Sheraton Academy: All Grown Up

We're Gonna Wreck It!

Rated: PG. Warnings: swearing, mentions of past abuse, violence against inanimate objects, drug mention (past use)

Christian and Livia stood with their arms crossed in challenge in front of the door to the rage room. It was unassuming, placed right in the middle of a concrete wall, just a basic door with nothing special about it.

They were both geared up already, in the specialty masks and suits provided by the facility. Originally they had considered each having their own time, but eventually, with the insistence of the staff, had reconsidered and decided to go in together. They'd shelled out the extra for more substantial things to smash, like chairs and printers and tables, and they were ready to go.

Christian entered the room first, as he always did when it was just him and Livia. It was a residual habit they no longer needed from back when Livia's father would surprise him with abusive visits. But it made Christian feel better, so Livia allowed it.

Livia closed the door behind him and grinned brightly at the pristine room. He'd never really gotten the chance to let out his anger at... at everything, at his father and his illness and his drug addiction, and even though all of those things had been resolved now, he still held onto the residual stress. This was going to be awesome.

Yeah, Christian had an anger problem, but Livia wasn't afraid. He knew his fiancé would never turn that anger on him. He was safe.

He nudged the picture frame on the table with the end of his baseball bat.

"We really get to break all this shit?" he asked, almost in awe.

"Yeah," Christian said. They both paused again, almost unable to let go after so many years of bottling up their stress.

Then Christian slammed the baseball bat down on the picture frame, smashing it nearly in half.

"Holy shit!" Livia laughed.

"Yes!" Christian shouted.

"Yeah!" Livia cried. "Let's wreck this shit!"

They swung and smashed and threw things against the wall. They shattered wine glasses and splintered chairs and tables and smashed a printer into oblivion. Livia went postal on a particularly offensive chair, smashing it into firewood, and Christian turned around from his printer, now in pieces, to see how his fiancé was doing.

He froze. Livia had dropped the bat and picked up what was left of the chair, smashing it into and throwing it against the wall over and over. "Fuck you, chair!" he screamed. "Fuck you especially!"

Christian just watched, his baseball bat still gripped tightly in his fist but no longer swinging. When Livia finally broke off the last leg and snapped the seat of the wooden chair in half, he threw it to the ground and kicked it to the side. His breath came in heaving gasps from the exertion, and for a long moment, the two men just stood there, Christian watching Livia, Livia glaring at the offending chair.

They couldn't take their masks off in here – Christian didn't know if there was a camera or someone watching and didn't want to risk getting kicked out and losing the rest of their time – so he wrapped his arm around Livia's shoulders and bent down to gently knock his forehead against the shorter man's.

"I fucking love you," Christian murmured. "And I'd kiss you right now if I could."

"Oh, we're totally going to snog each other stupid later," Livia laughed.

Christian grinned. "Hell yes."