What started with a random number (BXB) (GAY)

What's a better way to scare someone off?

"Bat? Are you fucking insane? What the fuck do you mean?" Emory yelled, watching as one of the five ran off to the car. 

Chris just smiled at him, standing back up and cracking his fingers. "You're in for it now." 

Emory began to thrash around slightly more, but he just got another kick to the face. And soon, it would be a bat to the face. 

Chris took the bat from his goon and did a practice swing a few feet away. 

"You know," Chris started, making his way back over to Emory. "I did my fair share of baseball. I even hit a few home runs."

"Look, you- you don't have to do this. Do you want money? I can get you loads of money! Just don't hit me with that. I'll- I'll leave you alone and I'll give you however much you want--" Emory responded frantically. If he got hit with a bat in the head, full swing, he might actually end up dying here. 

"Nah... I don't think I need money," Chris answered. His mood remaining stoic. He brought the bat over his shoulder, squaring up, ready to swing. 

"No- no, please, come on, we can talk this out--" 

Chris just grinned in response, he was about to swing when a car door slammed and filled the park with noise. 

"Hey! What the actual fuck do you think you're doing?" 

Chris turned and so did the others. About two of them started whispering rapidly to each other. 

Emory lifted his head, his vision was slightly blurred but he could make out a tall figure approaching them. Looks like his boyfriend did show up. 

"Shit, Chris, let's dip, man. We beat him up enough," Someone to the left of Emory said, someone on the other side immediately agreeing. 

"Shut the fuck up, Kai, I have a fucking bat." Chris muttered, shutting down the idea. 

Red made his way over, standing in front of Chris. 

"Let go of him before you get hurt so badly that you won't wake up." Red commanded, clenching his fists. 

"I have a bat, dude. What the hell are you gonna do about it?" Chris snapped back, swinging the bat around in circles next to him. 

"Last chance," Red muttered, holding direct eye contact. 

"Yeah, come at me, bitch--" Chris began, but he immediately stopped talking as Red pulled something out from inside of his blazer. 

A gun. 

"Let him go." He instructed once more. 

Chris instantly turned to Emory, his eyes on the person behind him. 

"Yo- yo, let him go, okay?" He stuttered, the man instantly shoving Emory forward. 

Emory didn't get up right away, he lay on the ground, rubbing the back of his head. 

"Now you listen to me," Red started, taking a step forward and grabbing the front of Chris's shirt, pulling him closer, and pressing the barrel of the gun against his temple. "if you ever, and I mean ever, touch him again," He paused. "I will fucking kill you." 

Chris nodded rapidly. "Yes- yes, sir. I won't touch him again, I- I swear! Please- please don't shoot me--" 

Red continued to stare at Chris for a few seconds before shoving him back and putting the gun back inside the pocket in the inside of his blazer. "Great. Now run along." 

Chris and his group of friends immediately sprinted back to the car and drove off, leaving only Emory and Red in the park. 

Emory was still on the ground, he was panting heavily, each breath was painful and his head was pounding.