FicWad

It itched/. It itched and pinched and stabbed and Aya had no idea why anyone would wear women's clothing, even /women/. Did they enjoy torturing themselves? Were women all secretly closet masochists? He scowled and tugged at the hem of his skirt irritably. They were all obviously exhibitionists as well and, now that he thought about it, he wondered why Yohji /didn't wear women's clothing. He certainly fit the apparent requirements.

Schuldig burst into laughter, stumbling a little in his sudden mirth. "Now that was just mean, kitten."

Aya growled under his breath and tugged harder. He couldn't bend over in this skirt; hell, he could hardly walk without worrying that the hem would flip up enough flash all the world and God besides. It didn't help that Schuldig kept trying to sneak a hand beneath it.

"Stop that, or I'll rip your hand off at the wrist."

Schuldig grinned and snapped the edge of Aya's lacy, cotton-candy pink panties unrepentantly, snatching his hand away before Aya could attempt to make good on his threat. Cotton candy to match the rest of it, down to his pink fucking heeled boots; the color clashed horribly with his hair.

Schuldig had dressed him up like a little girl's doll. Or one of those little girls that dressed like dolls. Goddamn it. Schuldig had dressed him up like that crazy Schrient girl! Aya growled even louder and more irritably. Schuldig would pay for this somehow.

"It doesn't clash" Schuldig murmured against his ear, and Aya shuddered at the rush of hot air over his skin "and I have not; you look nothing like Tot."

"That's not the point!" Aya grumbled, but felt a little placated nonetheless. Okay, so maybe he didn't look like the Schrient girl, but he still looked like an idiot and he couldn't believe he'd gone outside like this. And it still itched. And he wasn't fast enough to stop Schuldig from copping another feel, jumping a little at the sharp pinch to the curve of his ass cheek.

Aya stopped walking and stared at Schuldig. "Did you just pinch me?" he asked, wavering between incredulity and outrage.

Schuldig laughed and looped an arm around Aya's waist, pulling him off balance, before slipping the other hand right back underneath the skirt to gently rub the spot he had just pinched. "Should I apologize?" he asked, smirking and watching Aya through half-lidded eyes, and Aya felt all the blood in his brain rush to his cock. Schuldig hummed, sounding altogether too smug, and inserted a leg between Aya's.

And here was another problem with the skirt. Schuldig's leg pressed right up against Aya's cock, rubbing and... and /rubbing/. Aya bit his lip and fought the urge to rub right back. Without the restriction of his usual trousers, his cock pushed easily past the little pink panties to leak wetly onto the material covering Schuldig's thigh. Between the slight roughness of Schuldig's pants and the ruffled petticoats under his own skirt, Aya wasn't sure that he wouldn't come just like this.

A second hand reached under his skirt and Aya found himself being lifted to his toes and then pushed back down again, his arse cupped and given an occasional rough squeeze, and the angle meant that Aya's balls were being rubbed against Schuldig's leg right along with everything else. He moaned, a little desperately, and then, remembering just exactly how public the middle of the street was even at night, blushed hotly and pulled away and, oh... Aya tugged down the front hem and fervently swore he would kill Schuldig for this. His erection lifted the skirt up and away from his body and what little pretense at modesty he might have had before was certainly gone now.

He fixed Schuldig with the most deadly glare he could muster under the humiliating circumstances; the one that sent people scuttling away from him in fear for their lives. Schuldig just licked his lips. "No one will notice us, evil assassin's honor." He said, grinning and holding up his hand like some sort of deranged boy-scout. His expression darkened suddenly, and he added "but if you don't come back here and let me finish, I can change that just as quickly."

Aya's breath hitched, and not for the first time he wondered exactly what it was inside his head that was so fucked up and twisted that being threatened, even idly, by Schuldig made him harder still. He took the few steps back towards Schuldig, expecting to be grabbed and repositioned, but instead Schuldig spread his arms out, his smile edging towards dangerous. Aya exhaled shakily and carefully maneuvered himself, without Schuldig's help, into his previous awkward straddle.

"Good, kitten." Schuldig murmured approvingly. "Now keep going." Aya growled and pressed down onto Schuldig's thigh more firmly. By lifting himself on his toes and then letting himself back down he managed to establish an uneven, jerking rhythm in the off balance position, but God, he had been right. Like this, just like this, he was going to come, with Schuldig smiling a smile that was all bared teeth and sharp edges.

"You're a little slut, Fujimiya." Schuldig told him. "You'd do this even if everyone walking by could see us."

Aya panted, gritting his teeth, and refused to say anything. Schuldig would read it out of his head anyway, and the worst of it was that he would, /he would/. Schuldig fucked him and fucked him up, infuriated him and humiliated him, but even with everything there was a freedom in it that Aya could never obtain on his own. A freedom in letting go, in having someone force him to acknowledge, even if only to himself, that he wanted this. That he liked it. Schuldig laughed softly, and finally, finally, put his hands on Aya's body, steadying Aya's awkward thrusting and wedging his thigh cruelly into the join of their bodies.

"Come for me kitten, like this, on a busy street in a tiny pink skirt. You're such a pretty little girl, baby. You're such a slut. Come for me. Come for me, Aya."

Aya moaned loudly, losing himself in the heat and friction and the wash of Schuldig words through his head, in the coil of tension sitting low in his belly. The rub was starting to sting, the underside of his cock sure to be chafed, but he cried out desperately anyway when Schuldig shifted a hand to roughly push two dry fingers into his arse, knuckle deep, and Aya bucked at the sting and came and came, all over Schuldig's leg and the ruffles of his petticoats.

Schuldig smoothed his hands down Aya's shaking back and made wordless, soothing sounds, until Aya had recovered enough to slide from Schuldig's leg and straighten his skirt, a dark flush across his cheeks. He didn't look at Schuldig, head turned firmly away, but that was okay, it was just part of how Aya dealt with the aftermath of giving in to something he thought he shouldn't want. Schuldig slipped an arm around his waist, all but purring.

"I think I've shown you off enough for one day." he said, fingering one of Aya's brilliant red ear tails. "What say we go back and you let me fuck you properly?"

Aya hummed agreeably, and leaned into Schuldig, a little unsteady on his feet and wincing slightly. Schuldig would almost feel bad if he didn't know just exactly how much Aya had gotten off on the roughness of it, and when he caught a stray thought, and realized that Aya intended to keep the skirt /on/, he winced a little himself at the demanding press of his own cock against his pants.

He couldn't resist, he really couldn't. Schuldig reached under the skirt and with a sharp tug, ripped through the lace covering Aya's arse, ignoring the yowl of protest. "You'll keep the panties on too." He said, voice low and hungry, and Aya shivered against him, pressing a hand to the front of his skirt to keep it, and other things, down.