Chapter 7
When Schuldig steps off the elevator the blue porcelain vase is held in his hand like a trophy. He scans to see if Kudou is still there. His smile spreads when he is sure that he is not. The afternoon is shaping up quite nicely. He does not even have to pause to calm himself before he enters Aya's room.
There is a nurse in the room. She has the sheets pulled down and is methodically working Aya's left leg. Schuldig does not like to see this done, usually he would be annoyed at walking in on such a thing, but he is in too good a mood to be bothered by it.
"Guten Tag, die Krankenpflegerin," he says to her with a smile.
She smiles back at him and nods, having no idea what he has just said but trying to be polite.
"Good afternoon, nurse," Schuldig translates for her. He notices that the roses that he had left on the night stand are now placed in a pink plastic pitcher. He nods at the flowers, "Thank you."
"You're welcome," She returns brightly, glad that he has switched to a language that she can understand.
Schuldig walks to the bathroom and fills his vase with water before he returns to the night stand where he transfers the roses from the make shift vase to the real one. "Much better don't you think?"
The nurse nods, "It is very pretty."
//Leave now// Schuldig instructs her, //Come back later when I am gone//
Schuldig walks over to the stereo and picks up a cd. He does not really care what he plays at the moment. He just wants to talk with Aya while he is in such a good mood. By the time he has adjusted the volume and walked over to his chair the nurse has replaced Aya's leg under the covers and has collected her equipment and heading for the door. "I'll be back in a little while." She tells Schuldig from the doorway.
"Danke sehr,*" Schuldig says as he sits down, dismissing her with a wave of his right hand, his left hand greedily reaching for Aya's.
Schuldig finds himself on a beach, there is no carnage, there is no water that suspiciously resembles blood, there are no signs of death at all. Just white sand and the random sea shell. When events turn in your favor they really turn, he thinks to himself while trying to remember the last time that he entered into Aya's world and had not been assaulted with morbid images. He scans the seemingly endless expanse of beach until his eyes find what he is searching for half a kilometer down the beach.
Schuldig does not move towards his obsession right away. He lets himself drink in the view of scarlet red hair being lifted by the breeze revealing the fine boned face below it that is more often than not hidden behind thick bangs. It is strange that the self Aya projects does not have the darker dyed hair that his body has, not that Schuldig minds, he had planned, before he realized that Aya's hair was not growing, to cut off the dyed hair once the natural red had grown in a few inches. Schuldig stands admiring the way the sun reflects off of Aya's hair as though it were a jewel until Aya notices him.
Schuldig covers the ground between them in an instant and pulls Aya into his arms. Long pale fingers clasp behind his neck as he leans down to kiss Aya hello. His lips taste faintly of sea salt. The strength of Aya's mind to replicate the real world always amazes Schuldig and he finds the small detail arousing. He licks Aya's lips, an established signal for entrance and Aya obediently opens his mouth. He gently sucks on Schuldig's tongue when it invades the warm cavern. It has taken Schuldig months to get Aya so well trained and the sense of satisfaction he feels as Aya responds to his kisses reminds Schuldig of the chore he must perform to guarantee that Aya remains so compliant.
Breaking the kiss Schuldig moves his mouth down to Aya's jaw and gently begins to nibble on the fine bone, letting his teeth occasionally scrape against the sensitive skin between neck and chin. He lets his hands roam freely down Aya's sides to the small of his back where he uses one hand to hold Aya in place while he begins to lightly scratch up Aya's spine with the other. When Schuldig can feel Aya starting to press himself firmly against his body and his fingers tightening their hold on the back of Schuldig's head, the telepath begins to lightly skim through Aya's thoughts, beginning the tedious process of finding and removing the memories from the night before.
Schuldig has never taken Aya physically, all of the sex they have had has been inside of their minds. First in Aya's dreams where Schuldig had been brutal and rough enjoying the sensation of terrorizing the young man, then later, when Aya had gone into the coma Schuldig began to make the experience pleasurable for both of them, enjoying the intimacy that the carnal pleasure brought. But with the change in his desires Schuldig began to want Aya in the physical world more and more. The lack of reality that accompanied their trysts fueling the need to take Aya's body as well as his mind.
Schuldig had destroyed the moment when he had lost his temper with Aya and he was searching for the more elusive moment where he had revealed the depth of their psychic connection. When their shirts were suddenly gone without the solidity of having to undress Schuldig almost revealed his presence in Aya's memories as a wave of longing for the awkward moment of having to struggle out of clothing over whelmed him. With a snarl of both frustration and lust he lowers his mouth to one pale pink nipple and begins to kneed it roughly between his teeth, driving Aya to distraction so that he can delve deeper into the trembling mans thoughts.
By the time Schuldig has found and eradicated the moment of his potentially hazardous slip of the tongue he has reduced Aya to a blaze of desire, quivering in his arms. Schuldig presses his arousal against the smaller mans and grabbing on firmly to Aya's hips he lowers him to the sand. Their pants, like their shirts before have vanished and Schuldig is pressing his naked body against Aya's. He uses his thigh to separate Aya's legs, he presses a finger against the tight opening of Aya's anus. He doesn't need to prepare him for entry, he needs no lubrication in the fantasy realm but he likes the feeling of Aya squirming on his hand as he presses in first one finger and then a second. With pale blue eyes darkened by lust to the same color as the ocean nearby he watches Aya twist and moan below him.
"Fuck me," Aya pleads, his purple eyes a mirror to the lust in his voice, "please."
"Soon," Schuldig adds a third finger into Aya's passage, "but you have to do something for me." Schuldig has not relaxed his mental hold on Aya and is going to take advantage of it. "Will you do something for me?" Schuldig stops moving his hand and uses his body to keep Aya from pressing down on his fingers while he mentally stimulates Aya's sex drive. Aya moans at the sudden stop of friction, his breath coming in short raspy pants. He is trying to move himself on Schuldig's fingers a whimper of disappointment escapes his throat as Schuldig takes his fingers out leaving Aya feeling completely empty.
"Will you do something for me?" Schuldig's voice is completely calm, his body rigid, holding Aya in place but not touching his erection, giving him no physical stimulation while mentally he is coaxing the pleasure centers of Aya's brain. He knows the torment must be unbearable.
"Yes," Aya finally sputters, "what ever you want."
"Wake up for me," Schuldig lowers his mouth to Aya's ear while still denying him any other physical contact.
"I don't know how," Aya's voice reveals the pure honesty of his statement. The shame of admitting he can't do something extinguishing his desire so that Schuldig has to triple his mental manipulations to keep Aya aroused.
"I will help you," Schuldig reaches between Aya's legs and takes hold of his erection, he begins to rub the sensitive head with his thumb, scratching the skin with his nail occasionally, "It won't happen all at once, but I can help you. Will you wake up for me?" He squeezes his hand tightly around Aya's shaft and draws out a pained yelp that fades into a lustful moan as he relaxes his grip and begins to pump his hand up and down.
"Yes," Aya says trying to trust his trapped hips into Schuldig's hand.
"Do you promise?" Schuldig repeats the maneuver, grasping painfully and following it with pleasurable friction.
I promise, I promise" Aya's eyes meet Schuldig's, " Ich verspreche, Ich verspreche.**"
"Guter Junge," Schuldig says as he pushes his length into Aya in a single thrust, "sehr guter Junge***." It does not take Schuldig long to bring himself and Aya both to orgasm. His main agenda not being sexual gratification but rather extracting both unwanted information and then the promise from Aya, cumming being merely a bonus.
Schuldig smiles as he looks down on his still panting lover, never being one to pass up an easy opportunity he decides to breach another topic while Aya is not really capable of coherent thought.
"Why would Balinese be at the hospital?" He asks gently stroking Aya's cheek.
"What?" Aya seems truly taken aback by the question.
"Why would one Kudou Youji, be at the same hospital that I have you tucked away in?"
"I don't know," Aya frowns, his body starting to stiffen below Schuldig's, "Don't hurt him."
"Now why would I do that, meine Liebling?" Schuldig asks innocently, "Is he a threat?"
"No," Aya pauses, trying to remember something, "he doesn't know anything."
"What does that mean?" Schuldig still feigns innocence while he recalls how empty Kudou's mind had been, "As far as I can tell he's never known much of anything, except how to be an annoying männliche Dirne."
"He doesn't remember anything, who he is, what he was, anything." There is a sadness in Aya's eyes that threatens to destroy Schuldig's good mood.
"How do you know that?" Schuldig rolls off of Aya and forces himself to look out at the calm water.
"Because I did it," Aya sits up and wraps his arms around his legs, "I took his memories from him."
"Really," Schuldig turns towards Aya, good mood reestablished, "I hope you are not offended if I seem a little skeptical der Schatz, but even I would have difficulty performing such a task."
"It was a drug," Aya shrugs, the sand beneath his feet suddenly fascinating, "he wanted to forget everything so I gave him the drug that would let him."
"And why did you do that?" Schuldig notices that the water is starting to swell and the blue skies are beginning to darken as a storm approaches.
"I don't know," Aya tightens his grip around himself, "I wanted him to be happy. I didn't really think about it I just gave it to him after I pulled him out of the collapsed building."
"He never loved you Aya," Schuldig pushes, he has spent so much time implanting this idea into Aya's mind that he does not have to worry about Aya becoming aware of him, "he used you, it was never anything more than that." Schuldig pulls Aya into his arms, acutely aware of the tempest rolling in from the sea, "not like me, Ich liebe dich, ich habe liebte Sie immer."
"I know," Aya strokes Schuldig's cheek, "I just wanted him to be happy. Please just leave him alone."
"I will," Schuldig speaks honestly, "as long as he leaves us alone." Schuldig kisses Aya first on his chin then on his lips. He is satisfied enough to change the subject. "Now it is me you want to make happy, Ja?"
"Mmm" Aya presses his cheek into the hollow between Schuldig's shoulder and neck.
"Then we will start to wake you up tomorrow," Schuldig presses his chin down onto the crown of Aya's head while letting his hands stroke soothing circles over Aya's thighs, his eyes never leaving the water as he watches the storm subside, "I am too tired to start today."
***********"Yes! Yes! Oh gods baby, Yes!" Makoto opens his eyes, wide awake, his dream fading like smoke, his body shaking, still in the last throes of pleasure. He is not sure if it was the orgasm or Asuka kicking him in the shin that pulled him from sleep so suddenly.
He is laying on his stomach. He turns his head to look at his wife but does not try to lift himself up, like a thirteen year old boy he has had another wet dream. He can feel the sticky mess that he had made in his pajama bottoms and doesn't want Asuka to have to see it. She is sitting up hugging a pillow to her chest, she must have turned the light on when he first woke her up. He cannot make out the expression on her face due to the back lighting, but he can guess that she is not pleased.
It is the third time he has done this in the last week. Well, forth actually, but he must have been quite about it the last time because when he had found himself awake, his pajama's sticking to his groin, Asuka had been sleeping peacefully next to him. If she had noticed the next morning that sometime during the night he had changed from green pajamas to blue, she kept it to herself. Makoto shifts his hips to try and release his still half hard penis from the uncomfortable angle that it is trapped in between his body and the mattress. Asuka watched him squirm and he can feel his face start to blush, although it makes no difference on his already flushed face. He is aware that he covered in a thick coat of sweat and he rubs his forehead to keep the dripping beads from falling into his eyes. Asuka watched him do this as well.
He knows that she is waiting for him to say something but he doesn't know what he should say. 'Sorry I just had mind blowing sex with the mattress but I was asleep so you really can't hold it against me, how about a hug?' Somehow doesn't seem like it will cut it. He wants a cigarette.
"What?" He inwardly winces as he speaks but it is all that he can think of to break the silence.
"What!" Asuka barks back at him, still clutching her pillow. "Don't you think I should be the one asking 'what'? Like what the hell is wrong with you?"
Makoto grits his teeth and rolls over deciding there is no real reason to try and cover up since he is pretty sure Asuka is fully aware of what he has just done. "I had a dream," He tries to smile apologetically, "I can't help having dreams."
"No, not just this," Asuka waves a hand at him disgusted, "this I could almost understand, almost. But you are suddenly smoking like a chimney, you are calling out other women's names while you are sleeping, or if you are not dreaming of sex you are tossing and turning from nightmares. The increase in your drinking. Did you think I wouldn't notice that there are now three bottles of hard liquor in the house? Is it because I want to have a baby? Are you having an affair?"
"No," Makoto sits up, "I am not having an affair."
"Then what is wrong with you?" Asuka says on the verge of tears.
"I don't know," Makoto is suddenly very angry. "What I do know is I am not doing this right now." He pulls himself out of bed and heads for the bathroom before he says something that he will regret. He turns on the water in the shower and kicks off his soiled pants. He hears Asuka slam the door as she leaves the bedroom.
He sits down on the toilet, letting the bathroom fill with steam and runs a hand through his sweat soaked hair. It was a week ago that he had made what he has come to call 'the baby bungle' and in the morning it will be a week since he went to the hospital to apologize and then tomorrow night it will be a week since he had the first dream.
He doesn't really remember what he has been dreaming about, not the sex dreams or the nightmares, but he knows that both have something to do with the day he had gone to the hospital. He remembers pieces of the nightmares. He is in an ally, there is a gun shot. he is sneaking through what he assumes is a sewer, he can hear the splashing of feet close by him, he knows that they are made by someone he trusts, far behind he can hear more feet splashing, following them, and if their pursuers were to catch up with them they are dead. But they are disjointed, there is no real sense to them. And the other dreams are even more scattered, a flash of skin, the sensation of hands on his body, sometimes they are soft and light and he knows that they belong to a woman, but sometimes they are much stronger and calloused and he is starting to think that those hands belong to a man, and it is the man's hands that he remembers after waking up from the wet dreams.
And Asuka wants to know why he is drinking. 'Well you know how I keep thinking that there is something missing? That maybe there is something important that I left behind? Yeah well I think I found out what it is, your gonna get a real chuckle out of this one, it wasn't a wife or kids at all, it was my sexual orientation. I forgot that I was gay. Isn't that a hoot?' But he wasn't gay or at least he didn't think he was, or not completely gay, he enjoyed sex with his wife, he enjoyed it very much, so maybe he was bi, still how does one explain that to their wife? Damn, he needed a cigarette.
He stands up and gets in the shower, only staying in long enough to rinse himself off. When he gets out he haphazardly dries himself off before dropping the wet towel as well as his dirty pajama's into the hamper. Naked he walks into the bed room where he pulls on a pair of brown pants and a pull over sweater. He knows that he is not going to sleep any more tonight and if Asuka doesn't want to relinquish the living room to him he will just go out somewhere.
When he leaves the bathroom Asuka is sitting in the dark at the small kitchen table. The only light coming from the city beyond the balcony and the neon of the clock stove. She has the bottle of whiskey that he had brought home the night before, although he hadn't opened it, thank you very much, and a glass with about two inches of the brown liquid in it. Usually seeing her in such a state would make him forget that he was upset and make him want to rush to her side to comfort her and he is alarmed when his anger doesn't just evaporate, that he has to force himself to walk over to her.
He gets a glass out of the kitchen strainer then sits down beside her. He pours himself a generous shot and tosses it back like a pro before he speaks, "Look I am sorry I snapped at you."
"I am sorry too," Asuka doesn't look up at him and he wonders if she is sorry that she snapped at him or if she is also sorry that he snapped at her. He pours himself another shot, smaller than his first, and drinks it in one gulp knowing the way he is thinking isn't going to get them anywhere but into a fight.
"I am going out on the patio," He announces and stands up.
"I have the weekend off," Asuka says still without looking at him, "I am going to go stay with my sister, I will go to work from there Monday morning, when I get home Monday night we can talk."
Makoto ignores the ominous overtones in Asuka's voice and nods, "That sounds like a good idea," he says standing up and walking to the couch. He grabs his jacket and opens the balcony door, his hand already pulling out the pack of cigarettes and the Zippo he bought earlier in the week. Behind him he hears his wife cough from drinking her whiskey, a moment later he hears the bedroom door close. When he is sure she is not coming back out he walks back into the apartment, cigarette in his mouth, and grabs the whiskey bottle before returning to the balcony.
He looks out at the lights of Tokyo and smokes. He takes a long pull from the bottle and thinks that maybe whiskey and cigarettes might taste as good as beer and cigarettes. He is glad that he is going to have the weekend to himself. He has a lot of thinking to do, he takes another drink, but not tonight. Tomorrow is soon enough for thinking.