Karma can be such a bitch. mild Crawford/Schuldig
He heard the front door open and close, heard nearly silent footsteps make their way down the hallway. Heard them stop in front of his door. Tensing, Nagi was about to put his powers to good use and lock it.
"Naaaagi!" The door slammed open.
Sighing, Nagi turned to look at his red-haired comrade. Who was already taking up residence on his bed. "What do you want, Schuldig?"
"Me? Nothing." The German smiled in a way that made most people look innocent but merely made him look even more mischievous. "And no, I'm not going to go bother Farfie. He threatened to castrate me this morning. And he wasn't kidding."
"Stay out of my head," Nagi muttered automatically. "And Crawford wouldn't let him castrate you. Then he'd have no use for you." The youngest member of Schwarz smirked and dodged the slipper that was thrown his way.
"You're a riot, kid. Really," Schuldig drawled, laying back with his hands behind his head. Nagi turned back to his work, figuring the older man would eventually get bored and leave if he was ignored. Granted, it was very hard for anyone to ignore Schuldig, for one reason or another, but Nagi liked to think that he had developed a knack for it over the years.
Then the humming began. And continued. Nagi wasn't sure whether to be amused or horrified that it was the Mario tune.
"Schu, stop it. I'm trying to work and you can't even hum on cue," Nagi snapped as he typed up a report. There was a hollow sound as the matching slipper hit the back of his head. The telekinetic sighed again.
Schuldig sat up, running a hand through his hair. "Oi, Nagi. Let me use your computer," he demanded and stood so he could peer over the Japanese boy's shoulder.
"Aww, afraid I'll find all those porn sites you have bookmarked? Don't worry, I won't tell Brad," the telepath drawled, smirking when he felt the telekinetic's powers practically crackle through the air between them.
"Fine. I need to eat lunch anyway. Will you leave me alone after?" Nagi asked in exasperation.
"Probably not." But Schuldig was already pushing him away from the computer and taking it over, fingers moving swiftly over the keyboard before he could be stopped.
"Arggh!" Nagi stomped out of the room, pushing past Crawford on the way. A minute later, the sound of the refrigerator being closed loudly echoed through the apartment.
"What's wrong with him?" Crawford asked, pausing to send a questioning look towards his lover.
Schuldig shrugged a shoulder. "Nagi has angst." He paused, watching a new webpage load. "Hey Brad, you wouldn't believe the porn the kid has on this thing."
Schuldig!/, Nagi shouted into his brain, tone promising painful torment by telekinesis in the near future. /Karma is going to kick your ass eventually, you deranged Nazi.
/Bitch bitch bitch/, Schuldig drawled back.
The alarm clock went off, chirping happily in an upbeat tune. Schuldig groaned from where his head was hidden beneath a pillow, one out-stretched arm waving about until the alarm clock hit the floor with a satisfying /thunk/.
But still, it chirped on dutifully.
"Fuck." The telepath rolled onto his back, staring blankly at the ceiling for a moment and wondering why, exactly, he was in his own bed for a change. Then he remembered accidentally spilling hot coffee over Crawford's new white Armani suit. Thus, no sex. Sometimes he thought their leader could be a bit harsh.
The alarm clock switched to radio-mode, now happily playing a Morning Musume song. Schuldig cringed and sat up so that he could glare at the clock-from-hell.
Which was blinking '5:00am' in bright digital numbers. On his day off.
He tried to go back to sleep, considering he had only gotten about three hours of it, but couldn't. Apparently everyone decided that today was the day to be even more loud and annoying than usual. And people wondered why Schuldig could be considered a sociopath on his better days. True, he could function without sleep if he had to. But it made him even more irritable. Even the guilty need their rest.
I'm gonna be late shitshitshitshit....
....my ass looks big in these....
...I wanted poptarts dammit...
...ugh, where's my Midol. These cramps are killin-
"Shut. Up." The telepath ground his teeth together as he strengthened his shields, stomping into the bathroom while making as much noise as possible. He was a vindictive bitch and if he was going to suffer, everyone else should too.
The warm spray of the shower felt good on his aching muscles, despite the weather being particularly humid. Turning the level up a bit, he sighed. The others could live with a cold shower, since that was what they would probably be getting. It would serve Crawford right for being a frigid bastard last night.
Schuldig half expected the water to suddenly turn cold on him, considering the way his morning was shaping out. But it didn't, thankfully. So when the telepath stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist, he was feeling slightly better. The steam started to clear a bit, silver-white mists drifting away to nothing. Inhaling deeply, as if it would somehow calm him, the redhead turned towards the mirror as he absently reached for his toothbrush.
Crawford had just been on the verge of consciousness when he heard a scream. Or a banshee wail. He wasn't sure which would be more suited to describe the noise but was sure Farfarello could supply an answer. Not even the currently drugged Irishman could have slept through that noise.
Nearly jumping out of bed, the otherwise empty bed he remembered with a hint of annoyance, the oracle headed for the source of the scream. The bathroom door was slightly ajar, wisps of stray steam escaping through the crack and adding heat to the already humid morning.
Opening the door, he paused. Blinked. And abruptly covered his mouth with his hand.
"That doesn't help Brad. I know you're smirking."
Crawford coughed to cover up his snicker. Rather unsuccessfully he noted. "Now Schu, it's not bad," he said soothingly to the distraught telepath.
His lover glared up at him, hands on hips and eyes flashing. "You suck at being reassuring, you bastard."
"Well," Brad started, snickering again. "I hear afros are back in fashion in America."
The oracle didn't even mind when he was pushed out of the bathroom and had the door slammed in his face. He was too busy laughing.
Two hours later, Schuldig emerged from his temporary state as a hermit, hair pulled back and partially hidden beneath a kerchief. The other members of Schwarz were sitting around the kitchen table with whatever breakfast Nagi had decided to make and the coffee that his beloved coffeemaker was set to make every morning.
He swore to whatever God might exist that if they so much as-
Nagi looked up. And snorted. "Schu...you look.... like a girl."
"With a bad perm," Farfarello supplied helpfully, licking his marmalade-covered knife. They both yelped when the telepath attacked them mentally.
"Now, now Schuldig. There's no need to attack them. You don't look that-" Crawford stopped mid-sentence at the look the German shot towards him.
"Say it and this butter knife will be so far up your ass you'll be permanently fucked."
The oracle's mouth snapped shut with an audible click. He was fairly sure that the telepath was dead serious. He coughed and took a gulp of his coffee as the disgruntled telepath reached for the coffeepot.
"You've got to be kidding me."
Nagi shifted in his seat, having realized that now was not the time to gloat about him being right. "Well, we didn't have much left and you took a long time..."
"Fuck you. And fuck Crawford. And fuck humidity. And fuck...fuck..."
"Me?" Farfarello offered.
Schuldig frowned. "No, I actually like you. Plus I've tortured you enough for today." Which was true. He had stuck some Brittany Spears song someone was thinking about into the psychopath's head when he attacked him. "That's it. I'm staying in my room until Karma dies. That bitch."
"No, you're not. It's your turn to do the grocery shopping."
"Crawford, if you ever want to fuck me again you'll take back those words."
Crawford handed him a wad of money. "Buy what you want," he said simply, a peace offering of sorts.
Schuldig hated grocery stores. All those screaming children and stressed out housewives, with miserable workers trudging about in a zombie-like trance. Only, zombies had style. Messy style, but style nonetheless.
The telepath grabbed a carriage, ignoring the angry look he got from the woman who was reaching for it first, and proceeded to journey through the maze of aisles. Leaning forward on the carriage handle, Schuldig glanced at the shopping list he was given with bored eyes. Eventually he made it through all the essentials supplies they needed, or what Schuldig thought of as essentials, which included coffee, lubricant, whipped cream and pretzels. He grabbed a bottle of frizz-control shampoo for good measure.
What else did he need?
Oreos, he decided with a determined nod. Hard to find in Japan, but not impossible. And he felt that he deserved them. Plus, Crawford said he could buy whatever. So he began his search through international foods.
There, towards the middle of the aisle, were an assortment of cookies and other sweets with sugar listed as twelve of their seventeen ingredients. Sweet and yummy but deadly. Which was what Schuldig normally described himself as.
A hand shot out and grabbed the last package of plain Oreos that Schuldig had been eyeing. The hand belonged to a brown-haired, brown-eyed girl, obviously foreign, that was smiling in triumph. "Mine!" she declared happily in English. She saw the look Schuldig shot at her and kicked him in the shin. Then merrily skipped down the aisle and into the swarming crowd.
Schuldig blinked, staring ahead in something quite like shock, hand reaching out towards where the Oreos had been. It wasn't fair. It was all one big, sick cosmic joke. It didn't help that he could hear a cop ticketing his car outside.
"FUCK YOU KARMA!" he shrieked.
That poor lady... someone thought in his direction.
He would not sob. He wouldn't.
When Crawford opened the apartment door, he was met with one completely defeated looking telepath. Schuldig never looked defeated, not even when faced with the worst of odds. Yet, here he was. Standing in his over-sized coat, hair now limp under the kerchief, pale hands clutching plastic bags. Blue eyes stared dully up at him.
"They thought I was a woman."
"We'll have to prove them wrong," Crawford said, pulling his telepath into the living room and into his arms. Comforting wasn't exactly his forte, but he could give it a try. Especially when Schuldig looked like he was about ready to throw himself in Farfarello's room and start praying to God for an end to it all.
"She took my Oreos..."
The oracle raised an eyebrow, confused but determined. "We'll...get them from somewhere else."
Schuldig looked up with a grin. "Braaad...can we destroy the world?"
"First thing tomorrow morning." Then Schuldig was kissing him, arms around his neck and backing him up into the bedroom.
Karma was a vindictive bitch. But Schuldig could be one too.