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The breeze hugged Billy from where he rested on the sill of his living room window, his shoulder flush with the exposed screen. He stared out into the many trees behind his house. Beyond them he could see lights from the closest houses trying to peak at him through the branches. This far into summer, they didn’t have much luck. It was miles before they would be even visible, and only when the trees died down in the fall would even the signal of their lights would reach Billy’s back windows.
July had arrived just as surely as it would pass, and for the first time, Billy was looking forward to September. School would be back, but so would the opportunity to finally finish his script. The summer had proved a necessary if restless pause. Necessary in that he was sure Stu still needed some time to work up to the idea. The restlessness was born in how to work up to finishing the last touches. Killing Maureen hadn’t been improvised, but it wasn’t until he was rushed to leave that Billy even realized he’d left a gap in his logic when approaching the concept- shoving Stu into Cotton’s jacket in a bid for escape.
He’d more than won out on that one.
Stu had even gotten away from that mission unscathed- which had never been a sure thing, but Billy knew he wouldn’t be complaining about the extra set of hands come fall.
Fall was still over a month away, and the intermission stretched on.
He pulled away from the window and its breeze, which wasn’t much cooler than the rest of the house at that point. The constant hum of the darkness and woods around his home was as good a backdrop as any for a night so still, and Billy didn’t see a point in changing the track for a scene that was just going to be cut. So he drifted to the kitchen just as silently, poured himself some cereal in a bowl he wasn’t going to wash later, and ate over the sink.
His kitchen was more closed off than the living room, so the only source of light was the half moon he couldn’t quite see in the panes. It made him realize it was almost midnight. Time passed differently in the quiet.
It was disturbed- pierced by the shrill cry of his landline. He cleared his bowl and let it ring.
And it kept ringing until:
Beep. “You’ve reached Hank-“ “Nancy.” “- and Billy.” “Leave a message!” Beep!
The cheerful voicemail grated on him, but he knew changing it without his dad’s knowing wouldn’t go unnoticed. Maybe he could just delete it and blame it on a freak power outage?
He thought this over while he placed his bowl in the sink. Then, as if someone was turning a volume dial in his head they too went still and an eerie sensation flooded his body. It drenched him in hesitation and slowed him before he’d even realized what his subconscious was so wary of.
He hadn’t heard a message left.
In the thin front room, he looked to the receiver and answering machine as if they would inherently hold answers. It might have been stupid to be so worked up over a phone call without a message. He’d heard of buttdials but never received one.
Once over the phone not even a foot away from the table, he heard the first sound that managed to worm its way through the line: Faint breathing. It was a little less than a crackle, each breath slight and drawn out, but it was there. He reached for the receiver without hesitation, but the line cut just before his hand reached the phone.
Useless, his arm dropped back to his side.
When he finally looked away from the phone, it was with a scoff.
He left the room, only for another ring to call him right back.
He managed to get the phone in his hand this time. He let it ring a single time in his hand.
And then the call ended.
Curiosity had turned into alarms, though Billy was still perfectly cool when he leaned against the wall by the tiny table with the receiver. He was expecting a call back as shortly as the previous had come through from the first.
Almost a minute passed without event in the front room.
In that minute, Billy wondered of course who the caller was but the frustration of waiting was already a sore and open wound that he didn’t like being picked at. That frustration bubbled inside of him, even as he kept his eyes level with the receiver. He managed to bring it down to a simmer when the embarrassment redirected the heat into the skin of his face.
As the minute drew to a close, he moved to slap the phone back down only to freeze when a shadow passed over his front porch.
It had been too large to be a bird or any animal reasonable for the area, but the warped, decorative glass along the panes of the front door disguised the figure before he could get his eye somewhere it was level enough to peer through.
With the chill of the glass against his face and one of his hands braced against the door, Billy’s shoulders jumped when the ring finally came through from his other hand.
He glared at the phone before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
With a beep, he’d picked up before the second ring could even start.
“Hello?”
“Hello. You picked up quickly that time.”
“You sound surprised.” Billy tilted his head back as he stalked over to the small table to again lean against it.
“... I think I have the wrong number.”
“Three times? In a row? What, did a girl give you a fake to get rid of you?”
“Oh no,” the guy laughed like there was a set up to a joke Billy had missed. “No, I was looking to meet up with a friend I haven’t seen in a while.”
“Well it looks like he wants to talk to you as much as I do. Bye.”
“Oh wait, hey there. Can I ask a question? Just to sate my curiosity?”
A chuckle made it out of Billy before he realized it, but he smothered it with a smirk and shook his head. “Sure, what is it?”
There was a shuffle on the other end and a scrape. Before he could hear more, the voice started up again, “There must have been a reason you took my call even though you knew I had the wrong house. Were you looking to talk to someone, too?”
The chuckle that came from Billy that time was welcome, and he let the man hear it while shaking his head. “Nope.”
He hung up.
The phone rang before he could replace it on the receiver, and he pressed “Hang up” again. It didn’t ring, and Billy thought that was that. At least, he’d tried to convince himself it was. It was the first part of handling this on his own terms.
Then the phone rang again while he was in the door way back to the kitchen.
He marched back over, hitting “answer” and immediately gritting out the words, “I will make sure you never get to see your ‘friend’ again if you don’t hang up for good. Capisce?”
There was a snort and a muffled hum before the line went quiet.
“Are you laughing at me, dickweed?”
When noise returned, it was the tailend of the man’s laughter, “Aww, baby boy Billy got left to be the man of the house all by himself. That little voicemail was just the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Why don’t you show your fucking face if you’re gonna talk shit!?”
“Aw, what’s wrong Billy-Boy? Hard to think of a real threat while you’re blinking back tears?”
“How’s this for a real threat: ‘I’m going to make you carry your teeth home in your hand when I find out who you are.’”
“I’m not too worried. Definitely not of the kind of guy who can’t practice basic safety. Tut-tut, talking to strangers and inviting them over? After midnight? Won’t your daddy be disappointed...”
“I’m a stranger, too,” he growled into the phone. “How do you know I’m not the dangerous one here?”
“It’s not going to change anything, Billy. You can be as dangerous as you’d like, but you can’t just be allowed to make stupid mistakes like this without some punishment. It’s the only way you’ll learn.”
Billy laughed wickedly as he peered out the front door, again allowing himself to settle against the wood.
With an easy smile, he said, “Is talking to you the stupid mistake? Because I promise I’ll never do it again.”
“No. It was leaving your window open.”
The phone was returned to the receiver, and Billy was standing once more in the doorway to the kitchen.
It was the only room between him and the living room with the window he’d left behind a moment before. All of that was dark, for all of Billy’s sulking in it, and he only moved forward in the confidence that the darkness gave him. If he couldn’t see, neither could his stalker.
There was also the chance this was just a prank. He hadn’t quite ruled out someone from school fucking with him. Plenty of kids liked to push his buttons even with his proximity to more well-liked students of Woodsboro. He’d have even admitted he deserved some of it.
Well if it was just someone seeking a reaction, they’d get what they were looking for.
He went to grab a knife from the kitchen block only to see that the knives and the very block of wood were all gone. He maintained his cool as well as his silence, deciding against reaching for the drawers lest their rattling clue his stalker in on his location.
Instead, he went for the rolling pin he knew was still sitting in a box on the floor by the fridge.
It came out wordlessly with help from his other hand steadying the case, and then he finally reached the living room with the bay window he’d occupied just moments before.
The center pane was clear of both glass and screen with the latter having been sawed through and ripped up to curl away from its face like the curl of a beckoning finger to whatever crazy had just broken into the wrong fucking house.
It had to have been someone he knew- someone who had known his dad would be gone on an office trip. He hoped that bastard fell off of their boat or had a heart attack in whatever lavish bed he was sleeping in while Billy was preparing to fight for his life.
In some ways, Billy had always pictured himself going out like this.
In most ways, Billy had never really pictured himself “going out” to begin with.
He backed away from the broken window before whirling around with his pin in hand after visibly clearing that corner of the room. It was a simple game of process and elimination from that point. He could keep sweeping the areas, and as long as he kept the element of surprise in check, he was confident he could take on any intruder.
There was nothing else in the living room either, though. He rounded to the coat closet, shifting his pin to be held more on center so that his other hand was free to pull the door open. Rather than the satisfaction of the pin making contact with this asshole’s skull, he was spurned further by the sight of an almost-empty closet.
He slammed it closed and waited in a crouch, listening for footsteps that never sounded in the house.
When the silence persisted, he jumped out to the side with his eyes on the kitchen. No figure loomed in his hall. He questioned if the light of the kitchen would have been bright enough for him to not notice a figure in the shadows. The far corner on the same wall as the door to the front room was especially dark from where Billy watched it in the doorway.
Surely he would have noticed the sound of whoever was moving around if they’d made it that far. Could they be along the wall where he couldn’t see past the doorway?
That was assuming he was still in the house. Then why remove the possible weapons?
Either way, leaving the house where this intruder still waited seemed too much like submission for his liking.
So he persisted with his makeshift club for only few more steps. When he reached the kitchen door way, he paused beside the closet to peak around the corner. A hand snared around his ankle and yanked his socked-foot backwards. The skin on his brow split open from the force. If he hadn’t broken his nose a couple of times already, Billy might have thought it was broken at that time with the sting in the center of his face and in his eyes. He blinked through it, swinging up his rolling pin. It was caught deftly by his attacker that he still couldn’t make out.
The bastard was still pulling his foot out from under the couch, but his lengthy body managed to already have his hands over Billy, and he put all of his weight onto Billy’s arms as he rose up. By the time the figure fully wrestled the pin out of his hands, Billy could make out that his attacker’s face was hidden behind a pale mask that stood out on the rest of his black-cloaked form.
Then the figure was kneeling over him. Billy lunged at him with a punch, trying to pull up his knee at the same time to kick him off when the guy dodged, but the figure just tanked the hit in favor of pressing Billy’s leg down with his own knee. The sharpness of the pin in combination with the attacker’s returned smack across the face forced Billy to wind back. The small opening was taken by the masked man who used his turn to grab Billy’s arm. He pinned him to his side, Billy’s other arm weighed down by his own body as well as the force of his attacker pushing him down.
“Fuck off, man! You had your fucking fun.”
The mask stilled in his peripheral vision, and it shook from side to side as if in answer.
“What the fuck could you mean ‘No!?’”
The man didn’t answer, choosing instead to move his knee up Billy’s side to better weigh him down.
“Come, on you were so chatty on the phone,” he tried again, laughing in spite of his inability to move- to act. If the only thing he could do was run his mouth- “Hey- hey, if this... You’re Brady Jenson, right? Or a friend of his. If this is about the fake finger, I promise it was totally sterile. Could even use it on your girlfriend if you-” Billy grunted as his hands were forced further behind his back. When something thin started to circle them, he picked up the fight again. He flailed wildly, managing to get an elbow in his attacker’s face but it wasn’t enough to throw him off entirely.
They wrestled with a knee against Billy’s ribs and his hand coiling uselessly in the billowing sleeve of his attacker’s costume. After slamming the bastard’s head into the tile, Billy tried to gain some distance by leaping forward but the leg lock they were still wrapped in meant his attacker’s knee was returned to his side soon after. This time, he was totally on his stomach and his hands were being pinned against the small of his back. They were tightly secured there with the soft clicks of a ziptie, and Billy was running out of ways to make this worse when he felt cold steel scrape against where his wrists met his palms.
He held his breath and readied himself to give one final push. He timed it with what he could make out of the man’s ghastly shadow in the moonlight against the kitchen wall. It was a faint image, but Billy was still able to see when he’d his knife over his head.
Billy snapped up on the side without the raised arm, headbutting the rubber mask before shucking the man and jogging to the front hall. He managed to swing the door separating the kitchen from the front room and then pressed his luck by shuffling the desk away from the wall- the phone letting out a flat dial tone as it bounced off of the receiver. It was just the length of the front room, and therefor enough to keep the guy from following him. It wasn’t enough to keep him from poking one of the haunting eyes of his mask through the door and swiping wildly at the air with his blade.
The idea to rush the door closed came to mind as quickly as it was dismissed, and he turned toward the stairs with his arms still bound behind his back. All the while, he cursed himself for having been stupid enough to stop and stare without maximizing his own distance. If that idiot found out how to move that table while he’d still been down there, it would have been game over.
Luckily, Billy was now in his room and he had already locked his door from the inside without much trouble and turning the light on had given him even less. There hadn’t been any noise from the front room, so that meant the table hadn’t been moved, as there wasn’t much room to move a table of even that size without Billy hearing it from the top of the stairs.
He’d considered that a good sign, but didn’t hesitate to continue his path to his desk drawer. It was a catch all for anything he wanted to clear off, but it also held at least two pocket knives. Just as he found a comfortable position to dig, he heard a tiny tink-tink-tink across the room.
The masked attacker was standing on the roof outside of the window above his bed. The large, black eyes of his mask bore into Billy. Still the man did not speak, simply tilting his head and offering a taunting wave while Billy continued to blindly dig through the drawer behind him in as controlled of a frenzy as he could manage.
In his room with the lights on and glass between them, Billy felt more exposed than he had in the kitchen when he’d been under the man. He thought of snakes on display in their brightly-lit terrariums, and his hands kept moving behind him in the drawer.
As previously mentioned, Billy Loomis had never pictured himself being taken out in a Slasher. He’d always thought he’d make it out- that he could join other dubious horror survivors, like he was The Thing that had managed to walk out with MacReady’s face.
That had always been his interpretation, anyway.
But when the man stooped down in front of the window to the bottom portion- which he’d also left open like some God-damned forgettable first victim people throw popcorn at when he hits the screen- he couldn’t help the image of his face contorted in pain and agony in the wake of the blade with too-bright blood running over his chest before it smashed into the title-card.
The stalker’s knife screamed softly against the screen of his window.
Billy found the scalloped edges of the safety on one of his own knives and almost lost it in shock. He got it open before he allowed the shame to slow him further. Adrenaline took over when a hand balled into a fist around the front of his shirt and Billy was whipped forward onto the floor. The carpet was more forgiving than the wood, but Billy was more focused on keeping hold of his still-open knife.
He swung with incoherent noises, constantly lashing his still-bound arms in whatever direction he could guess the guy was in. The guy spectated Billy while he was unable to even make an audible threat, shaking his head slowly before kneeling down in front of him.
Billy stilled for only a second. Then he was hyping himself up for one last push of strength, using his legs to propel him forward in an attempt to land the knife inside of the man at the least. He’d make sure the whole crime scene had just as much of this guy in it as there would be of Billy.
Or more.
The attacker caught him and shoved him over so that the soft of his stomach was jabbed by the waiting edge of his desk.
The man stood slowly after that, taking a long breath while he circled under Billy’s ceiling fan and turned the light off with the tug of a string.
Then he dragged Billy up by the shoulders and from the front, hefting him into his own chest and fanning his fingers out over Billy’s forearms. He stroked down Billy’s arms, and Billy could feel the chuckle rumble through the man’s chest at the same time it cut through what had otherwise been a duet of their ragged breaths.
He flinched his arms up, but with the grip on his wrists, it wasn’t hard for the man to crush their bodies impossibly closer together. When he finally wrestled the knife away from Billy with his gloved fingers, it was just as soon discarded to the bedroom floor. Then he stood Billy up and turned him toward his own bed, kneeling over the edge of it with his hips against the corner.
He kicked out his leg but the other man was already on top of him- pressing him into the mattress and pinning his legs in place. A sudden wave of dread swept over Billy and he writhed up the length of the bed before being pulled back by his center belt strap.
That had him incensed. Just the suggestion of it was enough, but in combination with the knowledge that he was beyond the point of surviving- much less winning against this man- Billy was likewise forced to confront the fact that he was totally helpless. He sucked in a breath and let it out in a slow shudder before yelling and giving lashing out with his arms one last try.
When he didn’t hit him, the man pulled down on the loop and tugged down his pants between their bodies along with his boxers. He cringed at the feeling of the glossy fabric of this freak’s costume fluttering down his exposed backside.
“Is this what you fucking do!?” Billy yelled. When he didn’t get a verbal answer and the man didn’t stop, he groaned. “At least kill me first!”
The figure shook his head and grabbed Billy by the back of his shirt to turn him around. His legs fell open for a moment, but tucking them together only made him feel a bit better once the open air met with the lips of his hole and his clit dick where it peaked out from his hood.
The freak stood with his knees around one of Billy’s and used one of them to pin Billy’s mirrored shin to the bed. He was visibly inspecting his groin, and Billy took it as a win to know that it had been a shocking discovery. The victory of the man’s small surprise was short lived as the man rolled his hips forward and Billy felt evidence of the other’s arousal burning a hole through his inner thigh. At the same time, he moved one of his gloved hands forward toward Billy’s dick.
Billy snapped up with the intent to head butt but the guy stood up instead. Billy pulled him back down with his teeth, his mouth full of whatever fabric from the black tunic he’d managed bite into.
He wrestled the man down to his side with their legs still locked and Billy kept trying to bite through his shirt, but the layered material was as difficult to get through as it was to keep a hold of and soon he was down on his back with his knees by his ears as this guy bent him in half with his semi pressed tight against the cleft of Billy’s ass.
He shifted his grip to the tops of Billy’s thighs, arms circled around his legs to keep them from moving from his shoulders. The attacker trailed his hand down and over Billy’s hip and then angled those hips along with his own shoulders to enable him to rub his dick in shallow circles.
Billy’s head flopped backwards in a desperate attempt to block out what was happening. No way he was going out like Cheryl Williams. He deserved Judy Williams at the least.
The material of the gloves chafed the head of his dick, and he held back any noise along with his breath in fear that he might let something slip. It was the last line of defense in the name of what was once his self-control. He wouldn’t allow himself anything else.
Then they were turned again, and this time the bastard knelt on his hands over his thigh with Billy’s other leg held up on his shoulder. He tried to wrestle away when the guy let go to open a small package he thought was a condom, his leg was kept up just from the strength of the arm curled around him.
Like this, the man was both on top of and behind him with no way for Billy to move his torso to face him without dislocating his shoulder.
When the guy reached under his mask to seemingly pull off his glove with his teeth, he was trying to escape all over again with a similar lack of results. That was when Billy realized the package was lube.
He reached down with his gloveless hand, and it glistened briefly in the light by his window. Billy swore it did it so much brighter than the glint of any other weapon.
“Help!” Billy finally screamed into the open woods before he could think, his voice strained with the weight of what was about to happen to him.
To Billy, who lived in the middle of no where and who wasn’t expecting anyone to come over until the next weekend. Movie Night. Then his dad would be home the day after.
Maybe they would call? Maybe someone would drop in? As the first finger slid into his backside, Billy was certain this was still the kind of intruder to leave a corpse rather than a living testimony.
He was trying to ignore the sensations from his asshole. They weren’t pleasant, but they weren’t painful unless the exploring digit jabbed at his walls.
The pervert was wrapped around Billy’s thigh to get a better angle in the dark room. Billy couldn’t imagine what he was able to see out of that stupid mask, but he didn’t feel any better when the damn thing looked directly at him.
That mask neared his head, resting against the side of his skull as if trying to mouth at his face. He openly wretched in disgust and turned to snap at the mask only for his teeth to slip off of the material with a useless squeak.
The man chuckled again and started adding the third finger
Billy’s toes curled against the pain and he had to catch himself from hyperventilating, but holding his breath resulted in just that. He was stretched wide around the three, broad digits that were soon being worked in and out of his ass. He yelled, he gasped, and he fought even when it just made the pain worse. After not even a few full seconds, the hand withdrew and he was pitifully spanked twice in firm, upward motions. It was enough to make him stop, even if he started trying to move his legs again as soon as it ended.
That landed him back on his stomach, and the fingers reentered him. It just two until the man had regained his leverage with his full weight pinning Billy to the bed and his arms to his back.
Now the only way he could struggle was by moving his one free leg, but it didn’t allow any wider a range of motion than he’d had when both of his legs were in some way pinned. It definitely wasn’t enough to keep the guy’s fingers out of him, and the bit he was able to shift his hips only made the feeling of him digging around inside of Billy even less bearable.
Then the fingers were removed of their own accord and Billy heard the growl of a zipper being undone in the otherwise still room.
Open window, no gag, and he’d already cried for help, but there wasn’t anyone around to hear him. The only person that could have heard him at that time was the man over him, and Billy didn’t want to give him the tears and pleas he was no doubt looking for. At the very least, no more than he already had.
The man adjusted his hips again, straddling Billy’s thighs as he laid what had to have been the length of his cock over Billy’s ass. He was stiff, though Billy was trying to focus more on the sensation of his nails biting into his palms than the feeling of anything below his waist. Then the tip started to enter him, and he was breathing quickly through his teeth the same way he might if he had banged his elbow or stubbed his toe.
It hurt more than both of those, though. A spike of pain shot his torso off of the bed only for him to again land pinned down with the man’s body flush with his back. With just his weight on Billy’s back and his cock joining them together, the man removed both of his hands from Billy. There was a shuffle, and darkness started to cover Billy's eyes before he'd even realized the man had been removing his mask.
That had Billy thrashing again, just trying to get a look at the asshole’s face. The only success for his efforst was the trouble the man had to go through to get the mask over Billy’s own head so that the eye holes lined up with his face.
With his peripherals obscured by the black sides of the cowl, Billy found his noose had tightened ever further. When the man breathed by his ear, it still felt like he was right over Billy’s skin with no barrier between them. He lifted the cowl entirely around his neck to kiss and nip at his nape.
The motions sent a mix of goosebumps down his back as Billy tried again to worm away from the man.
How long was this going to go on!? Taking off his mask during a kill?
Billy was going to be killed by a fucking amateur, and he was going to be found raped and left dead for days if this guy didn’t already know how long it would be until he next expected visitors.
At least Maureen had been found the night she’d died.
Didn’t Billy deserve better than Maureen!?
She hadn’t even been actually-
The cock was moving inside of him, and Billy couldn’t prevent the murmur that left him at the pressure change. As it filled him up further, he gasped and choked when his throat spasmed before he could exhale. The hands had returned to his body- one on his shoulder while the other pulled Billy’s hips up and put him onto one of his knees. It allowed the man to get his fingers back on his dick, which wasn’t something Billy thought he’d cared about and he wished desperately the other man would ignore. He was pleased when the fingers didn’t enter that hole, just flanking his dick and pumping him before scooping to swirl around his head in quick motions that he kept in time with his thrusts.
Billy bit down on his lower lip in a vain attempt to muffle his moan, but the rumbling of laughter at his back let him know he couldn’t save himself from even that humiliation.
Further kisses were pressed to his neck, and the pace continued. Billy had more success keeping the noises away outside of a choked gasp or the stray groan. The discomfort in his ass had diminished. It wasn’t notable for its pain nor pleasure, but the lubed fingers working his dick was an embarrassingly familiar sensation. Even with everything else going on, his body couldn’t seem to tell the difference between Billy jerking off in his room on a night with nothing better to do and his getting pinned down and used like a toy by a stranger.
Though his betrayal was so deeply felt, his own hatred of his body’s responses didn’t stop his dick from hardening. It didn’t even dry up the traitorous hole that those offending fingers dipped into every now and again like his own personal supply of lube.
Then those same fingers stopped. The man kept fucking him, and for a minute Billy thought he’d given up on trying to make him like it.
Maybe this was the part where he was finally stabbed.
Shlllrrp. Mmm- lup. Shlrp.
Shudders tore through Billy from head to toe as he made out the sound of licking. Exaggerated and explicit licking.
The bastard was tasting him and getting off on it.
Billy shot his head back in the hopes of hitting him again. That attempt was met with the man pressing his face flush against Billy’s and holding it there with his nose buried in the cowl- audibly smelling him through the fabric before the man groaned and somehow picked up the already brutal pace.
That made Billy moan loudly, too shocked to stop the noise and at that point almost too far gone to care. He was on the edge of the remnants of sanity, and he could feel his fingers slipping around the corner he was desperately trying to hold onto. He could wait for an opening. If this guy stood up, maybe Billy could kick him off. And then what?
And then whatever it took after that.
The sharp corner metaphorically digging into his palms mirrored the pain caused by his own nails just as his curled fingers shook from the effort of holding onto nothing.
Then the man finally returned his hand to his dick, and Billy had somehow forgotten it was off for that entire time he was calling out. He was taking in quick pulls of air through his teeth that ended in a deep yell. He could feel dampness clinging to his eyelashes as they caught on the layer of fabric under the mask.
He could also feel the center of his stomach start to tighten and sink toward his pelvis, and the man didn’t let up.
“Stop...” he murmured, bile already burning in his throat, “Stop this. Now.”
The man slowed, but Billy’s hopes that this was over weren’t so high that they were crushed when he just found a better angle with Billy’s legs parted and them both turned onto their sides. Even with the man’s height and undoubted strength, Billy was surprised he was still this easy to manhandle. Had the chase taken so much out of him?
It was as if the cock fucking him was sapping him of his strength as easily as it was destroying his mind. The admission of that was a dangerous one, but one that he didn’t have the luxury of being able to ignore.
“Ahck-!” he yelled when the man’s teeth broke the skin on his neck. Hot breaths of laughter shot over the mouthful of flesh. Billy could picture a dark fog gathering from the man’s mouth, even if his mind still couldn’t place a face.
The man rang his tongue over the fresh mark though Billy couldn’t see if he’d managed to draw blood. It felt like he had.
The man was freely moaning into his ear and Billy was beyond fury, limp while his anger burned away any ideas that tried to take shape in his head. The heat of it intensified for himself as well as the man above him, and it continued to grow with each indignity added to the pyre.
A loud moan from the man behind him broke his thoughts and held them as it ended in a low growl just under Billy’s ear.
Billy sucked in a breath and bit off the cry that tried to escape him as he was invaded over and over. The fingers dipped below his dick to gather his fluids before resuming their own brutal pace.
“Did you like my costume, Billy?”
The whisper made Billy jolt with recognition, and he tried again uselessly to turn onto his back and stare at the man’s face.
It wasn’t the voice from the phone, but he knew it all the same.
“S-Stu!?” he gasped before the cowl was dragged from his head.
The comparatively cool air of the open room was a light slap in the face in the wake of the blow dealt by seeing Stu smiling. He paused over Billy’s shoulder, adjusting them so that they were somewhat facing each other for the first time since the mask had been on Billy’s head.
“That’s right, baby.” Stu brushed back the hair that had been stuck to Billy’s forehead.
Billy’s hands relaxed and he felt a strange thankfulness that he recognized the intruder after all, any questions about why someone he’d considered trustworthy would do this to him left behind with a majority of Billy’s fear.
It was hard to process, and so his brain didn’t even attempt to filter the situation through a lens of logic. From that point, it was all about his emotions and the sensation of Stu dragging in and out of his hole. When a coherent comment on the situation did make it through, it would just as soon slip away like a large fish jumping in and out of water.
Stu’s dick is inside me.
Stu is raping me.
Stu could have killed me.
“You still with me, buddy?” Stu breathed in his ear without the mask to serve as a barrier. This time, the huff of breath over his skin sent a wave of goosebumps down his neck.
Billy turned toward him limply, which Stu took as an invitation to seal their mouths together in an open kiss. His tongue was rough when it explored Billy’s mouth and his own tongue worked on autopilot to meet with Stu’s in a dance. He could feel drool seep past their lips and down his face. He could even feel inside of their mouths were Stu scooped and explored with his tongue as if looking for even more of Billy that he could take from him.
When he regained what little sense he could, Billy bit him on the lower lip, pulling and nipping until Stu managed to clack their foreheads together and get him to let go.
He was able to see Stu push his tongue into the space between his lower lip and his teeth, and Billy was pissed that he hadn’t left a hole or even broken the skin before he’d been shaken off.
“Hey...” Stu’s voice was low as if trying to calm a spooked horse. His hips were still moving, though they had slowed, and his hand was still working gentle circles around Billy’s dick. “I know you don’t like surprises, but we were still talking about disguises this time around, and I thought if I just showed up with this costume, that you’d just call it stupid. So I wanted to give you a screen test. I mean- heh- you’re a Friday 2 fan for a reason, right?”
“And putting your dick in me?”
“I thought it’d make it special.”
Billy had forgotten about... That part of Stu. The kind that saw Billy as a different kind partner. He hadn’t thought about what kind of things a guy messed up enough to help him with his vision would do to an “object of affection” when given free reign. Maybe he should have taken more time when arranging expectations about their “relationship.” That may have avoided this.
“Besides,” Stu went on, “there was no way you’d let me stab you before our big finale, right? This is almost just as good.”
“And since when have I said I’d let you fuck me!?”
Billy tried to pull himself away but Stu yanked him back with ease and bracketed him close with his arm over Billy’s chest.
He started to pump his hips as quickly as he could while holding his fingers in place over Billy’s dick. The movement of Billy’s own hips being bounced by Stu’s new pace was enough to keep him quiet. In tandem with the frontal stimulation, it was enough to keep him anything but quiet. He even faced forward to keep Stu from seeing the dumb way he could feel his eyes rolling up.
When he could hear again, he realized he’d been letting out a low, whining groan throughout the stretch of time, and it took him a minute to swallow the noise back with gritted teeth.
“Come on, don’t be a sore loser. I caught you, Billy. I caught you.”
Billy hadn’t thought the dog had it in him. “Were you too impatient to wait for Casey?” he managed to grind out between his teeth.
“I don’t want Casey like I want this,” he sad while he splayed the hand on Billy’s dick instead over where his inner thigh met his groin. Stu slowed his hips to a more gentle pace and pressed his fingers down to drag his fingers purposefully and firmly over the tendons of his hip. The soft skin there flinched from the unfamiliar touch. “Just let me make you feel good.”
He returned to stroking Billy’s dick and his hips returned to their previous rhythm. His mouth was hot against Billy’s neck as open-mouthed kisses punctuated laps of his tongue. With both of them unmasked, Billy suddenly felt frustratingly further exposed if that was even possible. It should have been nothing for Stu to see his face fall after everything he’d already seen of Billy just that night. He’d seen him pleasured, pained, and all but bursting into tears, and Billy could even see it getting there if this kept up for much longer.
Billy was coming apart like a wilting flower- petals sprawling out from where they’d previously been held tightly together by his rotting core. Each dying petal left him with less of a shield to hide behind.
By unmasking himself, Stu had started to pluck away more of those petals.
Gone was any fear of being killed, and in its place were questions Billy didn’t have the strength or presence to ask. Among them was something warm that filled Billy alongside the girth of Stu’s cock. He was still hopelessly turned on despite his best efforts, and he knew feeding into this side of Stu would make him harder to control, but Billy didn’t even have any control over his own mouth when he turned over his shoulder to press his lips to the corner of Stu’s.
Stu flinched out of the range of his mouth, his lips curling into grin as he looked Billy over. When had he gotten so calculating?
Maybe he’d stolen away Billy’s ability to process simple cause and effect with his vampiric bite. It would certainly explain why Billy found himself shifting his hips back in time with Stu’s thrusts as a whine bubbled in the back of his throat.
The gloved fingers threaded from his chest to guide Billy’s head up. It was an uncomfortable, forced angle, but it was the one that allowed their mouths to meet again. Billy melted into that sensation against every sense of self-preservation in his body, and Stu rewarded him by bringing them closer and relaxing the twist of his spine. The hand previously crushing Billy to his chest was now trailing down his lower back, his touches small and almost reverent.
And that was the only thing that kept Billy from snapping out of whatever spell Stu had cast when he’d revealed himself- that conditional comfort. It had been comforting to place his face to the force holding him down- to even be able to say he knew it was Stu’s cock using his ass and that it was Stu who was trying to make him cum.
Stu was the one laughing into Billy’s mouth and groping him, and this wasn’t the final scene. This wasn’t the end of his story, and he still had enough control to retake his place as the leading character. He didn’t want to think about that or anything else in that moment, though.
It was as if by taking the place of his attacker, Stu had transformed into a savior of some sort, even when he continued mercilessly fucking Billy up his own mattress with one hand on his dick and the other fluttering up his shirt to pull down on where his neck fed into his shoulder. Still dressed in the black cloak, Stu’s face had replaced that of Billy’s reaper.
Billy keened as he was turned away from their fiery kiss by the hand, and wasn’t conscious enough to realize the needy moans filling the room were coming from him. He forgot to be embarrassed when Stu pulled out almost all of the way before slamming back in in a way that made Billy groan in the back of his throat. He did a few more thrusts like that- jabbing in and out just slowly enough for Billy to feel the tension of where their bodies were joined- and then it was back to jackhammering into him while the circles around his dick sped up.
Stu slowed his fingers and pinched at the base of his dick under his hood, and he again sank his teeth into the mark from prior. If he hadn’t drawn blood before, Billy felt it spill out at that moment. He wasn't sure whether the warm liquid going down his neck was a glob of it or Stu’s slobber. He lapped it off of Billy’s neck all the same. It was a shallow bit, and he pulled another overlapping segment of flesh between his teeth by lightly sucking. This time he used his teeth more to hold it in place.
Billy gasped and moaned at the combination of pain and pleasure. The noise prompted Stu to pump his fingers on either side of his dick before resuming in circles.
Those damned circles kept going as if Stu was literally winding him up until Billy came with his legs spread, evidence of his orgasm leaking down his thighs and into Stu’s lap. He kept moving his fingers and fucking Billy through the orgasm, and Billy lacked any ability to tell him to stop. He couldn’t even process if his dick hurt or if it was just the exhaustion, but the motion of Stu eagerly driving into his ass was too much for him to process while attempting to speak. He managed to gasp out a few incoherent noises, but Stu only laughed and kissed the side of his face before panting in his hear like a dog.
Then Stu came inside of him, stilling for a moment. Billy felt himself be filled and then the pumping his of Stu’s hips just a few more times as if intending on keeping as much of his spend inside of Billy as he could.
Only then did he pull out, rolling Billy onto his back with his arms still under him and Stu now fully visible where he laid against his side. His gloved hand was still trailing up Billy’s chest under his shirt, and it traced too-soft patterns across his stomach and sides as he laid down to admire the boy he’d just fucked mindlessly.
Billy wasn’t too into the idea of talking when he finally regained his voice and his body was no longer screaming for oxygen. He knew he was going to be sore in so many different ways when he woke up.
And of course, there was still the matter of the man still in bed with him who hadn’t moved yet to untie his arms.
Glaring at him but unwilling to ask for that outright, he asked instead, “You proud of yourself?”
Stu’s lips shot into a tiny frown as he got closer, the only sound around them being the sheets rustling as he moved closer to study Billy’s face in the almost darkness. Billy studied him in turn while also trying to appear as neutral over all as he could. Stu wasn’t doing a good job of the latter himself, if he’d even thought to mask his intentions when approaching Billy or if his face was really just that unreadable sometimes. How hadn’t Billy seen this coming?
When had he started planning this?
As if it was the only thing that mattered, Stu asked, “Did you like it?”
Before the question was even finished being asked, Billy had felt his own upper lip recoil and his brow tense. Still, the “No” would not form, lost under a sea of other things he wanted Stu to know about this night- That “for the first time in his life, Billy Loomis had felt true fear and desperation at his hands” and that “Billy would one day kill Stu for this” both being among them- but he did not say any of them.
“I hoped you liked it because it’s not happening ever again.”
Stu pouted but sat back on his heels, which blessedly removed him from the patch of ceiling Billy could see as he was still working on regaining his breath.
After a moment, Stu’s mouth split open in a smile that Billy could still make out from the corner of his eye. “That was your ‘first time,’ wasn’t it?”
Billy managed to glare at him, still panting as he worked up enough venom to spit.
With a deliberate smirk, he said “Is that what you want me to say? That you were ‘my first?’”
It had been Billy’s first time, but that mattered less than the way Stu’s face crumpled under the weight of his confusion. He shook his head quickly, as if he’d just remembered how to do so or that he’d just been expecting a different reaction.
“No,” he finally said. “Just curious...” He retook his position against Billy’s side the same way Billy had seen him slot next to Tatum if they were laying on the grass. Just like it would have with her, his hand started to trail lower to rest on Billy’s hip. “So, when were you going to tell me about this?”
His hand started moving more inward than he’d seen done to Tatum, so Billy pulled away a second time to be out of Stu’s grip.
He wasn’t pulled back this time.
“Never.”
“Oh- okay... I’m good, though! I’m not like, grossed out or nothing.”
Billy laughed, but didn’t say anything, just letting himself ride out the wave emotions after everything that had transpired in the last hour. Stu knowing about his body wasn’t anything Billy would overly concern himself with.
Obviously he trusted him enough to keep a secret.
Thinking Billy cared at all about what he thought, Stu went on, “No, not- not that I should have been! I just wasn’t expecting-”
“I know what you were expecting.” Billy didn’t want to hear it. “And you did it anyway. Fucking fag.”
Stu sat up slowly, tilting his head like a german shepherd before a cruel smile spread over his face. It was the same he might put on if Randy tried to get him with a tricky trivia question or if Tatum was trying and failing to give him the silent treatment.
“I’m only a fag for you, Billy. I promise,” he said as he leaned down to peck a kiss onto Billy’s cheek, and he slipped his own pocket knife under the ties.