FicWad

It was kind of a given that he would be the first among them to date. Like some sort of written prophecy, probably jotted down by one of his fathers on a sheet of Bounty paper towels. He was, after all, a flashy bastard- especially compared to his cousins. Cailin wouldn't date until her friends pushed her to and Kirito would likely run and hide at the mere idea of it.

Or use the excuse that he didn't have any dress socks for the occasion.

And Brett was the one with the wide smirk and that 'I know what you want' gleam in his eyes. It had a tendency to draw people in, whether they wanted to be or not. It was part of his personality, an instinctive need to get under someone's skin without making it seem that way- he didn't think about, didn't even realize he was doing it most of the time.

It was his nature.

He realized a long time ago why his parents were so good at their job.

There was also the little fact that Brett was, and he quoted, "hot". Not that he was vain or anything...

"Brett, phone call. Stop making faces at yourself in the mirror," Kirito said, arms folded as he leaned on the bathroom's doorframe. He looked bored, exasperated, and mildly amused.

"I wasn't making faces at myself. I haven't done that in /years/," the redhead sniffed and turned to look at his cousin. "Besides. This smirk doesn't come naturally, despite popular opinion."

"Right."

"I really haven't practiced in years."

"Ahuh. Sure. I know you sneak off to practice your smirk at night."

"Oooh, Kiri-chan. Watching me in the night, huh?" Brett leered. Kirito threw a shampoo bottle at him without having to move a muscle. He hated that sometimes.

Kirito rolled his eyes. "Phone?" he reminded and walked off.

Stalking out of the bathroom, Brett continued to stalk his way into the living room and grabbed the phone off of the coffee table. "Yo."

Nagi and Cailin watched this, glanced at each other, then resumed Brett Watching. The cable was on the fritz lately, after all.

Brett flopped backwards onto the couch, ear tucked between his ear and shoulder. "Ahuh. Heh...no. Well, I guess. No. No. Yeah. Oh?" Brett smirked as he examined his nails.

Nagi raised his eyebrows. Cailin looked around for her new coral pink nail polish.

"Well, I wouldn't say that. Worth a chance though, right?" The redhead's voice took on a purring tone. "I'd say tomorrow, at eight.....great. Bye then." Ending the call, Brett leaned back and tossed the phone beside him.

"What was that about?" Nagi asked, already regretting it from past experience.

"Hmm?" Cool, coffee-gold eyes slid their attention onto him.

"The call. Anything important?"

"Well," Brett drawled. "One of your normal clients decided he was tired of paying a bunch of...ahem....old men to get the job done. Lucky for him there's me, huh?" He stretched and offered a hand to Cailin, who grinned and started painting. "Yeah, I guess your time is done, Uncle. Sorry about that."

Cue withering stare. "You're a terrible liar, you know." /Unless it's important/, he added mentally.

"Got me there. Okay....so I have a date," Brett admitted.

Cailin squealed. "Brett-chan has a date! Do I know her? Is he in our class? Where are you going? Can I go with Uncle Schu when he tries to follow you?"

Brett glanced down. "No, you can't." He squinted. "Is that coral?"

"Coral /pink/," she corrected.

Brett wasn't sure which was worse.

Nagi stood up. "Good luck on your date. And with your fathers. There will probably be advice," he said as he headed up to his room.

Advice from Crawford and Schuldig.

He decided they both won over the coral pink.

*

They both knew before he told them. Of course. Brett was long accustomed to listening to his annoyed classmates complain about parents prying and knowing what they were doing.

Brett thought they had no right to complain until they spent a month with his parents.

'My mom knew I was lying. How the hell does she do that? I swear she can read my mind.' Sometimes it was 'My dad wouldn't let me go. He said I would drink. Can you believe that? I mean, I did drink but he could have some faith. It's like he knew what I was going to do.'

Common sense was not catching on with his generation, apparently.

'It isn't fair. I have no privacy.'

Cry him a river.

'They went through my room!'

Well, Schuldig and Crawford didn't go through his room. But he supposed his mind and future made up for that. And normally he didn't care. It could be almost convenient, not having to say or explain.

But then...

Before he was fully in the room, his Schuldig was on him.

"Awww, my little Brett-chan has a date. He's growing up so fast, isn't he, Braddles?" the older telepath crooned and snickered.

Seated behind his document-covered desk, Crawford sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Leave him alone, Schu, or I'll make you do the taxes."

His father to the rescue, Brett crowed to himself.

Schuldig snorted. "That's the worst threat you've ever made, Crawford. You would never let me do the taxes. And our baby is growing up, here. I can bother him if I want."

A valid point, Brett was forced to admit.

"So," Schuldig drawled and peered at his son with glee. "So what is it? Girl? Boy? Goat? You can tell me. I won't judge." He paused. "And neither will Crawford."

"I wouldn't have the right to condemn someone else's taste," the oracle muttered.

Schuldig sneered.

"Yeah. Well, I just came up to tell you guys that I'd be out later." Brett started backing up towards the still open door. "But since you already know..."

"Stop," Crawford ordered.

Brett froze.

"Alright, brat, here's the thing." Schuldig tossed an arm over his son's shoulder, leaning forward until their red hair mixed. Red, orange, and copper blended together. "I know you're excited. Understandable. Not that I'd really know, since I never actually had a real date-"

Crawford snorted.

"-but I can imagine. Anyways, keep your shields up. At all times- nudge nudge wink wink."

Brett groaned and looked to the ceiling. Not asking for help, just for a helpful chunk of it to take a dive. "I know, I know. We've been through this before." Several times.

Crawford thought he should pick people with influence, moderate wealth, or power and search for weaknesses. Kinks in the armor, with some help from his precognition. Brett never bothered to remind him that unless he was in an anime, it was unlikely he'd find someone like that in high school.

The effort probably would have been wasted anyways.

Schuldig also talked a lot about kinks but they were usually of a different variety. You can get your way he would drawl, so long as you don't forget that you can.

That was the most important rule.

*

It had been a boring date, until now.

Not that it was his date's fault. It wasn't. It was Brett's and his genes and his father's fault. It was hard for things to been very exciting when you kept getting flashes of what would happen every now and then. Or when you knew exactly what the person across from you was thinking- the good, the bad, and the ugly.

It was annoying, knowing so much.

It had been boring, with that double-edged sword known as his Talents was swinging about like an enthusiastic Scotsman.

But now...

Long fingers were wound into his hair, tugging and petting and twisting. Too rapid, too random, for him to know about beforehand. Eager lips were pressed against his, hard but soft and tasting like mint and Pepsi. Teeth tugged at his lower lip, a sly tongue curled against his.

New, very new, but old too because he'd felt it somehow before.

Ignoring that thought, Brett tried to reach that level of not-concentrating he had achieved a few moments ago. Smooth skin under his hands, under his mouth. Moans in his ear, shouts in his thoughts. Louder and louder and-

And it was split up, interrupted, by a knocking in the recess of mind. Rude, untimely, but demanding attention. But he could ignore it anyways, because it couldn't be that important if it didn't...

He stopped thinking again, ignored the scratching at his brain and focused on nails scratching their way down his back. Hissed as they lingered on a scar-

/the skin was smoother than the rest of his back and he ran a finger along the length of it/.

Growling, Brett let himself be kissed again as one hand wound into thick hair and the other rested on one half-covered hip, fingers curling into rough material. Felt smooth skin beneath his palms, trailing up, tingling, brushing over fine hairs.

Broke apart for air then fell back in.

Tasted mint and Pepsi-

Two streets away, a couple were having make up sex. Fast paced, unforgiving, ironic.

and cinnamon and lemon and

A block away, two people were sleeping together for the first time.

and for a moment he was kissing himself, pressed against himself.

In another part of town, someone was being raped.

Pleasure, pain, lust, heat, loss, want, need, lo-

She's beautiful...

What's wrong with him?

Listen to him moan...

You like it, don't you?

Brett shuddered and collapsed onto the seat, onto

He-

She-

And groaned.

It annoyed him, how everything new had to feel old.