Ego and Desire [Katakana Asylum]

"Schuldich. SCHULDICH!"

The name was repeated several times by an angry voice, bouncing violently off the walls of the ears and mind of the man being addressed. The red-haired telepath smiled knowingly to himself, the grin on his face safely concealed in the darkness of the kitchen. He was no stranger to the exasperated tone of voice that had been used on him so many times in the past, and he already knew the reason behind the exasperation *this* time.

He knew from Crawford's impatient tone that the other man wanted to see him in the living room immediately, but he would not give him the satisfaction of doing so. No, he wanted Crawford to come to *him.* For the briefest slice of a moment, two wily, cat-green eyes gleamed to life in the dark.

Schuldich toyed patiently with the loose scarlet strands of his hair while he waited, humming a low German tune under his breath. Oh, the other man would come, he knew--the other man *always* came to him in the past, his patience taut to the point of snapping, knowing Schuldich could hear him, but chose simply not to cooperate.

This time, Schuldich didn't have to wait too long, for the sounds of deliberate footsteps and muttered curses were headed his way, and he could practically *feel* the other man seething through the walls. A moist, pink tongue slowly dampened his lower lip as anticipation sang in his veins, and his heartbeat quickened eagerly. It was like this every time.

The kitchen door was flung open, and it was a good thing Schuldich didn't look up, for the newcomer had a flashlight, and shone it directly in the telepath's face.

"Good evening, Bradley," Schuldich drawled, tilting his head away from the glare of the light, speaking in the other man's native tongue.

Crawford gazed at him coldly. "I'm not even going to ask you how you did it," he said frostily.

Schuldich widened his eyes into a pair of innocent jade orbs. He let the tips of his eyebrows droop forward into a questioning expression, the sides of his mouth curving slightly downward. He would have had any other easily fooled.

"What are you implying, Bradley?" he queried softly, knowing that the charming tone of his voice would get to the older man.

It did. Crawford's jaw tightened; had he been like other men, he would have blown off his top, spitting rage and chaos everywhere. His self-restraint truly was an object of wonder, and Schuldich took personal delight in seeing how far he could push him.

"I know you were behind the 'unexplained' power outtage here," Crawford said, through clenched teeth. And then, he added: "I am tired of your games, Schuldich."

Schuldich blinked, not expecting that, and Crawford flashed him an arrogant sneer.

"Surprised you, didn't I?" he said smugly.

Schuldich serenely smiled back. "The only thing that surprises me about you, Bradley, is why you keep doing this to yourself. You seem to revel in this self-imposed torment of yours."

He stood up. Slowly, purposefully, he stepped forward to stand beside Crawford. The older man did not move, yet his disdainful brown eyes followed Schuldich's every move.

"The only one making you suffer is yourself. I want you. I've made that clear on countless occasions. You want me, and you *know* it. And yet you hold back. You put up a front to turn me away, when you only know it will draw me closer, like a moth to the enticing light of the flame. And you persist in your 'defense', knowing that the more stubborn you appear to be in your resistance, the more determined I become to have you.

"I think you are the one playing games here, Bradley. You set up a challenge knowing it'll only serve to make me attempt to overcome it. And that is what you enjoy, isn't it, Bradley? Watching me suffer in my attempts to seduce you, while you yourself suffer in pretending to refuse, even though you want it as well. It is your ego at work here, desiring to be desired, needing to see how hard one will push, one will go, just to have you."

Schuldich had to admire Crawford's control over his facial expressions. He *knew* the man just *had* to be sweating under that stiff collar! Yet the man still managed to maintain his composure, even as he eyed Schuldich warily.

"Then," Crawford said softly, "if you *do* believe that this is what I want, why don't you just take me by force and ignore me if I protest?"

Schuldich laughed shortly, watching the muscles on Crawford's nape visibly tense at the sound.

"Believe me, I've done that in my dreams," Schuldich said smoothly. "But I don't have any intention of doing that now, tempting as it may be. You see, Bradley, I really think that this whole elaborate scheme of seduction is silly and frustrating. I want you, you want me, and we both know it. We're responsible adults, we've got nothing to lose by letting ourselves indulge. Yet here you are, dodging when your heart would rather be pounced, saying no when you really mean yes. If you say it's because you think it's wrong, I'm not buying it. I know you don't have a conscience, Bradley, because neither do I."

It was Crawford's turn to laugh. The sound was spooky, sending a prickle of goosebumps across the surface of the flesh hidden underneath Schuldich's long sleeves.

"I think you actually believe what you are saying, Schuldich," Crawford said incredulously. "Honestly now, have you plucked this all from my mind?"

"No," Schuldich muttered. "But--" he went on, interrupting Crawford beforethe older man could speak. "I don't need to read your mind to understand the way it works, Bradley."

Crawford didn't reply. He and Schuldich both knew that if anything else were to come out of his mouth after that, it would have to be a lie. Schuldich smirked at Crawford, knowing full well that he had won in this round.

"I'll leave you now, Bradley, to get the power back on," he said gaily, sauntering away from the older man. "I'll leave you to the agony that is so precious to you, and I'm leaving you knowing that when you touch yourself later before going to bed, you'll be thinking of what I've just told you, repeating my words over and over again in your head." He paused, and then, without looking at Crawford, added softly: "You *do* know that you won't be able to keep this up forever."

Schuldich reached into his pocket and removed the penlight he kept handy. Moving toward the far side of the kitchen, he switched on the light and shone it upon the circuitry he had manipulated to cause the brownout. As he reached for the small box of tools he left on the floor, he heard the squeak of leather shoes upon the marble floor, and knew without having to look that Crawford was on his way out of the kitchen.

Out of the kitchen... but not out of the game of ego and desire. Not quite yet. A few moments later, the electricity in the house was back on. And as Schuldich rinsed his dust-coated hands at the sink, he heard a low voice moaning out his name in the room above the kitchen. He grinned, and chuckled softly. He pitied Bradley Crawford, he really did.

"Well, maybe it's time to put the poor man out of his misery," he murmured slyly.