Sometimes it would have been nice if Nagi wasn't fifteen and Farfarello wasn't crazy. Crawford sat at the steering wheel, gripping it until his knuckles were pale. Farfarello, sitting in the front passenger's seat, cackled about his hands. The American's eyes darted up to the rear view mirror, looking at the two forms in the back seat. One was hovering over the other, who moaned softly. Golf clubs hurt. "We're almost home, Schuldich..." Nagi growled about no one *listening* to him about the first aid kit in the car. No one listened to some kid! His midnight eyes looked with worry towards the redhead. Did Takatori really have to hit him in the ribs and stomach *that* hard? Did he really have to kill off every last brain cell Schu had, which Schu badly *needed*!? Crawford slowed the car down, pulling into the driveway. The headlights snapped off and the inner car-light beamed on as soon as the car had stopped; Crawford had opened the door with haste. "Get him out of there," he ordered, looking out into the night. "Come on!" Nagi Naoe pulled. Schu cried out, and Nagi tried lifting under the arms. Another cry echoed inside the car. The fifteen-year-old looked up at Crawford with an "Umm, help?" expression on his face. The American shooed the younger boy just out of the car, and he slid in himself. "Schuldich..." "Uhnn..." "Come here," Brad soothed, pulling the German ever-so gently into his lap. He moved his hands and arms under the middle of his passenger's back and the back of his knees, and slid out of the car. Nagi herded Farfarello back into the house and left the door open for the eldest Schwarz members to walk in. Immediately Brad walked up the stairs, Nagi close behind with a tool box in his hands labeled First Aid. The process was slow, Crawford was gentle with his steps, crooning soft things to the softly panting lover. Nagi got some weird thoughts about the noise as they reached the top floor. Nagi put down the first aid box in front of Crawford's door and made a haste downstairs to lock up Farfarello. The American placed Schul on the bed and in two long strides he reached the door and grabbed the first aid kit. He sat down gently on the bed by the German, opening it, until he hissed. "Don't touch me with that stuff," he scratched out. "I deserved it. That bastard Takatori knows what the hell he's talking about, I don't--" "Schuldich," Brad said with a slight growl, hand reaching to cover the redhead's mouth. His fixtures were serious, chocolate eyes a deeper cocoa, brows furrowed a little. "You don't deserve getting beaten to bloody hell by a *golf club*!" Schuldich would have said something, but a hand was in the way, and his jaw hurt... He didn't want to bother biting away the hand. He only sighed, too sore to bother moving. Brad removed his hand and quickly sat up, features softening slightly at the heavily breathing body beside him. "Help me," he said quietly and moved his hands to carefully untuck the hunter-green spandex shirt from Schu's pants, the German arching slightly and moving his arms accordingly to get it off. He blearily thought about where the hell his blazer was... Aa, he'd find it later... Rubbing waterless anti-bacterial soap onto his hands, Crawford pulled out clean bandages and started wrapping them around the confused man--boy..?--below him, softly crooning at him when he had to rub softly at the skin to move it into place. It caused Schuldich to sigh softly, hiding his pain. He finished repairing the wounds he could and closed the first aid kid, setting it down beside the bed, pulling his glasses off and putting them on the nightstand. He removed his clothing, tossing it into a pile, and slowly peeled away Schu's pants, putting the comforter over both of them. As soon as he was flat out on the bed, Schuldich scooted painfully towards him, draping an arm over him. He whimpered softly, hiding his bruised face in Crawford's neck. "It hurts," he whispered. "Fucking God, it hurts..." Brad slipped his arms in the most comfortable position for the redhead, burying his nose into the unruly locks. "Give me your pain," he said softly. "Let me help you take it away." "Saa... Brad..." "Let me help you." The permission was granted in a terribly genuine tone. Despite the guilt he felt about giving some of the pain away, Schuldich's head felt a little lighter, a little less loud and high pitched. A soft sigh escaped his mouth and he moved closer to Brad, warming himself up a little more. It hurt to talk now. Brad wanted to spill his mind completely, but oh god, it hurt to even think. But he was taking the pain away from his love, making him feel so much better... The pain he took away as worth every minute. "Danke," Schu murmured, softly pressing his lips to Brad's collarbone, sucking, kissing, licking. This act, in itself, relaxed him more than the American, sighing. "Thank you so much." Brad shivered slightly against the touch. "Any time, Schu-love," he said, purring slightly. The pain lifted, and for a moment, he thought Schu had taken it back. But he was just now peacefully sleeping, mouth still pressed firmly against his skin. He ran his hands down Schu's back, sighing softly, feeling sleep tug at his eyelids. He didn't move to make himself more comfortable... His mind echoed. Only for Schuldich, only for Schuldich. Fanfiction Main |