Plan B
It had, obviously, been the wrong bottle to look for an answer in. Somewhere between the cap and the worm an insidious idea had taken hold. It wriggled its way past common sense and ignored every reflexive objection with the blithe assurance of epiphany.
Yohji glared balefully at the empty bottle while the cogs continued their relentless turning and scheming amidst inebriated resignation.
At least he now had a new all time low to measure the rest of his life against.
__________________
It was harder than he had expected, ferreting out the location and current incarnation of Schwartz’s Mastermind. Rusty investigative skills were stretched and strained, until Yohji decided to go for the unsubtle approach. He settled in the corner of a quiet bar and thought about how much he hated the telepath’s smirk.
There was a lot to hate. The smirk spawned from someone else’s misfortune, and inevitably led to that damn smug tone of voice. Perhaps instigated a swagger as Mastermind advanced towards the object of his disdain, those inhumanly cold eyes glittering with the evil twin of proper amusement…
“And here I thought you never noticed.”
That voice. Yohji looked up. Those eyes. That damn smirk. The urge to throw a punch was defeated by the plot still churning in the back of his mind. A social study of insults danced across his consciousness before Yohji settled on a nice, impartial. “Hi.”
“The soul of eloquence, I see. Fujimiya rubbing off on you?” Schuldig’s eyes narrowed as Yohji scowled.
Yohji tried to pretend he couldn’t feel little shivers of telepathy picking through the reflexive irritation mention of Aya caused. Tried to pretend that flash of frustrated lust had never happened.
It was too much to expect Schuldig to be a considerate companion. He tossed his head back with a laugh, just one step from clapping his hands together in glee. “I couldn’t have instigated a better muddle myself. You want the asshole. Well, to put it correctly you want his as…”
A quick kick to the shin paused Schuldig’s commentary, and allowed Yohji to sulk for a moment. It had seemed such a solid plan at the time. Who better to figure out what made Aya tick than the mind reader. How better to figure out how to…
“Get in his pants?” Schuldig supplied helpfully.
Yohji didn’t respond. It would only encourage the bastard.
“My, aren’t you a bright one.” Schuldig beckoned towards the bar. “Let me get you a drink.”
_________________
The bar had been nicely impersonal. The couch in Yohji’s apartment was just awkward. There had been a half eaten, partially dissected pizza on the coffee table; the result of a particularly involved argument over toppings. There were drinks leaving rings on the wood. Schuldig had propped his feet up frighteningly close to the remains of their meal.
“Seriously. You seriously considered taking him to dinner? What do you think he is, a school girl to be swept away by your charm and impressively thick wallet?” Schuldig snorted and swiped the last piece of ham and pineapple.
“What the hell would you do?”
“I definitely wouldn’t try and woo the guy. Were you going to buy him flowers while you were at it?”
“You’re the mind reader. What would you do?”
“Bring him the head of his worst enemy.” Schuldig scowled. “Don’t get any ideas.”
__________________-
Schuldig’s place had been little better than a hotel room. From the minute he toed his shoes off, Yohji had been far too aware of the fact he was in the other man’s personal space. Schuldig draped himself across a plain wooden chair and grinned. “Help yourself to anything in the fridge.”
There was a sort of anticipation in the air that Yohji was pretty damn sure wasn’t his fault. It came from the honesty that curled at the edge of Schuldig’s smile, in the way familiar posturing had been discarded in favor of more honest interaction. He didn’t know exactly what was going on, but, as Yohji settled across the table from Schuldig, he had the feeling it wasn’t all about Aya anymore.
Yohji tried to ignore the fact he could almost feel Schuldig watching him as he rifled through the fridge before deciding upon a beer.
“So, what stupid idea of yours am I supposed to dissect today? Entertaining any images of bringing your love to the opera?”
Yohji only just managed to resist the urge to stick out his tongue. He did manage to reach across the table and lightly cuff Schuldig, who obligingly enough didn’t bother to dodge.
Schuldig had soft hair.
________________
It was worth the brief flash of surprise in Schuldig’s eyes when Yohji showed up with takeout and a rented movie.
“What the hell?”
“You going to let me in or do I have to go home and eat this all myself?”
Schuldig stepped out of the doorway, his eyes narrowed; face settled into what Yohji had come to call his thinking face. Schuldig was trying to analyze the situation, which meant Yohji had caught him off guard. Yohji smiled and silently tallied a point to himself.
Schuldig bared his teeth in a nasty little smile. “I didn’t know we were counting.”
_________________
Schuldig did so hate to lose.
Yohji wouldn’t never admit to anticipating it, but he was definitely not caught by surprise when Schuldig rested his head on Yohji’s shoulder in the middle of a marathon of terrible horror movies.
Yohji had expected Schuldig to try something.
He hadn’t expected it to be something so…simple.
Or that he wouldn’t mind.
________________
It had been weeks since Schuldig had even harassed Yohji into explaining his newest plan, his most recent ploy to express his affections to Aya.
It had been weeks since Yohji had thought one up.
It had, obviously, been the wrong bottle to look for an answer in. Somewhere between the cap and the worm an insidious idea had taken hold. It wriggled its way past common sense and ignored every reflexive objection with the blithe assurance of epiphany.
Yohji glared balefully at the empty bottle while the cogs continued their relentless turning and scheming amidst inebriated resignation.
At least he now had a new all time low to measure the rest of his life against.
__________________
It was harder than he had expected, ferreting out the location and current incarnation of Schwartz’s Mastermind. Rusty investigative skills were stretched and strained, until Yohji decided to go for the unsubtle approach. He settled in the corner of a quiet bar and thought about how much he hated the telepath’s smirk.
There was a lot to hate. The smirk spawned from someone else’s misfortune, and inevitably led to that damn smug tone of voice. Perhaps instigated a swagger as Mastermind advanced towards the object of his disdain, those inhumanly cold eyes glittering with the evil twin of proper amusement…
“And here I thought you never noticed.”
That voice. Yohji looked up. Those eyes. That damn smirk. The urge to throw a punch was defeated by the plot still churning in the back of his mind. A social study of insults danced across his consciousness before Yohji settled on a nice, impartial. “Hi.”
“The soul of eloquence, I see. Fujimiya rubbing off on you?” Schuldig’s eyes narrowed as Yohji scowled.
Yohji tried to pretend he couldn’t feel little shivers of telepathy picking through the reflexive irritation mention of Aya caused. Tried to pretend that flash of frustrated lust had never happened.
It was too much to expect Schuldig to be a considerate companion. He tossed his head back with a laugh, just one step from clapping his hands together in glee. “I couldn’t have instigated a better muddle myself. You want the asshole. Well, to put it correctly you want his as…”
A quick kick to the shin paused Schuldig’s commentary, and allowed Yohji to sulk for a moment. It had seemed such a solid plan at the time. Who better to figure out what made Aya tick than the mind reader. How better to figure out how to…
“Get in his pants?” Schuldig supplied helpfully.
Yohji didn’t respond. It would only encourage the bastard.
“My, aren’t you a bright one.” Schuldig beckoned towards the bar. “Let me get you a drink.”
_________________
The bar had been nicely impersonal. The couch in Yohji’s apartment was just awkward. There had been a half eaten, partially dissected pizza on the coffee table; the result of a particularly involved argument over toppings. There were drinks leaving rings on the wood. Schuldig had propped his feet up frighteningly close to the remains of their meal.
“Seriously. You seriously considered taking him to dinner? What do you think he is, a school girl to be swept away by your charm and impressively thick wallet?” Schuldig snorted and swiped the last piece of ham and pineapple.
“What the hell would you do?”
“I definitely wouldn’t try and woo the guy. Were you going to buy him flowers while you were at it?”
“You’re the mind reader. What would you do?”
“Bring him the head of his worst enemy.” Schuldig scowled. “Don’t get any ideas.”
__________________-
Schuldig’s place had been little better than a hotel room. From the minute he toed his shoes off, Yohji had been far too aware of the fact he was in the other man’s personal space. Schuldig draped himself across a plain wooden chair and grinned. “Help yourself to anything in the fridge.”
There was a sort of anticipation in the air that Yohji was pretty damn sure wasn’t his fault. It came from the honesty that curled at the edge of Schuldig’s smile, in the way familiar posturing had been discarded in favor of more honest interaction. He didn’t know exactly what was going on, but, as Yohji settled across the table from Schuldig, he had the feeling it wasn’t all about Aya anymore.
Yohji tried to ignore the fact he could almost feel Schuldig watching him as he rifled through the fridge before deciding upon a beer.
“So, what stupid idea of yours am I supposed to dissect today? Entertaining any images of bringing your love to the opera?”
Yohji only just managed to resist the urge to stick out his tongue. He did manage to reach across the table and lightly cuff Schuldig, who obligingly enough didn’t bother to dodge.
Schuldig had soft hair.
________________
It was worth the brief flash of surprise in Schuldig’s eyes when Yohji showed up with takeout and a rented movie.
“What the hell?”
“You going to let me in or do I have to go home and eat this all myself?”
Schuldig stepped out of the doorway, his eyes narrowed; face settled into what Yohji had come to call his thinking face. Schuldig was trying to analyze the situation, which meant Yohji had caught him off guard. Yohji smiled and silently tallied a point to himself.
Schuldig bared his teeth in a nasty little smile. “I didn’t know we were counting.”
_________________
Schuldig did so hate to lose.
Yohji wouldn’t never admit to anticipating it, but he was definitely not caught by surprise when Schuldig rested his head on Yohji’s shoulder in the middle of a marathon of terrible horror movies.
Yohji had expected Schuldig to try something.
He hadn’t expected it to be something so…simple.
Or that he wouldn’t mind.
________________
It had been weeks since Schuldig had even harassed Yohji into explaining his newest plan, his most recent ploy to express his affections to Aya.
It had been weeks since Yohji had thought one up.
