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Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Back....pause....forth....pause.....the sound of someone shifting.

This was the ritual that Kirito sat and watched everyday when his Uncle Schuldig would cheerfully wander into his room and grab one of the DVDs he always bought him for his birthday. Kirito didn't mind, really, since he enjoyed watching them just as much as his uncle did.

He just wished the older man wouldn't drool quite so much.

"Uncle Schuldig...."

The German waved a hand absentmindedly. "Not now kid. I'm admiring his musical talent."

"But you've been admiring this song for thirty minutes," Kirito whined.

"It's a good song," Schuldig snapped. That was the good thing about his kid. Brett never whined. He tended direct evil glares and send violent mental images, true, but these things the German could handle with ease. And Brett certainly wouldn't whine about watching Gackt thrust his hips about in tight snakeskin pants.

Young people these days.

A heavy sigh made Schuldig roll his eyes. "Fine. I'll skip to the next song. Happy?" /You foolish foolish child/, he added to himself mentally. "You're lucky you're my favorite nephew."

"But-"

"Ja, ja. You're my only nephew. Gott, don't people ever get tired of saying that?"

Kirito's mouth snapped closed. He hated it when telepaths did that. "Fine. Then I have to do homework..." he started, but noticed that the redhead had already gone back into his trance-like state of Gacktdom.

A Gacktgasm would follow soon after.

Later, when Schuldig had vanished from the house and the rest of Schwarz (which now expanded to cover their children as well for insurance reasons) had gathered for dinner, Kirito cleared his throat. Five sets of eyes turned to look at him.

"I think...Uncle Schuldig has a problem."

Brett snorted. "For a nerd, you're kinda slow aren't ya?" he commented before wincing at the telekinetic smack this earned him. He glared at a satisfied looking Nagi.

Crawford adjusted his glasses. "Ignoring the obvious implications my son has pointed out, I have to agree. This...obsession...with this 'Gackt' person is starting to get out of hand. I caught him making Weiss hop around on one foot singing "Nyah nyah nyah nyah" in high-pitched voices the other day."

Everyone took a minute to adjust to the fact that they had just heard Crawford say "nyah nyah nyah nyah" before the conversation continued.

"I saw Uncle Schuldig looking as if he was having a seizure. But he said he was just dancing," Cailin said, looking thoughtful.

"I saw him wearing a schoolgirl outfit!" Kirito added enthusiastically. No one had the heart to tell him that that was normal for Schuldig.

Nagi set down another plate of vegetables before tapping his chin in thought. "I suppose we could just get rid of the videos..."

He blinked in surprise when all three children let out a shout of "No!"

Farfarello added Gackt to his list of men to kill before his daughter turned eighteen.

Just then the kitchen door flung open and a very happy looking Schuldig sauntered up to the table. He looked ridiculously pleased with himself, which was never a good sign in Crawford's opinion. Schuldig leaned a hip against the oracle's chair and smirked.

Then frowned when everyone continued to eat.

The telepath coughed.

"Pass the chicken," Nagi asked Brett, who did so.

Schuldig sent out the telepathic equivalent of someone stomping their foot and grinned at the simultaneous groans of pain. Oddly enough, Crawford was the only one to calmly continue his meal.

"How do you do that?" Brett asked his father, one hand clutching at his head.

"I've built up an immunity over the years." Crawford set down his chopsticks and looked up at his lover. "Yes?"

"I," Schuldig started, "have great news."

"You're moving out?"

"You're buying me a car?!"

"You're finally getting that sex-change operation?"

Cailin had the decency to look sheepish when everyone gave her an odd look.

"No." The redhead polished his nails on the lapels of his leather coat and examined them. "I got tickets to Gackt's concert at Tokyo Dome." Like a magician, he produced three tickets out of thin air. "Come on, admit. I'm a god." He spun around and was out the door again, not waiting for a response. He didn't need one. He /knew/.

The others sat staring at each other in silence.

"Now what?" Brett asked.

"Now...we wait."

"What?"

"Nothing." Crawford adjusted his glasses again. "We let him go. He needs to get it out of his system."

"He'll get something out alright," Brett muttered.

"Magnum," Kirito commented. Then blushed and slunk under the table.

*

An hour before the concert and teenage girls were already lined up in scores outside of the arena, dressed up in lace and knee-high boots and pleather. They chattered excitedly and giggled and spent all their hard-earned money on merchandise. Brett felt like he was in the minority and it had nothing to do with his red hair.

"I'm choking from the sheer level of estrogen in this place," he muttered as he walked next to Schuldig and Kirito.

"Put a stronger shield up," his father told him absently. He was too busy deciding whether or not to bid on the life-size Gackt figure that was up for auction.

"Somehow, I doubt that would help."

"Uh-huh. That's nice. Ooooh, pillows."

Kirito looked around curiously. It was his first concert and the only reason his father let him go was because Uncle Brad and ordered a responsible person to go along with the two redheads. "Why is everything so expensive?"

Brett rolled his eyes. "Because suckers will still buy it, my dear cousin."

"AH! Essence of Gackt! In a bottle!"

*

Kirito noted that during the concert, Schuldig's adoring smile had slowly changed into a predatory grin. This worried the Japanese youth. He had turned to Brett for help, but his cousin had seemed to be in a daydream of sorts, watching the stage with a dazed look in his eyes.

He almost wished his otousan had made him stay home and play video games. No teenager deserved this much responsibility.

When the concert ended, he made a quick grab for his cousin. Brett stopped mid-step, realized he had been heading for the stage, and shook his head. The girls that had surrounded them during the past two hours were filing past in a buzz of day-dreams and puppy love. "Damn," he said with feeling. "Hey, where'd my dad go?"

Kirito curled into a ball and sobbed.

*

"I'm with the band," Schuldig told the security guards. They looked dubious for a second before simply stepping aside. Sometimes it was good to be a telepath. Wandering the backstage of the arena, the redhead thought of his plan.

First, find where the bandmembers were.

Second, find Gackt.

Third, complain about the lack of fanservice via Vanilla.

Fourth, demand a private viewing of Vanilla in compensation.

Now a man with a plan and a purpose, Schuldig plowed his way through the tech and crew members, pushed his way through groupies and the security that was busy getting rid of them, sidled past the bandmembers when he finally reached them, and creeped into Gackt's dressing room with barely suppressed glee.

"Oh My Gackt," Schuldig stated.

Gackt looked up from where he was sitting serenely upon a velvet chair, reading poetry and surrounded by vases of roses. He hastily put away the fluffy pink pen he had been writing with. "What?"

Schuldig nearly fell to his knees by the power of that word alone.

Gackt stood in one movement, his lithe body moving with liquid grace. "Who the hell are you?!"

"Your worst nightmare," Schuldig responded automatically then winced. "Or your love slave. It really all depends on you."

"Excuse me?" the musician asked, his deep voice taking on a hard edge. Schuldig shuddered. Gackt assumed a defensive stance, despite the leather pants he was currently wearing. "I suggest you leave. I am a master of...well, everything."

Schuldig's eyes were bright. "Can I see your magnum?" he blurted out.

Gackt faltered. "Wha-"

"Please, just take me! I can't stand it anymore," Schuldig shouted and threw himself to the floor in front of this pale Adonis. "You're in my blood, you're in my mind. That damn hip-thrust and sway, they're imprinted over my vision." For a moment, the telepath wondered what the hell he was doing, on his knees in front of some rock star, practically begging to be taken. It was outrageous. It went about every fiber of his being. Why was he doing this?

There was a hand in wound tightly into his hair and a deep voice telling him exactly what was going to happen to him and Schuldig thought "Ah yes, that's why" before he was being pushed onto his back and had one-hundred and ten pounds of lustful perfection straddling him.

"Oh god."

"Gackt-sama will suffice."

"Say it once. Just once," Schuldig demanded.

Gackt sighed but leaned forward, so that his lips brushed against the redhead's sharp cheekbone. "Kimi wa....boku no.....Vanilla..."

*

Outside Gackt's dressing room, the band looked up, startled, at a loud cry of "GACKT-SAMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

Chacha looked at the ceiling in bemusement. "At least he isn't making them say "His Supreme Lord and Master of Perfection" anymore."

You played with the strings of his violin. "That's because it takes to long to say while your in the throes of a Gacktgasm."

He shifted slightly when everyone looked at him.

*

Schuldig sat up, ignoring the cold floor against naked flesh. His hair was tousled and wild, his eyes satisfied and heated as he stared up through a fringe of red. "Well?"

Gackt was already jotting down notes for a new song, about fiery hair and a smile. Perhaps he would add something about a love so white it resembled polar bears. No, he had already used that. Ah, long legs that drew him in as he fell into his...no, her....eyes.

Schuldig stared at him incredulously. "You're sick."

"Hmm?" The artificially blue-eyed man looked back at him. "I am inspired and the muses are speaking."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. So. How was it?" Schuldig found himself asking. "Am I not a sex god of equal...proportion to yourself?"

"I suppose," Gackt said. "Although..."

"What?"

"Well, it's just that..."

"Ja?"

Gackt shrugged. "I'm better."

*

The band looked up again as another scream broke the air around them.

"Again?"

Something shattered inside the room.

You cupped a hand to his ear. "No, that was the other type of scream."

"Ah. Gaku-chan has to work on that perfectionist streak of his. Having to fix his dressing room after every concert is starting to add up."

The dressing room door slammed open and their leader ran past at full speed, followed by a blur of red and curses.

"Was that German?"

"Don't know. Wanna go get some food?"

"...sure."