Henry Bowers X Patrick Hockstetter

Vulnerable [1/2]

[Third Person POV]

Patrick lay quietly in his bed, humming as he played with the hair of the other who lay on his chest asleep. He'd thoughtfully twirl a piece of his hair on his finger, stirring the smaller awake as it would get annoying. Even for someone in slumber.

"Pat, stop," he'd groan. But, Patrick would refuse to listen. He loved teasing him, why stop now? There was then a soft hand on his own which he pulled away from, receiving another groan. "Patrick."

"Come on, Hen. Let's do somethin'!"

"I'd prefer not to," Henry huffed as he lowered his hand and shuffled himself into a better position on the other's chest.

Patrick rolled his eyes. "How come?"

"Because I don't want to."

Patrick sighed but rolled over so he was on top of Henry. The other would groan in response.

"Dick boy, I said I'm not in the mood."

"And I'm not doing anything,"Patrick would giggle before arising from the bed. "I'm gonna go find something to do."

Henry watched before rolling his eyes. "What like kill somethin' in your stupid fridge?"

That made Patrick stop. He'd look back at the other, his eyes easy set on him. Then, he spoke once more. "Why do you ask?"

"Its what you do. Fuckin' psycho. Obviously." His voice would draw with a yawn as he stretched out. His attention however would fail to falter under Patrick's eyes guiding themselves along his body whilst he moved closer. "And it's not like the losers are gonna be out. It's cold outside. Rainin'."

Only then would Patrick propose something new.
"Then let's do something here."

"Like what," Henry huffed. He still had his hands strung above his head, letting his shirt ever so slightly rise above his belt line. That received a soft hand sliding just under against his skin which made Henry jolt and move away. He'd sat up to stare at Patrick, whom would sit on the opposing side of the bed. Then, his attention focused into an irritated glare. "What are you doing?"

"You got somethin' in mind now?"

"No but don't touch me, damn."

Patrick shrugged, stretching his arms out infront of himself before slowly resting them in his lap. He glanced at the other again who would sit there awkwardly quiet. "You still bored?"

He'd groan before getting up. "Whatever dick boy. Fuck off somewhere else, I'm going home."

"To your dad?"

Henry hesitated then. He sighed and sat down. "No."

Patrick crawled over then and leaned closer, nuzzling his face into the other's neck, taking in a deep breath. He longed for the other's smell but only received Henry moving away while he tensed. Patrick would smile. "What?"

At that, Henry would get up once again only to be followed by the other and shoved to the ground on his stomach. He groaned but wriggled angrily. "What the hell, man!"

Patrick would shush him before sliding his hands down to his belt and undoing it, sliding it from the loops along his waist. Henry in return would try to arise once more but got shoved down as Patrick tied his hands tight together. "There we are," Patrick would whisper softly. Henry shuffled a bit, groaning at the ever increasing pain in his legs which Patrick resided to keep him down.

"Get off me," he grumbled. Patrick would lean close and bite his neck softly, getting Henry to tense up. Then came the sting Patrick yearned a reaction of. He'd bit into his skin, letting the other whine in pain as the blood trickled among Patrick's teeth. He stopped when he tasted it. Henry laid down, merely accepting fate. He knew what Patrick was like, he didn't expect anything worse of getting killed by him really. Then his mind wandered with the thought. What really did he have to live for? He was a lowlife, abused, ruthless, rage-filled, murderous, self hating psychopath of a bully. And Patrick had turned out no better than he. So what really was the point? If Patrick wanted to kill him, so be it. But, Patrick didn't want to. He'd always wanted to touch something, see it suffer, get his hands dirty. He loved feeling that excitement, never once did he feel guilty for it. He wouldn't just kill the other. No, he'd make him beg for mercy. Turning him into something he hated while he begged for it to stop. That is what Patrick wanted to do. And with Henry's physical position, he could never stop that. A thought would come to him then. If he couldn't do anything about it, why not embrace it? Maybe he could rile Patrick up, enjoy it. He could feel the excitement. Maybe not the torturous insanity excitement Patrick got out of watching bugs writher in pain on sticks. Or the many animals that would run away the first few times from the fridge until they could no longer be chased. No, he could never feel the excitement Patrick had as being a hunter. A mere predator. Never could Henry get his rocks off on that. But he'd been the victim his entire homelife. He was the victim now, to someone who was always above humanity. He was above god itself. Why not let that seep through his veins? Enjoy it. Let all that hatred fade to black and enjoy the torture.
God that's kinky, he'd think.