Patrick's Spongy Valentine : SpongeBob x Patrick Star

Finding a Matey

It all started on a quiet morning in Bikini Bottom, as so many events do. The sun glowed blue down on a narrow street strewn with a pineapple, Stonehenge and a sea rock. Underneath that curved sea rock hid the lovable mentally-ill starfish named Patrick Star. He lulled over the static screening of his television, mindlessly drooling his saliva.

This was his way of living. He did this every dawn until dusk, not unless someone or something persuaded him to go outside, such as SpongeBob encouraging him to go jellyfishing or stalking Squidward in the bath, like the naughty nautical neighbors they're labelled. They just love to watch the false lavishness of their neighboring neighbor's daily routines such as wiping his ass with canned bread.

So far, nothing exciting had ever occurred in this very day. SpongeBob unusually remained in his pineapple abode doing God knows what. A faint sound of the sponge's obnoxious moans was all Patrick could garner. Yes, Patrick had a crappy existence in the grand scheme of things.

"How boring...." Patrick mumbled.

Because of his passivity, the starfish's brain will decay again as a result of his television exposure. To tackle this problem, Patrick decided to pleasure himself like any bored individuals would.

He lifted up his massive gut fold, which was an effort to do due to how fat it was. Lifting it up like a tailgate of a car, under it, unveiled the week old rot and decay of his stored dried up sweat and cum residues that managed to sneak down its crevices.

Unfazed, the starfish scooped a handful quantities of that rancid lard-like substances and wiped it all around his pink pointer, applying thick cock makeup until his pinkness faded from the heavy foundation.

Pat jacked himself with the grime like the dirty basement dweller he was. Every stroke, the congealed lube produces mushy sounds akin to moist vaginas stuffed with mashed potatoes, an object the sea star never managed to get his hands on ever in his miserable life - not even SpongeBob's, his closest friend.

"Ugh... Sweet Neptune!" moaned the masturbator. He shed a tear as his crotch coral spat its lust nectar to his face.

But without notice, Patrick's 1999 29 inched Panasonic TV started to function much to his amazement, and the device displayed a familiar restaurant he always loved visiting, The Krusty Krab.

Apparently, the establishment was organizing a Valentine's Day event, As per the heart-shaped balloon around the restaurant's entryway.

Not soon after, Cheapskate scumbag, Mr. Krab just appeared in frame to cater the interviewer.

"We're here with, Owner Mr. Krabs" the interviewing fish said, "Tell me Eugene, what's this hubbub all about... Another one of your corporate schemes, I presume"

Eugene Krabs was a greedy son of a bitch. Every shady ventures he does will always be affiliated with filling up his pockets. One of his infamous shams was pandering with pride month and suppository-shoved Plankton up his crustacean asshole in camera just to show how LGBTQ he was.

Mr. Krabs smiled the public his scurvy'd chompers, "A charity event for every lovebirds here in bikini bottom... Come with yer mate and ya get a free krabby patty!"

"How charitable!" remarked the news fish, "and what compelled you to arrange this event?"

"Money!"

"Uhh you do know, with the majority of our citizens having sexual partners... You're basically handing out all your resources for free till bankruptcy"

Though his smiled remained throughout, Mr. Krabs clearly realized his mistake by the way his eyes bulged, implying he hadn't given it much thought. He faced the camera utterly silent with only his fake smile to show the audience and urine stains building from his krusty crotch.

Then, to end the awkward moment, Krabs suddenly grabbed a gun from his shirt and proceeded to blast his brain full of lead, performing public self-murder on live television.

The nearby masses mistook the businessman's shrapnel of cranium chunks as a ceremonial opening confetti pop and stampeded inside the restaurant.

On the other hand, The surprised newscaster without a doubt ordered to quit rolling the cameras just as Eugene biblically floated up to the surface with a revolver in hand. Following that, the TV returned to its static state.

"Oh boy! Free Krabby Patties!" celebrated the overjoyed Patrick. "But I need to be with someone in order to claim them"

Patrick proceeded to formulate a plan to obtain his prize. Bikini Bottom is a big city. There's plenty of fish in the sea for Patrick to choose. It's up to the asteroidean who will be his bride. Obviously, he has a type, who could it be? Sandy? Mrs. Puff? Karen?

"I know! I'll go out with Squidward!"

For a blockheaded fuck like Patrick, it sure is a surprise to see him conjure a functional plan. Everybody knows Squidward hates Krabby Patties. With having him as his partner, Patrick could voluntarily eat Squidward's share.

The rock that Patrick lived in, opened like a hatch and out came the resident, ambling in a steady lumber to the octopus' Stonehenge abode.

Meanwhile, Squidward was ass inserting anal beads made with bonbons - vanilla flavored... well not anymore, when Patrick intruded through his entrance.

"What the barnacles!" Squid cursed forcefully plucking off his Choco-beads, "Did your mother ever taught you how to knock?"

Patrick waved his greeting and replied, "She did and I knocked her real good, if you catch my drift" while elbowing his neighbor's phallic nose and winking.

Squidward retained his deadpan expression to emphasize that the star's incestual sarcasm had not infiltrated his humor.

"What do you want?" questioned the cephalopod, blaring even more annoyed now.

"How would you like to accompany me for the Krusty Krab Valentines event?"

"Oh Patrick, why I would love to!" Squidward forged an agreement like he actually cares, "Too bad I'm going with Sandy..."

This time, the usually sarcastic octopus wasn't lying; he'd booked himself with the underwater squirrel a seat at the venue. After that, they planned to do basic anatomy lectures. Squidward is gonna place his nose right where they structurally belong, in-between the cheeks...  Them sandy cheeks to be specific.

"What? Noooo!" Patrick crashed both knees on the floor, heartbroken. "Why do you do this me? You don't even like Krabby Patties!"

"You're right... I'm only after the buns... If you know what I mean? Aha aha aha!"

A dreadful rejection like that drove Patrick to lie down in the middle of the road, awaiting for a passing automobile to end his problematic existence. The scenario was supposedly the conclusion, hadn't been for SpongeBob appearing, casting a shadow over Patrick.

"Why the long cock, Pat?" the iconic sponge asked.

Together with jumbles of complaints, Patrick began to recap everything from his unnecessary masturbation to where he was now.

It was no surprise that Patrick earned SpongeBob's pity, as the yellow square had repeatedly demonstrated over the years that he had always been a good friend to him, It had progressed to the point where it was more than just buddy moments. SpongeBob offered himself to be Patrick's Valentino.

"Let's solve this by going together" SpongeBob suggested.

"Like a date?"

"Yeah! I heard gay coupling is widely accepted now!" mentioned the sponge, "Let's just head straight and pose as a couple of Homos, EASY!"

Patrick arduously stood up his fats, "Easy for a closeted crossdressing twink like you..."

"Spot on, Pat! Come on! Just follow my lead!"

And the two went on with a mission in mind.