"Release," Schuldig/Yohji, Weiss Kreuz
Title: Release
Author: lady_ganesh
Rating: R
Warnings: Coerced sex, or the promise of it at any rate
Pairing: Schuldig/Yohji
Prompt: Damsel in distress scenarios, “If I rescue you, will you wear a dress?”
His wrists hurt.
It was only to be expected, but it still pissed him off. There was a little niggling itch behind the pain, too, and that was even more annoying.
The whole mission had been a trap. It was easy enough to see now, with one of Honda's goons laughing in his face. The guy hit him again, just for good measure Yohji guessed, but there wasn't much heart in it. It still hurt. His arms ached, too, and his knees were sore from the concrete floor.
What the hell were they keeping him for? Why not just kill him and get it over with?
They think you're working for their competition. They want to use you as bait. Mind you, when they find out you're of no use to them... The words came directly into his mind, unbidden, sarcastic, as violent as Honda's goon. The redhead from Schwarz; Schuldig.
"Get away from me," Yohji growled, and the goon punched him in the gut.
Sure you want that, pretty? I might be your best chance of getting out of here.
Oh, sure, Yohji thought angrily. Then you'll just let me go, right?
A pause. I'll let you go eventually. That's more than you'll get with these guys.
I'm not going to tell you anything about--
Laughter in his mind, smooth as honey. You think you have information I need? Don't kid yourself. I get you out of here it's purely for my amusement. Ever worn a dress?
No.
Liar.
It was for work.
Oh, you'll be working. You got the legs for it?
Sure. Yohji had been calculating: no one was expecting to hear from him for another six hours, and he'd deliberately gone off-mission in hopes of finding Honda's hideout. Which he most assuredly had, though not in the way he'd intented. Maybe playing along would keep him alive. And hell, at least these assholes would die in messy and interesting ways.
You got that right, the voice in his head noted with satisfaction. So, you like chiffon?
Get me velvet. Or silk. Nothing but the best.
Pretty demanding for a guy chained to the wall.
I thought maybe you liked 'em demanding. Yohji smirked into the middle distance; who knew where the assassin actually was.
He could almost feel Schuldig smirk back. Maybe you thought right. We'll see.
Honda's head goon screamed and shot the man next to him in the neck. "My wife," he cried out, "you son of a bitch--"
The next ten minutes were like a Takeshi Kitano movie with a really bad ending. Who knew how many secret resentments and betrayals had been lying just below the surface of Honda's excellent operation?
"Me," a voice murmured near his ear. "Want your watch back?"
Yohji nodded as slim, strong fingers slipped under the plastic cord holding his wrists together.
"Don't go anywhere, all right?" Schuldig said, slicing neatly through. "We have a deal." And there was the image in his mind; Yohji looking in the mirror, wearing something thin and silky and cut to accentuate breasts he didn't have. Schuldig leaning behind him, one hand bunched in the champagne-colored fabric, tongue against Yohji's ear. "I'll be back with your watch."
Yohji shuddered, not entirely with fear, and started getting up.
Author: lady_ganesh
Rating: R
Warnings: Coerced sex, or the promise of it at any rate
Pairing: Schuldig/Yohji
Prompt: Damsel in distress scenarios, “If I rescue you, will you wear a dress?”
His wrists hurt.
It was only to be expected, but it still pissed him off. There was a little niggling itch behind the pain, too, and that was even more annoying.
The whole mission had been a trap. It was easy enough to see now, with one of Honda's goons laughing in his face. The guy hit him again, just for good measure Yohji guessed, but there wasn't much heart in it. It still hurt. His arms ached, too, and his knees were sore from the concrete floor.
What the hell were they keeping him for? Why not just kill him and get it over with?
They think you're working for their competition. They want to use you as bait. Mind you, when they find out you're of no use to them... The words came directly into his mind, unbidden, sarcastic, as violent as Honda's goon. The redhead from Schwarz; Schuldig.
"Get away from me," Yohji growled, and the goon punched him in the gut.
Sure you want that, pretty? I might be your best chance of getting out of here.
Oh, sure, Yohji thought angrily. Then you'll just let me go, right?
A pause. I'll let you go eventually. That's more than you'll get with these guys.
I'm not going to tell you anything about--
Laughter in his mind, smooth as honey. You think you have information I need? Don't kid yourself. I get you out of here it's purely for my amusement. Ever worn a dress?
No.
Liar.
It was for work.
Oh, you'll be working. You got the legs for it?
Sure. Yohji had been calculating: no one was expecting to hear from him for another six hours, and he'd deliberately gone off-mission in hopes of finding Honda's hideout. Which he most assuredly had, though not in the way he'd intented. Maybe playing along would keep him alive. And hell, at least these assholes would die in messy and interesting ways.
You got that right, the voice in his head noted with satisfaction. So, you like chiffon?
Get me velvet. Or silk. Nothing but the best.
Pretty demanding for a guy chained to the wall.
I thought maybe you liked 'em demanding. Yohji smirked into the middle distance; who knew where the assassin actually was.
He could almost feel Schuldig smirk back. Maybe you thought right. We'll see.
Honda's head goon screamed and shot the man next to him in the neck. "My wife," he cried out, "you son of a bitch--"
The next ten minutes were like a Takeshi Kitano movie with a really bad ending. Who knew how many secret resentments and betrayals had been lying just below the surface of Honda's excellent operation?
"Me," a voice murmured near his ear. "Want your watch back?"
Yohji nodded as slim, strong fingers slipped under the plastic cord holding his wrists together.
"Don't go anywhere, all right?" Schuldig said, slicing neatly through. "We have a deal." And there was the image in his mind; Yohji looking in the mirror, wearing something thin and silky and cut to accentuate breasts he didn't have. Schuldig leaning behind him, one hand bunched in the champagne-colored fabric, tongue against Yohji's ear. "I'll be back with your watch."
Yohji shuddered, not entirely with fear, and started getting up.