Shounentachi fic
Spotted an excuse to write messed up Shounentachi fic on the last fic meme. I.. uh, don't know how succesful I was. Everything here is pretty much based on flailinginlove's report and stage photos ♥ Prisoner 17 is Hasshi, btw.
Title: Close to courage
Characters: Sanazawa, mentions of Hasshi.
Rating: R for violence and ~*~implied~*~ sex.
Warnings: Top3 being very disturbed young men. Based on the Shounentachi play~
Nozawa sits in the dark, undressed to the waist, perched on a bench in the guards’ changing room. He listens. The ugly sound of flesh hitting flesh, of bones crunching. Screams - though no one screams for help here, not anymore. It’s a mortal sound, something from the soul. Agony and anger. The changing room is deserted. Everyone knows. After Sanada’s really messed up one of the prisoners, he usually wants to fuck Nozawa into the wall. Nozawa pulls his knees up to his chest so his bare feet are off the cold tiles. Somewhere a whip cracks.
“Whose blood is that?”
Sanada coughs out a short laugh. Nozawa does too. Stupid question really.
“Number 17,” Sanada murmurs, smearing some of Hashomoto’s blood from his knuckle onto Nozawa’s cheek and licking it off, “You’ll want to see him tomorrow.”
Nozawa trembles. It’s not compassion - although he used to like to pretend it was. It’s a jeer. Sanada’s making fun of him. Nozawa’s sure he deserves it.
Sometimes, Sanada comes for him at night. He clamps a hand over Nozawa’s mouth as he drags him from the dorms to the showers. It doesn’t matter who knows what he does to the prisoners. However, what he does to Nozawa is supposed to be secret, apparently. It makes Nozawa laugh. Then Sanada slaps him and throws him down to make him shut up.
Sometimes, Nozawa resists. He kicks and scratches and calls Sanada every name under the Sun. So Sanada pulls his hair and tears his clothes, holds him down and finally shuts him up with a rough kiss. It feels like foreplay, almost.
Fukazawa wanders over to the spot in the yard where Nozawa is having lunch.
“You could stop him, you know?” he comments, absentmindedly watching the prisoners exercising.
Nozawa wants to punch him.
“And how am I supposed to do that?” he mutters, putting his bento away. Suddenly, he doesn’t have an appetite.
Fukazawa tsks.
“He almost likes you. You could get through to him.”
“That’s not true and you know it,” Nozawa hisses, already stalking off to be alone.
Standing under a hot shower, Nozawa tenderly fingers the bruises on his ribs and legs. Sanada’s stronger than him. Sanada’s got more power than him. Sanada was his friend long before this placed changed them and Sanada knows just about all of Nozawa’s secrets. All excuses. They stand for shit, Nozawa thinks, poking one of his bruises to make it hurt. He likes it. He must do. He likes the way Sanada holds him and hits him and fucks him. He likes being marked. He likes the feel of Sanada’s nails in his scalp when he’s fucking Nozawa’s mouth. He must do, or why would he put up with it?
Nozawa hears someone enter the shower room. Footsteps padding across the floor and clothes being slipped off. Sanada slides open his stall door and steps in. He’s already stiff. He kisses Nozawa so hard it feels like a punishment. When Nozawa tugs fistfuls of his hair, Sanada growls - it’s practically a purr - and pins Nozawa’s wrists to the wall. There’s blood on his hands. Now it’s on Nozawa’s hands too.
“What did you do to him?”
Sanada bites on Nozawa’s neck, making him whimper.
“He wanted to watch.” He looks up at Nozawa with a smirk and digs his nails into the younger man’s wrists as he sweetly asks, “Should I have let him?”
Nozawa’s whole body starts to shake.
“Sure,” he manages, with a smile, “It gets boring with just you.”
Sanada lets go of Nozawa’s wrists and shoves him down to his knees.
“You want me to do to you what I did to him?”
Nozawa grins. He thinks the water must be turning cold, he feels cold all over.
“Hah. You think I’m as weak as them?” It comes out in a whisper. Nozawa closes his eyes. He waits for Sanada to smack his head into the wall.
Title: Close to courage
Characters: Sanazawa, mentions of Hasshi.
Rating: R for violence and ~*~implied~*~ sex.
Warnings: Top3 being very disturbed young men. Based on the Shounentachi play~
Nozawa sits in the dark, undressed to the waist, perched on a bench in the guards’ changing room. He listens. The ugly sound of flesh hitting flesh, of bones crunching. Screams - though no one screams for help here, not anymore. It’s a mortal sound, something from the soul. Agony and anger. The changing room is deserted. Everyone knows. After Sanada’s really messed up one of the prisoners, he usually wants to fuck Nozawa into the wall. Nozawa pulls his knees up to his chest so his bare feet are off the cold tiles. Somewhere a whip cracks.
“Whose blood is that?”
Sanada coughs out a short laugh. Nozawa does too. Stupid question really.
“Number 17,” Sanada murmurs, smearing some of Hashomoto’s blood from his knuckle onto Nozawa’s cheek and licking it off, “You’ll want to see him tomorrow.”
Nozawa trembles. It’s not compassion - although he used to like to pretend it was. It’s a jeer. Sanada’s making fun of him. Nozawa’s sure he deserves it.
Sometimes, Sanada comes for him at night. He clamps a hand over Nozawa’s mouth as he drags him from the dorms to the showers. It doesn’t matter who knows what he does to the prisoners. However, what he does to Nozawa is supposed to be secret, apparently. It makes Nozawa laugh. Then Sanada slaps him and throws him down to make him shut up.
Sometimes, Nozawa resists. He kicks and scratches and calls Sanada every name under the Sun. So Sanada pulls his hair and tears his clothes, holds him down and finally shuts him up with a rough kiss. It feels like foreplay, almost.
Fukazawa wanders over to the spot in the yard where Nozawa is having lunch.
“You could stop him, you know?” he comments, absentmindedly watching the prisoners exercising.
Nozawa wants to punch him.
“And how am I supposed to do that?” he mutters, putting his bento away. Suddenly, he doesn’t have an appetite.
Fukazawa tsks.
“He almost likes you. You could get through to him.”
“That’s not true and you know it,” Nozawa hisses, already stalking off to be alone.
Standing under a hot shower, Nozawa tenderly fingers the bruises on his ribs and legs. Sanada’s stronger than him. Sanada’s got more power than him. Sanada was his friend long before this placed changed them and Sanada knows just about all of Nozawa’s secrets. All excuses. They stand for shit, Nozawa thinks, poking one of his bruises to make it hurt. He likes it. He must do. He likes the way Sanada holds him and hits him and fucks him. He likes being marked. He likes the feel of Sanada’s nails in his scalp when he’s fucking Nozawa’s mouth. He must do, or why would he put up with it?
Nozawa hears someone enter the shower room. Footsteps padding across the floor and clothes being slipped off. Sanada slides open his stall door and steps in. He’s already stiff. He kisses Nozawa so hard it feels like a punishment. When Nozawa tugs fistfuls of his hair, Sanada growls - it’s practically a purr - and pins Nozawa’s wrists to the wall. There’s blood on his hands. Now it’s on Nozawa’s hands too.
“What did you do to him?”
Sanada bites on Nozawa’s neck, making him whimper.
“He wanted to watch.” He looks up at Nozawa with a smirk and digs his nails into the younger man’s wrists as he sweetly asks, “Should I have let him?”
Nozawa’s whole body starts to shake.
“Sure,” he manages, with a smile, “It gets boring with just you.”
Sanada lets go of Nozawa’s wrists and shoves him down to his knees.
“You want me to do to you what I did to him?”
Nozawa grins. He thinks the water must be turning cold, he feels cold all over.
“Hah. You think I’m as weak as them?” It comes out in a whisper. Nozawa closes his eyes. He waits for Sanada to smack his head into the wall.