Weiss Kreuz - slash_me_twice - 029. Guilt - rockstar4
029. Guilt
Notes: RockStar!Weiss fic, part the 4th. Rockstar!Weiss fic inspired by the wonderful Rosalyn_Angel (have I not already said this? For shame!) and her fic Famous (for this challenge). Also, the pic of Weiss in bars, singing their hearts out (this one: http://www.animegalleries.net/img/65387). (and this: http://www.animegalleries.net/img/65354)
*
Some American band is blaring over the speaker downstairs. The music filters into the glassed-in VIP section of the club where Brad Crawford, Schuldig, Jei, and Naoe Nagi are sitting in a circular booth with cream leather seats. Nagi and Jei sit on the inside because Crawford always sits on the outside so he can take phone calls, and Nagi is still underage so Schuldig has to get up to get drinks for both of them. Well, all four of them, really; the bartender is used to seeing Schuldig’s face.
There are a bunch of big names in the club tonight. There was a movie premiere earlier in the evening, and many of the people from the premiere are here now, in Kritiker, relaxing and dancing and getting smashed off their asses where reporters can’t see them. The four of them attended the premiere because it was Akira’s first lead role. He’s off mingling somewhere, Schuldig guesses, because for the past hour he hasn’t been able to get his friend’s attention due to other people getting in the way. Fuckers.
“Schuldig, get me a drink,” Nagi says.
“No,” he says to be ornery.
Nagi sees right through him, of course, because Schuldig always says no and then generally does what you asked anyway. “A shot or something.”
“How ‘bout a blowjob?” Schuldig leers.
Nagi gives Schuldig one of his annoyed-teenager looks. “Why, so you can proposition the bartender?”
Schuldig laughs and ruffles Nagi’s hair. Nagi slaps his hand and tries to fix the damage. “Go get me a cup of sake.”
“Ah, so you knew what you wanted. You just wanted me to get laid tonight, didn’t you?”
Nagi shoves him. “My drink?”
“Pay me.”
“I’ll pay you after. Otherwise you’ll steal my money.”
Schuldig nudges him and winks. “You can spare it.” He’s standing up when Akira bounds over and knocks him back into the seat.
“Shove over,” Akira says excitedly, leaning into the table so Schuldig, Nagi, and Jei can all hear him. “Guess who just got here?”
Jei’s eyes glitter dangerously. The rest of them just give Akira blank looks. “C’mon,” Schuldig says, “it could be anybody.”
Then Nagi is gripping Schuldig’s arm like the devil is pulling on his legs, and Schuldig knows. “Holy fucking shit, is it-” He leans into Akira. “Is it Weiss?”
Akira nods. “The bouncer’s marking them down now. They’ll be up any second.”
Nagi is bouncing and Crawford is looking at him with a bemused expression. “Who is this boy and what has he done with Nagi?” he frowns. The table chitters, and Crawford seems not to understand why they think he’s funny. “I’m serious. Why is this so exciting?”
“Brad, it’s Weiss.”
“So?”
“The group that named itself in honor of Schwarz,” Jei says solemnly, sitting ramrod straight and looking at the door to the stairs.
Crawford laughs. “You’re serious?” His good humor evaporates. “That’s creepy. We should go.”
“I want to meet Omi!” Nagi hisses, and then smiles and turns to Schuldig. “They’re here. Pretend we’re talking.”
Schuldig can’t help but laugh. “Kiddo, we are talking.”
Nagi looks like he wants to beat his head into the table, but is suppressing the urge because he wants to make a good impression. He turns to Akira. “Are they looking?”
Akira looks like he’s going to check, but Schuldig smacks his arm. “Don’t look, they’ll know you’re looking!”
Crawford sighs and gets up. “You’re all pathetic. I’m getting a drink-anyone want something?”
“Crawford, wait!”
Crawford leans over the table and says, “What?” right in Nagi’s face.
Nagi isn’t cowed by his glare in the least. “Sit back down, I have an idea.”
“No.”
But Akira gets up at Schuldig’s hard shove and corrals Crawford back into his seat, then sits next to him so he can’t move.
“This is so juvenile,” Crawford says.
“Your mom is-ok, sorry,” Schuldig says, ducking his head with a grin. “What’s your idea, Nagi?”
Nagi looks around and, apparently seeing that the coast is clear, leans forward with his elbows on the glass-covered black table. “I say we-Schwarz-sing a tribute to Weiss.”
Jei grins. “But Schuldig’s a terrible singer.”
Schuldig glares at him. “Fuck you,” he hisses, “I’m amazing! A warbling cat couldn’t out-sing me!”
A pause, and then the group bursts into laughter. “He has a point,” Crawford says. “Besides, I can’t help you-I don’t know the words to their songs.”
Nagi points to the karaoke machine that’s been sitting unused against the wall by the bar. “They give you the words.”
“I don’t know the tunes.”
Schuldig grins like a shark. “Then I’ll be singing better than someone tonight, won’t I?”
Crawford blanches. “Nagi, I’m not doing this. Akira? Move.”
“But-” Nagi actually looks disappointed, but holds his peace. You don’t argue with Crawford.
Unless you’re Schuldig, that is. “Akira, I have to talk to Crawford.” Akira gets up, and Schuldig drags Crawford out of his seat, past the other tables and dance floor, and into the soundproof men’s bathroom. He doesn’t slam Crawford into a wall, because there’s only so far you can push Crawford before he pushes back harder, but he does block the door back to the lounge.
Crawford, upon being released, straightens his cuffs. “Well?”
“Brad, why can’t you just take one for the team?”
“We’re not a team, Schuldig, we just played one in a movie.”
Schuldig growls in frustration and beats the wall with a fist. “He’s really excited, ok? Can’t you just-be embarrassed for once, to make the kid happy? Look, if you’re really worried, I’ll let you listen to your lines before we go up.” Schuldig rifles through his suit pocket and pulls out an mp3 player and white earphones. “Ok?”
Crawford looks at the player like it’ll bite, but finally capitulates. “Fine,” he grounds out, putting one of the earphones into his ear. He hands the other one to Schuldig. “Which part is mine?”
Schuldig lets out a whoop and hugs Crawford before he can stop himself. He lets go quickly, and Crawford doesn’t even look angry-just resigned. That’s a good sign. “Ok,” Schuldig says, fiddling with the mp3 player and ear phone and leaning back against the wall, “You’ll be Ran, which is good because you sound best anyway.”
*
When they get back to the table, Nagi looks up with so much hope Schuldig is glad he’s not Crawford. “Relax,” Crawford grouses, “I know the part I’m going to sing. But you owe me for this: one drink for each member of that stupid group.”
Schuldig rolls his eyes and slides back into the seat. “Don’t listen to him, kid, he liked it.”
Nagi raises an eyebrow at Crawford. Crawford looks away first, and Nagi grins and nudges Jei. “I win.”
Jei hands Nagi 2000 yen and grins like he didn’t just lose a bet. “You can pay for one of his drinks with that.”
“That’s so unf-” Crawford is glaring at Nagi though, in his dare-you-to-complain voice, and Nagi wisely shuts up.
“Where’s Akira?” Schuldig asks to cover the awkward silence.
“Keeping Weiss entertained.”
Schuldig looks to where Jei is pointing. Akira is steering people toward the music group-subtly, but still noticeable to Schuldig now that he’s looking for it. “Good,” he says. “I’ll go tell the manager to turn off the speakers for us. You take care of the karaoke.”
“I’ll go with you,” Crawford says, and moves to walk beside Schuldig. “I can’t believe you guilted me into this,” he mutters.
Schuldig smirks. “I am the guilty one, after all. But really-the only one who’s going to be embarrassed is me. Suck it up, Bradley.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Ah, that wasn’t part of our little deal. We agreed on sexual favors.”
Crawford looks askance at Schuldig, who gives him an air kiss. Crawford’s jaw grinds.
They find the manager at the door to the stairs checking over the bouncer’s list of VIP guests. Schuldig taps him on the shoulder and says, “A moment of your time, Schuichii?”
Takatori Schuichii immediately hands the list back to bouncer and turns to them with a wide smile. “Brad, hello! And Schuldig, one of my best customers. I understand you’re ordering more drinks than you can handle these days.”
Schuldig grins and points a thumb at Crawford. “He’s too lazy to get his own. American thing, I think.”
Schuchii laughs. Crawford shakes his head, but is smiling. They’re all old friends. “So,” Schuichii says, “What can I do for you?”
Schuldig leans in. “See, it was all the kid’s idea…”
*
The music in the VIP lounge is slowly turned down. The dance floor clears, revealing Crawford, Schuldig, Farfarello, and Nagi standing on the karaoke stage like they were born to be there. Schuldig smirks and steps forward from the line, mic in hand. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. My friends and I have decided to perform a tribute to a group of people we all admire.”
Their captive audience chuckles. Someone-probably Akira-whistles. Schuldig turns to the sound and winks. More whistles sound, and this time Schuldig laughs. “Come talk to me after, guys. Anyway, we’re not going to form a cover band of this group-I’m a shitty singer, I’m warning you now-”
The audience laughs, and Schuldig turns to catch Jei nodding solemnly. Schuldig sticks his tongue out at Jei and then faces forward. “But this isn’t about being good. It’s about showing our thanks. Our appreciation. A different side of ourselves, if you will, from what you have previously seen.”
The opening bars of ‘Velvet Underground’ sound over the lounge loudspeaker, and the audience goes wild.
“For the duration of this song,” Schuldig finishes gravely, stepping back into the line, “we are Weiss.”
Notes: RockStar!Weiss fic, part the 4th. Rockstar!Weiss fic inspired by the wonderful Rosalyn_Angel (have I not already said this? For shame!) and her fic Famous (for this challenge). Also, the pic of Weiss in bars, singing their hearts out (this one: http://www.animegalleries.net/img/65387). (and this: http://www.animegalleries.net/img/65354)
*
Some American band is blaring over the speaker downstairs. The music filters into the glassed-in VIP section of the club where Brad Crawford, Schuldig, Jei, and Naoe Nagi are sitting in a circular booth with cream leather seats. Nagi and Jei sit on the inside because Crawford always sits on the outside so he can take phone calls, and Nagi is still underage so Schuldig has to get up to get drinks for both of them. Well, all four of them, really; the bartender is used to seeing Schuldig’s face.
There are a bunch of big names in the club tonight. There was a movie premiere earlier in the evening, and many of the people from the premiere are here now, in Kritiker, relaxing and dancing and getting smashed off their asses where reporters can’t see them. The four of them attended the premiere because it was Akira’s first lead role. He’s off mingling somewhere, Schuldig guesses, because for the past hour he hasn’t been able to get his friend’s attention due to other people getting in the way. Fuckers.
“Schuldig, get me a drink,” Nagi says.
“No,” he says to be ornery.
Nagi sees right through him, of course, because Schuldig always says no and then generally does what you asked anyway. “A shot or something.”
“How ‘bout a blowjob?” Schuldig leers.
Nagi gives Schuldig one of his annoyed-teenager looks. “Why, so you can proposition the bartender?”
Schuldig laughs and ruffles Nagi’s hair. Nagi slaps his hand and tries to fix the damage. “Go get me a cup of sake.”
“Ah, so you knew what you wanted. You just wanted me to get laid tonight, didn’t you?”
Nagi shoves him. “My drink?”
“Pay me.”
“I’ll pay you after. Otherwise you’ll steal my money.”
Schuldig nudges him and winks. “You can spare it.” He’s standing up when Akira bounds over and knocks him back into the seat.
“Shove over,” Akira says excitedly, leaning into the table so Schuldig, Nagi, and Jei can all hear him. “Guess who just got here?”
Jei’s eyes glitter dangerously. The rest of them just give Akira blank looks. “C’mon,” Schuldig says, “it could be anybody.”
Then Nagi is gripping Schuldig’s arm like the devil is pulling on his legs, and Schuldig knows. “Holy fucking shit, is it-” He leans into Akira. “Is it Weiss?”
Akira nods. “The bouncer’s marking them down now. They’ll be up any second.”
Nagi is bouncing and Crawford is looking at him with a bemused expression. “Who is this boy and what has he done with Nagi?” he frowns. The table chitters, and Crawford seems not to understand why they think he’s funny. “I’m serious. Why is this so exciting?”
“Brad, it’s Weiss.”
“So?”
“The group that named itself in honor of Schwarz,” Jei says solemnly, sitting ramrod straight and looking at the door to the stairs.
Crawford laughs. “You’re serious?” His good humor evaporates. “That’s creepy. We should go.”
“I want to meet Omi!” Nagi hisses, and then smiles and turns to Schuldig. “They’re here. Pretend we’re talking.”
Schuldig can’t help but laugh. “Kiddo, we are talking.”
Nagi looks like he wants to beat his head into the table, but is suppressing the urge because he wants to make a good impression. He turns to Akira. “Are they looking?”
Akira looks like he’s going to check, but Schuldig smacks his arm. “Don’t look, they’ll know you’re looking!”
Crawford sighs and gets up. “You’re all pathetic. I’m getting a drink-anyone want something?”
“Crawford, wait!”
Crawford leans over the table and says, “What?” right in Nagi’s face.
Nagi isn’t cowed by his glare in the least. “Sit back down, I have an idea.”
“No.”
But Akira gets up at Schuldig’s hard shove and corrals Crawford back into his seat, then sits next to him so he can’t move.
“This is so juvenile,” Crawford says.
“Your mom is-ok, sorry,” Schuldig says, ducking his head with a grin. “What’s your idea, Nagi?”
Nagi looks around and, apparently seeing that the coast is clear, leans forward with his elbows on the glass-covered black table. “I say we-Schwarz-sing a tribute to Weiss.”
Jei grins. “But Schuldig’s a terrible singer.”
Schuldig glares at him. “Fuck you,” he hisses, “I’m amazing! A warbling cat couldn’t out-sing me!”
A pause, and then the group bursts into laughter. “He has a point,” Crawford says. “Besides, I can’t help you-I don’t know the words to their songs.”
Nagi points to the karaoke machine that’s been sitting unused against the wall by the bar. “They give you the words.”
“I don’t know the tunes.”
Schuldig grins like a shark. “Then I’ll be singing better than someone tonight, won’t I?”
Crawford blanches. “Nagi, I’m not doing this. Akira? Move.”
“But-” Nagi actually looks disappointed, but holds his peace. You don’t argue with Crawford.
Unless you’re Schuldig, that is. “Akira, I have to talk to Crawford.” Akira gets up, and Schuldig drags Crawford out of his seat, past the other tables and dance floor, and into the soundproof men’s bathroom. He doesn’t slam Crawford into a wall, because there’s only so far you can push Crawford before he pushes back harder, but he does block the door back to the lounge.
Crawford, upon being released, straightens his cuffs. “Well?”
“Brad, why can’t you just take one for the team?”
“We’re not a team, Schuldig, we just played one in a movie.”
Schuldig growls in frustration and beats the wall with a fist. “He’s really excited, ok? Can’t you just-be embarrassed for once, to make the kid happy? Look, if you’re really worried, I’ll let you listen to your lines before we go up.” Schuldig rifles through his suit pocket and pulls out an mp3 player and white earphones. “Ok?”
Crawford looks at the player like it’ll bite, but finally capitulates. “Fine,” he grounds out, putting one of the earphones into his ear. He hands the other one to Schuldig. “Which part is mine?”
Schuldig lets out a whoop and hugs Crawford before he can stop himself. He lets go quickly, and Crawford doesn’t even look angry-just resigned. That’s a good sign. “Ok,” Schuldig says, fiddling with the mp3 player and ear phone and leaning back against the wall, “You’ll be Ran, which is good because you sound best anyway.”
*
When they get back to the table, Nagi looks up with so much hope Schuldig is glad he’s not Crawford. “Relax,” Crawford grouses, “I know the part I’m going to sing. But you owe me for this: one drink for each member of that stupid group.”
Schuldig rolls his eyes and slides back into the seat. “Don’t listen to him, kid, he liked it.”
Nagi raises an eyebrow at Crawford. Crawford looks away first, and Nagi grins and nudges Jei. “I win.”
Jei hands Nagi 2000 yen and grins like he didn’t just lose a bet. “You can pay for one of his drinks with that.”
“That’s so unf-” Crawford is glaring at Nagi though, in his dare-you-to-complain voice, and Nagi wisely shuts up.
“Where’s Akira?” Schuldig asks to cover the awkward silence.
“Keeping Weiss entertained.”
Schuldig looks to where Jei is pointing. Akira is steering people toward the music group-subtly, but still noticeable to Schuldig now that he’s looking for it. “Good,” he says. “I’ll go tell the manager to turn off the speakers for us. You take care of the karaoke.”
“I’ll go with you,” Crawford says, and moves to walk beside Schuldig. “I can’t believe you guilted me into this,” he mutters.
Schuldig smirks. “I am the guilty one, after all. But really-the only one who’s going to be embarrassed is me. Suck it up, Bradley.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Ah, that wasn’t part of our little deal. We agreed on sexual favors.”
Crawford looks askance at Schuldig, who gives him an air kiss. Crawford’s jaw grinds.
They find the manager at the door to the stairs checking over the bouncer’s list of VIP guests. Schuldig taps him on the shoulder and says, “A moment of your time, Schuichii?”
Takatori Schuichii immediately hands the list back to bouncer and turns to them with a wide smile. “Brad, hello! And Schuldig, one of my best customers. I understand you’re ordering more drinks than you can handle these days.”
Schuldig grins and points a thumb at Crawford. “He’s too lazy to get his own. American thing, I think.”
Schuchii laughs. Crawford shakes his head, but is smiling. They’re all old friends. “So,” Schuichii says, “What can I do for you?”
Schuldig leans in. “See, it was all the kid’s idea…”
*
The music in the VIP lounge is slowly turned down. The dance floor clears, revealing Crawford, Schuldig, Farfarello, and Nagi standing on the karaoke stage like they were born to be there. Schuldig smirks and steps forward from the line, mic in hand. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. My friends and I have decided to perform a tribute to a group of people we all admire.”
Their captive audience chuckles. Someone-probably Akira-whistles. Schuldig turns to the sound and winks. More whistles sound, and this time Schuldig laughs. “Come talk to me after, guys. Anyway, we’re not going to form a cover band of this group-I’m a shitty singer, I’m warning you now-”
The audience laughs, and Schuldig turns to catch Jei nodding solemnly. Schuldig sticks his tongue out at Jei and then faces forward. “But this isn’t about being good. It’s about showing our thanks. Our appreciation. A different side of ourselves, if you will, from what you have previously seen.”
The opening bars of ‘Velvet Underground’ sound over the lounge loudspeaker, and the audience goes wild.
“For the duration of this song,” Schuldig finishes gravely, stepping back into the line, “we are Weiss.”