Bandom Double-Drabble: sanctum sanctorum
not really here, still emo and antisocial
***
This double-drabble is for rawkenr0ll. It is entirely lacking in porn (sorry?), but this is where the prompts took me so...
sanctum sanctorum - Bandom - Gabe/Pete - R - warning: bdsm (mental, but see prompts)
Prompts: slavery, storage, cages
Gabe doesn’t know where he’s going until he’s already there, inside Pete’s house, standing in the dark. Around his neck the keychain burns bright cold like a diamond.
His thoughts start and stop and start again; a freeway chaos of directionless need. It’s hard to breathe, flames of panic licking at his throat, and Gabe does what you’re supposed to in a fire: drops to his hands and knees and crawls.
He follows the hallway; burrowing deeper on pure instinct, heart tripping prey-fast in his chest.
When his fingers finally close around the steel bars, the relief is sharp enough to hurt.
Gabe strips blindly, presses himself against metal frame, desperate and seeking. He’s whimpering; small animal noises that stutter and hitch.
The door is open, just like always. Gabe crawls in, clumsy on his belly, elbows and knees banging against the sides. He shuts the door and the quiet snick of the lock is like a sign, a trigger. Everything falls still.
Safe. Gabe is safe now.
He pulls the key carefully over his head, throws it out of reach.
In the morning, Pete finds it waiting for him on the floor; Gabe fast asleep, curled in his cage.
***
This double-drabble is for rawkenr0ll. It is entirely lacking in porn (sorry?), but this is where the prompts took me so...
sanctum sanctorum - Bandom - Gabe/Pete - R - warning: bdsm (mental, but see prompts)
Prompts: slavery, storage, cages
Gabe doesn’t know where he’s going until he’s already there, inside Pete’s house, standing in the dark. Around his neck the keychain burns bright cold like a diamond.
His thoughts start and stop and start again; a freeway chaos of directionless need. It’s hard to breathe, flames of panic licking at his throat, and Gabe does what you’re supposed to in a fire: drops to his hands and knees and crawls.
He follows the hallway; burrowing deeper on pure instinct, heart tripping prey-fast in his chest.
When his fingers finally close around the steel bars, the relief is sharp enough to hurt.
Gabe strips blindly, presses himself against metal frame, desperate and seeking. He’s whimpering; small animal noises that stutter and hitch.
The door is open, just like always. Gabe crawls in, clumsy on his belly, elbows and knees banging against the sides. He shuts the door and the quiet snick of the lock is like a sign, a trigger. Everything falls still.
Safe. Gabe is safe now.
He pulls the key carefully over his head, throws it out of reach.
In the morning, Pete finds it waiting for him on the floor; Gabe fast asleep, curled in his cage.