Misanthropy (Jeff the Killer X Ticci Toby)

Chapter 17

Hello Hello! I want to say thank all of you for the wonderful words you have all given towards this story. I appreciate it so, so much! This chapter came out to be fifteen pages! It continued on but I had to cut it in half, so much is going on that I could not just keep it all in one chapter. But no worries, the next chapter is already halfway through so it should be out shortly. 

I was thinking of doing a sort of Q & A on my Instagram page. So if you follow me, heads up for that. But please, do not be shy, ask away any thing you would like to know. I will answer pretty much anything. 

WARNING: USE OF DEROGATORY TERM. MENTIONS OF SEXUAL ABUSE. OVERALL LANGUAGE.

Thank you all so much for your support! Hope you enjoy!

~ Chapter 17 ~

Toby woke from a surprisingly, dreamless sleep. He was sprawled out on the bathroom floor, back aching and bones creaking as he sat up, but well rested nonetheless. It was a surprise to the twitching Proxy to have no ache behind his eyes or force his heavy lids to stay open the first few blinks after waking. But even the lack of sleep deprivation and push of a well rested bodily system did not keep the embarrassing, humiliating remembrances of the night before from curling his gut into a knotted mass of self hatred and regret. It did not matter to the teen that the release he had experienced was one of the best he had had in months.

He sat on the dirty tiled floor for a long amount of time, unacknowledged minutes ticking by, knees curled up against his chest, face buried in his palms as he tried to force himself to forget his actions all while reliving them vividly in his head. He jerked out of surprise when a series of knocks echoed against the bathroom door, breaking him from his first mental turmoil of the day.

"Toby, it's 10:30. Time to rise and shine." Hoodie's voice was muffled by the door, but recognizable to the teen even through his self decrepit thoughts. Toby was unsure how he would be able to face the two other Proxies, how would he look at them now that he had seen them at their most intimate moment, their most vulnerable. 'With much difficulty' he thought as he hauled himself up from the floor, taking a moment to relieve his bladder of the nightly build up. He took his time trying to tame his tangled hair, hoping to at least find something else to distract his thoughts before he entered out into the room.

Toby inhaled deeply as he placed his hand on the knob of the door, he could do this, no big deal. All he saw was the two Proxies fucking, no shame in that, nevermind he used their noise as fuel to his own sick imaginations. That was not his fault, he was still a young individual, his body strove off of sexual endeavors as much as it did food. It was a necessity at this point in his life. So technically it was Masky and Hoodies fault he got all worked up. Yeah, it was their fault. He had no choice in the matter.

That's what he told himself at least.

The Proxy exhaled the breath that had begun to burn his lungs, the lock clicked from its home and Toby pushed the door open. The television was still playing, the busty blond reporter muted as she showed the remains of a burned down building. The caption read 'Yet another home mysteriously burned during the night'. Toby scanned the room, hazel gold gaze sweeping over the two beds, both had the sheets and comforters pulled tight across the mattress, they sat neat and clean, as if neither had been slept in...or used for other purposes. Hoodie sat on the edge of one, unmasked head bowed and back hunched as he read over the files that were the cause for this whole trip across country.

"Morning." Hoodie mumbled, not looking up from the papers in his hand. Toby swallowed thickly, a cracked and small sounding "mornin'" left his mouth. Bright green glanced up at the younger male, taking in the awkward stance, the shuffling of converse covered feet, the fidgeting of hands that Toby tried to hide deep in his pockets. Hoodie sighed, finding himself placing the file down on the bed space beside him. He stood slowly, and with all the grace of a well balanced feline on the hunt for its prey. He was without his oversized sweatshirt at the moment, the plain grey, short sleeved v-neck rode up as the Proxy stretched his tense back muscles to expose a pale toned strip of stomach that Toby found his gaze trailing to unexpectedly.