Halrloprillalar (prillalar) wrote,

WIP Amnesty - GW FIC: The Red Cord, 13x5

I used to have a Treize/Wufei desktop picture at work and I would stare and stare and stare at Treize's boots and think thoughts that should not be thought in the workplace.

This is a WIP from Jan 2004, which I never finished because I had so many challenge stories to do that it was probably April before I had time to get back to it and by then I'd lost momentum. This is, and I refuse to blush, slave fic, probably the greatest 13x5 cliché ever, which I well knew when I started it.

But nobody gets called Dragon and there is no falling in love. It was supposed to be about honour and respect and submission. (Really, it was just an excuse to write slave sex. I'm only sorry I didn't get to the scene where Wufei has to kneel on the floor all night and watch Treize and Zechs make love.)

This is a complete scene so it's readable. Possibly even sexy.

The Red Cord (unfinished) by Halrloprillalar
Gundam Wing, 13x5, NC17, 1300 words.
Alternate history. Non-consensual. Cliché, florid, and gratuitous. I do not apologize.

When Wufei came into the room, Treize was cutting a pear into wafers so thin they were almost transparent, slowly eating each slice as it fell from the knife.

Wufei stood and waited, trying to quiet the turmoil within him, trying to ignore the cold that twisted through his gut. Not until Treize had finished eating did he turn to look at Wufei.

"Come here," Treize said.

It felt to Wufei as though he were wading through a swift-moving river, pushing against the current. He could feel Treize's eyes on him as he walked across the room. They had dressed Wufei only in thin white pants and left his hair loose on his shoulders. Wufei couldn't tell if Treize was pleased by this or not.

"Kneel," Treize said and leaned forward in his chair.

Wufei sank down. They had bound his hands behind his back with a red silk cord and it made him feel awkward and off-balance. The floor was laid with marble tiles and already Wufei's knees were aching.

"I won't give you information," Wufei said, looking up. He hoped, although he knew better, that this was to be an interrogation, that Treize wanted Wufei for his knowledge of the Gundams and their plans. He could withstand torture; pain was something he could still fight against.

Treize stood and walked around behind Wufei. Treize was wearing a heavy silk dressing gown and it rustled as he moved. "You will not speak to me unless I first give you permission. While you are in my presence, you will not speak to anyone else." His voice was soft, but it raised the hairs on the back of Wufei's neck. "You will kneel unless I order you otherwise."

Wufei swallowed and clenched his jaw. His hands were loosely tied and it would only take a moment to free them.

"You will come when you are summoned, you will leave when you are dismissed." Treize's dressing gown brushed Wufei's shoulder as he moved back to his chair. "You will obey when you are ordered."

The knife was there on a plate, blade sticky with juice, only an armslength away. Wufei could feel the handle in his hand, could see the blade flash as he struck.

"Like all my chattels, you are here for my service and my pleasure." Treize spoke gently, as though Wufei were a favoured child. Wufei bowed his head, but Treize took his chin and forced him to look up. "You are mine," Treize said, "to do with as I please." He ran his finger over the cut on Wufei's cheek and Wufei knew that he could not break his bonds, he could not take the knife.

He had already submitted.

He could still feel the torment of his defeat: the rapier at his throat, the crushing knowledge that he had failed. "Kill me," he had said, looking up into Treize's eyes just as he did now. But the blade flicked up to slash his cheek instead.

"Your life is mine," Treize said. "I do not choose to waste it." He lowered his sword and left Wufei there, blood running down his face, until guards came to take him away.

And Wufei let them. Treize was the victor and it was for him to choose Wufei's fate.

For three days, Wufei sat in a dark room, too filled with shame to light the lamp they had provided. And then they came to bring him to Treize.

They had to make him ready first, they said. It took a long time. They poked and prodded him, they took his blood, they bathed and purged him. All the while, a vice around Wufei's heart slowly tightened. But it wasn't until he felt the cold smear pushed up inside of him that he knew what Treize wanted of him.

Now he knelt before Treize on a stone floor and shuddered at the warmth of Treize's hand on his face, dreading the humiliation that was to come.

Treize stroked Wufei's hair, once, twice, then over and over. His hand was heavy on Wufei's head and he was smiling. "Rise," he said, and Wufei rose. Treize pulled him in to stand between his knees. He touched Wufei here and there: the inside of his elbow, the hollow in his breastbone, the small of his back. His thigh pressed against Wufei's, naked skin against the cotton.

Blood rushed to Wufei's face. Such intimacy was hard to bear at any time, but this was all but intolerable. His skin crawled and his stomach churned.

Treize leaned in until Wufei could feel warm breath on his cheek. "You will not touch yourself, even when you are alone," Treize whispered. He stroked his thumb over Wufei's mouth. "You will take pleasure only in my pleasure now."

Then take your pleasure and be done with it, Wufei thought. It must have showed in his face because Treize smiled and pushed Wufei away from him. "Patience," he said and waved for Wufei to kneel again. Then he picked up a peach and took off the skin in long, thin strips. He cut it into six wedges, pulled them away from the pit. The ripe smell filled the air and made Wufei's mouth water. Treize ate each wedge carefully, not allowing a drop of juice to fall. Wufei's knees began ache again and his arms were cramped and stiff.

When Treize had wiped his hands and face, he stood. "Stand there, by the desk," he told Wufei and bent him over until Wufei's cheek pressed against the wood. Treize ran his hand down Wufei's spine, then over his wrists.

Every one of Wufei's muscles, his tendons, his nerves, was stretched and strained. Somewhere deep inside him was a winch that slowly turned, pulling them tighter and tighter. He felt his pants loosen on his hips, then fall away. Treize stroked his flank and pushed at Wufei's calf with his bare foot. Wufei spread his legs until Treize seemed satisfied, then closed his eyes and waited.

Wufei gasped when Treize entered him. It hurt, a dilating, invasive pain, as if to let him know there are some barriers that should not be crossed. But already Wufei knew that and there was nothing he could do but bite his tongue and wait while Treize moved inside him, opening him again and again. Tears of anger and shame sprang to his eyes and he blinked them back, determined that Treize would not see his weakness.

Then Treize spent, hand pressing down on Wufei's back, hips rocked in to fill him deep, and Wufei's defeat was total. Wufei couldn't stop himself from shaking and he sucked air in through his mouth.

Treize pulled away. Wufei didn't move, just remained there splayed over the desk, and tried to erase the emotion from his face. After a moment, he felt his pants slipped up his thighs and Treize's hand on the back of his neck, caressing and soft.

"You are dismissed," Treize said, and stepped back. When Wufei turned around, Treize was back in his chair, choosing another piece of fruit. He didn't look at Wufei.

Wufei didn't know how he was to open the door, but as he approached a servant let him out. They had not got far down the hall before Wufei turned and was sick into a large vase. He thought he would be punished, but the servant just unbound his hands and took him back to his room.

Wufei didn't light the lamp.


ETA: Hoshikuzu no Senshi-tachi, Treize's image song. Lyrics and translation. Treize is my favourite voice of Okiayu's characters. So smooth.
Tags: 13x5, fic, gundam wing
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