This is a continuing Weis Kreuz fanfic.-- It involves m/m pairings and BDSM and fetishes. If any of these offend you-- you should probably read something else.
~~ @ ~~ @ ~~ @ ~~
Wrapped in a straitjacket, Farfarello sat hunched in a corner of the room he shared with Ken. It was sparsely furnished with a king-size bed, a large armoire, a closet and a couple of storage chests. There were also hooks and I-bolts located at regular intervals around the walls, ceiling and floor. The owner had decorated it to look like a gothic cathedral with the bed on a pedestal symbolizing an altar. He had been very pleased with the design, although Crawford found it to dramatic. The team leader had finally agreed to let him have furniture and to get rid of the padded walls when he saw that Farfarello was stable with the new medicine supplied by Kritker.
Stable, however, is a relative term when one is discussing levels of sanity. While Farfarello was considered a genius by Estet, he could rarely display his true intelligence because of the irrational manner in which his mind functioned. After Aya's fight with Ken, he had quickly reverted into a psychotic demon. For safety and security of the team and anyone else who crossed his path, he was tranquilized heavily.
Ken sat with him, just holding him. Aya's punch had ripped some stitches, but not inflicted anything more damaging, so Crawford agreed to let him stay with Farfarello. Schuldich knocked on the door and walked in carrying a plate of food. Steak cooked medium rare and cut into slices, potato au gratin and broccoli with hollandaise sauce. "Bon appetite." He said as he put the food down next to Ken. The steak was already cut into bite size pieces.
"American style food?" He looked at Schuldich in puzzlement.
"Yes, Farfarello likes to have Western style meals and he will be waking up soon. Nagi cooked it. Heaven alone knows when he learned how to cook, but he is pretty good at it."
"OK, thanks. I remember master telling me that he preferred western food once. I guess I was surprised that you guys would indulge him." Ken felt awkward confessing to Schuldich.
"Well, in many ways we are more like a dysfunctional family than just a team. To us, Farfarello, is our brother and he needs to feel that he is important to us when he has to be sedated and tranquilized. Despite everything, he needs to understand that we are here for him. Mental illness is difficult for the bearer to deal with alone and support is important. If Farfie didn't have the team, he would still be locked away in some asylum in Ireland, under heavy sedation, barely functioning. If he seems to be feeling more himself after he eats, you can let him go." Schuldich left, shutting the door behind him.
Within a minute of him leaving, Farfarello started to move, weakly struggling in his bonds, trying to wake up. "I'm here master. Are you thirsty?"
The blond frowned lightly as his mind tried to figure out the meaning of the words spoken to him. It took a full minute for him to process the thought and respond. "Yes." He whispered, barely audible. Ken held a glass of ice water and tilted it to allow the other man to drink.
Farfarello sipped at the water cautiously, still trying to piece together his surroundings. "Ken. Are you hurt?" His tone sounded vaguely concerned.
"No master. Some stitches ripped, but it didn't hurt the surgical area." Ken paused, touched by the relief that was apparent on his master's face. "Would you like to eat? It's been about 14 hours since you last had anything and Nagi cooked something special for you."
"That will be fine. I imagine that my body is hungry and I feel empty." He looked at the plate and smiled in delight. "Oh, he made some of my favorites. He always amazes me when he goes through the effort of making something I will like."
"Please let me feed you master." Ken requested. "It would give me great pleasure to assist you and Schuldich said that I wasn't allowed to release you until after you ate."
Farfarello looked thoughtful for a moment, considering the irony of the situation. "I think I might enjoy that actually, just don't make a mess. Too bad you are still not healthy enough to be punished." He smirked as Ken gave him a hesitant smile.
The sporty, former soccer player used a fork to delicately place a piece of meat to his lover's mouth. His gaze never left the faintly pink lips. He continued to feed his bound master, paying special attention to his mouth. A drop of juice clung to the lips he found to be so blatantly seductive. Leaning in, he licked the moisture off with the tip of his tongue. Farfarello's tongue darted out quickly to meet with it and coaxed him into a deep kiss. Ken managed to feed his master in between the sensual kisses, but only because he was afraid that Nagi would be upset if he sent the plate back to the kitchen full of food.
"I've had dinner, now release me." Farfarello ordered softly. "I'm in the mood for something else. I think I have a way to play with you that won't stress your injuries to much." A maniacal light gleamed in his eye.
Ken swallowed, he half feared and half anticipated what Farfarello could be referring to. Anything was possible. He quickly undid the buckles holding the blond into the straitjacket. His master shrugged off the jacket and stretched his arms wide, the joints creaking in protest.