Slippery Slope [Vampire!Riley's Dad x Spongebob x Slenderman [Love Triangle]]

Chapter Three - Spongebob's POV

I don't think I would've met Slenderman at all if not for a windy September day on a rooftop, back when I was in college.

"You know, I think you should get out more," said Tommy, cigarette in hand. Tommy was one of my only friends during my time at BU. We'd known each other since elementary school and he was one of the few people who had still been interested in talking to me after all this time. That being said, we probably never would've become friends if he hadn't started all the conversations himself for a good few years.

"There's this party tomorrow night, you should go! It could be good for you," he said. 

"You keep saying that like I'm not perfectly happy living my life the way I am. I'm not going to any stupid college frat party." He rolled his eyes at me as I spoke. 

"Whatever, Spongebob." He pushed his blond hair back and stood up. "If you do change your mind, here's all you need to know." He pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to me. 

I muttered a "thanks" and he nodded in acknowledgement before walking away. Once he was gone, I stared down at the paper in my hands and considered it. Me? At a party? The idea was almost laughable. Then again, Tommy did have a point. I was becoming quite the social recluse. While I felt there wasn't much to gain from going to a party, what was there to lose aside from a few hours of my time? 

I arrived at the party late. I hoped that going late meant that no one would even notice that I was there. I could say I went to a party and I wouldn't even need to interact with anyone. The door was wide open when I arrived. The music was blaring and the house was shaking from the heavy bass. I slipped into a corner of the room and sat down in a chair. Everyone else was up dancing around or talking, but that wasn't my thing. 

That's when I saw him. He caught my eye from across the room. He was taller than everyone else and very slim. He was exceptionally overdress for the occasion. I was completely entranced by him. He didn't have visible eyes so I don't think I'll ever know if he was staring back, but I'd like to think he was. 

Just then, someone slammed into the side of the chair I was sitting on, breaking me out of whatever trance I was just caught in. Their drink splashed onto my shirt, leaving me soaked. 

"Oh, god, I'm so sor-" He turned around and looked at me. "Spongebob? You came?" Tommy.

"Oh, uh, yeah. I didn't have anything else to do," I replied. He just stared at me, looking a little lost in thought. He always seems a little more caught up with his thoughts and emotions when he drinks.

"Do you have any napkins?" I finally asked, after what felt like an eternity of silence. 

"Right. That." He reached into his pockets, pulling out some tissues. "Will this work?"

Before I could respond, he was already wiping my shirt down. He was closer than I would've liked. I was preparing to shove him off of me when I noticed someone standing next to us.

"Hey, do you want these?" 

It was him. The guy I was staring at earlier was leaning over, handing me paper towels he must've grabbed from the kitchen. I was speechless, just staring at him with my mouth agape. 

As this man I've never talked to before looked down at me while I sat, shirt drenched with alcohol  and skin becoming slightly stained from absorbing it, I felt a bond I'd never experienced before. 

They say that eyes are windows to the soul, but at that moment I knew that couldn't be true. Eyes are where the soul reaches its bony little fingers through the bars of its cell, pleading to be released. They're not meant to be that way. They would dance together under the stars on moonlit evenings if they were able. They would gaze at clouds. They would make the music of angels. They would find beauty everywhere. If only they were allowed. But they can't. Not unless you let them. It wasn't until he was less than a foot away from me that I realized. His soul was free as a bird, singing a song only we could hear.

"I think we're good, thanks." Tommy cut into the moment yet again. He looked away and continued wiping me down. The man didn't leave though. Even without a mouth, I could feel the warmth of his smile beaming down on me. He handed me the napkins, knowing I would've much preferred that over the tissues Tommy had.

"I'm Slenderman, by the way." 

"Spongebob."

"I haven't seen you around, do you live on campus?" He was interested in talking to me. I almost couldn't believe it. 

"Oh, uh, yeah, do you?" I asked.

"Yeah! Here, do you want my number?" We were going to talk again after that night. I had never been so excited. 

He took a notepad and pen out of his pocket and wrote down his name and phone number. 

"I hope to see you again sometime soon, Spongebob."

"Likewise." 

I smiled at him and he nodded in acknowledgement before walking away. I reached for my phone in the pocket of my pants when I realized that Tommy was gone. I looked around, but I couldn't see him anywhere. He never just walks away without saying something. Something happened.

I got up from my seat, looking around for any sign of his blond, slightly wavy hair in the crowd. It couldn't be too hard to hear a guy with a British accent in a room full of Americans, right? I caught a glimpse of his red and white shirt as he dashed through the front door. I picked up speed, shoving my way through the crowd of drunk college students. Where was he going? 

I made it outside and shouted his name. 

"TOMMY! TOMMY, WHERE ARE- oh." He was sitting on the curb. His head was in between his knees. I walked up to him, placing my hand gently on his back. 

"I don't need your help, Spongebob. I'm fine," he said, through sniffles. "I don't want to get hurt by you more than I already have." 

"What?" I hadn't realized I'd done anything wrong. Tommy had been my best friend for years, I'd never hurt him intentionally. 

"God, Spongebob, why don't you just go back inside and smother some other mysterious tall man with your attention?" I knew exactly what it was that was going on right then, but I didn't want it to be true. 

"Tommy, you're drunk." 

"Do you remember ninth grade, Spongebob?" I knew where this was going, but that wasn't a question I was meant to respond to. "Do you remember when we went out to the park with nets? All over some stupid joke you made about 'jellyfishing.' Do you remember when I shoved you into the pond and you grabbed me and dragged me in with you? Because I remember the way you looked into my eyes, Spongebob. I remember the way it felt when you kissed me on the grass. I remember you wiping my tears away and telling me it would all be okay when I told you I was scared of what could happen to us. And now we're at a party and you're in front of me, staring at that guy. I want to say I don't care, but I do. I care so much. I love you Spongebob. I love you so much. I've loved you since middle school and I never stopped. I'm sorry." 

I didn't know what to say. I only knew I couldn't love him like that again. I lost feelings, and they're not something I could ever imagine would come back. 

"No, I'm sorry," I said. 

Just then, a car pulled up.

"Tommy, innit?" The driver asked him. 

"Oh. This is my Uber," he said, getting up. "Bye, Spongebob." 

He got in the car and left.

He was gone from campus the next day.