Title stolen from Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird by Wallace Stevens. Beta love to mistressrenet. This part takes place after the fire and Reiji Takatori's death and the temporary disbandment of Weiss.

Yohji hadn't left his apartment in two weeks. If anyone'd asked, he would've told them that losing so much hair to the fire had been an insurmountable blow to his vanity and he wasn't coming out again until it grew back.

In reality, he was just...tired. Anyway, nobody asked.

The hair thing was pretty bad, he had to admit. He needed to get a proper haircut at some point. For the moment, he'd taken scissors to it himself. With enough hair gel, it looked like a fashion statement. Nobody had seen it yet except the delivery guys

At 2:30 on a sunny Wednesday afternoon, he was still in bed, smoking. There was a growing pile of cigarette butts in the ashtray beside his bed. His clothes sat in his open suitcase across the room. There were a few CDs, too, a couple old photographs, a handful of random crap he'd swept off his dresser in the rush to pack.

His laptop sat on the small couch by the window. His one rescued pair of shoes and his mission boots were stationed by the door. That was it. His whole life packed into a suitcase, himself packed into a one-room apartment.

He'd made a list of pros and cons regarding this situation his fifth day here.

-Pros-
No killing people
Lots of quiet
Weighed down by fewer possessions (?)

He wasn't sure that last one was actually a pro.

-Cons-
No idea what to do with life other than kill people
Missing Aya and Ken and even Omi
Manx is a horrible person who won't give out any of their numbers or their new email addresses
Washing hair with dish soap = not a good idea
Limited food options

Technically that last one didn't count. It was his own fault for only eating what someone was prepared to deliver to his door. The list was stuck to his fridge with gum because he had no fridge magnets. It was probably there for good.

He dragged himself out of bed. Today was the day. He'd go out, get some groceries, some new jeans, maybe a haircut and a gym membership. Right after he checked his email.

It wasn't something he'd expected to take up much time. More of a ritual: wake the computer from its sleep, push the mail icon, wait for the disheartening clonk noise that meant no one gave a shit whether he lived or died. Today, there was no clonk. Instead, there was a bright and cheerful ding. He opened the email.

still want me to leave you alone, dipshit?

So. He knew who that was from, even without the address. The reply he sent was:

Yes.

But he didn't mean it this time. He wondered if Schuldig would know that. He went to shower and clip a few more stray burnt ends out of his hair. When he got back, he had another email.

want my dick in your ass again?

Yohji rolled his eyes. He absolutely didn't think that was funny, even a little bit.

I can't deal with all this romance. You're gonna make me cry.

He got dressed in relatively clean clothes and stood in front of the door for five minutes. He reached for the doorknob about twenty times before he finally smacked himself across the face--it stung--and wrenched the door open. Like hell he was going to stay in this shit apartment for the rest of his life.

When he returned four hours later, he had new jeans, laundry detergent, a slightly less frightening haircut, real shampoo, a lot of instant curry and instant noodles, and actual fresh vegetables. He also had another email.

stop feeling sorry for yourself and get on aim. you loser.

Yohji frowned.

What's aim?

He had to wait about an hour for the response, but he made good use of the time. Steamed vegetables and sesame oil tasted almost shockingly good after two weeks of grease and malnutrition.

omg moron. go here.

There was a link, which Yohji followed. He downloaded some software and set himself up an account. He signed on.

heresjohnny: took you long enough. that's the most boring screen name ever
yohjik: Fuck you too, JOHNNY.
heresjohnny: it's from a movie, shut up
yohjik: What movie?
heresjohnny: i knew i should've gone with redrum
yohjik: Murder backwards? Oh, that's subtle.
heresjohnny: dammit
heresjohnny: now you're spoiled for the movie
yohjik: WHAT fucking movie?
heresjohnny: never mind
yohjik: I hate you.
heresjohnny: do not
yohjik: Do too.
heresjohnny: do not
yohjik: Do too.
heresjohnny: do not and you think i'm hot too
yohjik: I am rolling my eyes right now. Also, why are we doing this over a computer when you can talk into my head?
heresjohnny: i'm trying to be polite, you dick
yohjik: Ha, ha.
heresjohnny: i knew this was a waste of time
yohjik: Must be nice to be right so often.
heresjohnny: must suck to be a fucking DICK so often

Schuldig signed off, and Yohji looked blankly at the computer screen for a minute before he did the same.

Crawford smacked the back of Schuldig's head, hard.

"Hey! What was that for?"

"Being stupid."

"He's being a pissy little bitch! And since when do you give a shit anyway?"

Crawford dragged a chair closer and sat. He watched Schuldig's face with a disturbing intensity that Schuldig had come to associate with the use of his talent.

"What?" Schuldig demanded. "Do I have a fatal disease and he has to give me bone marrow or something? Stop looking like that."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Then what--"

"But I might point out that he has a very good reason to be angry with you. And that an apology might help, if you were looking for a solution rather than another round of not very creative insults, although I do realize that's what you two do for fun."

"This from Mr. Never Apologize Never Explain?"

"You asked for advice."

"I did not!"

"Well, you should have. You could use some. You're a very bad boyfriend," Crawford said solemnly. He left while Schuldig was still sputtering too hard to form words.

He wouldn't apologize. He wasn't sorry. He didn't know why he'd bothered to email Yohji in the first place. And Crawford giving him relationship advice was frankly creepy.

"Schuldig."

He looked up. Farfarello had poked his head through the door and was watching him. "What?"

"Bored. Want to go hunting?"

Schuldig winced and hoped Crawford wasn't lurking nearby. He wasn't supposed to encourage Farfarello's bad habits, and usually he didn't. But he'd felt restless this past month, in need of something to do with himself. Obviously, it was a complete coincidence that he'd last had sex with Yohji in an alley about a month ago.

"I think it'd be a bad idea," he said. "You know what Crawford said after the last one, and he'll be watching."

Farfarello shrugged and climbed up to perch on Schuldig's bed like an oddly jointed bird. "Are you going to write him?"

"Who, Crawford?"

"You know who."

Schuldig got up and shoved him off the bed. Farfarello took it calmly, looking up at him from the floor.

"My whole life is suddenly about him, according to you assholes! I'm sure Crawford's plotting something, but what do you care who I fuck?"

Farfarello stretched out on the floor and propped his feet on the side of Schuldig's desk. "No one but you's mentioned him for weeks. Thought you were done."

Schuldig kicked him, not hard enough to bruise and it wasn't like he could feel it, but it was the principle of the thing. Farfarello grabbed his foot and twisted until he overbalanced and fell to the floor.

"Ow!"

"Crawford's right," Farfarello said. "Apologizing would help. Normal people like that. Crawford always made Nagi apologize when he was younger and broke things."

"Are you calling Crawford normal?"

Farfarello shrugged. "Normaller than us."

He wasn't sure Crawford was normaller than anybody, but he did see Farfarello's point. "I'm not sorry."

"Neither was Nagi. You don't have to be sorry unless you expect to be absolved of your sins."

"I like my sins right where they are."

"Then you've nothing to worry about."

"Oh--fine." He went to the computer and opened his email program.

sorry

The reply came back before he was prepared for it.

Sorry for what?

"Dammit."

Farfarello got to his knees and looked at the screen. "Sorry you upset him."

"I'm not!"

"Schuldig."

"What?"

"Apologize or kill him. You're getting boring."

"I'll kill him," Schuldig said, but he didn't move and he knew he wasn't going to. The worst part was that Farfarello clearly didn't think leaving Yohji alone was an option anymore.

for upsetting you

He stared at the words for a long time before he hit send. Yohji's reply came back almost immediately.

Like hell you are.

Farfarello looked between Schuldig and the screen as if he were watching a tennis match. "I could kill him," he offered, ever helpful.

"If anyone's killing him, it's going to be me," Schuldig said.

fine, i'm not. fuck you anyway.

He pressed send. That was probably that. A couple of rounds in the back of Yohji's head and Schuldig would never have to think about him again and Crawford would shut the hell up about it and everything would go back to normal.

Ding, said his computer.

He had another email.

I'm on AIM if you want to not storm off this time.

"Are you just going to sit there?" Schuldig asked Farfarello.

"You said I shouldn't go out."

"I said you shouldn't go out and kill people."

Farfarello shrugged. "Same difference."

"You know I hate when you say that. Are you American? Are you in high school? Does it make any fucking sense whatsoever? No, no, and no."

"I like American television."

"You would."

Farfarello propped his chin on Schuldig's thigh. "Are you going to have cybersex now?"

"Maybe."

"I'll watch."

"Fine, whatever."

He signed on.

heresjohnny: hey
yohjik: Hey. You apologized.
heresjohnny: i'm not actually sorry
yohjik: I know that, I'm not stupid.
heresjohnny: what, it still counts?
yohjik: You get points for trying.
heresjohnny: do i get to cash these points in for sex?
yohjik: Maybe.
heresjohnny: how about a blowjob?
yohjik: How about you unzip your pants?

He didn't have to. Farfarello did it for him.

heresjohnny: done. you've had cybersex before haven't you?
yohjik: I didn't even know what AIM was, dumbass. And you're spoiling the mood here.

"Oh, that's disgusting," Nagi said, from the open doorway.

"You're disgusting," Schuldig said, without looking at him. "You're the one watching and thinking about--" He stopped and looked over at Nagi, frowning. "Ramen? You're watching me having cybersex and thinking about ramen? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I'm hungry."

"I've got something for you to put in your--"

"If you want to keep it, don't finish that sentence." Nagi left. After a few seconds, the door shut behind him.

Schuldig looked back at the screen, trying to remember what he'd meant to say before the interruption. Oh, yeah.

heresjohnny: am not
yohjik: We're not doing that again. Put your hand on your dick.
heresjohnny: now who's mr romance?
yohjik: Did you do it?

Farfarello to the rescue again. He held the base of Schuldig's cock and ran his tongue up one side, swirling around the head. Schuldig's breath hitched a little, and he started to get hard.

Yohji, a quick telepathic check-up showed him, was already hard. He was on the bed with his laptop and without his jeans. The images in his head were all of blowing Schuldig in that movie theater.

heresjohnny: i did it. i'm doing it. are you srsly getting off on this?
yohjik: Are you?
heresjohnny: maybe
yohjik: freak
heresjohnny: put your fingers up your ass. go get lube, i'll wait

There was a long pause. Yohji was stroking his dick, staring at the computer screen, wanting to. Schuldig could've pushed him into it, but he didn't.

He didn't have to. Yohji dug a bottle out from under the bed and squirted some onto his fingers. He spread his legs and rubbed cool gel over his hole. Down a hand, his typing got much slower.

Farfarello eased his lips up the shaft of Schuldig's cock, and Schuldig's typing got a bit slower as well.

yohjik: forget it, I'm not doing that.
heresjohnny: you'd rather suck my dick? fine by me
yohjik: If you haven't already come by now.
heresjohnny: are you trying to imply something about my manly prowess?
yohjik: Hope you've got a good grip on that prowess. You can hold it while I lick you.
heresjohnny: more tongue, bitch
yohjik: I'll bite your prowess RIGHT OFF if you call me that again.
heresjohnny: sorry
yohjik: See? It hurts less the second time.
heresjohnny: shut up and suck my dick
yohjik: I am. Got it all in my mouth now, tongue pushing along the bottom.
heresjohnny: fuck
yohjik: That's later. When I turn you over on your stomach and ride you so hard you can't walk tomorrow.
heresjohnny: think you're up to that, huh?
yohjik: I know I am. Just as soon as you come. I'll do it right after, just slick my cock and push in. That's how you like it, right? Rough?
heresjohnny: okay
yohjik: Schuldig?
heresjohnny: what
yohjik: You can fuck my mouth if you want.

Schuldig groaned and grabbed Farfarello's hair. He did fuck his mouth for a couple of strokes, but really he was already there and Farf had been taking him deep anyway, sucking hard. Schuldig sat back in the chair and panted and felt Yohji come, two fingers shoved up his ass, other hand working his cock hard.

There was a pause while they both recovered.

heresjohnny: hot
yohjik: Yeah.
heresjohnny: see you around?
yohjik: Maybe.
heresjohnny: okay
yohjik: Okay.

Yohji signed off first.

Farfarello still had his hand on Schuldig's cock, his cheek on Schuldig's thigh. "Shall I fuck you so hard you can't walk tomorrow?" he asked.

"What the hell. If it'll keep you out of trouble."