*sigh* I know, I know, DVG already has two other stories in
progress... But I just couldn't help myself!! I was in a dark
mood and started writing this, so I'm getting it all out of my
system now, then I'll be free to finish 'Sweet Revenge' and
'Imaginary' without being distracted. ^_^
Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Gundam Wing, they
belong to the rich Japanese guys who do own them! ^_^ I'm just a
mere fan exercising her morbid writing abilities. I also don't
own 'Change' by Deftones, 'Sex Type Thing' by Stone Temple
Pilots, 'Inside You' by Stabbing Westward, or 'Price to Play' by
StainD.
Warning: AU-ish, *major* angst, psychological trauma, bishie
torture, future NCS, lemon/lime, yaoi, S&M
inclinations...*sweatdrop* did I mention that this was a dark
fic? (Bet you figured it out by the song choices in the
disclaimer...)
Pairing: 2x5
Fatal Asphyxiation
_________________________________________________________________
______________
***
Wufei sat curled up in a tiny ball in the faded armchair alone,
engulfed in the darkness of the silent safe house, his mind and
body broken beyond repair as he shuddered in his painful
thoughts.
He was free, for now, from the Hell that lay sleeping in the
bedroom down the cold hallway, the Hell that had been the one to
break him so far past repair, the Hell he knew he could never
escape...
And didn't want to.
As far gone as he was, how broken he was, how much agony he was
living in, no matter how much he despised it, he also craved
more.
Like a drug, it was intoxicating once the pain was past
recognition.
It was addicting.
He could sit here all he wanted to, repeating in his tormented
mind that he should run while he now had the chance as the hell
slept, but it was like the thoughts that a drug addict would
think.
'One last fix, that's it, I can't take any more of the
torture...'
The one last fix would become another, and another, again and
again, the vow made while suffering the harsh withdrawal to
leave it all behind forgotten as he got lost in the exhilarating
high.
But this was no drug.
No, it was a living human being he would have never considered
to wield such power with just one subtle glance, a brush of
feather light fingertips over his bare skin, a whispered breath
full of lust playing into his ear promising infinite pleasure at
the expense of great pain.
Chang Wufei remembered when it began, when the Hell came through
the front door.
He had been the proud, justice-pursuing Gundam pilot then; not
the bruised, battered shell of a teenager that sat curled up in
the darkness, crying like a scolded child...
***
progress... But I just couldn't help myself!! I was in a dark
mood and started writing this, so I'm getting it all out of my
system now, then I'll be free to finish 'Sweet Revenge' and
'Imaginary' without being distracted. ^_^
Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Gundam Wing, they
belong to the rich Japanese guys who do own them! ^_^ I'm just a
mere fan exercising her morbid writing abilities. I also don't
own 'Change' by Deftones, 'Sex Type Thing' by Stone Temple
Pilots, 'Inside You' by Stabbing Westward, or 'Price to Play' by
StainD.
Warning: AU-ish, *major* angst, psychological trauma, bishie
torture, future NCS, lemon/lime, yaoi, S&M
inclinations...*sweatdrop* did I mention that this was a dark
fic? (Bet you figured it out by the song choices in the
disclaimer...)
Pairing: 2x5
Fatal Asphyxiation
_________________________________________________________________
______________
***
Wufei sat curled up in a tiny ball in the faded armchair alone,
engulfed in the darkness of the silent safe house, his mind and
body broken beyond repair as he shuddered in his painful
thoughts.
He was free, for now, from the Hell that lay sleeping in the
bedroom down the cold hallway, the Hell that had been the one to
break him so far past repair, the Hell he knew he could never
escape...
And didn't want to.
As far gone as he was, how broken he was, how much agony he was
living in, no matter how much he despised it, he also craved
more.
Like a drug, it was intoxicating once the pain was past
recognition.
It was addicting.
He could sit here all he wanted to, repeating in his tormented
mind that he should run while he now had the chance as the hell
slept, but it was like the thoughts that a drug addict would
think.
'One last fix, that's it, I can't take any more of the
torture...'
The one last fix would become another, and another, again and
again, the vow made while suffering the harsh withdrawal to
leave it all behind forgotten as he got lost in the exhilarating
high.
But this was no drug.
No, it was a living human being he would have never considered
to wield such power with just one subtle glance, a brush of
feather light fingertips over his bare skin, a whispered breath
full of lust playing into his ear promising infinite pleasure at
the expense of great pain.
Chang Wufei remembered when it began, when the Hell came through
the front door.
He had been the proud, justice-pursuing Gundam pilot then; not
the bruised, battered shell of a teenager that sat curled up in
the darkness, crying like a scolded child...
***