A lifetime in order. Crawford/Schuldig sentence challenge.
A flash of orange was the first thing that caught his attention, amused blue eyes over fallen students, and Crawford strode towards them before he knew what he doing.
Schuldig's hands were cold when they wrapped around his neck but the oracle thought his gun must have been colder, metal and death pressed beneath a grinning mouth.
"We've got a lifetime," Schuldig purred, pulling the older boy towards an empty room, "so why don't we conquer the world some other day and play now?"
Hand twisted in sweat-damp fire, mouth scraping against mouth, Crawford wondered if they'd survive each other; just before heat tightened around him and the moment was gone.
"Contrary to popular belief, I'm not always right," he cautioned but Schuldig just laughed and followed him anyway.
The redhead teased him with a soft press off lips, licking away stray blood as the corpse fell to the ground behind them.
"Give me a reason not to turn on you," Schuldig growled into the pillow, so Brad fucked him-hard fast perfect just perfect-until they were both convinced.
"Nine hundred ninety-nine," Schuldig sing-songed as the Japanese boy died before turning towards Crawford with his gun raised and when the American awoke, he hoped it was a dream.
Schuldig never looked as royal as he did when on his knees.
Schuldig raised an eyebrow in question, Crawford nodded an answer, and the fact that they understood was more alarming than anything else.
"Well I can't see anything either," Schuldig mused, adjusting the glasses on his face, then kicked his lover when the black and white shape muttered about needing a gag next.
"Patience is a virtue, Braddles, but since when do we have any use for /those/?"
Sometimes Schuldig was suddenly someone else-a split moment before control set back in or far too long a stretch-but no matter how long, Crawford could always tell the difference.
"I wish you would follow orders as well on the field as you do in bed," Crawford muttered then smirked as chains rattled against the bed frame.
He tried to leave-twice-and both times something dragged him back snarling; Schuldig could never decide whether he was grateful or not.
"I still don't think that's really necessary," Crawford sighed, bemused, while Schuldig just shook his head and hugged his new car with more fervor.
Long fingers combed through his hair, putting just the right amount of pressure against his temples, and suddenly the vision was that much less painful.
There was, as Schwarz discovered over time, nothing quite as fear (or jealousy) inducing as a telepath that was feeling ignored.
"I'd wager you my soul," Schuldig drawled from behind his hand of cards, "but I gave that away ages ago."
There was, to his knowledge, only one photo of his family-the one he shaped and guided-in existence and Crawford was careful to keep it locked away in his safe.
"Your telepath is an imbecile," the Japanese man snarled, to the oracle's amusement, because Schuldig had tricked almost everyone into believing that.
There was a certain gleam, a brief twist of deep blue and a curl of wicked lips, that made Crawford want to reach for his gun; it was always gone by the time he did.
"They're my new playthings, these kittens, my new puppets to make dance," Schuldig said with what might have been glee, face eager and caution thrown aside with a carelessness Brad could have envied.
The only real problem-when you hit the core of it-was that Schuldig never thought about past or future, just that beautiful in between, and Crawford was the one that had to clean up the mess.
"It's show time, gentlemen," Crawford said, smirking at the sharp nods and sharper grins; they'd been waiting in the dark far too long and Schuldig would kill for a spotlight act.
See you in hell, Schuldig sent his way, just before the world fell apart.
Of all of them the telepath should have been the first to turn up, so of course that meant he was the hardest to find.
They were rich men now, accounts hacked and transferred with Nagi's help, but the one thing that Crawford wanted-what was really his-insisted on eluding his grasp; and that just made it worth all the more.
"Farfarello found him and is bringing him back now," Nagi told him with a wry look, not commenting when their leader locked a worn photograph away.
He looked the same, because Schuldig couldn't really change anymore than he did on a daily basis, but there was a scar around his neck-slim collar from someone else-that the oracle wanted to burn away.
"I was going to write a novel about us while I was off hiding, some dark action, drama, and dare I say romance story, but Farfarello threatened to break my hands if I tried."
"It works out to be fair in the end," the black-haired man drawled as he cleaned off his borrowed knife, "since you cut his throat first."
They stopped wondering if they'd ever be caught when the notion changed from improbable to impossible.
"/Fighting evil by moonlight...winning love by daylight...never running from a real fight...she is the one named/-oh, I knew you'd change your mind about that raise eventually, Braddles."
Schuldig thought he might have dived in front of bullet if he had only seen it coming.
Nagi had never seen Schuldig so still as when the older man was sitting by Crawford's bedside.
Even if it took forever for their strength to return, it was still just a matter of insignificant time.
The day his green coat shrank to near nothingness by cold water and thoughtless cruelty was the day a new Schuldig was born.
"You're bleeding," was breathed into his ear right before he gave his leader a copper-stained kiss.
"We'll probably be remembered as the scum of the earth, but I've found that everything starts from the bottom up."
It was somewhat ironic that Crawford controlled by knowing the mind, while Schuldig fought back through spontaneity and solid patterns, but it balanced the scales and they could live with that.
After the German tapped his shoulder for the umpteenth time, he started to think up some rather fitting...punishments.
Whenever Farfarello spoke of God, Schuldig found his eyes searching for pristine white and polished glass.
Hands pressed against dirty concrete, cheek scraping across a rough surface, Crawford bit back a moan when Schuldig thrust into him again and again.
The oracle looked more exposed without glasses than when lacking clothes, which made Schuldig try to hide those gold frames as often as he could.
"All these years, all we've been through, and you still won't let me take your car," Schuldig scoffed and kicked a tire for good measure.
"This canno' end well for us," Farfarello muttered as the eldest teammates engaged in another round of fight and make-up.
They were all a bit disturbed when Schuldig came home with a gold ring on his finger, even if he did say it was a harbinger of doom.
Crawford started to smirk when he saw that look in Schuldig's eyes and that glint of teeth ready to bite; he was thus thoroughly confused when the telepath went straight for the refrigerator.
"Our luck is gonna last us a long time," the redhead said with so much conviction Crawford had to agree.