Chapter Text
A sympathetic and mildly amused expression greets him as Frank tosses his mask aside, shuffles towards the circular couch in the centre of the lobby and then flops down on it. So fucking beat right now. Don’t even have the energy to flip you off for that goofy smile of yours. Groaning tiredly, he vaguely notes Oscar snatching his bloodied weapon while his damp clothes insist on hindering his ability to get fully comfortable. Fucking—damn layers. Maneuvering about, he eventually manages to shed his leather jacket and hoodie until his naked torso is free to rest flat against the couch cushions. Another trial like that and I’m calling bullshit. Can’t believe this.
The soft sound of air whooshing beside him eventually intrigued him enough to roll his head to the side and crack one eye open. From there, he spots Oscar leaning back against the couch while cleaning his knife and occasionally swinging the thing around. His eyebrow raises at the sight though this isn’t exactly the first time he’s found the guy showing a liking to his weapon.
You look… good, holding that. You really shouldn’t, but you do. Then again, you were never as innocent as you looked, even if you’re sometimes a total dumbass. My total dumbass. The possessive thought causes a lazy smile to stretch across his face while his hand briefly extends to muse the dirty blonde locks facing him.
Oscar emits a content sigh when his hair is touched, his head tipping backward into the contact as he asks, “Want a beer?”
“Later.”
“Another bad one?” the other male inquires next while setting the freshly cleaned hunting knife aside.
Understatement of the century. Knowing precisely what his sweetheart is referring to, Frank merely hums in confirmation before retracting his hand from those soft locks. Wouldn’t have been so bad if every survivor didn’t rush the generators. Didn’t matter how many times I kicked them off either. They just kept coming back. That Asian gamer chick even repaired one right in my face while bleeding out. Cocky little bitch.
“Maybe the Entity is getting bored or something,” he hears Oscar suggest after a moment, the thought of not saying anything back temporarily flashing through his mind.
If only you knew. “Or something,” he quietly parrots after a minute, his words mostly muffled by the couch cushions.
What his sweetheart doesn’t know is that the Entity despises his recent change of heart and, furthermore, his lack of violence and assholery. Thus far, he’s been successfully ignoring her warnings and defying her subtle persuasion to commit harm against the other male. Harder trials, with organised survivors and unfavourable realms, and awful headaches are her current methods for combating his persistent disobedience. Whether Oscar is beginning to catch on to the latter is still unknown but he hopes to figure things out, find a better plan than simply enduring, before the guy puts two and two together.
He fears actually telling his sweetheart the truth as the Entity might start harming Oscar instead though, technically speaking, nothing is stopping her from doing it at any time. Either way, regardless of what he chooses to do, things are guaranteed to become worse if she decides to try out a harsher punishment on him.
I won’t let her hurt you, not over this, but what the fuck am I supposed to do? Frowning in concentration, he ponders his limited options for a minute or so before the strain on his already exhausted mind catches up with him. Dammit. M’too tried to think about this right now, and I can’t do shit if I’m falling asleep. Giving up on thinking for the time being, Frank relaxes as best he can up until the blissful void of sleep finally claims him.
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Gradually, Frank returns to the land of consciousness, his blurry vision momentarily worsened by the brightness of the fire. Why’s that so damn bright? Feels warmer too actually. No, wait, that’s not the fire. Gaze flicking to the side, he quickly discovers a familiar, secondary source of warmth resting partially on top of his chest. More specifically, Oscar, equally naked from the waist upward, is presently snoozing away on the same couch as him.
Well what d’we have here? Looks like some sweet angel was nice enough to keep me extra warm and cozy. Suppressing a chuckle, he carefully hauls the guy nearer until their chests are fully plastered against one another. An arm is then draped across the guy’s back while he soundlessly continues to watch the other male enjoy a seemingly peaceful slumber. Can’t remember when I got so soft and, well… vanilla, with moments like this anyways, but they always have their upsides. ‘Suppose there’s nothing to be ashamed about liking this either.
Despite the odd argument or snappish remark, his official relationship with Oscar is progressing better than anticipated. There is surprisingly plenty left to learn about the guy and he, in turn, continues to open up even more to his sweetheart about his past. Some subjects remain too painful to bring up, like his time in the foster system and Oscar’s lack of achievements in his home world. However, the vast differences between their experiences with family matters never fails to interest him.
Of course there are always other activities to occupy their time besides talking which, in most cases, provides the best entertainment. Rarely does boredom ever hit him and Oscar too hard and their go-to response is simply to sleep the hours away anyways. Such sleepy, lazy moments remind Frank of the very one playing out right this second; although, watching the guy sleep is far from boring yet there is something he can do to add a little excitement to the moment.
‘Bout time I returned your earlier favour, and it feels like it’s been a while since I’ve seen you squirm under my touch. Flipping their positions ever so gently, he ensures that his sweetheart is still asleep prior to unzipping the guy’s cargo pants. Normally you’re a pretty heavy sleeper but you’d have t’be really out of it not to notice what happens next. His target is then freed from its confines next, the soft and familiar organ warm in hands which his tongue eagerly descends upon.
The tiniest of whimpers and the mild creasing of the other male’s brow are the initial reactions he picks up on. Both of which, though mainly the latter one, tells him immediately that Oscar is experiencing a lighter sleep this time around. Yeah, you’re not going to be asleep for much longer.
Reining in his own excitement, as much as possible anyhow, Frank continues to lick several strips along Oscar’s length while a pleasant musk fills his nostrils. The flavour coating his taste buds is rather enjoyable as well, something fairly fresh and deliciously intoxicating. Pretty sure I’m just teasing myself if I keep this up. ‘Sides, I know there’s plenty of different flavours in you, like a nice and salty one.
Switching things up, he proceeds to swirl his tongue around the smoothness of the bulbous tip next. His circular motions earn a louder noise, something less identifiable than the first, while the body underneath him faintly stirs. Heh. Just a few licks in the right places and you’re already begging for more. Too fucking cute. Not long after, Frank slips the moistened tip inside of his mouth while awkwardly adjusting the front of his own, slightly tight pants.
A bit of shifting, sighing and the odd whimper answer his increased ministrations, everything of which ever fuelling his own desire. That’s it. I wonder how you’ll react if I suddenly skip ahead to one of the best parts. Grinning wickedly around the flesh in his mouth, Frank temporarily pulls back only to swallow the entirety of Oscar’s inflating dick. Vicious head bobbing ensues without delay, the enthusiasm of his every suck producing wet and obscene noises aplenty. In the meantime, his jaw and the back of his throat begin to protest some though the discomfort is effortlessly tuned out.
Simultaneously, caramel eyes, still hazy with sleep, swiftly fly open and a surprised moan pierces the air as his sweetheart finally wakes up. Ha! Welcome back sweetheart. Knew you couldn’t last. His eagerness persists without pause, in spite of the elevated strain on his body, whilst a hand soon finds its way into his hair and grips it for dear life.
“Ah, hah, Fr—ah! Nngh… d-don’t stop,” Oscar weakly pleas, his hips jutting forward in a desperate attempt to gain better stimulus, “please don’t stop.”
Since you asked so nicely. Holding down those jerky hips to maintain some control, he happily continues to roughly suck the guy off with everything he’s got. Coupled with the vibrations of his every hum and choked noise, it’s only a matter of time before Oscar becomes fully hard and leaking in his mouth. So close now.
The hints of saltiness which cling to his tongue and the sweet moans emanating from above spur him into upping his efforts. His reward is a lewdly shrill shout, an overly tight grip on his hair and a savoury explosion in his mouth. Well, shit. That was almost too easy. Guess you were really backed up, huh? Grin never fading, he swallows back whatever remnants of seed linger behind prior to releasing that softening flesh with a wet pop.
Frank then wipes his lips clean and briefly massages his sore jaw whilst the other male catches his breath in the background. His heart swells at the sight of Oscar, face attractively flushed and eyes glazed over, recovering on the couch. You’re making me harder just by looking at you. It’s amazing how you’re able to get me going just by… My head, something… I-I don’t feel—argh!
A horrendous burst of pain within his skull causes him to cry out, his hands raising to clutch at each side of his head. What the fuck is—wait, Entity? You bitch! Stay outta my—hrah! Distantly, he hears his sweetheart worriedly calling out to him while a hand plants itself on his shoulder.
Unfortunately, all he can truly focus on is the overpowering voice in his head, the one whispering messages of immense disappointment. Her following attempts to persuade him into returning to his old ways, much like several times before, are instantly defied. For safety’s sake, he swats the hand off of his shoulder and hastily backs away from the fire pit, the awful pain in his skull never subsiding.
“Frank, what’s wr—”
“H-Headache,” he shortly explains through gritted teeth but the other male doesn’t appear the slightest bit convinced. “M’fine, just… just stay away.” Please don’t come any closer.
His attempts to drown the Entity out are suddenly met with numbing pressure and, soon enough, a slow loss of control over his own thoughts. What the fuck is going on? Feels like she’s trying to do something to my thoughts. Not sure what but I definitely don’t like where this is going.
“This isn’t just another headache. None of your headaches have been just…” A brief glimpse at Oscar reveals the guy to be frozen in place, his expression undoubtably one of horrified realisation. “Wait, is it the Entity? Is she hurting you?”
Heh. The one time you’re not a total dumbass. Really wish it wasn’t right now though. Just my fucking luck I guess. Seeing feet entering his line of sight, Frank backs another couple of steps away and then raises a palm towards his sweetheart. “Stay away! St-Stay away from me.”
Obviously believing his assumption to be true, Oscar tries a second time to bridge the distance between the two of them whilst encouragingly saying, “Fight her Frank.”
“What’s it look like I’m fucking doing?” he thoughtlessly snaps as the Entity gradually darkens his mind with different thoughts. I can’t keep her out. I can’t—shit! This is so bad.
Sensing the danger he poses, Frank looks to the other male as he struggles to warn, “You, nngh, y-you have to… to run. Run away.”
“But—”
“Now,” he impatiently demands in a firmer tone of voice. “I-I don’t think I can block her out… not this time.”
Appearing somewhat conflicted, the guy nevertheless stands his ground and offers his help in the form of greater encouragement. “Yes you can. You’ve done it before and you can do it again.”
I wish I could, but for now I need you to get the fuck out of here already. “Please, go.”
Perhaps finally registering the severity of the situation, Oscar heeds his plea this time and promptly flees to another area of the building. With his sweetheart out of the picture, Frank focuses the entirety of his energy on resisting the foreign force overtaking him from the inside out. Get out, get out, get out! I-I know what you’re doing, and I’m—nngh! Fuck… m’not gonna let you control me.
Echoey laughter mocks his bravery and persistence before a gentler, condescending coo responds to his refusal to accept the inevitable. None of what he hears dissuades him from trying but, much to his shame and disapproval, no amount of effort is enough to kick her out of his head. Moreover, within seconds, the darkest of thoughts consume whatever slivers of his willpower yet remain. The best way he might explain this is comparing his mind to that of a cassette player where the Entity has just plugged in a completely different tape to play.
Pain gone and hands slowly releasing his head, all is quiet until a series of disturbing cackles escape from his mouth. He feels strangely energised, more so than any other time he can remember, which he expresses in a loud and boisterous fashion. In lieu of exploring this random mood of his, as he sees no reason to question a good thing, he is instead driven forward by a dark desire.
Hunting down and punishing Oscar.
Grin nearly splitting his face, Frank swiftly redons his discarded mask, grabs for his hunting knife and begins to search for his hiding prey. “Oh sweetheart,” he twistedly sings whilst climbing to the second floor, his knife carving a line into the wall as he ascends, “where are you?”
His call goes unanswered, much the same as the three others which follow it, yet his expression never falters. Taking a short peek inside each room, a faint rattling sound eventually draws his attention to the clinic down the way. Frank heads towards it immediately, his stride purposely noisy as he gradually closes the gap between him and the partly ajar door.
Once within range, he drums his fingers against the doorframe prior to grabbing for the actual door itself and eagerly wrenching it open. “Gotcha!”
His victory shout seems to be premature as he soon discovers no sight nor sign of his target hiding anywhere the room. Inwardly cursing, his confusion is quite literally knocked out of him by a solid object striking him over the back of the head. Slashing backwards on instinct, which catches nothing but air, he then whips around and finds Oscar, holding an intravenous pole, standing behind him.
Nodding approvingly at the sight, he gestures to the other male with a wave of his knife while uttering a pleased, “Feisty little slut.”
“C’mon man, snap out of it,” the guy implores, his body moving backwards whenever Frank takes a step forward.
“You must really want me to hurt you.”
Looking slightly horrified, Oscar nonetheless maintains his grip on the pole while fearfully demanding, “What the hell did she do to you?”
Unsure of what his sweetheart is talking about, he easily dismisses the question before he excitedly voices, “Better question: what am I going to do to you?”
Panicked, especially when his back smacks against a wall, the guy defensively lashes out with his bulky weapon. Frank laughingly dodges a few of those broad swings with ease until he becomes bored and merely rips the pole out of Oscar’s grasp. His sweetheart stumbles forward as a result which allows him to snatch the other male up into his arms, those emotionful caramels flicking upward to stare at his mask.
Before a single word can be said, he lifts Oscar off of the floor and promptly tosses the guy over the nearby railing. A pleasurable chill runs through him the moment he hears his sweetheart hit the floor down below though nothing beats the thrill he feels when he witnesses the scene firsthand. In spite of the hard landing, his prey appears to be mostly unharmed but is slow to get up or even acknowledge the danger still lurking above.
Only when the guy eventually recovers and starts to flee elsewhere does he hop over the railing and give chase. Determined to keep things entertaining, he intentionally prolongs the hunt by letting his sweetheart escape him multiple times. Naturally, Oscar doesn’t get away unscathed and the slashes he acquires continues to pile up each time their paths cross. One particularly nasty slice to his lower abdomen significantly slows the other male down, enough so where Frank knows that their little game of cat and mouse has finally reached its end.
“Where are you going?” Frank mockingly coos as his sweetheart staggers into the storage room for safety. “Heh. Trying to hide from me again? Pussy.”
Entering behind the guy, he quietly shuts the door behind him before fully turning around to face his prey. As anticipated, blood loss has taken its toll on Oscar which is made abundantly clear when the other male collapses against some boxes stacked up at the back of the room. Evidently too weak to stand any longer, the guy simply settles on leaning back against those boxes whilst one of his hands rests over top of his abdominal wound.
“Frank, please, don’t do this,” his sweetheart feebly begs between semi-laboured breaths. “I-I know you’re still in there.”
Moving to crouch in front of Oscar, Frank shoves his blade in one of the loops on the waistband on his pants before reaching forward to pat the guy on the cheek. “I love hearing you beg. Almost as much as I love hearing you scream.”
“Wake up already.”
“Oh, I’m awake. Wide awake,” he seductively whispers, his masked face coming to rest directly beside the other male’s left ear, “and so fucking hard.”
His sweetheart softly cries in despair as he proceeds to unzip his pants, the freedom his aching arousal experiences in the open air drawing out a relieved sigh. Giving his hardened flesh a few light strokes, something Oscar refuses to watch, he then yanks his prey underneath him. To his delight, the other male demonstrates a little bit of fight when he goes to cut away at the layers blocking him from his favourite hole. Said fight, however, is too weak to do any actual damage to him but this doesn’t prevent Frank from enjoying the show.
Seeing those fists fall and those caramels partially roll upwards prompts him to say, “Hey. Don’t pass out on me yet sweetheart, not before I’ve—”
“I love you.”
A weird feeling, something deep within his chest, results from the declaration and, for a moment, he finds himself hesitating. Confused, his hands start to retract from their resting places on Oscar’s thighs while the other male simply shuts his eyes in resignation for whatever happens next. He wrestles with the feeling for a time, the powerfulness of it bothering him enough to warrant pondering, before something else—in his mind—steers his thoughts back in their original direction.
After giving his head a good shake, Frank shifts those annoying legs out of his way and then lubes up his cock with some of the guy’s blood. Admittedly, the moment feels less thrilling with his sweetheart ignoring him and on the verge of passing out; however, that shred of defiance and their chase still manages to keep him turned on.
He then spends a minute savouring the unobstructed view of that invitingly tight and unstretched hole prior to pushing inside of it. Fortunately for him, Oscar is in fact awake and strong enough to belt out some lovely music for him as his member tears through those stubborn muscles. Despite the ample amount of blood soaking his dick, becoming fully sheathed still takes time and his roughness leaves plenty of internal damage along the way. Nevertheless, the journey itself is entirely worthwhile, especially with how hotly and snugly his sweetheart keeps squeezing him.
“Bet you missed this,” he sweetly whispers once completely inside, the brief rotating movement of his hips driving a pained whine from his prey. “I know your hungry ass does.”
When the guy offers nothing expect for quiet and miserable sobbing, he presses onward by beginning to draw back and then shove himself forward again. A harsh rhythm quickly follows, something which feels immensely gratifying to him and utterly painful for Oscar. Old memories of similar times resurface as he thoroughly ravages his sweetheart like a wild animal, the loud slaps of skin drowning out every other sound in the room.
Although his tunes are barely audible, the candlelight and those oozing lacerations does an awesome job of making the other male look that much more gorgeous. Those half-lidded caramels, watery and somewhat glossy from blood loss, and those trembly sinful lips are what captivates him the most though. Wishing to improve their appearance, or at least see a different reaction from them, Frank closes his hands around Oscar’s neck and starts to apply pressure.
The sudden loss of oxygen immediately causes the guy to choke as well as tense up down below. While the additional squeeze to his cock feels like heaven, if not an overly scorching one, his attention is fixated solely on those wide eyes and parted lips. Keeping the pressure going, he also continues to pound into his sweetheart as best as the position allows which, all too soon, pushes him right toward his limit.
With his orgasm but a thrust or two away, Frank steals one last look at those now bulging caramels and slightly blue-tinted lips before tumbling over the edge of ecstasy. His grip tightens without his knowledge as euphoria momentarily clouds his mind, the rapturous roar he unleashes sounding akin to distant static in his ears. Vaguely, he notes how limp the body beneath him suddenly becomes and, more importantly, how loosely those torn muscles are hugging his length.
As his blissful high ebbs, so too does the dark desire within his mind to the point where his previous thoughts, the unmanipulated ones, begin to return to him. What the hell just happened? I was doing something, something… I was… Oscar! Realisation hits him like a shotgun blast to the face, his shock persisting for another few seconds before he can scrounge up the strength to look downward.
“No,” he shakily whispers in disbelief as he wholly absorbs the gory scene below him. “No, no, no.” Hastily removing himself from the other male, Frank attempts to rein in his panic but ultimately fails when he notices one crucial detail.
Oscar isn’t breathing.
Shit. Checking for a pulse just to be sure, which he fails to feel, he then tries to resuscitate the guy for the next several minutes. Tears stream freely down his cheeks and his breath becomes ragged once more whilst he works to bring his sweetheart back. C’mon, c’mon. Come back to me! You can’t die on me, not because I couldn’t… I should’ve never let this happen. Whatever hope he has of seeing those caramel orbs again diminishes with every second which creeps by and within due time, there is nothing left for him to draw energy from.
Falling back on his ass, Frank struggles to regain his breath while the weight of his weakness to repel the Entity mercilessly crushes his insides. Speaking of the bitch, hearing her voice ringing through his skull is the last thing he wants to deal with but it’s impossible to block out her cheery words. Bitch! I’ve done everything you wanted and you make me do this? We had a deal, and you just… I fucking hate you! I hate you and hate this world, I… I-I hate you.
Too sad to even bother with her, his gaze returns to his sweetheart, those once beautiful caramels now dull and lifeless. I see death all the time, seen yours plenty of times too, but this… I didn’t want this. I never wanted to see this again but I never really had a choice, did I? The Entity always gets what she wants. With his composure rapidly crumbling, Frank desperately hopes to write this off as a nightmare though the feeling of that cooling skin under his hand is nothing but reality.
“N-No…”
Curling up beside the guy, he ditches his mask before burying his face into the bend of Oscar’s neck. His arms cradle his sweetheart against his chest as an anguished howl rips its way up from the depths of his throat. Whatever pain the Entity is capable of causing him pales in comparison to the deep one, raw and piercing, he is experiencing now. He cares not nor focuses on the fog rolling in to collect the both of them as he continues to scream for Oscar, the gorgeous angel he has hurt too often.
I’m so sorry Oscar. I’m so fucking sorry.