It was five in the afternoon when the phone rang. Yohji groaned. They already had ten orders that had to be ready tomorrow. He considered just not answering, but Aya would hear it sooner or later, even from the back room.

"Kitten in the House florists, how may I help you?"

"Well," a voice drawled, "you can start by stripping, and then--"

"Schuldig!" Yohji hissed. "Shut up! You can't call me here, how the fuck did you get this number?"

There was a brief silence. "Phonebook, Kudoh."

"Oh. Yeah."

"Not that I couldn't have picked it out of your head, but the phonebook's easier."

"Yeah, okay, shut up already. What do you want?"

"Do I have to repeat myself? I said you can start by--"

"Stop that! I'm at work."

Schuldig laughed. "Christ, you sound so outraged. Like the other woman's called while you're home with your wife. Got something with the redhead on the side? I won't tell, scout's honor."

Yohji hung up on him.

The phone rang again ten seconds later.

"Kitten in the House florists, how may--"

"Oh, come on, at least tell me what you're wearing."

"Loose jeans that are not sexy in any way and a big grey sweatshirt."

"Liar. Fine, I'll tell you what you're wearing."

Yohji glanced out the front window. "How--"

"Telepath. Now, let's see...you were so lying about the jeans. So tight I can tell you're not wearing underwear. That half-shirt... Jesus, how did anyone ever think you were straight?"

"I am--"

"But that's not nearly as interesting as what you could be wearing."

Yohji shut up and listened, despite himself.

"Can't be all that comfortable, jeans rubbing right against your cock all day. You need something in between. Say, something red, satin, a little bit of lace..."

"Shut the hell up!"

"Oh, come on," Schuldig purred. "Don't tell me you've never thought about it. Everyone thinks about it--trust me on this. It feels nice, all slick and cool when you first put them on...tight, too. Wrapped around your cock like a hand in a satin glove. Lace scratching at your thigh..."

"I'm not... This isn't... I'm supposed to be working," Yohji finished, lamely. It was only Schuldig's voice that was getting him hard, nothing else. Like those dogs, with their fucking bells.

"And you're walking around all day like that, and no one knows, just your dirty little secret. And mine, of course. I know all your secrets."

Yohji swallowed.

"Oh, yeah. Every sick jerk-off fantasy you've ever had, Kudoh. Remember that dream last week, bent over and fucked in the middle of the dance floor? I can make it happen. You can have every guy in the club...or rather, they can have you." Quiet laughter, menacing and velvet-smooth.

Yohji gritted his teeth hard and shut his eyes for a second. He kept himself from snapping back long enough to think for a second. He was tired of taking Schuldig's shit. It was time to give something back.

"Are you working from some kind of script?" he asked.

"...What?"

"Because those are pretty bad lines. You should think about firing your writer."

Silence. Yohji smiled. "Oh, I'm sorry. Did you write all that yourself? Well, you know. Some people just don't have that talent. Nothing to be ashamed of."

Schuldig hung up on him.

Yohji grinned and copied down the number that showed up on caller ID.

Schuldig groped for his cell phone in the dark and flipped it open.

"What?" he snapped.

"Is that any way to answer the phone?"

"What?"

"Didn't your mother teach you any manners?"

"Kudoh?"

"Little slow on the uptake for a telepath, aren't you?"

Schuldig sat up in the dark, blinking. He went after Yohji, not the other way around. On a scale of wrong, this was right up there with Nagi laughing. No, this was worse. This was like Nagi dating. What the fuck?

"I was asleep," he said, and then winced, suddenly aware of how many points that admission had lost him. "What the fuck time is it?"

"Two in the morning."

"You waited, didn't you? You waited till you knew I'd be asleep. Little fucker."

"You're the little fucker, Schu. I'm the little fuckee."

Schuldig barely stopped himself laughing. That wasn't how the game was played. "If that's what you called for, I'm a little busy right now, but I could pencil you in for tomorrow..."

"Nah," Yohji said. "You said I could start by stripping. Just thought I'd see what you said next."

"You're naked?" Fuck, but Schuldig hated being this slow. He shook his head and threw the covers back, shivering in the cool air.

"You're the telepath. You tell me."

He was. Schuldig knew it almost before he reached out to Yohji's mind. Naked and hard, too. Lust both colored and clouded his thoughts. And he hadn't gone out and picked up some girl. He'd called Schuldig. Interesting.

"So you are. Go and pull a chair up in front of that mirror. I want to watch."

"If you can't see me, how do you know I'm naked?"

"Because you know you're naked, idiot. Stop asking stupid questions and move the chair."

Yohji moved the chair.

Schuldig closed his eyes and looked through Yohji's instead. He smiled.

"Good. Now spread your legs."

Yohji obeyed. "Like what you see?"

"Remember what I said about little fucker?"

It didn't even phase him. Now, that was confidence. Schuldig was almost impressed. Most guys took size cracks about as well as Farfarello took Catholic jokes. Of course, Yohji really had nothing to worry about.

Schuldig looked him over slowly; hard cock, tight muscles, smug smile. Even his tan was perfect. Bastard.

"Asshole," Yohji said, but there was no heat in it.

"We'll get to that later."

Finally, a touch of unease from Yohji. Schuldig smiled to himself and showed Yohji himself through Schuldig's eyes, pinned against the wall, tied to the bed, hard and panting.

"Fuck," Yohji breathed.

"Mmhmm. That's the idea. But for now...just touch yourself."

Yohji did, palm rubbing once over the head of his cock and then wrapping around and sliding down, up, down. Fast and hard, no warm up at all, but that was understandable. He seemed to be fairly warm already.

"Slower," Schuldig said.

Yohji ignored him.

"I can make you go slower." He wasn't sure he could from this distance, but it sounded good. It would be interesting to find out, anyway.

"Yeah, right," Yohji gasped, but he did slow down. Maybe he didn't want to find out.

"Good boy."

Schuldig had expected a 'Fuck you' in response to that, but Yohji said nothing. Schuldig looked out through his eyes and saw nothing.

"Open your eyes, idiot."

They opened, first a slit, and then more. Yohji stared back at him from the mirror.

Yohji's face was flushed, and his cock stood up hard between his thighs, fluid glistening at the tip. His thumb caught it and smeared it across the head.

Schuldig closed his own eyes for a second, feeling his breath come faster, though still not as fast as Yohji's. "Anyone ever told you you're easy, Yohji?"

"Lots of people."

"Surprise, surprise. Anyone ever told you your ass was made to be fucked?"

No answer. Schuldig smiled. "No? Well, I doubt I'm the first guy who's thought about it. Or about getting you down on your knees and fucking that pretty mouth of yours. How does that sound?"

"Not gonna happen," Yohji said.

But Schuldig could see him in the mirror, his hand speeding up again, tongue flicking out to wet his lips.

Schuldig laughed. "Oh, it'll happen. I can be patient."

"Funny," Yohji panted. "Hadn't noticed."

"You have no idea how patient I've been with you. I could have you over here sucking my dick right now. In fact, maybe I should..."

He'd intended to say more, but Yohji was right on the edge, fist tight, pumping hard. He felt it as Yohji came, a slow roll of pleasure through his body, almost enough to get him off with no touch at all. Almost, but not quite.

"If the idea turns you on that much--" he started, smirking.

"Sorry, what?" Yohji interrupted. "I stopped listening a while ago."

And then the bastard hung up on him.

Schuldig glared at the phone for a second and then gave up and set it aside. This was the second time Yohji had left him hard with only his own hand for company. Something was changing, and Schuldig didn't like it.