You Give Love A Bad Name

Harsh, prickled entwinements of carefully machine-woven fabric contrasted greatly to the pale, soft skin it was forced to cradle up against. The mound of flesh quivered slightly, sure to disturb any dust mites or other microscopic signs of life that dwelled on the tightly bound strands of thick thread. A sudden profound intake of oxygen rattled the overwhelming silence that clung desperately to the space time continuum, shattering the distilled quiet almost immediately. Two tightly clenched folds of human epidermis snapped open violently, revealing a mysteriously enticing green orb that partook in inhabiting these folds. The small areas of flesh fluttered completely shut for a brief moment or so before opening once more.

Devon Kampen had a damn near difficult time trying to comprehend as to why he was lying on his boyfriend's floor. He shifted his weight and raised his head curiously, taking the world in through his right eye. A painful sting grew steadily more apparent on his left cheek as he felt his left hand rise instinctively to it. As his fingers probed and skimmed over the smooth contours of his face, he could find nothing that would set off any mental alarms. The only thing that he could process from the miniscule dents and engravings was simply the fact that the carpet had temporarily molded to him for however long he had laid there. But that was just it: How long had he been sprawled out like this in his unconscious state? A few hours? A few days? A week? He didn't know. But, the frightening thing was that he couldn't recollect why he was there in the first place. Well, being at his boyfriend's house was a no-brainer – he loved him and devoted all possible time to him. But why was he on the floor like that? Perhaps he had too much to drink? Whatever the case may be, his only true concern was to get off of this wretched floor and to find his lover.

He gritted his teeth as he brought his knees forward, applying all of his weight down on them. He blindly reached in front of him, grabbing a firm hold onto anything that seemed remotely sturdy and secure. He held his breath and grunted in pain as he rose from the beige carpet and finally onto his bare feet. Almost instantly, he rested a hand to his head as he massaged his temple, doing his best to numb the pain and agony that had plagued him. He could feel something sticky and wet trickle and slide down the front of his face and could almost hear it splatter on the ground. He forced his attention to his feet as the vision in his right eye blurrily made out a splotch of red. He could feel his fingers on his face once more though in spite of himself, he yanked them away, curiously gazing at the red-tainted spindles of flesh before him. What was going on here?

Before he allowed himself to permanently dwell upon the contents of this mere question forever, his facial expression contorted as a horrific gasp escaped from his thin, pink lips. He had gotten the crimson essence dubbed as blood all over Vincent's new and extremely expensive carpet! Oh dear God, what had he done? Vincent would never forgive him, not now, not in a million years. He knew he was in deep shit and he had to get himself out of it now while he still had the chance.

However, before he even had much time to consider the most extreme severity of the situation he had unfortunately placed himself in, he heard a voice that caused shivers to run down his little spine, though not in a pleasurable way as it usually was. No. This time he knew it was different.

"About time you got up, you worthless piece of shit."

That was the death voice, the kind of voice that dripped no signs of sympathy whatsoever. That was the voice that meant business. Even though he had his back to him, the words tore at his very soul. It would have been paradise if he just yelled at him. There was no escape, not now, not ever. There was no one in this world that could even possibly consider saving him now. He'd have to face the wrath of the demon on his own.

Something hard and heavy collided with the back of his head as he screamed in heart-wrenching pain before falling into a pathetic and crumpled pile on the ground.

"Don't you ever fucking have your back turned on me when I'm talking to you, you fucking dipshit! How many fucking times do I have to tell you, huh?!"

A hard, unforgiving front end of a shoe collided mercilessly into his side forcing him to roll grudgingly onto his back. Devon's eye bored into his love's as his left one stared out placidly, blankly. After all, no expression could ever be read from an eyeball constructed entirely of glass.

Vincent's furious facial expression seemed to have softened slightly for once. Devon couldn't stand being stared at the way he was and he awkwardly avoided his boyfriend's gaze as his eyes swept over him, taking in the sorry sight before him.

"Aw, you're bleeding. You poor thing. I'm sorry. Come here."

Without his say-so (as it usually was), Devon could feel himself being drawn into an embrace. He wrapped his arms around Vincent's well-built frame, clinging onto him and trying to savor this moment as long as he could before all hell broke loose again. Devon sighed happily as soft pats on his back reassured him that everything was going to be okay. All was right with the world, it seemed.

"What the hell is this shit?"

Devon's eyes snapped open as he whimpered. He could feel Vincent recoil from him with utmost disgust, it seemed. This idea seemed more like a reality as he could feel himself being violently wrenched to the side.

"Is that blood all over my fucking brand new carpet?! Do you have any idea how much money I spend trying to make this shithole more like a home?? Huh?! Do you?!"

"I.."

Devon cried out in pain as he could feel himself being kicked over and over again. He tried not to let his emotions get the better of him. No, he couldn't have that. He deserved this. He bled all over Vincent's hard-earned money and now he was going to have to pay for it. He deserved it. He deserved getting kicked to the point where he almost couldn't breathe. He deserved every Goddamn bit of it and he knew it. He loved Vincent and Vincent loved him and that's all that mattered.

"Get up! Get up! Get up and make me some Goddamn breakfast! Jesus fucking Christ! I clothe you and feed you and practically give you a place to live in and this is what I fucking get?! If you really loved me then you would at least show me some fucking respect."

"I love you," Devon whispered, but this appeared to go by unnoticed.

However, despite what his bruised and bleeding body was telling him otherwise, Devon picked himself up off of the floor as he scurried into the kitchen, not wanting his love to wait a second longer.

"What would you like me to make you for breakfast?"

"What would you like me to make you for breakfast?," Vincent said harshly, mimicking Devon's exact words. "What the fuck do you think I want?! I only eat one Goddamn thing for breakfast every day!"

"R-right, but I just thought.."

"You don't fucking think anything! Know why? 'Cause you're fucking dumber than shit, that's why! Now stop your fucking babbling and make me some fucking breakfast before you really piss me off!"

"Anything, my love!"

Devon opened the refrigerator door as he took out the gallon of milk. As he inspected it a little closer, he noticed that it was just a few days out of date.

"V-Vincent?"

"What?," he asked dangerously.

"The milk's gone bad."

"Then go to the fucking store and get some more! God, do I always have to be the one to tell you everything?"

"No, don't worry, Vincent. I'm leaving right now, see? You'll have the best breakfast ever, I promise."

Without another word, Devon grabbed his jacket, slipped on his shoes, and snatched a five dollar bill as he headed out the front door and into the real world.

"If you don't come back in five minutes, I'll fucking castrate you with my bare hands!!"

As these words chased after him, Devon shook his head and sighed impatiently. Vincent wasn't being very fair. He knew that getting to the store, buying something, and then heading back home took at least ten minutes. But Devon knew better than to under-estimate his love. He could feel his legs tighten and curl and he launched forward with unnatural speed, almost literally flying down the sidewalk. He could feel awkward glances being directed exactly to him as he zoomed down the unevenly paved concrete, but that didn't matter now.

After cutting through tough crowds and hazardous traffic (and not to mention almost getting hit a few times), he gratefully bolted into the grocery store, only pausing so that he could greedily intake the oxygen supply that surrounded him. He ran a hand haphazardly through his light brown, shoulder-length locks in a pretty poor attempt to fix his hair, though the effort did him no good as it flopped right back in front of his handsome and pretty face once more. He licked his lips and looked around cautiously, instantly on the alert as he trotted to the back of the building where the refrigerated section was located as always. He squatted on the floor, peering through the thin barrier of glass innocently, scanning the labels as he went. A frown settled upon his features suddenly. Damn, they didn't have 1%. Vincent wasn't going to be very pleased with him…

He rose slowly onto his feet as his fingers wrapped delicately around the handle before pulling the door open altogether. A blast of cool air rushed toward him suddenly as he shivered in spite of himself. After pulling out a jug of regular skim milk that had a good date on it, he closed the door and turned around. His brain told him to move forward, yet his legs refused to move. Something was telling him to stay right where he was, but he just couldn't place what that something could be. He felt his head rotate slightly to the left and the sight that captured his attention was simply to die for. There, only about five feet from him, stood a rather delicious-looking morsel with long, flowing strands of raven-black hair and eyes of the brightest ocean blue that could draw you in for hours on end. He wanted to drown in those topaz-colored pools. He felt his mouth drop open despite himself and when he reached a hand up to cover the gaping hole, he accidentally let the milk jug escape his grasp as gravity seized it, causing it to fall to the tiled floor. Devon bent down immediately to pick it up, his face flushing furiously, but he soon realized that he had yet another problem: the jug had sprung a leak.

"Here, let me help you."

That voice, where did it come from? Devon's heart skipped a beat when it came to his attention that the gorgeous blue-eyed creature was indeed talking to him, and trying to help him no less!

"No, it's my fault. I don't want you helping me. I'm just stupid and clumsy. These sorts of things happen to me all the time," he stated, feeling his face burn as he avoided the man's eyes.

"No, really. I insist. It's no trouble for me at all. I like helping others."

Devon smiled to himself absent-mindedly, obviously thinking that he was perhaps the luckiest guy in the world about now. He watched from under his hair as the other pulled a bandana out of his back pocket as he started mopping up the spilled milk with it.

"There. No harm done," the man stated in such a manner that his eyes twinkled when he smiled. "Oh! Hang on. Stay right here, I'll be back in a minute."

Devon waved as the nice and beautiful young man headed off to parts unknown in the store. Shrugging to himself, he opened the glass door yet again as he pulled out yet another gallon of skim milk. Just about as soon as he had heard the door close, he smiled approvingly as the gorgeous guy returned as promised though with a proper sales associate.

"This guy here said that he'd be kind enough to go ahead and clean up this mess; you can go ahead and check out if you'd like."

"Okay."

Devon made sure he had a firm hold onto the plastic milk jug before he made his way to the front of the store. He was rather surprised when he realized that the raven-haired beauty was following none other than himself.

"Are you okay? Was it something I said?"

"Huh? No, no. Everything's fine."

"Are you sure? You just seem a little jumpy is all."

"No, I'm fine. It's always better to be alert, you know."

"Yeah, I guess so."

With the mysteriously attractive man still right behind him, Devon placed the gallon of milk onto the worn conveyor belt as it whirred to life, toting the dairy item along.

"Will this be on your card today?"

A woman's voice suddenly flooded through his thoughts, though he had managed to process what she had said before he could get stared at; he had had enough of that for one day as it was.

"No."

A sharp beep made him cringe slightly, although the sound was nothing more than a scanner noisily reading a complicated arrangement of lines.

"Your total today is going to be $2.49."

He fished around in his pocket before warily handing the young woman his money, even going out of his way to offer her a weak smile as he did such.

"Keep the change," he barked harshly. Without another word, he shoved the milk into a plastic bag before almost running out of the door, not even bothering to look back.

"Are you sure you're all right?"

That voice nearly made him drop his purchase all over again, but even though he fumbled with it, he had managed to keep a firm grip on it.

"Yes, I'm fine. Just fine."

"Do you want me to give you a ride home or something? I can, if you want. It's not a big deal."

"No, I live just down the street. I can walk there."

"But I insist!"

Before Devon had even considered a chance to protest, a strong hand grabbed a firm hold onto his wrist as he was literally being dragged down the cramped parking lot.

"Oh, the name's Jake, by the way."

Devon could see the words "Nice to meet you, Jacob." form in his mind's eye, but his mouth refused to open and let his thoughts roam free beyond his control. Instead, he found himself standing in front of a ratty old Honda Prizm. He extended a hand curiously and innocently toward the rusted metal door frame as his thin fingers inspected the grooves and dents. He jerked his hand away from the cool steel suddenly, almost as if his hand were placed on a hot stove top. He could feel something luke-warm trickling down his middle finger. Without even really thinking, Devon just crammed his finger into his mouth as a tangy, metallic flavor poured over his taste buds.

"The door's open, you know."

About as soon as the words entered his ear canals, Devon roughly yanked open the passenger's side door and slid onto the vinyl seat. He slammed the door shut, a bit more forcefully than he had intended, as the loud noise shattered his nerves, almost making him jump clear out of his skin. He reached toward the confining instrument that most called a seat belt as he stretched the strap across his slim frame, only smiling in a satisfied sort of a manner when he heard the soft little click that signified that he was strapped in safely; it made him feel secure in a way, and he really liked that feeling. It was different, obviously something he seldom felt.

"Oh, I forgot to mention that I'm rather attracted to your eyes. Are they natural? Like, were you born with them or are they just contacts?"

"Oh. I…"

Devon paused briefly, trying to think of the best way to put this.

"Yeah, they're natural. Well, my right one is, anyway."

He paused yet again, pointing directly to his left eye.

"Fake eye," he explained, laughing awkwardly.

"Oh, okay. I see. I've just never seen anyone with one brown and one green eye before. I don't mean that in a bad way or anything. I like it; I think it's very unique."

"I'll have to tell my boyfriend that you approve of them."

The one called Jake cocked his head slightly, finding this comment rather bizarre and peculiar. Nonetheless, he inserted a long silver key into the ignition and with a swift, quick turn of his wrist, an electric shock surged through the vehicle as it sputtered to life.

"Where did you say you lived again?," Jake asked just as he was starting to back out of the parking lot.

"It's not that far, just down the street. Don't worry, I'll tell you where to stop."

Devon could feel gravity seize him and cling desperately onto him as they sped out of the parking lot and onto the main roadway. He shifted his feet barely as he could feel the cold dampness of the milk jug penetrate through his thin shoes. It would reach his socks before too much longer, but that didn't bother him too terribly much. Besides, it was better than having it sit in his lap; he'd prefer cold feet over cold legs any day. And there was no way in hell he was going to ask this Jake character if he could just stick it in the back. They weren't going far anyway, just a few blocks or so.

"So, how did you get that fake eye of yours anyway, if you don't mind me asking?," Jake questioned rather boldly.

"I'd prefer not to answer that," Devon answered quickly and bitterly. Jake was obviously progressing onto territory that simply stated "No trespassing" before it.

"Alright, alright. If you don't want to tell me, then that's fine. I'll shut up right now."

Devon sighed and stared out of the window, watching as the trees and buildings appeared to be running backwards. He allowed his eyelids to flutter shut for a while as old memories lapped at him. Yes, he still recalled that exact night that he had lost his eye. Vincent had stormed home one night, drunk, and apparently ready for a fight. The mere fact that Devon had mistakenly asked him where he was turned Vincent into a vicious human tornado, to put things nicely. When Vincent was showing him a small hunting knife he had currently purchased for the time being, he became infuriated suddenly and out of nowhere, just rocketed the blade clear into Devon's left eye, destroying it almost immediately. Whatever the reason that Vincent did it, Devon whole-heartedly forgave him even though he thought Vincent had done nothing wrong and he hadn't even apologized in the first place. All he knew was that almost as soon as the incident had occurred, Vincent, even in his drunken state, phoned 9-11. He had told the paramedics that Devon himself had somehow managed to jam the knife blade into his eye, basically intending it as an attempted suicide. Devon didn't mind this at all. He was the one that had upset Vincent in the first place, so he very well deserved his fate. Vincent was even kind enough to go out of his way to select and purchase a glass eye for him. When the surgeon suggested that Devon should have a green eye since it was his natural iris color, Vincent shot this down immediately. Vincent remarked that Devon was ugly enough as he was and he needed all of the help that he could get. So, again, without Devon's say-so, he went out of his way and selected a dark brown-colored eye for him. Devon would have been happy no matter what Vincent chose, so he had one brown eye ever since. Devon also remembered having to go to therapy twice a week to help him recover from his recent "suicide attempt". Even despite the fact that Devon had to pay for these sessions with his own money, he had passed them with flying colors, which reassured him in a sense.

"If you could just pull over to the right side over here…"

Devon could feel the four-wheeled hunk of machinery slowly drift off to the side, almost in a dream-like state, before it just stopped altogether.

"Well, thank you very much for the ride, Jacob. I highly appreciate it," Devon said in a flat, monotone voice as he hoisted the plastic bag from his feet and into his hand as his fingers snaked around the handles instinctively.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold on a second! I don't even get to know your name?"

Devon sighed impatiently, his eyes gazing longingly at his home.

"It's Devon if you really want to know," he said as he unbuckled himself from the harness-like contraption as he opened the passenger's side door.

"Whoa! Hang on! Where are you going in such a hurry?"

"I really should be heading inside…"

"Could you hang on just a second? Please? I'm not asking for much, I'm really not."

Devon sighed, a bit louder than he had intended, as he just grudgingly slumped against the black vinyl car seat. He watched with a slight curiosity as he studied the long-haired man, who appeared to be scribbling something down on a part of a Subway napkin.

"Here. You can drop by anytime you'd like. I look forward to seeing you again. I really do."

Devon forced a small and fake smile to his thin lips as he took the miniscule scrap of paper product before shoving it into his right pant pocket. He got out of the car and grabbed the bag with the milk in it before slamming the car door so hard it rattled the window in its frame. He hid his face behind a curtain of his light brunette hair, his cheeks flushing wildly as he could feel Jake's orbs burning holes into his back. Without bothering to give him so much as a farewell glance, Devon instantly moved forward, heading sheepishly up the crumbling stone steps that would lead him through that all too familiar front door. He bit his lip as he twisted the golden door knob, relieved that it was actually unlocked this time. He stepped inside as he quietly close the door behind him, licking his lips out of nervous habit perhaps more than anything.

"Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to show up."

Devon could feel himself recoil shamefully.

"So, what took you so long? Where exactly have you been?," Vincent whispered dangerously. Devon knew that the death voice was bound to take over at any time.

"Well, you see, I was just shopping for your favorite kind of milk, but they didn't have any, so I got skim milk instead, if you don't mind, of course. If you do, I can always take it back. But, I dropped the first jug because you know how clumsy I am and I had to have someone help me clean it up. Oh, and I got a new one, obviously."

Vincent suddenly broke out in loud, uncontrollable laughter as he shook his head.

"You're so fucking adorable."

Devon warily observed Vincent pull himself off of the couch as he slowly, almost lazily, stalked towards him. Vincent extended his right hand outward as he strongly snatched the plastic holding device from Devon, tossing it wildly to the side.

"Breakfast can wait for a while, I think," the slightly muscular, short black-haired man whispered. His grasp extended outward once more as he pulled Devon's thin and pliable form toward him, his arms snaking around him naturally. Devon practically melted in his lover's strong, sculpted arms. This was a side of Vincent that he hardly ever saw, so he tried to savor this moment for as long as he could.

"Come here," Vincent demanded, his eyes glittering with lust and desire. Devon found his statement rather unnecessary, figuring that he was just going to be dragged along effortlessly into parts unknown anyway. As he usually was 99.9% of the time, he was proven right as he could feel one of Vincent's hands clamp firmly onto his left wrist as he took one giant step forward, literally pulling Devon along with him. Devon couldn't help himself as he looked behind him as an expression that was absolutely pitiful captured his features. Devon knew that Vincent always got what he wanted and that there was no turning back now.

The walk down the hallway this morning seemed to take a lot longer than it usually did. Vincent earnestly progressed onward, though Devon knew all too well of the whereabouts in which they were heading. He walked through the wooden door frame immediately after Vincent and into his bedroom as long last. He swallowed hesitantly, rather unsure of what to expect next. After all, Vincent could be very unpredictable at times. Before he could allow his thoughts to stray any longer, Vincent lunged forward dramatically, grabbing Devon by the shoulders as he slammed him up against one of the bedroom walls. Devon yelped, his back searing with utmost pain as Vincent leaned in, crashing his lips with his heatedly. Devon was entirely taken aback by this situation as he simply stared at Vincent, obviously dumb-founded by his partner. Vincent licked and traced the outline of Devon's lips with his long, skillful tongue before just prying his lips apart easily, greedily entering his mouth in a heartbeat. Devon almost immediately reacted to this as if he were waiting all day for this moment as he let his eyes flutter shut, allowing his tongue to dance and swirl with Vincent's erotically. Vincent curled up his leg unexpectedly and rammed his knee into Devon's crotch repeatedly, punishing him for what he had just done. The brown-haired youth cried out in Vincent's mouth as he lowered his head slightly and stopped swirling his tongue about, just returning to the submissive state that Vincent wanted him to be in in the first place. The short-haired man slowly returned his leg to its normal straight position as he pulled away, smirking. A thin whisper of saliva connected them for a moment or two before it just dispelled altogether. Vincent let a hand slide roughly up against Devon's right side as his fingers curled around the fabric of his jacket before yanking it off in one swift movement. He growled suddenly as he tossed the smaller boy onto the full-sized bed.

"Take your fucking clothes off. I don't have all day."

Devon sprang up in a heartbeat as he blushed while he kicked off his shoes and socks before fumbling clumsily with his pants. He pulled his shirt off from over his head as he completely disposed of it before he tore off his jeans finally. Just as soon as he was starting to pull his boxers down, he was slammed against the mattress suddenly and unexpectedly, nearly knocking the wind right out of his lungs. Before he could react to whatever was going on, he felt an unforgiving grip upon his groin area that was so strong and painful that he was literally on the verge of tears.

"Do you love me?"

"Yes!"

"Do you really love me?"

"Yes!," Devon cried out again as he could feel sharp fingernails poking through the thin material.

"Say it."

"I love you!"

"Say it and mean it!"

"I love you!!"

"Do you want me to fuck you? Huh? Is that what you want me to do?"

"Yes!! Put your Goddamn dick inside of my right now and fuck me like the dirty bastard that I am!," Devon cried out obediently as the hand that remained on his crotch turned tightly.

"All right. If that's what you really want, then so be it. However, you do realize what you have to do for me first, right?"

Devon nodded, not caring what he had to do, just as long as they went through with this. For once, Vincent's full attention was on him. Not his job, not his stupid football game, him. And Devon was going to make sure that he enjoyed every damn bit of this, too.

As Devon slipped off his boxers, he stole a glance over at Vincent who was in the process of taking his clothes off, though this was going by excruciatingly slow. Devon knew he was doing this just to mess with him, but he tried not to let this bother him.

He could feel himself being thrown down onto the carpeted floor before a hand grabbed him by the hair, forcing him to be brought face to face with his love's arousal.

"Suck it."

His gut instinct kicking in, Devon forced Vincent's member into his widely parted lips. He crammed as much of the shaft as he could into his mouth as he closed his eyes and groaned, sucking on him like he was a damn lollipop. He tilted his head to the side slightly as he let his skillful tongue travel down the length of him, taking in every fold and vein on Vincent's rapidly purpling cock. He sucked on the organ a little harder now as he let his tongue swirl around the head enticingly, slightly prodding and poking at him as if daring him to go right ahead already and release. He knew that Vincent wouldn't allow this just yet, but Devon almost encouraged it, in a way. After all, it had been so long since he had last tasted him… While he had wandered off in his own little dream world, Devon was taken completely by surprise when Vincent thrusted his waist forward suddenly, actually making Devon choke and gag on him as he pulled away, coughing and sputtering loudly.

"That was hardly acceptable, but I suppose there's no turning back, now is there?"

Devon just massaged his throat as he squinted, swallowing painfully. To prevent him from being tossed back on the bed like a rag doll all over again, Devon clambered to his feet, tottering around for a moment before he crawled onto the bed and laid back at last.

Devon could feel the weight shift on the bed as the metallic springs and coils screamed out in pain. Vincent slithered toward him, whether it was intended as a seductive manner or not, Devon couldn't be for sure, but he liked it nonetheless. Vincent grabbed onto Devon's shoulders yet again as he pinned him against the soft rectangular cushion, making sure that he wasn't going anywhere. He slapped Devon's thighs violently, signaling that he wanted him to spread his legs right here and now. Devon, of course, obeyed to this rough command as he locked his eyes with Vincent's, almost pleading with him in a way.

"God, please! Take me now! It's been so long, so very long!"

"If you don't stop whining you're going to be on your own."

"No, no! Please! I want this! I want this more than anything else in the entire world! God, you're so big, so fucking big! Mmm.. Oh God, what I wouldn't give to just have your long, strong cock ramming at my insides and fucking me into insanity! I—"

Devon gasped and then screamed in a way that mingled hints of both pure pleasure and ultimate pain, yet they were swirled about and combined so perfectly that it aroused Vincent to no end. It took Devon a while to fully adjust to the way of things. Devon cried out pleasurably as a hand wound around his organ as harsh fingers stroked the shaft before just yanking on it altogether. Devon tilted his head back and screamed over and over again as he shifted his hips, forcing Vincent to explore even deeper into him.

"Don't you release! Don't you fucking release! You best be holding all of that shit in!"

Devon's face contorted in uncontrollable expressions of slightly frustrated pleasure. He could feel his face burn as he clamped down on his bottom lip so hard that he almost bit clear through it.

Vincent crammed the entire length of him into Devon's tight entrance. Devon grasped onto the bed sheets as he clawed at them absent-mindedly, moaning loudly as Vincent rammed against his prostate repeatedly.

"Fuck! You! Bitch! Fuck! You! Bitch!," Vincent chanted over and over again, purposely trying to degrade Devon as much as humanly possible.

Devon could feel trails of something cool and wet slide down his pale cheeks, though these tears weren't due to what Vincent was yelling at him, oh no; it was nothing like that. It was the fact that Vincent had increased his speed a few levels and that this was turning into something entirely hellish and physically painful. Devon quickly discovered that he was no longer fully enjoying himself.

Vincent finally released his grip from Devon's member as Vincent's long nails dug into the other's flesh.

"Fuck!," the jet-black haired man screamed as Devon could feel himself instantly fill up with a hot, squishy fluid. The lust in Vincent's eyes had finally subsided as he roughly tore himself from Devon, causing the smaller male to scream out in agony. Vincent's lip curled as he got off of the bed and left the room, stalking off to another area in the house. Devon stared at the ceiling for a moment before he closed his eyes and whimpered, feeling his boyfriend's semen trickle slightly out of him and onto the sheets directly beneath him. He laid there with a full-on and extremely uncomfortable erection, unable to really do anything about it. He grudgingly wrenched himself off of the bed as he scampered to the bathroom as fast as his little legs could carry him. He slammed the door behind him and locked it as he sat down on the toilet seat. He sucked in the air through his gritted teeth as he grabbed a hold of his own pounding organ as he forced his hand to move up and down, jacking himself off just to rid himself of the uncomfortable feeling that was building inside of him. He groaned loudly as he moved his hand a little faster, crying out in a satisfied manner as he abruptly released all over himself. He wobbled over to the sink as he washed his hands, drying them immediately afterwards on the towel that was closest to him. He wiped off the toilet seat with some bathroom tissue before dispersing it into the bowl as he pressed down on the chrome lever, watching the material swirl around and dissolve before being sucked down into the pipes that would eventually lead into the unknown.

Devon unlocked the wooden door and pushed it open, rubbing his eyes as he wandered back into the bedroom. He slowly dressed himself as he rested his arms at his sides, becoming keenly aware of a dull and feeble crinkling sound. An invisible light bulb popped above his cranium as he reached his hand into his right pant pocket, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper. He unfolded it and stared at the letters and numbers beaming up at him as his fingers ran over the imprints and grooves thoughtfully. He nodded to himself as he shoved the section of napkin back into its usual place as he stepped forward, trying to figure out where Vincent had disappeared to.

Devon crept down the narrow hallway, looking for any given sign of life until he noticed Vincent sitting on the living room sofa, staring at the moving pictures scrolling across the television screen.

"Vincent?"

"What?," he drawled uninterestedly as he fastened a bathrobe more securely around his waist.

"May I leave?"

Vincent shot him a nasty look.

"No."

"Please? I—" Devon paused for a moment, thinking of exactly what he should say. Was he actually going to lie to Vincent of all people? He didn't want to take the risk, but if he didn't, how was he ever going to see Jake again? "—want to get a present for you," he added to his slight fragment.

Vincent broke out in loud laughter suddenly as he shook his head, scoffing.

"What exactly are you up to, you little shit?"

"Nothing!," Devon exclaimed as innocently as he could.

"Mmm hmm. A retarded six-year old could come up with a better fib than that."

"No, I'm serious! I want to go out and buy you a nice gift, to make up for breakfast!"

"You're not going anywhere. I'm still hungry and you're not getting out of making me breakfast."

"I'll make it up to you! Really, I will! I'll buy you something special to show you my gratitude for you and I'll make you whatever you'd like for breakfast to show my devotion! Please? It's all I ask, my love."

Vincent sighed, not liking this in the least bit.

"I still think you're up to something," he growled.

"No, baby. I'm not up to anything, I swear. I just want to get out of the house for a little while. Please? I'll do anything to make it up to you, anything at all! You just name it and I'll do it! Please? Just this one time, love?"

Vincent brought his fist down hard on the end table, which made Devon cower in fear.

"Come here."

Devon gulped loudly as he stepped into the living room and where Vincent was sitting as he suddenly found his shoes rather interesting.

"Look at me, you little asshole."

As soon as Devon met his gaze, Vincent's upper lip curled once more as he snarled, viciously back-handing Devon clear across the face.

"Now you can leave."

"Thank you, Vincent. I love you," Devon whispered as he turned and walked out of the small living area as tears dripped down his porcelain-like features.

"You best be buyin' me something good, you hear? And don't forget that you still owe me breakfast, you prick!"

Devon literally bolted clear out of the front door as tears ran down his face, his pride hurt and his cheek bruised. He only slowed down to a normal walking speed when he had made sure that he at least placed himself and the house a good block apart. His chest heaved as adrenaline surged through his veins as he attempted to catch his breath for just a mere moment. Devon ran a hand through his hair due to nervous habit more than anything as he let his tongue trail the perimeter of his small lips before he looked behind him, even though he had come to the assumption that there would be no one there. He forced his legs to extend forward as they obediently headed in his intended direction. He changed his regular walking pace into more of a trot as his sneakers barely skimmed over the concrete surface located directly beneath his frail form. He felt his hand hide in his pocket before re-emerging at last. The sound of the thin paper material crinkling in his palm brought a twisted smile to rest upon his mouth. It reassured him in a sense and brought him an odd sensation of comfort that welled up in him so much that he could feel it warming his insides, guts and all. His eyes swept across the surprisingly neat and miniscule writing as this information was processed and stored in his battered and abused brain. South 4th Street, huh? Thankfully Devon knew exactly where this location was and, also thankfully, it wouldn't take too long of a walk to get there. After he had allowed enough time to pass so that he could fully memorize the scripture, he let his clenched fist slowly retract until the paper was just laying there in the palm of his hand before a slight yet gentle breeze came along and took the stray piece of Subway napkin with it. Devon let his eyes flutter shut as he inhaled deeply, only allowing them to re-open after he had exhaled fully before continuing merrily on his way.

Only the rusted old cars and deteriorating property signified that the brown-haired youth had reached his destination at last. A house that captured his attention almost practically loomed over him, threatening to swallow him whole and to never spit him back out. This must have been where Jake lived.

Cautiously, Devon barged up the slanted driveway before crossing onto the yellowed grass that would otherwise be known as the "front yard" of the place. Devon could feel the soles of his shoes come down on a jagged edge suddenly. His brain processed this as a set of stairs as he instinctively clambered up what little of them there were. When he had discovered the very top, he hesitated, rather unsure of what he should do next. Perhaps he should just wait here and camp out on Jake's front porch until he decided to notice that he was there waiting for him? Devon shook his head, abandoning the idea completely. He didn't even know how often he left the comforts of his home, so standing out here waiting for him whenever it was convenient didn't sound like such a hot idea after all.

Looking around nervously, purposely making sure that nobody was watching his every move, Devon raised his arm as his fist met the surface of Jake's front door a few times before placing that arm at his side as he stared at the oaken slab, expecting it to come flying open at any given moment in time.

The distant sound of a lock being fumbled with caused Devon's body to quiver and shake suddenly, whether this was due to excitement or otherwise, nobody knew except for Devon Kampen himself. Then, right there, only a matter of a few steps away from him stood the blue-eyed beauty after the door had been opened fully, exposing him to the conditions of the world. Devon licked his lips hungrily as his vision greedily captured and treasured just what exactly he was witnessing. There, in the remarkable glory of it all stood the raven-haired boy as only jeans adorned him snuggly upon his waist. His pale and smooth chest and his lightly sculpted body heightened and aroused Devon's senses to so extreme of a climax that he could already feel his pants start to tighten considerably. But he wouldn't think about that now. That wasn't the reason he was here. Or was it? What had exactly compelled him to leave the comforts of his home and to wind up aimlessly on this gorgeous creature's front door step? Devon couldn't even answer that question, but he supposed that he would come to a conclusion sooner or later.

"Oh! Hey! I wasn't expecting you to arrive so soon or even today for that matter. Come in, come in."

Jake didn't have to tell him twice.

As the door was held open for him, Devon slipped sheepishly indoors, though not before stealing another glance of the other man.

"It's not much, but it's home, I guess."

"I think it's beautiful."

Despite the fact that the two-story living facility had refused to move out of the mid-seventies during which it was constructed (complete with puke green carpeting and bright orange housing accessories and all), there was an odd sense of security here. It was something that Devon didn't feel at home, so this was all very new and overwhelming to him.

"Eh, I don't know if I'd go out of my way to call it that," Jake said, chuckling softly. "Please, have a seat. You're making me nervous just standing there like that."

"Oh. Yes, certainly. Thank you. However, before I subject myself to doing such, would you mind telling me where your public utility room is?"

"You mean the bathroom? It's just down the hallway on the first door to your right."

Devon nodded appreciatively as he felt himself shift forward, though going to use the bathroom was of the least of his intentions. After concurring that Jake wasn't watching his every move, he crouched down and snuck into the kitchen (which was thankfully close by). He studied his surroundings carefully as he slowly and quietly approached one of the counters where most of the drawers were fastened to. Devon let his fingers snake around one of the lop-sided handles on the top-most drawer as he held his breath and yanked it open carefully. He peered over the poorly constructed mechanism as his eyes swept over the dingy silverware. He tilted his head and looked into the far right corner of the kitchen drawer as a glimmering object caught his eye. A devilish smile sprawled across his lips as he gingerly snatched the large steak knife, holding it close and dear to him as if it were the greatest thing to ever be stumbled upon in all of the history of mankind. He instantly let his thumb travel along the smooth surface of the worn piece of metal, only smiling in a satisfied manner as he felt something warm and sticky ooze down his hand and all the way to his forearm.

After pocketing his weapon of choice carefully, he snuck right out of the kitchen and into the bathroom. Devon stared at the cool, reflecting surface of the glass hanging on the wall unsurely before he reached down and twisted the knobs to the sink. The warm water crept into his freshly made wound, causing him to cringe as he clenched his teeth. He curiously watched as his blood mingled and tainted the water, morphing it into a dull pink color. He only turned off the pressure of the filtered water once he was sure that all of his excess blood had vanished from sight at last.

Devon strolled out of the bathroom and down the hallway before entering the living room where Jake was located. Flashing him an assuring smile, Devon placed himself down upon the orange cushions of the couch, conveniently placing him right next to his intended prey.

"You okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

"You sure? It just kinda took you a while and I just want to make sure that you're all right."

"Yes, I'm okay. Thank you very much for asking; that's very considerate of you. There aren't very many considerate people left in this world. Just be thankful that you are who you are."

Jake flashed the other a strange look as the compliment registered in his brain.

"Um, thanks."

He shifted his weight on the couch awkwardly as he avoided Devon's eyes. He could feel his gaze upon him even if he wasn't looking at him, those wild orbs burning holes through his very soul.

"Look, uh, I realize I've already asked you this question earlier, but how did you get that fake eye of yours?"

"What's it to you?"

"Well, to put things simply, I care about you. So, I only think it would be fair if you told me. If you don't really want to talk about it, then I understand, but I still believe that I should have a right to know."

Devon sighed pathetically as his hand itched to explore the depths of his pocket, wanting to take out that brilliant item from its place so he could show it to the whole world, but the thought the better of it at the last second.

"Well, in a nutshell, my boyfriend came home one night, drunk off his rocker. I had made the foolish mistake of partaking to question him just where he had been while he was flaunting a hunting knife he had just purchased for the time being. The only thing I can recall for the most part is him rushing toward me with that lethal blade in hand before it made complete contact with my left eye."

Jake gawked at him, his mouth gaping stupidly as he just let the information fully hit home.

"Did he get in trouble for it or anything?"

"No. He just called for an ambulance, blaming my condition at the time as a suicide attempt. After a few days, I had surgery, received a glass eye, and then I went back home."

Jake watched him in utmost shock as his lip curled against his own good will, obviously disgusted with what he had got done hearing.

"You went home with him, pretending that everything was peachy keen and fine and dandy and all of that shit when he did that to you?"

"What choice did I have?"

"You could have run away from it all, you could have tried to escape from the pain."

"There would have been nowhere for me to go," Devon stated flatly, growling slightly.

Jake could see the words forming mentally, but somehow, he couldn't let them out no matter how hard he tried.

"Why are you with that guy anyway?," he asked instead.

Devon glared at the long-haired man, but did his best to soften his facial expression after a while since he didn't want to offend Jake in any way possible.

"He reached out to me when my life was literally a living hell. Think of it as paying a debt, so to speak," Devon explained, grimacing. Those ocean blue eyes studied him closely, beckoning him to delve further into his past. "You see, Vincent and I, that's his name, by the way, had been friends ever since we were very small. We did everything together. You just name it and we did it. So, one day when we were considerably older, about sixteen, I do believe, Vincent confessed his true feelings toward me as our friendship was taken over by the demons of lust and desire. However, while everything appeared to be "fine and dandy" as you like to refer it as, this was not so in the real world. My home life was hellish. It had always been so for as long as I can remember. Anyway, one day when I was on the verge of turning seventeen, my step father finally lost it. He had always been very abusive and cruel to my mother as well as me in particular, but this day was very different. Apparently, somehow, somewhere, he had stumbled upon my relationship with Vincent which made him loathe me even more, so much in fact that it drove him past the boiling point. He went completely psychotic, almost going on a wild rampage as he beat my mother to the point where she was almost dead. When I had unsuccessfully tried to intervene, he started taking this out on me. Thankfully, Vincent was there at the time and he pulled me away from my step father, threatening him that he'd kill him if he ever laid so much as a finger upon me or my mother ever again. And then I was pulled into a world where I was promised that I would never be hurt again. My mother eventually gathered her nerve and finally divorced Phillip, my step father. Barely a week had passed and he was discovered alongside a country road with a bullet in his brain. I owe my very life to what Vincent had done for me, there's no doubt in my mind about that."

Jake stared down at the ugly shag carpeting as what he had just heard settled and stored permanently into his thoughts.

"And Vincent isn't living up to his full promise I'll take it? He's repeatedly hurting you, isn't he?"

"Nonsense. He would never do such a thing to me. He loves me and I love him and that's that. Period."

"You're in denial, admit it."

"I am not in denial! Vincent would never do such a thing to me! Ever!"

"Don't you see? You've been subjected to this for so long that you don't even realize what Vincent is doing to you is wrong! He's hurting you, I just know it! That's why you came over here, isn't it? Just to escape from the constant pain and suffering that you've been feeling year after year after year?"

Devon now took a particular interest in examining the poor quality of the carpeting as he shifted uncomfortably in his spot, doing his very best to avoid the raven-haired man's lethal gaze. He couldn't help himself but jump slightly as something warm and soft met his left cheek, brushing against it gingerly. His eyes slanted downward as he noticed human fingers stroking against his face affectionately. Devon could feel himself stare at the floor once again before he was distracted from doing this entirely. He felt his head pivot on his neck as he was brought face to face with the gorgeous creature had had met only about an hour or so ago.

"I don't want you going back there ever again; I won't let you."

Devon gasped, his heart pounding wildly within his rib cage as a long index finger traced his lips before it went away for good. Before he even had much of a chance to process what exactly was going on here, a pair of lush and tender lips twisted and molded their way to his own as they almost morphed together as one pair. Devon's wide and exotic eyes bored into the other's bright blue ones before they just disappeared from view altogether. Devon could hear Jake cry out into his mouth suddenly as he instantly recoiled, trying to figure out just what had happened. Devon watched with an odd sort of curiosity as Jake let his bright orbs wander down his own bare torso, gasping again in a horrified manner as he found a foreign object that was viciously jammed into him.

"What the fuck did you to do me?," he questioned, his voice hardly above a mere whisper as he frantically tried to remove the steak knife embedded in his stomach with all of the energy that he could possibly muster but failed miserably trying to dislocate it.

"Dearest Jacob, you simply don't understand. I have to keep you to myself, hidden in secrecy so that no one will ever know. I don't want you to be taken away from me. Ever. I have to keep you safe, Jacob. I just have to. You understand, don't you?"

As Jake struggled desperately for words, he cried out loudly as tears flooded down his face and twisted screams filled the room. Devon pulled the knife down hard, creating a long and deep gash all the way down Jake's lightly sculpted middle. Devon let his fingers probe about in the wound thoughtfully for a moment before taking the knife into his grasp again as he held it high over his head. Jake flailed around and tried to move off of the decrepit couch or just tried to move a limb in general just so he could feebly make an attempt to kick Devon so it would distract him for a moment, but it wasn't worth the effort. Devon brought the knife down hard as it penetrated through the skin surrounding Jake's chest wall which served mainly as a source of protection for one of the body's most vital and precious organs. Again Devon reared up again and again as the blade entered deeper and further into the wound, potentially damaging the handsome youth's heart even more. Devon grunted as he forcefully stabbed him over and over as blood sprayed everywhere, covering the once beautiful teenager in layers of gore and despair. The light brown-haired boy cried out furiously as he brought down the blade and roughly yanked it down Jake's slowly deceasing body, easily severring muscle and bone as he went. Devon only stopped his wild antics once he was for certain that Jake was no longer breathing. He crudely cast the instrument aside as he wiped his forehead. He panted loudly, his chest heaving greatly as he stared down at the butchered mess of body located directly beneath him. He smiled appreciatively at the horror-filled eyes and gaping hole as he gradually lowered himself to the massacred corpse as he placed a kiss on its lips, loving how the warmth was rapidly fading from them. Devon nuzzled against the cold face temporarily before he sat up and let his feet touch the floor as he hoisted himself off of the sofa. As he eventually found himself standing in the doorway of Jake's home, he turned around unsurely as his brain fully grasped the reality of the situation. Dear God Almighty, what had he done?

As the cool wetness that tainted his cheeks sparked a certain sense of familiarity to him, Devon turned his back to the past as he suddenly prepared himself for the future. He bolted down the jagged and worn sidewalk as heavy drops of liquid escaped him. His crimson red stained clothing warned other to get away from him as people literally seemed to obey this command. The way he tore down the narrow concrete path and through slight crowds of innocent by-standers sort of mimicked a pebble being thrown into a pond, ripple effect and all.

Devon could feel himself barge through the heavy white door that was connected to the run-down shop of his personal choosing. A balding, middle-aged man flashed him an awkward glance, but Devon didn't care. Right now he had to buy Vincent the gift he had been promising him.

"Can I help you with anything, sir?"

That voice, that annoying mosquito-like whine of a voice invaded Devon and shredded his very soul, but he tried to ignore that for now. He had more important things to focus on for the time being.

"Yes. I would like to buy that gun right there," Devon ordered, pointing to a small handgun hidden behind a thin barrier of glass.

"This one here?," the man at the shop inquired.

"Yes."

"All right. Can I see your I.D., sir?"

Devon rooted around in his back pocket as his fingers enclosed around his wallet as he removed it and then took out his state I.D. card from the mysterious depths of pockets and folds as he shoved it toward the man.

"Thank you," the man grumbled after studying the flimsy card for a split second or so.

"I'd also like to get some bullets with that," Devon announced as he shoved the I.D. card back into its usual resting place before handing the man a credit card.

After the transaction was made, Devon placed his scrawny signature onto the store copy of the receipt before the man behind the counter looked it over, nodding gruffly in approval once everything was to his liking.

"Thank you and come again," he said as he handed Devon a rather small and petite bag which contained none other than the two items he had just purchased. Devon waved aside the associate's comment absent-mindedly as he stalked out of the store and outside. However, once the middle-aged man was sure he was gone, he picked up the phone and dialed the number that reached the police. There was something peculiar about that guy just now and he was pretty for sure it had something to do with that substance that looked horribly like blood that was splattered all over his clothes..

Before long, Devon had walked up the squalid stairs that lead to none other than his home as he cautiously pried open the door, though making sure that the bullets were where they were supposed to be.

"About fuckin' time you showed up."

Devon for once ignored this remark completely as he fished around inside of the plastic bag before placing the handgun directly on the dining room table. He could see Vincent slither toward him with interest as he studied just what exactly was on the scratched wooden surface before him.

"Do you want it?," Devon asked earnestly.

"Of course I fucking want it!," Vincent answered, completely appalled that Devon would be asking such a ridiculous question.

"Then you can fucking have it."

Devon snatched the gun from its very place as he instantly pointed it at Vincent, firing at will. Devon smirked coldly as Vincent shook and quivered spasmodically on the beige carpeting as blood oozed from the wound in his chest as it poured all over the floor, lapping at his body hungrily. Vincent wasn't going anywhere.

"Is that blood all over my fucking brand new carpet?!," Devon mimicked horribly as he turned away, laughing maniacally.

Devon let his arm rest at his side as he casually strolled down the hallway, smiling as he made an immediate right into the bedroom. He let his eyes flutter shut as he sighed deeply, smiling still as the cold metallic mouth kissed his forehead reassuringly as he pulled the trigger.

The End