SO I was talking to this faggot I met on DA because apparently I seem so approachable, her name's like http://ghostoffever.deviantart.com/ or some shit. She asked me to read one of her fanfictions. What the actual fucking fuck. fuck fuck fuck what the fuck. fuck me in the ass. I should of expected this from a DA tard. Patrick groaned quietly. He didn't quite like this. He never quite liked this, yet it happened again and again. He opened his mouth to complain, then snapped it shut when a devilsh pair of lips found purchase on his neck. Patrick's groans of discomfort soon melted into moans of pleasure that he couldn't quite keep from tumbling from his mouth. It was only when the sucking and kissing turned into nips and bites did Patrick think of speaking up again. He clenched and unclenched his arm muscles again, desperately wishing he could move them. "Hey... hey stop." Patrick finally found his voice in the sea of pain and pleasure. At first, the older man simply ignored his request and continued his ministrations. It was only when Patrick repeated his plea did Pete detach his lips from his neck and look at him. He raised an eyebrow, questioning Patrick's sudden request. Patrick managed to open his eyes and make somewhat solid eye contact with the man. Patrick swallowed. "Could you maybe... be gentle?" "Gentle?" Pete asked, cocking his head to the side a tiny bit and furrowing his eyebrows. He had perviously been laying on the other man's body, but he now propped himself up with hands on either side of Patrick's body. Patrick had never spoken up before, and his current request wasn't quite penetrating Pete's lust hazed mind accurately. Patrick arched his back and twisted his wrists. He knew it would do him no good, but he did it anyway. "Yes, gentle. This is fun, but..." he tugged on the restraints holding his arms firmly above his head. "It hurts." Pete once again raised an eyebrow and Patrick exhaled heavily. It wasn't as if Pete had forced him here. He let Pete do this to him over and over, no matter how many times he woke up with bruised wrists or barely climaxed from such a strong mix of pain. Pete suddenly narrowed his eyes, understanding what Patrick was asking. He sat up and quickly untied Patrick's wrists. Patrick sat up a moment later, rubbing the sore red rings that wrapped around his wrists. "I wasn't aware you were unsatisfied," is what Pete finally choked out. Patrick blinked and looked at him. They only made eye contact for a second before Patrick's eyes darted from the floor to the wall and back to his wrists. They were still so close. Their bare hips were pressed together, and their shoulders were close. Patrick finally resigned to leaning his forehead against Pete's shoulder. "I'm not unsatisfied, it's just..." Patrick struggled to find the right words. He rubbed his head against Pete's shoulder, almost wishing he had never spoken up and he was still tied to the bedpost, waves of pain washing over him as Pete abused his soft skin as he always did. "Sometimes I wish you would make love to me instead of... this." Pete looked down at the obviously conflicted man leaning against his bare shoulder. It was true, he could have been more gentle with Patrick, but he had liked the way things were. Patrick had always come to him; he had never been forced. Thing never got too rough. Pete usually made a point to stop things if blood had ever shown. He liked being rough with Patrick. After all, Patrick was his, wasn't he? And Pete knew him, didn't he? Pete closed his eyes. He suddenly remembered all the unhappy groans as Patrick had been tied, how sometimes it was harder than usual to get him to climax, and how he always arched his back when he bit him. No, Patrick never liked this, and Pete had just never seen. He scoffed, disgusted with himself as he wrapped his arms around his companion. "I'm sorry." Pete whispered into his ear. The apology was simple, and Pete honestly hoped Patrick wouldn't only see the face value. With Pete's arms wrapped around him, Patrick felt safe. Pete never hugged him when he was tied up. He wasn't used to feeling so much of Pete's skin against his own. "We don't have to do that anymore." Pete promised. Patrick smiled halfheartedly and kissed Pete on the cheek. It wasn't like Patrick didn't have feelings for the man. Sometimes his feelings were the only thing that kept him coming back. "Let's... let's make love, alright?" Pete asked, hoping the younger man wouldn't reject him altogether. Partick's cheeks dusted a beautiful shade of pink as he nodded. Pete ever so gently pushed Patrick back onto the mattress and kissed him softly. That night no blood was spilled and no wrists were tied. There were only two men drowning in the love that surrounded them, gently for once. WHY. ALL FAGGOTS DESERVE THE LETHAL INJECTION.