Mirror, Mirror, Weiß kreuz (Yohji/Schuldig)
Title: Mirror, Mirror Author/Artist: purkledragon Rating: PG13ish Warnings: slight solo, voyeurism Word count: 848 Summary: Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the most fucked up of all? A/N: July 2: Weiss Kreuz – Yohji/Schuldig – two way mirror – “He wondered if he knew that he was being watched like this…”
(my apologies, I so mixed up my dates when writing down the prompt for this)
There's nothing like playing a game of Cat and Mouse with one of the Kittens, especially when they don't realize they're the mouse. It's frightening how easy it is to stay hidden in the shadows just out of view and seemingly out of Kudoh's perception range; especially as I'm not even trying. Crawford had been bitching that I'd gotten lazy lately, so I came out looking for a challenge. Wonder of wonders but who walks by?
He's dressed to kill, and I mean that. The only thing worse for an assassin to wear besides that blue coat of his would be a target on his bare chest.
I recognize the building we head into immediately; looks as if one of Takatori's political bedfellows is going down a little sooner than Crawford has planned. Then again, knowing Crawford he sent me out here to make sure it goes right. I almost check to make sure, but he'll let me know if I'm wrong.
Kudoh takes the elevator completely unnoticed. I wait, watching to verify which floor the elevator stops on before taking the stairs; I'm faster and no one will know I'm coming.
They're in the conference room on the far end of the hall; the one where we had to stand being the perfect intimidation squad Takatori demanded we be just last week. Unable to cause havoc and bloodshed, we played “how many security devices can you find” instead. I found the trip wire and two cameras. Farfarello found the safe, the gun under the table, and the trap door. Crawford didn't play, but glared at us as if the others in the room could tell what we were doing. The best discover though was Nagi's. He figured out that the ornate mirror on the wall was two way.
There's a door from the hallway into the room next to the conference room, I slip in and close the door slowly to make no noise. He's already finishing the job, in some obscene parody of sex. He's standing behind the guy, wire wrapped tight around his neck, lifting and dropping him almost rhythmically. It's actually kind of hot. Knew he had to be strong to use that damn wire, but...nice.
When he's done he drops the man on the ground in disgust. I can almost feel it through the wall. The level of torment these boys put themselves through, what a shame.
I turn to leave slowly, expecting him to be out the door before I get there, but movement of the not leaving kind catches in the corner of my eye. How delightfully shameful. It looks like dead girls don't do it for him any more; someone is seriously fucked up.
Oh the things you see when you don't have a camera. He's leaning against the table, facing the mirror so I get the full view. I wonder for a moment how he got his hand between himself and those pants, but that becomes a mute point when he pushes the clothing mostly out of the way. A single gloved hand frantically wraps around his cock while the other holds on to the table just as desperately.
I bet Tsukiyono would skin him alive if he found out about this.
There is no elegance or grace to his actions. Then again, this is all pent up release; I can feel the heat of it beating against me. I let it cover me, lowering my shields just enough to let him in. Doesn't take me too long before I'm caught up in his frenzy. Slow down. Let's enjoy this. He's so lost he doesn't even realize what just happened.
His eyes are closed, but I keep mine open and locked hard on him. We all jerk off basically the same, but every guy has his own style. So I watch Kudoh, my eyes moving between his face and hand.
Never thought gloves could be so hot, but watching as the black leather slides over that hard pink flesh has me picking up my pace. We're both so close to the edge, he's pretty oblivious to anything else except what his hand is doing. Suddenly he stops dead still. I almost cry out in shared frustration. Almost as he'd hear me for sure. His team is wondering what's taking him so long. I don't hear his reply but watch as he tucks himself back into his pants. The spell's broken for the both of us unfortunately.
He glares at the mirror as he goes to leave, making me think for a moment he sees me but I know better. It's not me he's aiming that look at, it's what he sees reflected back at him that he's really angry at.
That's alright Kitten, let's just leave this for another night shall we?