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Mac is nothing to Dennis. He's nothing to Philadelphia or the United States or anyone. He’s insignificant, useless, a pointless playing piece in a game of corporate suits and names Dennis is supposed to remember, but chooses not to. Sometimes Dennis realises that this is true for him too. But he's the Golden God and whoever thinks they're worth more than him, they're wrong. Dennis is the entire fucking sun and he'll burn anyone who gets near him.
Mac's resembles something more of a star. A protégé, a dream of being anything like Dennis. Or maybe just to be bright enough to be noticed. Dennis knows Mac worships him like the moon worships the sun. Maybe Mac is the moon. Reflecting the light rays Dennis gives off whilst offering nothing of his own. Maybe metaphors are stupid. Dennis brushes off the idea and sweeps himself back into reality. The gang is watching him, expecting him to speak, Mac looks concerned and he always looks fucking pitiful, it's disgusting. Dennis doesn't know what's happening.
"Do your plan, I don't care," he spits. He's always angry, God knows why, (but if he is God, surely he should know. Fuck.) "Just leave me out of it," everyone moves away, expressions of annoyance and grumbling something about how 'Dennis is a dick' and Dennis rolls his eyes and downs the beer he hadn't realised he was holding. Why wouldn't he be holding a beer? Mac hasn't left and Dennis wants to throw the empty bottle at his head. He slams it on the bar instead. Not as satisfying. But Mac flinches anyway, so it's good enough. He has control over his rage.
"What?" he says, loud and clear and without a hint of anger because he is controlling himself and Mac is already scared of him, so there's no point in pushing it further. Not yet. But Mac can't look him in the eyes again and he deserves more respect than this. Dennis can bunch his hands into fists without punching anyone however, he has self-restraint for somethings. Dennis can smell fear and Mac is soaked in it. Its self-satisfying knowing this is the effect he has over Mac. Fear means he has power, and that’s all he wants.
Mac looks at his own hand which is wrapped around a beer bottle like a lifeline, the only thing keeping him grounded and his only weapon if Dennis attacks him. Sometimes Mac can be smart. "I'm worried about you," he whispers, and no, Mac could never be smart, Mac is stupid and uneducated and shouldn't try to be introspective around Dennis like he's trying to be. He'll only get confused and then scared for all the wrong reasons. The reasons Dennis can't control. Dennis needs control over every emotion Mac can feel. If Mac gets too scared he’ll distance himself, and then Dennis will lose everything he’s worked towards.
He bites his lip and knows Mac's watching this action, Dennis notices everything, and Mac is shit at hiding these things anyway, and every action Dennis uses is to make Mac uncomfortable, “Well, you shouldn't be," Dennis replies sharply, seeing Mac tense up, waiting for fury to hit him tooth and nail like feral dogs devouring a cat. It won't though, not this time. Dennis is in control of this situation too, and Mac will leave if he knows what's good for him. Mac doesn't know what's good for him however. Mac doesn’t know what’s good for him.
"Well if you ever want to actually admit somethings up, you can,” and Dennis is losing it. He doesn't know what 'it' is, his temper, his ability to care or feel. Perhaps he's losing himself entirely. Either way, he's going to snap like an elastic band, and it's going to sting like a bitch on Mac's sore excuse for pride. Everything is tainted red like blood and Dennis’ lips are drawn back like a snarling wolf, cruel and unforgiving.
"Get out of here and do your pathetic excuse for a scheme before I slap you just for thinking you can look at me with those sad puppy dog eyes," it wasn't threatening, it was weak for Dennis and he was just tired and off his game. Mac took the bait, that was enough to scare him, prof he fears death even with the faithful plan that God is waiting for him. So he finishes his beer and scuttles out like the rats that sometimes escape the basement, a wild eyed Charlie always behind it. Dennis hates cleaning the blood off the floor. That's why he keeps Mac around, because he can do anything he wants to him and there's never anything to clean up. Nothing ever happens and that's just the way they like to remember it as.
-
Morning light filters in the between the curtains, hitting Dennis in golden streaks that he know makes him look more than perfect, a supernatural figure of beauty that shouldn't be living on this poor excuse for Earth. Dennis is this world's savior; one day he'll kill everyone who commits an offence against him. He'll rid this world of all wrong and everything will be right. He’ll be a true god. Dennis doesn't actually care what happens in the world, it doesn't affect him.
Mac is in bed next to him. Mac is laughing. Mac is crying. Dennis doesn't feel anything. He draws in the smoke from the cigarette in his fingers and blows it out again, the trail of gray floating to their familiar yellow patch on the ceiling. It fills his lungs and calms the twitch under his skin. It makes Mac cough, feeble and pathetic. Dennis looks beautiful. Naked under the sheets and filling the room with a layer of smoke that gives a mask to his true beauty. But no one gives him the correct amount of attention, he deserves so much better. He'll settle for Mac, Mac treats him how he expects to be treated. Most of the time.
Dennis grabs hold of Mac's chin with strong fingers, twisting his neck and Dennis kisses him, because it's his right to do so. Mac tastes disgusting, of salt from recent tears and cum from the night before and Mac is shaking because last night 'was the last time' as was last week and every time they've fucked for this past year. Mac shouldn't fear the devil anymore; he’s in bed with him right now. Dennis pushes his tongue into Mac's mouth and Mac opens up because he loves the taste of Dennis even if smoke is still on his tongue, plaguing Mac's lungs as well as his own. It doesn't matter, because they'll always be able to share each other's breath.
Mac always obliges to Dennis' advances, he loves them more than he's able to hate them. Dennis knows he's sweet on Mac's tongue, and he's soft whilst also being rough, he knows enough about Mac's porn habits to know what he likes. Still, Dennis keeps it fairly vanilla, he doesn't want to scare Mac away. The process to get this far is slow and though Dennis knows Mac will follow him anywhere, he'll take each step to Hell one at a time, not leap the flight of stairs all together.
But Dennis loves taking advantage of the body that he now hovers over. Once a person becomes a viable option for sex, they aren't so much a someone with a name and emotions that people apparently feel all the time to Dennis. They're just a body for Dennis to manipulate, and this one has always been the most fun. Dennis dips his head, nibbling over marks that were made just the night before, an automatic smirk pulling at his lips as Mac moans, loud and clear in the morning stillness and it's so bright and everything is visible and this is the most Mac has ever been able to see so no wonder his eyes are closed. He's still sobbing. He needs to decide what the fuck he really wants. Dennis won't wait forever.
"Baby boy," Dennis whispers, he knows Mac is hard and how to push his buttons further, “I’m gonna fuck you now," and Mac whimpers, so pathetic and whiny and it grates Dennis' skull, that noise will stay in his mind for too long. However any time is too long because nothing deserves to stay with Dennis for a prolonged period, especially not the body that was trying to grind on his leg like a desperate teenage. Have some self-respect.
Dennis fucks Mac good and slow, a lazy early morning fuck that meant nothing other than to stave him off for a few hours, get that itch that held itself deep under his skin that the cigarettes can’t reach away. If Dennis felt anything for Mac, he could say he looked beautiful. It was probably the lighting or the fact he'd just woken up, but this was the first time he was watching Mac's face, and even if his eyes are clamped shut, he can't do the same for his mouth, and he seems to know Dennis gets off on all forms of praises. Ankles hook around Dennis' back whilst Dennis sucks little bruises across Mac's chest whilst he remains paralysed in a blissful void of nothingness except Dennis.
Mac is just as significant and the squeak of the bed frame when it comes to Dennis getting off, he can yell about how Dennis is too good for him, even call Dennis his own God, something that makes Dennis' skin glow gold, he's sure of it, but none of it means anything. "You're mine, my boy," Dennis whispers, latching onto Mac's jaw as he gasps and comes, and Dennis does the same because it's routine and it's what he's supposed to do. It feels good, it always feels good with Mac, but at the same time it's just another fuck he doesn't actually care about.
Mac is in euphoria, he's stopped crying for once and Dennis doesn't understand how he can believe he's a badass. And Dennis kisses his lips one more time, sweet how he knows Mac will like it, sweet and slow and making it seem like Dennis has loyalties to Mac. He can pretend to have
feelings, that's how he's survived the world so far, and it's all worked well. Mac can't tell he doesn't mean any of it. Mac looks good in this lighting, he should take a picture just as proof the slob he lives with can be attractive, especially with hair that Dennis' fingers know so well and a blank expression.
And Dennis rolls off, back to the other side of the bed, picking up his cigarette as Mac is crying again. It's a ruthless cycle, but that's what happens when you're the sun, sometimes you have to rise and all your mistakes are visible again.
-
Dennis knows what it's like to die. He knows because he’s experienced his own death all his life. It's becoming more frequent now however. Dennis is losing control of himself and he's terrified. He sits on the floor in the corner of his room and grips his knees and everything is hot and cold and his vision is green and blue and nothing in this world is real.
Breathing is something he's forgotten how to do, and he’s doing for the first time, everything is too fast and it's scary not exciting and he's going to scream like a baby as well. His chest is tight, it's suffocating him, and he’s collapsing from the inside out. He knows he's about to die, and he doesn't care.
A clatter and a bang and Mac is home. Dennis feels relief, but his door is locked and no one can save him, the Devil's grip on his heart is too tight. "Yo, Den, don't disturb me cause I'm banging a hot /girl/," emphasis on girl. Mac is straight and nothing Dennis has done for him will prove otherwise. Dennis could laugh if he remembered how. He doesn't remember anything.
He can remember the way Mac felt underneath him, on top of him, on his knees for him. He can imagine the girl getting the treated the way Dennis should be. He's angry now. Mac would treat a random girl better because 'God' allows it. The Golden God doesn't want this. Mac's rough and unpracticed and no longer scared because this is the way it's supposed to be for him. Mac is straight and everything Dennis knows is wrong.
Maybe Mac will still cry afterwards, because what he's doing isn't him. No one could ever feel as good as Dennis. Once you bang Dennis Reynolds anyone else fails in comparison. Dennis’ milky skin and strong hands and sultry words aren’t something to be forgotten. Dennis can hear Mac's moans and he can imagine his currently rapid breathing mixing with Mac's as it has done before. Dennis haunts every part of Mac's life and he isn't going to let this slide.
Dennis remembers that his body is his own and stands up. Everything is swimming around his vision and he could pretend he's drunk but he's not happy enough. It feels more like a bad hangover and his rib cage aches. Dennis is sick, he's having withdrawals because a stupid man child decided girls are holy even though Dennis is more than any god Mac makes up. Dennis is the goddamn ocean and Mac had the audacity to swim in his water, but fuck if Dennis couldn’t drown Mac in a second. He can imagine Mac choking as water fills his lungs whilst he floats deeper into Dennis' territory. Dennis will kill anyone who tries to get him to admit anything.
Dennis can breathe at the idea that Mac no longer can. He's cold and lifeless and tears are crusty on his cheeks, but goddamn he's a man and crying is useless. Dennis stops himself from punching the mirror at the sight of his greasy skin and waning hair, there's enough blood in his mouth from where he chewed his lip apart. The blood tastes good and warm and disgustingly right, because Dennis is a beautiful wreck, stained in pain and ignorance and God-fucking-dammit if he doesn't love himself he doesn't know what love is.
-
It's so loud all the time at the bar. It's a ringing in Dennis' ears with nondescript yelling and Dennis is yelling too, only because he can and he enjoys the power it brings. No one listens to his voice as much as they listen to their own, and Dennis can relate but it doesn't mean he likes it. His opinion should be the one that matters, even if he is only the looks of the gang. Mac was supposed to be the brains, but that's ridiculous. Mac doesn’t know what’s right for himself let alone the rest of the gang.
Dennis drinks his beer, its tastes like water to him now and he doesn't know what drunk is. He wishes he was still seventeen and able to drown his sorrows with the drink in his hand. He's turning forty soon and is still hanging out with the same losers. Some things never seem to change. Everyone is stubborn and Dennis is a criminal to it all too. Teenage Dennis would be disappointed. He hates that he managed to fail himself like this.
The yelling has stopped, a solution in sight, Dennis reconfigures his station to the real world. He’s like a radio, able to tune in and out of different stations. Charlie has disappeared to the basement and Dennis assumed he was going to kill rats so Dennis got back to work, drinking beer. Dee is talking to Mac and Frank looks confused because he's old and senile and how is he still part of their gang, Dennis doesn’t know, it's just weird.
Charlie comes back up with a box, everyone crowds around that box, and Dennis joins because he can't be out the loop. He doesn't know what's happening. He pretends to care anyway, that’s what people do. Pushing his way between Dee and Frank, and receiving annoyed grunts, Dennis peers into the box to see squirming pink vermin, covered in a fine layer of fluffy gray fur, that Dee is going soft over, because despite everything, she still has a bit of a motherly instinct. Not enough that she shouldn't only stick to cats however.
"What the fuck are these things doing in my bar," Dennis says, nose turned up as he watches the creatures the length of his middle finger blindly stumble in the cardboard prison. Do people really find hairless beasts like these, or even human babies adorable. They looked like aliens, all of them; they don't belong near his sight. Who knows what diseases they carry.
Charlie put the box in the bar Dennis had just cleaned, does he have no foresight, and Dennis chooses not to comment on it. "Ferrets scare rats, but I guess I assumed it had died, cause ya know, all the rats were coming back. So I put another ferret in, to scare the rats do my job for me all that, I guess the other one wasn't dead after all though," Charlie shrugged, “Surprised the rats didn't kill the little baby ferrets, easy prey 'n' all."
Dennis can imagine it, the blood of these helpless animals spilling onto the walls, their final squeal for help. The rats having more power than he did. Dennis didn't even have the illusion of power whilst rats that were a thousand ranks under him were able to kill like it was nothing. Moral conscience was ruining Dennis and if he didn't have that final slither of it he'd throw the box on the floor and crush the skulls of these animals and then force the gang to get on their knees and clean the blood up themselves. Dennis stands and watches.
"What are we gonna do with them?" Dee asks, and she wants to love them, believe they're adorable because that's what people do, but unlike Charlie, who has a tiny thing in each hand, Dee hasn't touched them. Either she's as repulsed by them as Dennis, or she's scared she'll accidentally crush one in her hand without even thinking about it. Dennis can feel his pulse picking up at how easy it is to take away a life.
Mac is stood close to Dennis because that is what he does, and Dennis slings an arm around Mac's shoulders because that what he does. Dennis will never forget the time Mac bent him over the bar and fucked him right there. Dennis can remember Mac avoiding the Paddy’s for almost a month before Dennis dragged him in and everything went back to normal. Dennis hates Mac. Dennis can feel his heartbeat from where his hand is loosely brushing his chest. Mac is nothing to him. Mac pulls Dennis closer, an arm around his waist holding him strong, hidden to the others by the wooden bar. Dennis loves this Mac.
Does Dennis know what happened to the baby ferrets after that day? Well, why the fuck would he care when all that really mattered was the way Mac bundled Dennis into the office and forced Dennis on his knees. Dennis always had power over Mac. Dennis changed everything Mac believed he was and he could've left Mac desperate for his tongue around his cock, begging for the feeling Dennis may never give. But Dennis is limp and he lets Mac fuck his throat and the tears burn his eyes and this is what his life has become. Dennis can feel completely alone even with a dick in his mouth.
Dennis hates that his skin is red and creased and he isn't perfect anymore. He hates that he's getting old and is still living with his high school friend. He went and did a psychology minor and now he's cleaning a bar. He's ashamed of himself. He should be married or famous or anything else, but instead it's movie night and his life is a broken record, cursed to repeat forever with no way of making it stop.
Mac moves closer to Dennis as he talks about body mass, a rant Dennis has heard too many times, he could recite it by heart. Dennis notices their thighs together and the fact Mac knows what he wants, but pretends he doesn't, and it's funny how backwards Mac's thinking it. No one's laughing. Mac is laughing. Mac’s actions don’t matter.
Dennis is wearing makeup. Just foundation and mascara, nothing special. He has it on most days. But it makes him look more feminine though and that's the only reason he uses it, because he doesn't actually need it. Mac is drawn to the femininity and Dennis can use this to his advantage. Everything he does is a manipulation and no one can ever catch onto him. Elusive and secretive, Dennis should've become a spy.
Dennis turns his head and nibbles Mac's neck, lips and teeth and a hot tongue and he knows the sensation is too much, Mac can't think straight and he's Dennis' just like that. Mac smells of two different colognes and he’s trying to impress Dennis, but Dennis can still smell sweat and Mac can never cover up every part of himself. Not to Dennis. The room is dark and Dennis twists his body to straddle Mac and with his big doe eyes Mac could pretend he's a girl for a bit. Dennis would be the best girl Mac could ever score; Dennis is already Mac's best lay without being a girl. Why else would Mac forget about the ever impending God for an hour in Dennis' bed.
Mac still goes to church and Dennis asked why. We're all going to rot in hell, Satan has Mac's name on his lips in the same way Dennis does when Mac rocks his hips, and surely Mac must love Satan if he loves what Dennis can do to him.
"All sins are forgive able as long as you ask for it," Mac replied, as if it was that easy, but if you get out of prison just to kill someone again, you're still going to prison, “As long as I know I've done something wrong, it can be made right again." Dennis loves that he has more control over Mac than God, that he can get Mac to go against everything he stands for, just for Dennis' body. Dennis is worth more than fucking God to Mac. Dennis loves what he's done to him.
Dennis had given Mac a blowjob straight after he'd finished his speech about God, just in an effort to prove him wrong further. Now Mac was kissing along Dennis' thighs and Dennis whines and pulls Mac's hair because Mac is a tease and bruises along the inside of his thighs aren't attractive. Dennis knows Mac likes to be manhandled, and with a sharp tug to his greasy hair he brings Mac's lips to his dick, and Mac mutters something about impatience, but they don't speak during sex. They pretend neither of them are there and this isn’t real life.
Mac's lips are burning, and they move down Dennis' cock slowly, tongue swirling along the tip and moving down until Dennis hits the back of his throat. A hand moves along the part Mac's lips can't reach and Dennis watches him, so obedient, so beautiful. Dennis is a god and Mac kneels subservient to him, with the taste of Dennis overwhelming him, he is lying prostrate like he's in a prayer for Dennis himself. Dennis can't keep biting back his moans, and his stomach twitches as he calls out Mac's name and just as the Devil himself would be doing so, and Mac swallows everything down, and Dennis' head is swirling as Mac comes up to kiss him slow and soft and affectionately, and Dennis would be scared if this was a girl, but it's Mac and these emotions are overrode by fear and prayers and sometimes Dennis is glad things are this way. No strings and no discussions, just guilty sex.
-
Mac walks out of his room with a box, arms straining and eyes red and he's either high or been crying and Dennis doesn't care either way. He is curious though, and he'll humour Mac anyway, “What’s in the box babe?" Dennis has started with the pet names just to remind Mac he's never getting away from this part of himself, the part that Dennis has control of. The only part of Mac that Dennis cares about. Mac means nothing to Dennis apart from a good fuck. Dennis couldn’t care about love or Mac’s emotional wellbeing. Dennis doesn’t have enough range in his emotional capacity to care about his own wellbeing.
Mac looks down at the box and back at Dennis, he looks confused. Definitely high. Dennis is offended he didn't get offered a hit. "It's everything I believe in," Mac murmurs, he's not looking at Dennis, so he stands up, leans on the door in front of Mac. No escape. Mac is trapped like the rats in the basement, and Dennis is Charlie with that baseball bat, ready to swing. "You've changed me; I don't know who I am anymore." He's angry. Dennis likes angry Mac. It's the only emotion Dennis can emphasise with.
"Well I like who you're becoming," Dennis mentions, smiling, Dennis is charming and he can make Mac believe who he is becoming is who he's supposed to be. Because everyone knows Mac is gay except himself, Dennis is doing him a favour by speeding up the process. Mac should appreciate everything Dennis has done for him.
Mac put the box down and Dennis sees it's full of all those Christian objects Mac kept around his room. It would seem the Devil had won, and Mac was in for a Hell of a ride now that Heaven wasn't his only aim in life. Mac is bristling and Dennis is smiling. This is how it’s supposed to be. "Not everything I do is to please you!" He's yelling without any motivation as to why, and Dennis knows he's lying. He does anything he can to make Dennis happy. Dennis licks his lips and shrugs his shoulders; Mac knows he doesn't believe him. Dennis knows Mac loves him.
"Shut up, you're so smug and annoying, and just get out of my way so I can get rid of everything I know," Mac growls, Dennis’ expression alone enough to rile Mac over the edge, and his breath is hot in Dennis' face, his hands tucked into fists, and the only thing Dennis moves is his mouth, but Mac doesn't want to listen to him anymore, knocking a hard fist into Dennis' jaw, hissing at the pain in his hand on impact. Dennis loves the adrenaline.
"That all you got baby?" Dennis chuckles, clutching his jaw as if he cares about the pain. He's provoking Mac, Mac is tough and strong and can beat Dennis to a pulp. Dennis' back hits the door and Mac isn't holding back anymore. He's yelling insincere insults and Dennis can feel his face being destroyed and he doesn't even care.
Blood runs from Dennis' nose, warm on his skin and it's trailing onto his lips, but this isn't the first time Mac has abused Dennis in this way. Dennis knows what this type of power does for Mac's ego, his self-esteem. It's the belief of control, but Dennis is the one letting this happen to him. He could fight back, he could kill Mac. But he's letting Mac have the control because that's what he needs to stay with Dennis, doing the things he does. If he feels himself slipping too far he'll leave. That's what was about to happen, he'll pretend to hate God and then sit in the church and pray for days and not touch Dennis for even longer. Dennis can't go back to square one. The process is too long and as long as Mac feels he has some say in the way his life goes, he will keep everything how it should be.
Mac keeps fighting even though his knuckles are bleeding and Dennis feels blood enter his mouth, metallic and hot and he feels tired, dizzy. Maybe he’ll pass out and Mac will kick him to the ground, break a couple of his ribs. He’ll feel bad enough to give Dennis anything he asks for. Dennis is okay with this harsh cycle of abusive codependency if it leads to him having what he needs. He doesn’t care about his own emotions; he doesn’t feel enough for those to matter. The physical hurt he feels as Mac clamps a hand around his throat is the most he’s felt in too long.
Dennis lifts his eyes up to meet Mac’s, finally to remind Mac that this is a person, not a ragdoll he’s hurting. His best friend is bleeding under his fists, Guilt is the easiest emotion to manipulate from someone, and Dennis won’t hold back. He can’t breathe under Mac’s fingers and he loves it. He’s the one drowning now, and it feels right. And Mac kisses him even though he can’t breathe and Dennis is drowning in Mac’s entire presence, as if this will be the last thing he ever remembers. The heat of Mac’s body and the burning sensation as he bites his torn lip, Mac’s lapping at the blood inside his mouth like a starving animal and Dennis loves it.
Suddenly Dennis can breathe and he’s gasping for air, but he’s denied oxygen as Mac pushes his tongue between Dennis’ lips, and he’s sticking a knee between Dennis’ legs and Dennis grinds on him hard and fast. Every part of Dennis hurts and he’s never felt more alive. Mac could’ve killed him and Dennis wouldn’t have felt more awake at any other point in his life. He tried to replicate these feelings with sex, but nothing beats when you’re nearly dead. That’s the time when you can laugh in the face of God as you descend to where you belong. Who the fuck cares what sins are you produce in your life, as long as you’re having a good time it shouldn’t matter. God is dead and Dennis took his place.
And Mac is having a good time right there, with Dennis’ blood infecting his mouth and poisoning his morals, he’s got a hand down his own trousers, but he’s giving Dennis no relief. Dennis just uses Mac’s thigh to get all the friction he can gripping his shoulders for leverage, whimpering in Mac’s mouth, and Mac is watching him for the first time ever. He’s lost all sense of shame. Dennis can finally have fun with him.
Mac comes first, throwing his head back and Dennis licks across his Adam’s apple, leaving a trail of saliva tinged red, and Mac always comes first because Dennis has control, even in these fragile moments. But the sight of Mac so shamelessly and carelessly becoming Dennis’ pushes him over the edge, his grip tightening on Mac’s shoulders so hard that bruises will be left, and Mac is still disjointed moans and sloppy kisses to Dennis’ mouth and neck as they slide to the floor.
They lean against each other like two tree branches, both reveling in the fragile revolution that maybe they will work out. It’ll never be love, because Dennis is incapable of feeling it unless it’s for himself, but it doesn’t have to have emotions. Dennis can convince Mac to stop feeling all these useless things too.
But Mac is incapable of that, and he breaks the silence that makes this all just sex and nothing else, but Dennis is still bleeding and his ears are ringing to everything other than Mac’s voice, “I used to believe I loved you,” he chuckles ad so does Dennis, because he remembers when they thought they were going to die and Mac told him so. They never spoke about it again, but Dennis remembered, because he knew with that information, he could begin the first steps in his manipulation that lead to where they are right now. But no one could actually love Dennis. It’s impossible and Dennis knows that. So instead he chooses to love himself enough for two people.
“I don’t love you though, I fucking hate you,” Mac continues, hes holding his own bleeding hands and ignoring the pain Dennis is in, because he can be just as selfish as Dennis. Or he’s avoiding the guilt and is delicately trying to act like he doesn’t care for once. “Actually, I love to hate you, cause you’re the goddamn Devil Den,” Mac’s laughing and that’s when Dennis passes out, covered in blood and bruises and cum. It’s all he’s ever wanted.