title: Ripe
fandom: Weiss Kreuz
characters/pairings: Yohji/Ken, pseudo-Yohji/Shuldig, Crawford
rating: Teen
warnings: sex and pomegranates
summary: Yohji find himself under the influence of strange fruit.
notes: for Kendra, her ficlet on demand. ^_^ sort of like what she wanted... tho i don't know if pomegranates are citrus. *shrugs* they do make a big mess, and make a person look like they're covered in blood...

The sun was a little too ethereal as it illuminated the park. Yohji squinted as he watched Ken running back and forth, the sweat basting his bare torso. Sighing, Yohji closed his eyes, slumping so that his head spilled over the back of the bench, his hair pouring off of him.

"He's certainly fit."

Only the voice was inside of his head. Yohji frowned, and sat up.

Schuldig was sitting next to him, grinning. He set a bag of unidentifiable fruit down on the bench between them, tossing one in the air jauntily. He continued to speak without words. "I certainly hope you aren't going to go through with what you were thinking about earlier. If it's not illegal, it should be."

"Get out of my head, pervert." Yohji crossed his arms over his chest and glared off into the sunshine, where Ken was kicking around the soccer ball.

Schuldig smirked. "Ah, but your head has such lovely images to play with, how can I resist?" He cut the fruit he was tossing around in half with an ornate, silver blade with a large ruby set into the hilt.

Yohji blinked, watching the blood from the fruit spill out all over Schuldig's bare chest.

"Pomegranates," Schuldig sighed, speaking aloud, he was so disconcerted. "Damned messy. They symbolize fertility, you know. Care for a bite?"

He held out half of the fruit, biting into the bleeding seeds of his half. The blood seemed to pour down his face and neck, coating him.

Yohji turned away. "I'm not aroused by that, you know."

Schuldig's laughter shamed him. "No, that's why you need to cross your legs. Hypocrite. Come, have a bite." The fruit was in his hands, under his nose. "Your hands are already covered in blood."

It was true. His hands were covered in blood. What difference did it make?

He bit down, the blood filling his mouth immediately. He felt like he was going to drown on it, it filled his throat so. He tried to spit it out, but his lips were covered by Schuldig's mouth, and he couldn't breathe.

Schuldig laughed inside of his head, the sound echoing inside his skull. Schuldig's hand smoothed up and down the bare skin of his back, right over his spine, and he couldn't pretend not to be aroused, because Schuldig's other hand was unbuttoning his pants. "See," Schuldig proclaimed triumphantly while choking Yohji with his kiss, "we're two of a kind; made of the same stuff."

Yohji grabbed Schuldig's ears and shoved his face away. When did he get naked? This wasn't right, but he wasn't able to work it out in his head, because Schuldig was inside of him, filling his thoughts with dirty images of murder and sex. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't take a single breath, he thought he might die...

Schuldig squeezed the last of his pomegranate over Yohji's crotch, and used the blood to pump his shaft, taunting him with loving kisses on his neck and shoulder. Yohji wanted to deny him, to reject him, but Schuldig was leading the trail of his thoughts, laughing inside of him.

He came.

Schuldig ran his bloody hands through the puddle of come in the middle of his chest, and painted Yohji a creamy pink. Schuldig was kissing him, probing and tasting him, and Yohji was only half-sure that it was real, and not just happening inside his head.

"Admit it. You liked it."

"Hey, pomegranates!" Ken jogged over, wearing nothing but the skimpiest of athletic shorts and his gloves. He pulled a pomegranate out of the bag, cut it precisely with his blade, just penetrating the skin. He then cut out a wedge at the top, and popped the fruit open expertly, revealing a perfect spiral of wedges filled with ripe, juicy seeds. He offered it to Yohji. "It's a symbol of fertility you know. Never know, maybe if you have some, you won't be barren anymore."

Schuldig was laughing out loud now.

Yohji woke up with a start, panting a little. It took him a moment to orient himself in the darkness of his room.

He was at home. It had been a dream. He had come in his sleep.

He turned over, and planted a foot and a hand on his lover, pushing hard until Ken spilled out of bed.


Yohji wrapped all the blankets around him. "Go back to your room. I have strange dreams when you top."

Schuldig was sitting on the balcony again, perched on the railing, smoking a cigarette with the kind of passion that comes from true enjoyment. Crawford searched the scene, trying to find the threads of destiny that would lead to Schuldig spilling over the edge to his doom, but they weren't there. Sighing, Crawford walked by.

"You look like the cat who ate the canary."

Schuldig grinned from ear to ear. "Well, I got to scratch the canary at least... maybe next time, I'll work us up to eating."