Sociopath
Stomach Acid
Patrick sighed as he slipped down, his feet brushing the dirty concrete of the road. Hanging off the curb on the side of a busy street wasn’t exactly the brightest thing Patrick could have done, though he didn’t care anymore. Nothing mattered.
His life was whimsical and blessed for a while; he’d walked hand in hand with the man he’d loved more than anything, though it seemed that man didn’t care for him at all.
William on the other hand was cheerful, single again and drinking with his newfound friends. He didn’t care what he’d done to Patrick, au contraire! He loved the feeling of crushing someone’s heart under his heel. He was a true blue-blooded heart breaker, the truest royalty of his kind.
Now a days, a month after they’d split, Will had a different guy or doll on his arm every night. He’d purposely go to the clubs Patrick’s friends would drag him to, sporting a sexy young fiend as his date. He knew what he was doing, he always had. Why not have a little fun while he still had the time? He’d find a new victim soon enough; god knows the city was full of men dying to be Will’s sugar daddy. He was tall and good looking and he seemed impossibly polite and selfless.
Wrong.
Patrick had been good to him, always. He’d given up his hobbies and many of his friends because Will didn’t approve. He paid all the bills to the apartment they both shared, and even bought Will the shiny new convertible he still sported like a trophy.
William was just a gold digger. He knew Patrick could afford to buy the world, so why wouldn’t he reap the benefits? He saw no reason not to, and Patrick wasn’t the first or the last or the best or the worst, he was just an open bank account.
They two had always seemed mismatched. Patrick was small, standing at a minuscule 5’4’’, with Will towering over him at 6’2’’. While Will was barely anything but skin and bones, Patrick had some meat on his bones; he was pudgy, maybe, but not fat. The differences seemed never ending, but everyone always said that opposites attracted.
Back in the beginning of the two year relationship they’d shared, everything seemed normal. Patrick would walk into the too small but still nice apartment ever night, finding Will sleeping on the couch with an open packet of cookies or bag of chips on his lap, their small Papillion nibbling at whatever he could reach. Every time Patrick would just smile knowingly and shake his head, and help his darling to bed.
They very rarely saw each other during the week, since Patrick’s work day started at 3pm and ended at midnight, while Will tended to roll out of bed and clumsily stumble to the couch around 2 or so, when Patrick was just about to leave. During the weekends, though, Patrick would often treat William to nice dinners or go see a movie. Small things that he thought meant the world to his darling boyfriend William.
On the sexual side, their love life was always active, but never quite fair. Will being much more dominant, he tended to be the pitcher, so to speak, and often times left Patrick’s hand to do the work once he had finished. Patrick brushed it off though, it wasn’t fair, but he always told himself that he could understand just how tired Will was.
About a year and a half in, Will started to seem bored with the relationship, though, and that’s when Patrick really started to invest in the boy, trying to buy his love back. He was frantic, and found himself crying to his mother, begging her for advice when all she could do was shake her head and tell him there was no advice in the world that could turn back time. She’d always known Will wasn’t the one for Patrick. A mother’s intuition almost never failed, and from day one she’d begged her son to reconsider.
Patrick was relentless. He wanted nothing more than to make things work. He let had bought William a ring. A simple white gold band with both of their names engraved into it. Patrick had taken the day off of work and planned to come home early that night with the surprise. He was going to ask Will to be his forever.
It seemed like it was the worst mistake of his life, because when he walked in, Will was nowhere to be found…until he reached the bedroom. Patrick then found him on the bed; face down, ass up with an unfamiliar male fucking him relentlessly. Patrick stared for a minute, silently. The pair continued, not noticing the presence that now joined them in the room.
Pat could see why Will had submitted to this man. He was tall and thin like this, his ribs lightly defined under toned abdominals. He had short dark hair and tattoos all over his arms and back and chest. Patrick could feel the disgust and anger rising in his throat, or maybe that was just the vomit.
The bile soon splattered onto the floor and the moaning pair finally realized that they were caught. It seemed that William couldn’t keep his skeletons in the closet, and the grim reaper was coming to take away the once seemingly vivacious relationship that had now died between them.
Patrick thought the worst part of it all was that the strange man had the audacity to finish himself off even as he knew that he should’ve had his hands up. Patrick watched the man’s hands grip onto Will’s sides, white marks imprinted from tense fingertips as he climaxed, teeth holding onto his lip for dear life. He sighed in content and in all honesty Patrick didn’t remember much after that. He knew he’d vomited again, the pure shock leaving him immobile and sick as he fell into the tender darkness.
When he woke up he managed to crawl through the apartment, now empty with the door wide open. The television was gone, and he was sure Will had taken it, that gold-digging son of a bitch. There was no note, no closure, just emptiness.
Patrick moved out the next week. He lived with his mom now, living out of the old room he’d inhabited throughout his childhood. He left some nights, to go out with friends, but it seemed like Will was always there so he slowly had given up on the vice of drinking away his sorrows with friends.
It seemed he was going to be stuck in this monotonous high wire walk forever…and he just hoped forever would hurry up and arrive.
His life was whimsical and blessed for a while; he’d walked hand in hand with the man he’d loved more than anything, though it seemed that man didn’t care for him at all.
William on the other hand was cheerful, single again and drinking with his newfound friends. He didn’t care what he’d done to Patrick, au contraire! He loved the feeling of crushing someone’s heart under his heel. He was a true blue-blooded heart breaker, the truest royalty of his kind.
Now a days, a month after they’d split, Will had a different guy or doll on his arm every night. He’d purposely go to the clubs Patrick’s friends would drag him to, sporting a sexy young fiend as his date. He knew what he was doing, he always had. Why not have a little fun while he still had the time? He’d find a new victim soon enough; god knows the city was full of men dying to be Will’s sugar daddy. He was tall and good looking and he seemed impossibly polite and selfless.
Wrong.
Patrick had been good to him, always. He’d given up his hobbies and many of his friends because Will didn’t approve. He paid all the bills to the apartment they both shared, and even bought Will the shiny new convertible he still sported like a trophy.
William was just a gold digger. He knew Patrick could afford to buy the world, so why wouldn’t he reap the benefits? He saw no reason not to, and Patrick wasn’t the first or the last or the best or the worst, he was just an open bank account.
They two had always seemed mismatched. Patrick was small, standing at a minuscule 5’4’’, with Will towering over him at 6’2’’. While Will was barely anything but skin and bones, Patrick had some meat on his bones; he was pudgy, maybe, but not fat. The differences seemed never ending, but everyone always said that opposites attracted.
Back in the beginning of the two year relationship they’d shared, everything seemed normal. Patrick would walk into the too small but still nice apartment ever night, finding Will sleeping on the couch with an open packet of cookies or bag of chips on his lap, their small Papillion nibbling at whatever he could reach. Every time Patrick would just smile knowingly and shake his head, and help his darling to bed.
They very rarely saw each other during the week, since Patrick’s work day started at 3pm and ended at midnight, while Will tended to roll out of bed and clumsily stumble to the couch around 2 or so, when Patrick was just about to leave. During the weekends, though, Patrick would often treat William to nice dinners or go see a movie. Small things that he thought meant the world to his darling boyfriend William.
On the sexual side, their love life was always active, but never quite fair. Will being much more dominant, he tended to be the pitcher, so to speak, and often times left Patrick’s hand to do the work once he had finished. Patrick brushed it off though, it wasn’t fair, but he always told himself that he could understand just how tired Will was.
About a year and a half in, Will started to seem bored with the relationship, though, and that’s when Patrick really started to invest in the boy, trying to buy his love back. He was frantic, and found himself crying to his mother, begging her for advice when all she could do was shake her head and tell him there was no advice in the world that could turn back time. She’d always known Will wasn’t the one for Patrick. A mother’s intuition almost never failed, and from day one she’d begged her son to reconsider.
Patrick was relentless. He wanted nothing more than to make things work. He let had bought William a ring. A simple white gold band with both of their names engraved into it. Patrick had taken the day off of work and planned to come home early that night with the surprise. He was going to ask Will to be his forever.
It seemed like it was the worst mistake of his life, because when he walked in, Will was nowhere to be found…until he reached the bedroom. Patrick then found him on the bed; face down, ass up with an unfamiliar male fucking him relentlessly. Patrick stared for a minute, silently. The pair continued, not noticing the presence that now joined them in the room.
Pat could see why Will had submitted to this man. He was tall and thin like this, his ribs lightly defined under toned abdominals. He had short dark hair and tattoos all over his arms and back and chest. Patrick could feel the disgust and anger rising in his throat, or maybe that was just the vomit.
The bile soon splattered onto the floor and the moaning pair finally realized that they were caught. It seemed that William couldn’t keep his skeletons in the closet, and the grim reaper was coming to take away the once seemingly vivacious relationship that had now died between them.
Patrick thought the worst part of it all was that the strange man had the audacity to finish himself off even as he knew that he should’ve had his hands up. Patrick watched the man’s hands grip onto Will’s sides, white marks imprinted from tense fingertips as he climaxed, teeth holding onto his lip for dear life. He sighed in content and in all honesty Patrick didn’t remember much after that. He knew he’d vomited again, the pure shock leaving him immobile and sick as he fell into the tender darkness.
When he woke up he managed to crawl through the apartment, now empty with the door wide open. The television was gone, and he was sure Will had taken it, that gold-digging son of a bitch. There was no note, no closure, just emptiness.
Patrick moved out the next week. He lived with his mom now, living out of the old room he’d inhabited throughout his childhood. He left some nights, to go out with friends, but it seemed like Will was always there so he slowly had given up on the vice of drinking away his sorrows with friends.
It seemed he was going to be stuck in this monotonous high wire walk forever…and he just hoped forever would hurry up and arrive.