, it would be nothing like his dream image of him. It would be completely different and maybe even tear the picture, the dream, apart... That was ok, for he didn't treasure his dreams. They just were... He was curious though, for the somber expression, the bitter lines that molded the Weiss leader's face into a cold mask had always held a certain fascination. It was rare, Schuldich hardly ever found anything interesting, least of all fascinating... So maybe what he saw in Aya was a challenge. A curious need to break that surface, pound inside.

They had been to a horserace of all things. Schuldich had been close to the judges' box with Crawford, silently manipulating them to overlook certain circumstances. A crappy job really, but you don't bite the hand that feeds you, even if he'd felt a certain urge to let the veils fall and reveal the truth, just for the fun of it. Crawford's presence however, held him in check. Why Weiss was there he didn't know. Didn't care. As soon as he realized their focus was on the audience, on a grey-clad male of no significance for Schwartz, he let them be. As did Crawford.

It had only been two of them at first. The dark one, the athlete -and blondie-boy again. - Of course, he should have known that Aya was right around the corner... To say that his concentration didn't falter, that he didn't lose himself in a wide grin when he realized that the somber knight had left his coat at home this time would be lie. He truly appreciated the sight of all he had longed to see. The muscles moving under the fabric of his blue jeans. The long, slender legs, broad shoulders over narrow hips...oh yes, the boy was a delightful sight indeed...

As soon as *their* race was over, and with it the job, he moved closer to have a better look. Crawford joined him, for completely different reasons of course. He had wanted to know what the boys were up to; Schuldich just wanted fuel for his imagination. That, and a little peek inside....

"Find out what they're doing here..." Crawford's low voice demanded and Schuldich obeyed the order eagerly. They'd move closer, but were still a couple of rows above Weiss, half-hidden in the shadows from a roof. He had focused on Aya, of course. The two others could just as well not have been there. Silently, he moved into the serious young man's head, looking around...

"It has to do with drugs," he murmured as Aya's thoughts, the feel of him, embraced his mind. Having him like this, it felt like having melted chocolate poured down his throat, his body covered in velvet. That mind... with its shards of broken glass, that icy landscape of pure control. Still with that... glow... to it. Depth... Deep water. Dark and surprisingly warm...

"Nothing you need to bother your pretty head with, " he said at last. Voice lazy, slightly arrogant. "He is nothing to us... It's that man over there," he nodded with his head. Then his focus moved back on Aya...Time for pleasure, he thought and delved in without a plan, - stupid move that...

Suddenly the purple-eyed yummy treat's head spun around in his direction. A piercing gaze met his for a brief second. A brief second that was enough. Enough for Aya's lips to curl into a smile, *that* smile that he had later learned to dread, and an image to hit his brain like a bullet, spread itself out in all its glory: Aya naked and on his knees sucking him off. His hands cupping his ass, caressing his buttocks while swallowing him down to the hilt. Tongue playing over strained flesh, eyes hidden under heavy lashes. Sounds of pleasure filling the air. His own fingers tangled in soft, red hair. Hair he didn't have the slightest idea of how would feel under his hands, but Aya knew, and Aya told him... Told him with the power of his mind, turned it all back on him. - Schuldich was stunned. And needless to say, completely caught off his guard.

If Crawford hadn't caught his sleeve, motioned for them to move on he would perhaps have just stood there for a while. Moping like a dork. Wide eyes and open mouth. The image had been so disturbingly vivid. He imagined he could smell Aya's scent in the air, feel the flutter of his eyelashes on the skin of his hip. Feel the hard insides of his palms on his ass... It made his heart race, yes, but not from excitement. Not that it wasn't a delightful image, but more than that it was disturbingly scary and told him clearly that he had indeed underestimated the man. It was not just that pretty body that was trained to perfection...The mental control of the other was stunning. Impressive. And doubtlessly a threat... Hadn't Aya smiled that little, unnerving smile before flashing off the image, Schuldich would perhaps have thought it to be a victory. Maybe even a dream come true. A prove, beyond doubt, that the attraction was mutual, that the Weiss leader was actually having deliciously dirty fantasies of his own. As it was, the act was doubtlessly deliberate. A mockery if anything, except for pure malice... Now, why hadn't Aya exercised this particular type of mental control before? Schuldich thought as he moved beyond Crawford on shaky legs, moved through the crowd, too occupied to pay them any attention, too heated inside to hear them clearly. If a hostile killer had stood behind a corner he wouldn't have known... His thoughts were solely focused on Aya, and what the hell to make of that little display of his. First of all, the serious warrior had never struck him as the kind of man who liked to play games, especially not of such... wicked... nature. Secondly; although he had always been focused, the ability to so quickly and effectively throw such a living image at him... And of a kind that made Schuldich catch himself wondering if there had been anything in his own behavior that had given his secret attraction away, even before he was aware of the desire himself... The thought was scary and colored with shame, - and anger.*He* was the mind reader, wasn't he? Not that sexy, purple-eyed brat. A certain tightness in his pants told him more clearly than anything exactly how successful the Weiss attack had been. He gritted his teeth in humiliation and agony as he followed Crawford to the car. How could he have let this happen? He had completely lost control, and that in his own game... It had to have to do with the return of his sister, Schuldich decided at last. Maybe he was finally starting to relax, let some of the pent up anger go... And when he didn't have to focus on revenge anymore...? -The thought was scary... There was no personal motives left to fuel the man, all that energy unleashed, and obviously mixed with a throughout wicked sense of humor... He did most definitely not like this new Aya.

Crawford of course hadn't noticed anything, but the again Schuldich was good at keeping secrets, especially his own. He was still thinking about Aya, the picture of those red, soft lips wrapped around him, the feel of that caressing tongue, when they arrived in front of what was currently the Schwartz building. The image was not a new one, but still so very different. Because it was conjured up in Aya's mind and not his own. Hadn't he known better he would have accused the Weiss leader of having planned it all, it had been so clear, so full of details...Maybe it was a coincident he thought, a coincident that he fired the shot at someone that had actually been suffering from nightly fantasies about the man. Or maybe it *had* been planned. Maybe he had thought it out as a defense against him, Schuldich, to put him off the next time he tried to get in to his mind. That sounded plausible. And the boy had been alert, ready to fire when he felt the other's presence enter. A presence he wouldn't have felt all if Schuldich had been a bit more careful... However, as things were, he chose to believe the latter. The possibility that Aya knew about his secret admiration of his ass was too embarrassing to bear. Strange thing that... he usually didn't care, desire could be such a powerful tool, be it his own or the victim's. But in this particular case he would prefer for it to remain just that, a secret. A thought to play with...

If nothing else the scene had given his nightly fantasies a new dimension... Taste and flavor. - And since they weren't fighting Weiss at the time, something Schuldich was extremely grateful for considering that an attack like that could be fatal, for him, in a fighting situation, - he decided to lock those disturbing suspicions away in a closed chamber of his mind. He had many of those. One more didn't matter.

His restlessness had increased, unbelievable but true, the following days. He felt slightly feverish and unable to sit still. Aya was a constant presence in his mind, a silent torture. The fantasy balanced on the brink of actual want, - and if it came to actual want, Schuldich knew he would be fucked, and not in the literary sense of the word. It was all Aya's fault though. Teasing him like that...what did he expect? Did he even know that Schuldich was gay? Was Aya at all gay? Or did he have a girlfriend somewhere? It seemed impossible that a lovely creature like Aya would spend his nights alone... Schuldich felt a sudden urge to find and destroy whatever it was that graced Aya's bed at night... Maybe it was Yohji, the tall guy with the honey blonde hair. The thought sent raging fires of jealousy through his body and he knew in that instant that this whole affair would eventually drive him insane... The voices... the murmurs, bothered him more than usual, sent him into fits of hysterical rage and the purple pills were consumed even at times when he was supposed to be strong and alert. He hated that one man could do this to him. Make him so weak, so out of control...made him want to shred Aya's mind apart in one second and puzzle it back together and nurture it in the next. Against his will he'd had to admit that it was a question of respect as well, mingled with the lust. Never before had someone so effectively put him off. Caught him by surprise like that. He had always counted Weiss, and their vengeful leader in particular, as one of their very few serious threats. A challenge more than anything. Easily beaten prey held no charm in Schuldich’s opinion... But Aya... Aya had always been merciless, cold, strong... Worth a fight. Worth a risk. To fight him a rush, a powerful kick inside. And now; another kind of rush when he pictured the beautiful assassin. It made him angry. And confused.... He was almost offended that Aya walked around out there and knew nothing of the hell he was going through, what he had unleashed. On the other hand he was grateful beyond imagination that he didn't, know, - how he felt.

Murderous images of Aya's dead body, ripped open and covered in blood when he felt angry. The same pale body pretty tied up and ready to be consumed by his hands when he felt good. And always... always... Aya's own scenario played on repeat over and over again. Never fading, still as vivid and clear as the first day. Not even the occasional fuck helped. He kept pretending that his bedmate had purple eyes and a hair so red it made his own look dull and lifeless.

His teammates proved no comfort, of course. Too wrapped up in their own torment and misery to really notice each other. But that was ok...Who needed comfort anyway? Besides, if they'd known about this incident cold mirth would have been the only response. Schuldich had let down his guard and paid for it. Just as it should be in their twisted sense of fairness. Schuldich wasn't twisted. Not really, he just had too many people in his head. Too many voices to sort out. But there was a core there...always at the breaking point, balancing a fine line - but still there. A something that was him, tasted like him...and it was this core Aya had infected with his purple presence. Consumed with a wicked glance... He was slipping out of control and he knew it. Why this man had such an overwhelming effect on him, however- he had no idea... and it didn't really matter. It was as it was and he was out of control when it came to him. Not even violence, the smell of crimson red and all the power it held could keep the images at bay, soothe his confusion, not this time. When he realized he didn't even trust himself to fight him properly, when he realized that fear had overshadowed the thrilling challenge it was to meet him in a battle, he made the only right decision: He would never see Aya again. He would avoid him at all costs. Not even think of him until the fever in his blood was gone... Of course, God had never been his friend and fate never merciful. Cruel as his destiny was, that was not going to happen...


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