The Rise and Fall of BatBoy

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Pete looked around the shitty club for his next victim. The smell of alcohol and lust in the room was turning his stomach.

He had been bitten only five years ago on his way home from a club just like this. He had lain, alone on the street for half the night before he had the strength to get home. He didn't realise what had really happened for two whole weeks. His girlfriend had been quite accepting. Three days later, she was dead.

Pete didn't really care anymore. Whatever happens happens. People die every day. He wasn't making it any better, but he wasn't making it too much worse. In fact, he found that being a vampire was the one thing that he was actually somewhat okay at. And that made him happy.

He spotted a short boy, short as in maybe two or three inches smaller than himself, in the corner. He looked like he'd rather be anywhere else in the world. He was perfect. Pete smirked and strutted over to him confidently.

"Hey, hot stuff" he smirked, leaning against the wall beside him.

The boy looked him up and down and raised his eyebrow. He looked skeptical, but there was a slight failing in it, a crack, through which his neediness shone through. Pete thought himself a good judge of character.

"What's your name?" Pete bit his lip, thankful his fangs hadn't made an appearance yet.

"Patrick." The boy, Patrick, said shortly and looked away uninterestedly. Pete huffed, not used to not getting his way.

"I'm Pete."

Patrick nodded shortly. His answers were as short as he was. There was no question that this Patrick was used to being flirted with, and was extremely done with being used. No matter. Pete rolled his eyes and moved closer, leaving practically no space between them.

"Well, Pattycakes, wanna dance with me?"

"Don't call me that." Patrick glanced at him. He then shrugged. "You look desperate enough to entertain."

Pete made an undignified sound, drowned out by the horrible 2000's pop blaring through the club.

Playing hard to get? It just made him even more determined. He grabbed Patrick's hand and and pulled him onto the dance floor, twirling them so Pete's back was pressed against Patrick's chest. He held Patrick's hand over his chest and started moving his hips to the beat.

"You know, I like boys like you. The edgy ones..." He said, trying his best to be heard over the music. Patrick rolled his eyes but let his hands roam Pete's body despite himself. He could use a bit of fun.

Pete twirled around in his grip and slung his arms lazily over Patrick's shoulders.

"And by the way, I'm not desperate. I could get any guy I wanted in here, but I chose you" he winked over-exaggeratedly.

Patrick rolled his eyes.

"Great line. If you're trying to sound like a terribly awkward ash ketchum." he replied sarcastically, making Pete pout.

"Don't bring pokémon into this too."

Patrick sighed. Nerd.

"I can tell you're not that into this whole dancing thing, why don't we get out of here?" Pete asked.

Patrick stared at him, mulling over his options, like one of those interactive stories. He decided anywhere would be better and nodded, he might even be able to swindle some breakfast out of it if he played his cards right.

Pete giggled and grabbed his hand, tugging him towards the exit. He was glad he could pick someone up this easily. He wouldn't have to worry too much about the sunrise that way.

Pete was all over Patrick the whole way to his run down apartment. Dragging him the full length of the three blocks, swinging around corners, his mouth roaming over his neck and hands steadily moving farther down.

"You really are desperate," Patrick rolled his light blue eyes at the older boy.

"Only for you." Pete sang in his ear, not exactly a pleasant sound. It was a little like the keys crunching together in the older man's left hand as he detached himself to unlock the door. Patrick scoffed quietly, following him in. he supposed Pete wasn't exactly bad looking. Not exactly. He was one of those emo guys who teenage girls go weak at the knees for for no apparent reason other than their smoky eye. An overgrown angsty teen. As Patrick scanned his apartment he decided that's exactly what Pete was.

He only had a chance to catch the Joy Division poster on one of Pete's black kitchen slash living room walls before he was being pulled into what could only be described as an emo explosion.

Even the bloody bed looked emo. It was covered with a white sheet that, taking a wild guess, Pete had sharpied a weird looking bat heart onto. He sighed softly. He was starting to regret his decision to follow Pete out. There had been a cute enough girl on the dance floor he could've gotten.

Pete pushed Patrick onto the bed and straddled his waist, his semi digging into Patrick's hip. He tugged at the bottom of Patrick's shirt.

"Get it off."

Patrick slowly and deliberately discarded it onto the ground beside the bed, barely having it off before Pete was attacking his neck, leaving hickeys that would bruise for at least a week. Hadn't this goth whore ever heard of subtlety?

Somehow, in all the haste, Pete had managed to strip them both down to their underwear and push Patrick down onto his back. Now that was impressive.

"You look kinda like a bottom" he commented smugly. Patrick let out a sharp laugh, like a whip cracking. Like Pete's singing, it wasn't a pleasant sound. It didn't sound right, didn't sound like it was practised enough.

"Like I'd bottom for someone like you."

Pete made a clucking sound that turned into a squeak as he was flipped over, now looking up at Patrick. Patrick glanced at Petes beside clock, which was batman themed might he add. 03:30, it read. Patrick did the maths quickly.

It would take at least 40 minutes for him to walk home, another half hour or so for Pete to fall asleep so he could make his escape. He had to be home by 6 am. That gave him exactly an hour and 20 minutes to get Pete off.

He kissed down Pete's bare chest, now seeing the weird bat heart tattoo above his crotch. He scoffed quietly.

"You really like bats, huh?"

Pete groaned.

"Oh shut up." He growled out. Patrick smirked and grabbed the base of Petes cock.

"I really don't think you're the one in control here."

Pete let out a small whimper from the back of his throat, feeling himself grow fully hard.

Pete was surprised he wasn't finished by now. By this time, he'd usually have his fangs out. He frowned slightly and listened closely, Patrick had a dull heartbeat. Pete concluded that Patrick must've been sick or something like that.

Archaic ||Peterick||Kde žijí příběhy. Začni objevovat