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jooskyimo · 1 year ago

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Jared: "Ethan"

(content tags: NSFW, M+M, language, f-slur/homophobic language [in a 'joking' context], obsession, emotional abuse, dissociation, murder)

PART ONE, THE BUS

June 15, 2017.

There's this guy on his phone standing near me. He looks so pretty. I mean, he's facing away from me, so I haven't seen much of his face, but he has cool hair. It's red. Never really had a ginger guy before.

I think I'm gonna make a move. We'll see what happens, and I'll make a new entry later.

I closed my notebook and put it back in my backpack. As I looked back up at the man, he looked over at me, and I gave him a friendly smile and a wave. He seemed to giggle a bit, and he waved back. He really was pretty. That made me smile, genuinely this time, and I broke our eye contact to reach down and grab my camera from my backpack.

I always loved the way old camera footage looked, and the experience of using tapes to record, so when my friend Henry gave me his old Sony Handycam, I was pretty excited. I knew immediately what I wanted to use it for. I remember thinking that it was sad that Alan was gone too early to get a tape of him, but then I realized it might be cool to use it for these more, for lack of a better term, casual victims. Having a whole collection, one for each of them. Hell, it might pose a nice mystery for future detectives or true crime fanatics if the first tape was called "Victim 2".

When I looked back up, he was looking away again, which was ideal because I had already equipped the camera. I started recording and zoomed in on him, now talking to someone standing next to him. His smile really was beautiful. Maybe... Maybe even better than Alan's. I suddenly got butterflies, a feeling I hadn't gotten since that night with Alan, almost 2 years ago now. I felt like a kid again, crushing over boys in math class. Why do I feel so weird about this guy? Why is he the only one who's making me feel this spark again?

Holy shit...

I'm falling in love.

He looked back over at me, and every part of me wanted to toss the camera in my bag, but for some reason I didn't. I just sat there like an idiot, watching through the camera as his confused expression turned into another laugh. As he started to walk over to me, I was finally able to control my body again and put down the camera.

He got to my seat, and sat down next to me. "What's that for?"

"Huh?" I stared at him with my mouth slightly agape, probably looking like an idiot.

He pointed at the device in my hands. "Making a movie?"

I chuckled nervously. "Yeah. I guess."

He put out his hand. "Well, my name's Ethan. You know, for the end credits." I shook his hand, still in shock and awe. The person I was just fawning over was right here next to me. And he was gorgeous. Freckled skin, blue eyes, a beautiful smile...

He was perfect.

"Well? You gonna tell me your name, or are you gonna stare at me and hold my hand for the rest of the ride?"

"Oh. No, sorry." I let go of his hand. "I'm Jared."

"Jared. Hmm." He leaned back. "I like it."

I must have blushed, because he smirked and looked pretty proud of himself.

"So, what are you recording for, Jared?" There was an emphasis on my name, as if he was trying to use the word itself as a joke. I never was a submissive guy, never into degrading or anything, but man, this guy's teasing me was really turning me on.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

"Oh, y'know, just... Stuff. Regular, normal stuff." Dude, what? Think before you talk.

"Well, Jared, if I'm gonna be in the final cut of your 'regular, normal stuff', then I'd like to know what it is."

"It was a dare from a friend. Do a backflip and get 50 bucks, or record someone on the bus. Almost broke my neck, and well..." I gestured at the camera. "Missed out on 50 bucks. And now... Y'know."

He smiled. "Yeah, sure. Well, I hope your 'friend' isn't planning on using that footage for, uh... Personal use." He nudged me with his elbow and smiled. I stuttered trying to respond. "Calm down. I'm kidding. Oh shit, this is my stop." He stood up. "Seeya around, Jared." He waved before leaving the bus with the person from before.

I watched him and his friend walk down the street and turn the corner to a shopping center.

I opened my notebook and made a note of what stop he had got off the bus at, and the street he'd turned on.

Damn. Should’ve asked for his number.

I knew I couldn't lose him. 2 years of never being able to find the perfect guy, and then this dude just appears out of nowhere?

I wanted him.

I needed him.

Update. Holy shit.

He came up to me. He asked my name. He didn't get mad at me. He was so nice and funny and amazing...

It's him. It has to be. He's the next one.

PART TWO, THE SHOPPING CENTER

June 16, 2017

Oh my god. He's here again. Thank god. I've been riding the bus so long it's on the third loop of its route. I started to think he wouldn't be taking the bus today.

He's dressed even better than yesterday. Is it for me?...

"What's up?"

I slammed my notebook shut and looked over. My face was definitely red.

"You have a diary?" He smiled.

"Heh. Hi, Ethan."

He leaned his head on my shoulder. "Can I see?"

I gulped and opened to another page when nothing too weird was going on in my life. Just some stuff about how hard work is and how tired I am. He grabbed the book, and read while quietly saying the words out loud to himself and smiling softly, seeming genuinely interested in my rant about customer service.

I took the book back. "It's... I just..."

"Dude, I have a diary too. It's fine." He laughed.

"It... It's a healthy habit."

"Yeah."

We looked at each other for a while, and for a second I swear I felt him getting closer... Slowly, barely noticable, but he was. I wanted to kiss him so bad...

"Yo, Ethan! Shopping center! Lesgo!" A tall man with brown hair and a similar smile to Ethan's shouted across the bus, waving at Ethan.

"Oh shit. Uh, I gotta..." He got up, and paused. "Eh, fuck it. You wanna come shopping with us?" He held his hand out. "Not every day you run into an interesting stranger." I smiled and nodded, but bypassed the gesture and stood up, making a beeline for the door.

I wasn't used to regular human interaction, and I doubt I ever will be.

I followed him and his friend, who introduced himself as Gavin but told me to call him G, and we found ourselves in some store that had the same feel as a Hot Topic. I don't remember if it was a Hot Topic or not - I was far too busy staring at Ethan to care.

As we walked around the store, and Gavin and Ethan were grabbing anything and everything that they laid their eyes on, I became increasingly aware of a weird feeling starting to make itself known. It was something close to jealousy, but something else was hiding behind it. Anger? No. I didn't feel angry at all. It was like... Calmness. I felt jealous, but not like I always did where it made me feel like I'd kill the next person who pissed me off. No, this was like a strange comfortability. I felt like a third wheel, following behind the two friends who were joking and smiling with each other, but somehow I knew Ethan didn't feel the same way about Gavin as he did about me. It didn't make sense, I knew that. We hadn't even known each other for 24 hours. But I just knew. I could feel it. I smiled to myself and kept walking.

An hour and what had to be at least 300$ of merchandise later, they were done and I followed them out of the store to a park near the shopping center. We made our way to a pretzel stand next to some benches, one of which Gavin immediately ran to to claim our seats, laughing as an approaching couple gave him dirty looks and turned to find another bench, and Gavin responded by laughing at them.

"Look at the menu, Jared."

"Huh?"

Ethan smiled. "Aren't you hungry?"

I nodded. "Sure. I guess I'll get a pretzel. With cheese sauce."

Ethan turned and ordered, and I checked my phone. I didn't have any messages, as usual, so I pretended to be busy until we could sit down.

"Thanks."

"Of course." Ethan gave me my food and started eating. "Oh my god," He moaned after taking a bite. I'm sure I don't even need to tell you how it affected me. "It's so fucking good. You sure you don't want food, G?"

"I'm good, man! I don't wanna eat today. Fasting. We're going to that buffet tomorrow, remember? Wanna get my money's worth, man."

"Oh shit. I totally blanked on that, dude." He turned to me. "J, you like sushi?"

"Yeah, I guess." Sushi definitely isn't one of my favorite foods. Not by a long shot. But I'd genuinely take a bullet to the face for this guy, so scarfing down a plate of raw fish didn't sound so bad. I looked at the bags of stuff they'd just bought. "How can you guys just... Buy all this stuff? You didn't even think about it."

"You judging me?" Ethan raised his voice in a joking way.

"What? No! Absolutely not."

"Well, I mean, not every college student has the money to spend like we do. You probably think I've got rich parents and I'm a spoiled little bitch, huh?" I stared at him and didn't answer. He laughed and punched me in the shoulder. "I'm joking. No, but seriously, G's dad is insanely loaded. He gives me an allowance every week. And it's nothing compared to what G gets. Ain’t that right, G?"

"Yeah, man. It's awesome. I could hook you up, man, if you want some."

"Why're you talking about it like drugs?" Ethan laughed and Gavin got up and stood like he was about to fight someone, his fists up in front of him and his feet planted firmly on the grass.

"What're you trying to say, faggot? I could sell drugs, man!"

"No you couldn't, pussy." Ethan got up too, and they started fake fighting.

"Yuh huh, man! I'm tough!"

"You're a pussy."

They threw insults and light punches, and it ws pretty entertaining, but it got more entertaining when they were done and Ethan walked back towards the bench and took off his shirt. He was absolutely stunning, sweating and panting softly. He must have noticed me staring, because he tossed his shirt over my head and puched my arm again.

"You checking me out, Jared?" I grabbed the shirt off my head and looked at him, met with his smile. He was sitting closer to me than I thought, our faces as close as they were when we were on the bus earlier. He fixed my hair, then he looked at my lips, then back into my eyes. I fully expected a kiss, and the feeling of butterflies grew in anticipation, but instead he reached his hand up and wiped my cheek with his finger and licked it. "Mmm. Cheese sauce." He smirked before getting back up and running towards Gavin, tackling him to the ground and screaming.

I put my backpack over my lap, and took my notebook out.

I don't even know what to write about what just happened. He's definitely flirting. And it's a little intense. But not in a bad way. I feel so good right now. I can't believe what's happening today. Holy fucking shit.

He invited me to dinner tomorrow. Should I make a move? I usually just would, but he makes me nervous. It feels so weird.

We'll see how this goes.

PART THREE, THE KISS

June 17, 2017

I've never been this excited for a date before. I mean, he didn't say it was a date, and yeah, his friend will be there, but whatever. In my mind, it's a date.

I'm gonna try to get him in bed tonight. I know it sounds fast, but god damn it, I've never needed a guy like this. He drives me insane.

Wish me luck, diary.

I closed my notebook and started getting ready. I'd spent the last of what little extra money I had on a white button up shirt, which I wore with jeans and Converse sneakers.

Man, I seriously need to take Gavin up on his offer.

As I was about to get on the bus, I heard someone call my name. I turned and saw Gavin and Ethan running up to me. They said hello and we got on, sitting together in the very back. I was next to the window, as I always am, and Ethan sat right next to me.

"Didn't know you lived in this area." I said, taking off my beanie as the bus started moving.

"Yeah. Didn't realize I was so close." Well, we are definitely close. I scooted the tiniest bit closer to him, trying to close the small gap. "Gavin doesn't live here, though. His house is over on Mango Blossom."

"Wow. Rich people houses. I mean, makes sense."

"Oh yeah!" Gavin leaned forward so he could see me from behind Ethan. "J, you want that allowance I mentioned?"

"Oh. Dude. That would be awesome."

"No problem my man. I got you. My dad's gonna wanna meet you first. But here, take this." He took out his wallet and handed me a hundred bucks.

"Damn, this much? In cash? Aren't you scared of getting mugged?" I chuckled.

"Nah. That's pocket money, man. Plus, the chance of me being mugged isn't higher than anybody else's as long as I dont go around flashing my money or looking all wealthy and shit. S'why I dress like you two."

"Hey!" Ethan punched him.

"Kidding!"

"Yeah, sure man." He turned back to me, putting his hand on my upper thigh. I didn't expect it at all, and it got me excited. It was a little hard to hide, especially since my backpack was over by Gavin, so I adjusted my coat.

He smirked at me. "Saw that, J."

Fuck.

"I... It's not..."

"It's okay, man." He laughed, then leaned closer, lowering his voice and moving his hand higher on my thigh. "I meant to."

"Oh my god."

He took his hand off of me. "Oh. Sorry, Jared, I thought-"

"No! I, um... It wasn't a bad 'oh my god', it's just... Uh..."

Before I could get any more words out, I found his body pressed against mine, his hands on the back of my head pulling me closer, and our lips touched. I felt electricity shooting through my body. We shared a deep kiss before he leaned back in his seat and pumped his fists.

"Whoo! God damn! I have been wanting to do that since yesterday. Fuck." He looked back at me. "You are an amazing kisser."

Gavin clapped and whistled, and the couple other people on the bus started to look back at us with judging looks. "What a show! Encore!"

"Shut the fuck up, G." Ethan closed his eyes, relaxing and grabbing my hand, interlocking our fingers. "You're amazing." He looked at me. "Oh... I'm sorry for not asking before I did that. I should've, but... The moment was..."

"No. Trust me. I get it." I smiled. "You make me feel the same way."

"Faggot." Gavin fake coughed, lighting a cigarette. Ethan slapped it out of his hand. "Hey, what the fuck, man?"

"Not allowed on the bus, G!"

"Oh, but you fags can make out and grind on each other? Come on. You're practically inside each other." I knew he was just making fun of us, but it made me briefly fantasize about Ethan, and that made me harder than I already was.

"We fucking kissed for like 3 seconds, asshole."

"Whatever." He leaned down to pick up his cigarette. "S'my last one, man... Damn..." He grumbled and trailed off.

"Sorry he keeps saying that, by the way, Jared. Just how he is. He's joking, don't worry. He isn't gonna hate crime you or anything. Honestly..." He leaned in and whispered. "I think he might be closeted. Y'know. Got internal homophobia or somethin'. But hey. That's just my theory."

"Fuck are you saying about me, Ethan?"

"Nothing! Jeez!"

Jesus. He's a lot more brave than I thought.

I really don't understand why I like him so much. He's nothing like Alan. Not reserved at all. And definitely not submissive. So why the fuck am I into him? He makes me feel so weird. Like I don't even want to be dominant anymore.

I don’t care. I'm obsessed with him, and that's all I've been looking for. I need him to stay interested in me. If he asks me to wear a fucking collar with his name on it or some shit, so be it.

I love him.

PART FOUR, RAW MEAT

Same day. Just later. It's weird how much more I'm writing in here now. 2 pages in a day? I'm gonna need a new notebook soon.

Anyway. We just sat down at the buffet. Gotta be honest, this place looks fancy as fuck. Even for Gavin.

God, I fucking need Ethan so bad. I don't care anymore. I want him to tie me up and edge me till I cry. I want him to choke me while he fucks me. I want him to overstimulate and torture me. I'd never say something like that about someone before, but damn, man. He's just so tall, so assertive, so fucking hot...

I bet his dick is huge.

"What're you writing about? You look really... Invested in it." Ethan smiled, leaning over from the other side of the table to look.

I pulled the book away and shoved it in my backpack. "Nothing. Just, y'know. Journal entry."

He smirked. "Sure. Journaling in the middle of a buffet."

"Well, what else would I be writing?"

"Some fucking gay fantasy about Ethan, probably." Gavin chuckled, sitting in his seat and setting a down a plate full of food. An old couple turned their heads from a nearby booth. "Mind your fuckin' business." The couple looked away and whispered to each other, giving Gavin judging looks. "Jesus. No goddamn privacy in public."

"You just figured that out? Wow, good job!" Ethan blew the end of the paper wrapper from his straw at Gavin.

"Fuck off. Else I'll have to beat your ass again."

"Oh, sure. You beat my ass." They both laughed, and Ethan looked at me, his smile fading, and he rested his head on his hand. "You don't laugh much, do you?"

"Oh... I mean... I don't know. Been a rough past few years. I'm just trying to get used to feeling good, I guess."

"Hmm. Well, start by getting some food. How do you like your fish, man? Like it raw? Or like, baked? Or-"

"'Course he likes it raw." Gavin interrupted through a mouthful of rice.

"Shut the fuck up, asshole." Ethan barked, pushing him so hard he almost fell off the bench. I let out a quiet laugh. "Aw, see? You can laugh. Just gotta make shitty gay jokes, I guess." He smiled. "Come on. Let's see what they got." He got up and took my hand, leading me to the food.

"I do, by the way." I responded quietly, starting to pile different sushi rolls onto my plate.

"You do what?"

I hesitated for a moment. "Like it raw." Obviously, I'd never taken it raw. Actually, I'd only tried bottoming a couple times, and those were with toys. But I did like it when someone else was taking me raw, so I wasn't fully lying.

I couldn't look at him after saying that, so I kept looking for food to add to my already overloaded plate.

Ethan paused, and I looked back towards him. "Jesus fucking Christ, Jared." He put his plate on the counter and took a step toward me, grabbing my waist. "You trying to get me to take you home early? 'Cuz you know I don't have a problem taking you into the bathroom right now. And if I do, you'll be walking out with bruised knees." He smirked, looking down at me. I blushed and smiled to myself, and he let go of me and we walked back to the table.

I didn't even taste the food. Didn't hear any of their conversations or any of Gavin's dumb jokes, either. I just couldn't stop thinking about Ethan, and what he'd said about taking me to the bathroom...

I couldn't stop thinking about Ethan.

Back on the bus. Gavin's almost fucking passed out in the back. Pretty sure Ethan's taking me to his house. Cool.

PART FIVE, SCREAM

I don't know what Ethan wants to do with me, but I'm fighting the thoughts about hurting him as much as I can. Part of me Most of me wants to do to him exactly what I did to Alan; tie him up, grind on him till he cums, slit his throat, fuck his body... Eat him.

But the rest of me is telling me not to.

It's so weird for me. Loving people. Why am I like that? Why do I have that urge to murder the people I'm attracted to? Why the fuck is killing people so hot to me? Never really asked myself that.

And now I know why. I feel like shit now. I'm gonna just stop thinking about it and hope the night ends well: with me swallowing Ethan's load. And who knows? Maybe I will kidnap him and torture him or something. We'll see.

"You gonna keep writing in your diary, or you wanna cuddle?" Ethan said, walking out of his kitchen with two cups of hot chocolate and setting them on the coffee table. He sat on the couch next to me and wrapped one of his arms around my shoulders as he searched for a movie on his TV.

"Sorry. Lot of stuff happened today. Lots to write down." I put my belongings on the floor and leaned back into his arm.

"You seem like a horror movie guy, huh? Like 'Scream'?"

"Hot guys covered in blood? Absolutely."

He huffed a laugh and put on the movie. Of course, I didn't pay any attention to it. Too busy thinking about Ethan, as usual.

Fuck, I'm so hard...

"Hey, uh... Where's the bathroom?"

"Just down that hall, first door on the right."

"Thanks."

I walked down the hall and into the bathroom, locking the door. I looked in the mirror and sighed deeply.

Am I really gonna jerk off in his bathroom? I mean, I have to, right? I don't want to go back out like this... God, I fucking suck.

Before I could unzip my pants, I heard Ethan yell my name.

I ran back into the living room, to find Ethan standing by my bag, holding my notebook open to today's page.

"What the fuck is this? 'Slit his throat'? 'Eat him'?! The fuck is this, Jared?"

I stared back at him, unable to respond.

"Jared! Fucking explain this shit! Were you gonna fucking kill me?!"

"Ethan... I-I didn't mean..."

"No. Don't fucking do that. Just tell me what this means. What is this? What is wrong with you?"

"I'm sorry, Ethan."

He grabbed my bag and shoved it into my arms, then pushed me out the front door. "Fuck outta my house. Don't call me. Don't come to my house. Don't fucking follow me around. Should've seen it as a red flag when the first fucking thing you did was record me on the bus. Fuck off, Jared." He slammed the door.

I must've spent a good hour or so sitting in his front yard and looking into his window, watching him pace around as he yelled to Gavin on the phone. Eventually, after I was done crying and Ethan had shut off all the lights and presumably gone to his room, I left.

Fuck. Fucking fuck. What do I do? God damn it. I shouldn't have left it open. Fuck, I shouldn't have even written that shit. Who writes shit like that? Who thinks shit like that?

Shit, what is wrong with me???

Fuck. He was the one, man. Fuck.

Fuck!

PART SIX, LETTER

Okay. I just got home. I don't fucking know what I'm gonna do, but I know I need to get him back.

Maybe I could tell him it was a prank? No, that's a horrible idea. Fucking idiot.

God, I wish I could just go back to 3 hours ago. I'm actually the fucking worst.

No. I'm not that bad. It's not my fault, right? I can't control my own thoughts. It's just how I am. No shame in that.

Okay. I need to actually come up with something.

He said don't call. He didn't say shit about letters... I'll send him a letter.

Yeah. I'll tell him...

Fuck. What do I even say??? Fuck it. I'll just figure it out as I go.

Done. Told him to meet me at the park.

I mean... It's not an awful idea.

I'll meet him at the park, and... Talk to him. Yeah.

We'll just talk.

But I'll take some of my supplies. Just in case.

I'm gonna go deliver the letter.

Wish me luck, journal.

PART SEVEN, PARK

June 18, 2017

I really hope he shows up. I don't want this to be like me and Alan. I want Ethan to genuinely want me.

I want to keep him for myself, and I want him to like it.

But if this ends up going the same way Alan did... I want to at least try to keep him alive longer, because I regret the early ending with Alan so, so bad.

I can't mess this up.

I sat on a bench near the wooded area of the park, constantly turning my head and searching the paths for Ethan.

I had doubted he'd show from the second I had the idea, but I especially doubted it now it was almost 7 in the afternoon. I'd been sat there all day, not eating, or drinking, or moving at all, just waiting.

You could never even begin to imagine the relief I felt when I saw a tall figure in a coat approaching, and I recognized it as Ethan. I also felt extremely nervous.

I expected a punch to the face and him screaming in my face and calling me a stalker or something, but instead, he sat calmly and quietly on the bench beside me, almost as if he hadn't even noticed I was there. As if he wasn't even here for me.

But to my relief, and slight terror, he was. After a long wait, he broke the cold silence.

"Why did you want to meet, Jared?"

He didn't look at me. He just looked forward, towards the lake. I couldn't see his face past his coat's hood, but I saw his breath when he spoke. I honestly hadn't even realized how cold it was until that very moment.

"I wanted... To say sorry, I guess."

"That’s it?"

"And that... I love you."

He scoffed, still not even glancing in my direction. In fact, he turned his head even further the other way, now looking in the direction of a swing set a few hundred feet to the side of our bench.

"I really fucking do, Ethan. And I'm genuinely so sorry I wrote that stuff about you. It's just... I write shit like that a lot. It's kind of a way to vent. It's all fantasy. I wouldn't hurt you, I would never-"

"I know, man." He finally looked at me, his nose and cheeks rosy and his eyes watered slightly from the cold, making them twinkle under the streetlights and the moon. He looked so beautiful. More than he ever had. And it made me feel bad about what I had done to him. Genuinely bad. I never felt that before. 100% genuine remorse for making a person feel the way I had made him feel. And it made me hang my head and stare down at my foot as I tapped it against the cold sidewalk below.

"I know you wouldn't do that stuff. It's just..." He paused again, and I looked at him. "Fuck, man. I really liked you. Well, I still do." That made me smile. He saw my smile, and smiled back, but it wasn't the smile he usually had. It was downturned. False and saddened. "You disappointed me. That isn't an easy thing to come back from. At least for me."

He scooted closer to me. "Listen. I don't want you to think I'm some vanilla gay who hasn't ever experimented. That's all Gavin." We both laughed a little at that. "I do think that that... Stuff... Has its place. It can be hot, y'know? Rape play, knife play. All that. But seriously, you writing that stuff about me before we'd even had a genuine one-on-one about each other was not cool."

I nodded. "I understand. Fuck, I'm so sorry, Ethan, I'm-"

He pulled me into a hug. "It's okay. I forgive you. Just..." He let go and leaned back, but kept a hand on my shoulder. "Let's talk about it first, man, okay? You can write all the shit you want, say all the shit you want, do all the shit you want. I'm okay with it. But talk to me about it first. You wouldn't want to find out that I was writing stuff like that about you without you knowing, would you?" I shook my head. Obviously, it was a lie. One of the things I'd always dreamed of was having someone like me do the things I do, to me. But I didn't feel like now was the best time to let him know how crazy I was.

He nodded, and pulled me into a hug again, this one longer than the first. "I think I love you too, Jared."

I cuddled him closely and we didn't let go for a while. In fact, we didn't really let go. It just became... Not a hug. We inched closer, hugged tighter, then I ended up sitting on his lap, then his arms moved lower, and he used them to push me down onto him so he could grind up against me.

"Are you sure...?"

"There's nobody here. And I don't care either way. I'm fucking horny." He smiled, unbuckling his pants and pushing them down a bit, along with his boxers. I looked down. His cock was just like I imagined. He was cut, and 7 or 8 inches, and it was so pretty and perfect...

"Warm me up?" He smiled, and it was genuine this time. I nodded excitedly, and stood quickly to pull down my pants and boxers as well, then sat back in his lap.

He spat in his hand, and rubbed it all over his cock, throwing his head back and groaning. "Fuck, Jared..." Hearing him say my name like that did something to me. I already wanted this, but that made me crave it. I felt more desperate for him that I'd ever felt for anything, ever. He lifted his head back up and looked into my eyes, putting his fingers in his mouth and slowly sucking them, moaning and laughing, sticking his tongue out and showing me how deep he could finger-fuck his own mouth...

Fuck, I love this. Holy fucking shit.

Finally, he pulled his fingers out of his mouth, and reached down to press them against my hole.

"Oh, fuck!" My back arched and I gasped.

"Mhm, you like that?" He purred, his voice souding even deeper than usual. I whimpered and nodded. He pushed a finger in and I collapsed, falling into him, my arms around his shoulders. "Yeah? You like that, don't you, little slut?" He asked softly in my ear, his breath hot against my skin and making me shiver.

I felt my cock kick, and precum dripped out and onto his lower stomach. "Oh my god. Please say that again. Please. Please, fuck..."

He hummed and pushed in deeper, pressing against a spot that made my head spin. "My little fucking slut."

"Fuck, Ethan, I might-"

He moved his free hand to my cock and held it tightly at the base. "Not yet, baby. I wanna mess with you. I wanna fuck you up."

"Do whatever you want to me. Please. Anything. I need you so bad, Ethan, please." I begged, whimpering as I lightly rubbed my cock against his.

"Yeah, frot that pretty cock against mine, slut. Fuck." It felt so amazing. His dick was so warm and wet, and combined with his moans and dirty talking, I almost came all over him. But before I got too close, as if he knew, he grabbed my waist and stood me up in front of him. "Okay. We gotta take this home. I know what I said but I just realized I'd rather not get arrested."

I nodded. "Yeah... That's a good idea." I panted, dressing myself and walking with him to the bus stop.

We had a hard time getting into his house on account of the fact that we didn't stop kissing. We stumbled into his living room and fell onto the couch, and Ethan pulled off both our clothes.

"Fuck. You're just... Amazing." He said breathlessly, his hands roaming over my skin as I straddled him. "So hot."

"Thank you. You are too." I responded, leaning down to keep kissing him. After a moment, he reached down, grabbed both of our cocks, and started stroking. I felt like I was going to explode. "Please..." I repeated the word, whimpering between quick, deep kisses.

"Please what, baby?" He smirked against my lips. I moaned and shuddered at the sound of him calling me that.

"Please. I need you inside me." He groaned, leaning his head back, his pace quickening. "No! Stop, please, Ethan, I'm gonna-"

"Just a little more, baby. I know you can hold back." He raised his other hand to my chest, and slid it up to my neck, wrapping his hand tightly around it. He looked me deeply in the eyes, a sadistic flash in them that I hadn't seen before. "You fucking love that, don't you? You love being my little bitch."

Something about that word. Him calling me that. It felt so bad, but so good. I hated being degraded, but from him it was the most pleasing thing I'd ever experienced. It made my brain melt, and led to a very confusing orgasm.

"Fuck, Ethan, m'cumming!.." I cried out, slightly choking from his grip on my neck. I grabbed onto his shoulders tightly as I felt myself trembling as I shot cum all over his cock and stomach.

He smiled, the sadisctic look only growing stronger. "God. You're such a good boy for me, Jared." He kept stroking, his pace fast and steady.

"Ethan, please! I can't... I can't do it..." I closed my eyes tightly, begging for him to end the extreme overstimulation I was feeling.

He stopped and loosened his grip on my neck, and I panted, trying hard to catch my breath. Just when I thought he was giving me a break, I suddenly felt him force himself into me, and I made a loud, pained noise.

"Ah! Too much, too much, please..."

Hearing the sincerity in my voice, he immediately let go of my neck and reached up to cup my cheek, that look in his eyes replaced with genuine concern. "Sorry baby. I-I didn't mean to do it so fast. Are you okay?"

I nodded slowly, leaning into his touch. "It... Hurt, but it didn’t feel bad. I think it's okay."

"Alright. Just... Tell me when it's okay for me to move, okay?" I hummed a confirmation, and closed my eyes, processing the situation.

He really cares. Holy shit.

I opened my eyes, giving a small nod. "You can move. Just go slow."

He slowly pulled out, then pushed back in.

"Mmm. Slower."

He did it again, more gently.

"Good."

He kept going, and after a bit he'd sped up a lot more, but I didn't care to tell him to slow down again. He was trying his best, and it felt really, really fucking good. And I didn't wanna interrupt the sounds coming from him, either. They were amazing. So fucking filthy, and yet almost angelic at the same time. Especially towards the end.

"Fuck! Baby, I'm gonna fucking cum." He moaned loudly, a soft whimpering sound following it. I sat up straight, and started riding him, letting him enjoy himself without working any harder than he already had. My leg muscles burned like hell, but it was so worth it.

"Mm! Cumming! Fuck, let me fill you up, good boy..." He grabbed my hair with one hand, pulling me in to kiss him as he came. His moans filled my mouth, and I had to try so hard not to let myself get close to cumming again. "God... That was... You were incredible." He gasped, finally pulling away from the kiss.

I collapsed onto him, and he wrapped his arms around me. "Thank you. I wouldn't have wanted to lose my virginity to anyone else, Ethan..." I mumbled, my head still foggy from the pleasure.

"What? I thought you said you'd been with guys before?"

"Hmm?"

"At dinner. You said you liked taking dick raw."

"Oh. Yeah. I was kind of lying. I just wanted to say something to make you attracted to me."

He laughed, and the movement of his chest against me made me smile. "Well, you didn't need to do that, trust me. I already liked you."

"I'm so happy right now, Ethan."

"Me too, J."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"Please don't ever leave me."

He paused for a moment. My heart started racing, and I thought I'd gone too far. But then he replied, reaching up to run his hand through my hair. "I won't leave you, Jared. Ever." I smiled against his chest, and with the gentle movement of his breathing, slowly drifted to sleep.

PART EIGHT, ANNIVERSARY

June 18, 2018.

"I won't leave you. Ever".

That's a promise nobody should break.

Especially not someone who made that promise to me.

I guess, technically, he never broke the promise. He never left me. Not by choice, anyway. But God, I'd be exaggerating if I said he still loved me towards the end.

But he still tried.

"Babe, how many fucking times do I need to tell you to clean this shit up?" Ethan scolded, picking several cereal boxes off the dining table and putting them into the pantry. I sat on the couch, scribbling into a notebook.

"They're fine on the table. Easier to get before work in the morning. Nothing wrong with putting them there."

"And do you think maybe you could stop writing in that book and help me clean? Gavin's coming over for the party. I'd like it if you showed a little interest in it. It's our anniversary, man."

I sighed, lowering the book and looking over at him. His hands were on his hips, and he wore dish gloves and an apron. I tried to hide a smile at how cute he looked. "You know I love you. And I'll help, but I just..." I got up, walking over to him and moving his hair from his face. "You know this book is important."

"I'm supposed to be important too, Jared." His eyes were watering, and it made me feel like someone was squeezing my chest.

"You are, Ethan." I put my hands on his cheeks, pulling him closer. "You're my world. You know that."

"Yeah." He smiled, but I could still see he was hurt. "Do you mind helping your world out with the dishes?" He quipped. I smiled back and nodded.

"Absolutely. Of course. Just let me finish this chapter, okay?"

Ethan's eyelids dropped a bit, and his smile immediately dropped to a disappointed frown. "Yeah. Alright, Jared."

"You don't seem happy."

"I'm... I'm fine."

"Ethan." I leaned my face closer to his.

"I'm fine." He repeated, staring back at me with a look that almost made me feel nauseous. He looked so fed up and tired.

I should've done something. I should've hugged him, kissed him, told him how much he meant to me, and how I could see how hurt he was. But instead, the only thing I could get out was a quiet

"Okay."

He turned away to start washing dishes, and I could tell he was fighting himself so he wouldn't start sobbing.

I didn't know what to do. I hated myself. In that moment, I realized how much I was affecting him, and how bad of a partner I was. I stood behind him, arguing with myself.

Why aren't you good to him? He doesn't deserve you. You need to stop this.

It kept going, and I felt a tear fall down my cheek.

I felt like I was losing myself. And at that moment, I pretty much was. I felt emotions so strong that I started to not feel anything. I just stood there, trying to move, or comfort him, but I couldn't. I felt weird and broken.

The next thing I remember is him on the floor. I really wish I knew what happened, but I promise you that I don't. It was like I blacked out. Or my brain just locked away the memory. Whatever happened, I know what the outcome was. I saw it.

He was laid on the tile, facing up. Blood splattered his face, and he looked petrified. He looked so scared. And as my eyes moved down his body, and I saw even more blood, and more, and more, and then the wounds, and then the knife, still stuck inside him, I felt myself coming all the way back into my body. The memory is clearer and clearer.

And something weird happened.

I vomited. Almost immediately. I stood up, leaned over the sink, careful not to step on him or bump him, and I threw up.

I didn't feel good. I didn't think it was hot, or cool. I couldn't look at what I did and think or feel anything except disgust. Not because of the gore, you know how I react to that. It wasn’t that. It was the fact that I knew exactly what I'd done. I knew what had just happened.

The person I loved for over a year was laying in front of me. I was looking at his corpse, and I was the reason he was dead.

PART NINE, SPLITTING UP

Looking back, I know I treated him like shit. I see that. I don't need anybody telling me how horrible I am. I never did romantic things for him, never bought him flowers or chocolate. I didn't appreciate him enough.

He'd have been better off with anyone else. That's obvious. He'd still be here, walking around, enjoying everything. Being the fucking absolute joy he always was. He deserved to be alive. But I'm fucked up, and he was unlucky enough to get on a bus with me. Unlucky enough to love me back, to look past all the signs that he should have just run away and never looked back. Unlucky enough to be trusting, and nice, and way, way, way too forgiving.

I feel like I know why I did it. But I honestly am not completely sure. I guess I just got so angry that he was sad because of me. I got so mad that I killed him. Because I felt like I wasn't enough for him, and I never would be.

I say it's a guess because that same thing happened so many times before with Alan, and I didn't kill him for a very long time. I don't know why it hurt so much more with Ethan, but it really fucking did.

I'm so sorry for taking you from this world, Ethan.

I wish I could say he was the last one. I wish I could say losing him made something click, and that I got help and changed and stopped falling in love with people and killing them. But you're reading my journals. You found them, and you know there's more. So many more.

I should probably be more interactive with you, shouldn't I?

You're going through a lot reading this. You deserve to know that I appreciate it. So, yeah. I do. Thank you for reading these. For whatever reason you are. Maybe it's because you care about my story, or because you think it's hot, or maybe you just really fucking hate me and you want to know about my most vulnurable moments. Whatever the reason is, I'm glad someone's seeing this.

Or maybe you aren't seeing this. Maybe nobody will ever find these, and they'll be in that spot forever. And that would be my fault for burying these notebooks in such a random place.

I really hope someone's reading this.

#horror #original character #original fiction #original story #thriller #jared #jared: ethan #m4m horror #murder #mlm horror #fictional diary

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jooskyimo · 2 years ago

Text

Jared: Alan Bailey

(content tags: NSFW, M+M, character/POV switching, language, stalking, kidnapping, NC, drugs, gore, murder, frotteurism, hematolagnia, cannibalism)

PART ONE: ALAN'S POV

Dear Alan Bailey.

I know you love me too. Just fucking tell me. Come on, Alan. You fucking admire me. You want me. You love thinking of me. You want me inside you again. You want my cock inside you. You're scared to tell me. But it's okay. I can wait a little longer. You know I love you.

From, Jared.

"The fuck?" I quietly exclaimed. "What the fuck?" I got up and started pacing around the room. "What the fucking fuck, seriously?"

"What does it say, Alan?" Casey said, sitting on the edge of the couch seat with his head in his hands and his eyes closed tightly. He anticipated the worst, but was clinging onto hope that Jared hadn't written another disgusting letter.

"It's just more bullshit about him loving me." I sighed, plopping myself down onto the couch next to Casey. "I don't understand why he does this shit."

Casey looked up at me with a disgusted look on his face. "What is wrong with him, dude? You've been friends since you were like 5, what the hell happened?"

I shook my head. "I have no idea. We were close. So fucking close, Casey. We were like brothers." I looked down at my arm, realizing I'd been picking at the skin. "He started doing really tiny things a few years ago. It started off okay, now he's just weird. But fuck, man, I'd give anything just to have the old Jared back. He never used to do this shit." I leaned my head back and started scraping my skin harder.

Casey scoffed. "Well, why dont you just ignore him?What the hell is he gonna do about it?"

I stayed quiet. Not because I didn't know the answer, but because I was scared of even thinking about it.

3 years ago. My 15th birthday. Jared was the only one I had invited. I didn't like the thought of a big party, and I wanted to spend the day having fun with my best friend. Jared had just turned 16, but he hadn't thrown a party so that we would just celebrate both our birthdays at my party. And we did. But he got a lot more out of it than I did.

After we got back to my house we ate pizza, and then Jared suggested we try something. I asked him what and he told me that he saw something in a gay porn and he wanted to test it out since he was curious. We were both still questioning basically everything about ourselves, and we had both been talking about how we were both more strongly attracted to guys. We played these comments off as jokes, but deep down, we both knew what it was. We were gay.

He wanted me to suck his dick. As his birthday present. And since I loved him with every fiber of my being, I said sure.

I did it, and at the time, it felt fucking amazing. It was the most fun thing I'd ever done with him. That was the day we officially came out to each other.

After that, things went downhill.

He wanted to further our relationship, but he didn't start out being super pushy. He gave a gentle nudge, hinting towards the idea, then I'd politely reject him, maintaining the mindset that we had been best friends since we were in elementary school, and I didn't want to mess up the longest friendship I'd ever had. So he wouldn't bring it up for a few days.

But then it started happening every day. Then nonstop. By the time I was 17, he was annoyingly persistent about it to the point where we couldn't even have a normal conversation. At this point I was even more uncomfortable. I rejected him for the last time and told him if he ever hit on me like that again our friendship would be over. Forever.

He didn't take that well. I didn't want to hang out with him much anymore, so I hadn't seen him for a couple weeks. He started sending letters to me and banging on my front door and my bedroom window in the middle of the night. But this letter was unlike anything he had sent before.

I looked down at my arm and realized it was bleeding.

"Alan?" Casey got my attention.

"Yeah, what?" I looked at him.

He handed me a tissue from the box on the coffee table. "Your arm is bleeding."

"I noticed." I looked back down and wiped my arm with the tissue.

"Oh fuck."

"What, Casey?" I sighed, looking up. He was standing in front of me, shaking and staring straight at the window behind me. My eyes widened as I realized what was happening. "Get in the bathroom." He nodded and ran.

I got up and slowly turned towards the window. There he was. Staring right back at me. He had this little smirk, like the smug bastard he is.

"FUCK, JARED!" I yelled. I took a second to catch my breath and walked toward the window and opened it just enough to talk to him. He smelled like pine needles and dirt with a hint of freshly cut grass, and he was wearing a dirty gray hoodie over an uncharacteristically clean blue t-shirt, with one of the hoodie sleeves hanging off of his shoulder. His hair was fluffed up and messy, and there was dirt on his face. "What the hell are you doing here, Jared." I demanded. It came out more as a statement than a question.

"Just trying to see what your hot ass is doing. Speaking of your ass..." He grinned and looked me up and down and I could see his pupils dilate in the faint light coming from the living room. "Fuck. You don't even know, dude. I'd do some nice shit to you, Alan."

I felt the anger building up. I clenched my fist. I took a deep breath, holding it in. "You need to stop. Now."

"You know, it's pretty hot when you get mad at me." He smiled.

I clenched my jaw. "Jared, get the fuck out of here." I said it in the most authoritative voice I could without yelling and waking anyone up. "Fucking. Leave."

"You're so fucking beautiful." He looked down. I followed his gaze and saw he was hard.

I cringed. "Ugh."

"Mhm. You want it, don't you?" He moaned as he rubbed it.

"I'm calling the police, Jared."

"Whoa whoa, babe, calm down." He laughed, putting his hands up and taking a couple steps back. "I'll leave. Okay? Just..." He took out his phone. "Let me get a good picture of you, babe. I'm gonna need it."

I sighed. "Jared. Stop fucking calling me that."

"Stop calling you what?" He smirked, his phone pointed towards me.

"Babe."

He laughed. "Ooh, you fell for it! Got it." He looked down at his phone. "Fuck yeah." He looked back at me.

I slammed the window shut and he started banging on it. I could hear him yelling "Babe! Come back!" and shit like that. I didn't turn, just went straight to my room. God, I would kill him if I wouldn't get arrested.

Fuck. Him.

PART TWO, JARED'S POV

Dear Alan Bailey.

I love you more than you'll ever know. But if you can't accept that, if you can't return that love...

Maybe I'll need to force you to learn how to love me back.

From, Jared.

After banging on his living room window for a couple minutes, I accepted that he had probably gone to sleep or forgot or something. I looked down. I was still super fucking hard.

"Ffffuuuuuuucckk." I groaned, leaning my head back and shoving my hands into my pockets. I walked across his backyard and sat cross legged in the freshly trimmed grass for a few minutes. For the first time in a while I felt genuinely defeated.

I looked back down at it.

"Aw, fuck it."

I unzipped my jeans and started jerking off. All I could think about was the fact that Alan was right there. His smooth skin, his shiny hair, his beautiful fucking puppy dog eyes... All of it, just waiting for me. Barely tens of feet away. I could just walk in and fuck him. He was so close. So close. So. Fucking. Close.

"Oh, shit..." I moaned as I came. It was a lot. All over my new shirt I had bought just to impress Alan. Damn.

The next morning, I woke up in my bed, hungry and still tired. I looked at my phone to admire my lockscreen, a picture I had of Alan and I from 9th grade. His smile was so pretty. I hadn't seen that smile from him in years. After sitting in bed for a few hours, I dragged myself out of bed and washed my face, then ate a bowl of cereal, staring out the kitchen window to watch kids bike past in the street, as they did every morning. It reminded me of riding my bike to the arcade with Alan after school. That was the same arcade we had our birthday party in. And the last time we went anywhere together, aside from school. After breakfast, I put on a gray t-shirt and my hoodie and skateboarded to Alan's house to hide in the yard and watch him leave for work.

As I sat there, in the bushes beside his house, I checked the time. It was 10. That was way later than usual, and Alan still hadn't come out. I smiled. If he was still home, and if his roommate was gone, this was a great opportunity.

I grabbed my keys, spinning them on my finger and whistling as I walked up to his front door. I unlocked it, and walked right in. I knew he had no clue I could do that, which made it even better. I locked the door behind me and moved the couch in front of it as quietly as I could.

"I'm coming, babe. Don't worry. I'm finally here." I whispered to myself and smiled.

I snuck up the stairs and walked towards Alan's room. I creaked open the door and peeked inside.

There was Alan, in his bed. He'd probably called in sick so he could sleep in. Classic Alan. I sat down next to his bedroom door with my eyes closed, peacefully listening to Alan's gentle snoring and quiet moans. I smiled. He's fucking adorable, especially when he has nightmares. The noises alone...

I sat there so long I almost fell asleep myself, but I heard Alan clear his throat and moan as he got out of bed and stretched.

"Shit." I whispered. I carefully walked into the bathroom right across from Alan's room. I heard him walk down the stairs. "Shit." And I meant it this time. The front door was right at the bottom of the stairs. He was gonna see the couch and the muddy shoe prints. He was gonna know.

"Oh, what the hell?"

Fuck. No. Please. Come on...

"God damn it, Case. I told you to stop doing this shit. The doors lock just fine by themselves." As he climbed back up the stairs I could hear his voice getting closer. His hot. Fucking. Voice.

I heard him open the door to Casey's room.

"Case, why did..." He paused. "Case? What the fuck..."

Casey wasn't home. Perfect.

I heard him coming back towards the bathroom.

I had to do it.

Now.

I popped out of the bathroom and blocked the hallway, my arms and legs stretched out and my hands pressed against the walls.

"JARED! NO! GET THE FUCKING HELL OUT!" He tried to push past me.

"Don't." I demanded. He tried to slip through the space between me and the wall and I growled, kicking him in the gut. He fell to the floor. I got on top of him, trapping his hands under my legs, and grabbed his neck, keeping my other hand over his mouth to stop him from screaming. I looked into his eyes deeply as a tear rolled down his face.

This made me fucking livid. I felt a knot in my stomach, and anger- but mostly sadness- filled my head.

I forrowed my brows and leaned in a bit. "Why are you crying? Aren't you happy I'm here?"

He started breathing heavily and closed his eyes tightly. I planted a soft kiss on his cheek and he started breathing slower.

"Babe. Look at me." We stared into each other's eyes. "I'm not going to hurt you. Trust me. But please be quiet, okay? I love you. You'll be okay."

He nodded, a sad and scared expression on his face. I removed my hand from his mouth, but kept the other one lightly but still firmly around his neck.

"Okay. See? You're okay, baby."

He looked up at me, his eyes twinkling, wet with tears.

I wiped the tears from his face. "It's gonna be okay. I told you I wouldn't hurt you. I love you." I know he fucking blushed when I said that. I could fucking tell. That bitch blushed so hard.

"Say it back, Alan."

Another tear fell. He shook his head. "Please, no." He shut his eyes tightly.

I laughed. "Babe, come on." I strengthened my grip on his neck. I could tell he was starting to struggle to breathe.

He opened his eyes and squirmed. "I love you, okay? Just... Let go..." He choked out.

That shit hit me deep. I was hard as fuck.

"Oh, fuuuckkk meee..." I groaned quietly. "You really are amazing." I started rubbing against him, and then I realized.

He. Was. Fucking. Hard.

He let out a small whimper, and he was definitely blushing now.

"What the fuck... You're hard?"

"No. No..." He started struggling to get away, but I was sitting on his lap and he couldn't move at all. "Ugh, god damn it! What is wrong with you?" His face was red.

I grinned. "You fucking are, you little nasty slut. God, you're hot. I knew you loved me." I stood up and grabbed him by his arms, pulling him along with me. "We're going back to my house, babe."

I was jerking off during the drive back home. I just couldn't help it. He was so hot. Laying there, all tied up in my back seat.

I tied him to one of my dining chairs, then pulled a bottle of drugged water out of the fridge. "Here, drink this. Don't want you dehydrated." I poured some of the water into his mouth, and he swallowed it. "I'm gonna have some fun with you."

"What?"

"I'm gonna torture you in the best way. I'm gonna savor you." I walked up to him and placed my hand on his cheek. "I love you, Alan." I pulled him towards me and kissed him. His lips were soft and smooth like rose petals and they tasted like his vanilla and strawberry lip balm. As I pulled away, I looked into his eyes and he looked back into mine. They were wide, and honestly he looked like he enjoyed it.

"Oh, did you like that?" I smiled.

He stared up at me. He seemed more calm.

"Well?" He looked down at the floor to hide his face. I lifted it back up. "Come on. You can tell me." I kissed him again. "How did that make you feel?"

"I... I got chills." He said quietly.

"In a good way, right?"

He didn't reply, and looked down again. I stood up and went to grab duct tape, smiling the whole time. He liked it. I knew he loved me.

I tore the tape with my teeth and put a piece over his mouth. "You're still hard, baby?" I grinned, putting my hand on his bulge. "Can't believe this is really happening."

He whined and shut his eyes tightly as I moved my hand slowly, rubbing his cock through his sweatpants. "If you really did like me back this whole time, why the hell would you make me wait like this, baby?"

Alan ignored my question and shifted his weight, leaning back in the chair, and thrusted his hips, pressing his dick harder against my hand. I pulled away and reached up to tear the tape off. Alan let out a yell. "Now. Tell me why, pretty boy."

He hung his head and breathed heavily. "I don't... I really, really don't like you, man."

I scoffed. "Well that's a fucking lie. You blushed when I kissed you, and you just got flustered from me touching you. Come on. You love me."

He shook his head, looking back up at me. "No. Just sensitive. Any guy could do that to me."

"Oh really? Any guy?"

"Well, I mean, not an ugly guy, but..."

"Oh? So you think I'm hot?"

"Jared, come on."

"Well, that's what you just implied."

"Jared. This is like the third time you've fucking kidnapped me. How the hell are you not in jail?"

"Well, you never call anyone or tell anyone about it. Casey doesn't even know about the more extreme stuff I've done to you. To be honest," I leaned closer, grabbing his chin and looking into his eyes, "kinda makes me think you don't want me to stop."

He scoffed, pulling away and hanging his head again. I stood back up, glaring down at him. "Well then. If you're gonna be a fucking bitch about it," I pulled a pocketknife out of my back pocket and flipped it open. "I'm gonna have to teach you a lesson." I leaned in, my face close to his so he could feel my breath against his lips, tracing his jawline with the blade. "Teach you how to respect me."

"I won't. I'll never respect you. You're a piece of shit. Fuck you." He spat at me. I backed up and stared down at him angrily. It honestly hurt that he would do something like that.

"That's mean."

"You're mean." A tear fell down his cheek.

I was conflicted. Stood for a minute or so. Watching. His beautiful twinkling eyes staring back up at me. His pretty crying. His smile. His beautiful body, leaning forward as if to intimidate me.

I decided.

I lunged and grabbed him by his neck, holding him back as I hooked the blade of my knife under his shirt and tore through it. I dropped the knife, ripping the shirt with my bare hands. An animal tearing into another animal purely based on instinct. Aggression. Passion.

PART THREE, ALAN'S POV

Dear Alan Bailey.

God damn it. I miss you. Alan. I fucking miss you so much. Why can't you just admit you love me back? Then we could just skip this drama and finally be together. Why not, Alan? Why don't you love me??? Why the fuck not???

"What the fuck are you doing?!" I screamed as he ripped my shirt open, trying desperately to hold him back.

"Teaching you a lesson, like I said." He smiled at me. I hate his smile.

So fucking smug.

Disgusting.

Horrible.

Vile.

I kicked my legs, aiming to hit him anywhere I could. "Get off, you fucking psycho!" He grabbed a fistful of my hair, pulling my head back. I stopped kicking.

He stared into my eyes for a few seconds, then his face got really close to mine. "You need to stop doing that, Alan. I'm here to take care of you, and you're making it really, really difficult." He sat in my lap while he said this. I felt my cock throbbing in my jeans, and it felt so good against him. He traced the blade gently across my face and neck with his other hand still pulling my hair, then started grinding against me. I moaned softly, accepting his attempt to calm me down. It shouldn't have worked, but it did.

Maybe a little too well.

"Oh fuck, did you just..."

I was really hoping he wouldn't notice.

He grinned. "That's hot. Thought you didn't like me. Your feelings definitely change fast, don't they?"

"Shut up, Alan. I told you before, I'm sensitive. You don't have to make fun of me."

"Yeah, but that didn't seem like you just being sensitive. You were moaning. You were enjoying it." He smiled, then leaned in and kissed me softly. I couldn't speak or react. I wanted to yell at him or punch him or push him away, but I couldn't. It was like I was hypnotized, just staring back into his eyes. I knew I was blushing because of his stupid reaction and smug grin.

He kissed me again, and again, grinding against me the whole time, letting out these really soft and hot moans, and a minute later I was hard again.

I was actually kinda starting to enjoy it. Why the fuck did I feel like this? He's disgusting. I've tried for years to distance myself from this creep, and now all those feelings of hatred were just gone because he was a little charismatic? No. No. This is fucking stupid.

He got up and went into his bedroom, and I felt adrenaline start pumping through my veins. I tried with all my strength to separate my arms and get the rope off, but it was tied tight, and the pulling made the knot tighter.

"Shit."

"You say something, babe?"

"No." I started sweating. Fuck. What the hell was I gonna do? Then I saw the knife on the counter. It was a couple feet away. If I could get to it without making too much noise, I could get free and maybe stab this fucker. Then I could run out into the street and be saved. I smiled as I began to feel free again.

I scooted the chair across the floor to the counter, and it didn't make sound. Thank god Jared used furniture pads on everything. I kept scooting closer and closer until I finally got there. I looked around, trying to figure out how to get the knife, when I heard Jared coming back in.

"So, I couldn't find my favorite knife, but I found some-" He looked up, first at me, then at the knife. "Oh, no, you don't." He laughed, pulling my chair back and grabbing the knife. Shit. "You're a smart little guy, aren't you? Trying to escape. Too bad you couldn't grab the knife. You were so close to being free, weren't you?"

I clenched my jaw at his condescending remarks.

"I think you deserve a punishment for that." He stared at me for a second, then suddenly lunged and grabbed my left foot, holding my leg straight out. I wiggled, trying to get my leg free.

"No! No, stop it!"

"This is what happens when you try to leave me." He put the knife to my upper thigh, and dragged the blade all the way down my leg. I winced and breathed through my teeth. He didn't cut deep, but he used enough force to draw blood, resulting in a long, red line down my leg, dripping blood onto the floor.

"Stop it, please." I sobbed.

"No. You haven't learned your lesson yet." He put the knife back at the start of the cut, and started to slice into it again. I screamed, and he dropped the knife and my leg and slapped his hand over my mouth. "What the hell is wrong with you? You want somebody to hear you?" He looked deeper into my eyes. "You want me to get in trouble?"

My eyes started to water. I shook my head.

"Good." He let go, and picked up my leg again.

I had to do something.

I kicked him with my other leg, hitting him in the chin. He groaned and stood back up, stumbling backwards and running into the wall. "Fuck, ow! You bitch!" I started to struggle with the ropes again.

"No. You're not getting away." He ran towards me, and I leaned to the side. I fell, and he tripped over the legs of the chair, running into his dining table. "Fuck, okay. That one hurt a lot." He knelt over, holding his stomach. "I can't fucking breathe. Holy shit."

I found the knot and started to untie it. I kept struggling to find the right curves and twists in the knot. Jared started to get up again, and I finally undid the knot and struggled to stand. I started to run just as he reached out to grab me, but I fell over as the surging pain in my leg reminded me it wouldn't be that easy. I screamed in pain, and he dragged me by my shoulders back to the chair.

"Let me go! Please!" I could barely get my words out between my sobs and gasps for air. I kept crying as he lifted the chair and sat me on it, then started to tie me up yet again. He kissed me, and almost fell over as he tried to catch his breath.

"You're a tough one." He said as he sat on my lap, resting his arms over my shoulders and leaning his forehead against mine. "But you aren't leaving. I can't let you."

I wanted to try to get him off of me, but I felt myself starting to get tired, and the strength started to leave my body.

PART FOUR, JARED'S POV

Dear Alan Bailey,

I jerked off to our school pictures like 7 times today. Might be a new record. You looked so hot in your basketball shorts. Ever since we were in middle school, I've fantasized about fucking you in the locker room, with our gym shorts and sneakers on, just going at it like fucking animals and ignoring anybody who saw us. Me pulling your soft hair, you screaming my fucking name like the pretty slut you are.

I think about it every day, Alan. That night on your birthday. Seeing you on your knees in front of me, and seeing you swallow my cum. I hope we can do that again someday.

Love, Jared.

"Fuck, you're still so hard." I laughed. "You really put up a fight, Alan."

He whined, trying to get me off of him.

"Come on, Alan. Anyone could see that this whole thing is performative. You just don't wanna admit that you like me. But you do. I can tell. You came earlier, and you're still hard, even after I cut you. I'm not the only one enjoying this."

He didn't say anything. Just sat there, leaned his head back, and moaned while I kept grinding against him.

"I want you."

It was so quiet, and he hadn't said anything for a few minutes, so I wasn't even sure he actually said it. "Did you say something?"

"I want you so bad." He slurred.

Holy shit. He really meant it.

I felt a chill, and my cock was sore from waiting so long. I stood up, starting to take off my shorts. I looked at him, and he was looking drowsy. He couldn't even keep his head up. My mood went from excited to pissed.

He didn't mean it. It was the fucking drugs.

"Fuck. Fuck!!"

"What's wrong?" He mumbled.

"God damn it!" I screamed and slammed my fist against the wall. I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes, trying to calm myself down.

"Jared?"

Just breathe.

"Jared, come back." He laughed, almost falling over in the chair.

Breathe.

"Okay. Okay. Y'know what, Alan?" I picked up the knife and walked back over to him, trying to stay calm. He just stared back up at me, waiting. I closed my eyes and took a step closer.

Breathe.

Another step.

Stay calm.

"What are you doing?"

Breathe.

I opened my eyes. "I'm sorry, Alan." I put the knife to his throat.

"What do you mean? What-"

"I'm sorry."

Cut.

I felt a surge of energy spread through my body. My eyes focused on Alan, and thick, red blood spilled from his neck and bubbled as these choking, gurgling sounds came from him.

"Jared..." he choked.

I sat in his lap again, and kissed his bloody lips as the life left him. I felt his last breath on my lips. I tasted his blood. I put my hands against him, covering them in his blood, and smeared it against my body.

"Fuck."

I sat with him for a few minutes before I untied him from the chair, and dragged him to the middle of the room, and got on top of him, just like we were in the hallway that morning. I laid on top of him, kissing him and caressing him.

"Now you won't leave me."

It took me those 3 days to get used to his death. It didn't affect me very much, probably because in a way he was still there. I missed him more when he was alive, because he was never with me. But now he was. He didn't have the choice to leave me anymore.

He laid there in my kitchen for 3 days. The smell didn't bother me. I actually kinda liked it.

He was with me forever.

I even tried eating him a couple times. The first time, I cooked a part of him and tried it with seasonings. The second time I ate him by himself, with nothing else. The second one was definitely better. It felt more pure. It was just him.

I cut him in every place I could, just to see what was inside. It was all so pretty. Every time I touched his blood or anything inside him, it made me feel something I never felt before. It was all so satisfying. The slick feeling of his organs, and the sounds that came from them when I touched them.

By the time I was ready to get rid of him, he was a ripped apart corpse covered in blood and organs.

I didn't know what to do with the rest of him for a while. I had cleaned the blood and evidence from his house and mine, but I didn't have an idea for what was left of his body. I ended up keeping some in the fridge for later, and then putting some of him through the garbage disposal, and the rest got flushed down the toilet. That seemed to work.

Alan Bailey. He was my first, and my favorite.

I love you, Alan Bailey.

#horror #stalker #short story #original story #original fiction #original horror #jared #alan bailey #mlm horror

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