A ***ing Anguish of a Cold Love

Title: A Murdering Anguish of a Cold Love

A MaskyxJeffxBen Yaoi Fanfic

(Creepypasta/Marble Hornets/Slenderman Mythos)

Chapter One - Devoted and Drunk

Language: English

Rating: M

By: Aoharu

A/N: Yaoi. BDSM. Creepypasta Yaoi. Headcanons. Don't like those? Don't read, don't comment, don't review.

Warnings: Yaoi (Male on male), cussing, dark themes (slightly), drunkenness

*
It would not stop. The damn ringing. The ringing coming from the phone. Masky used to like calling people up on the phone, chatting idly, but that was no longer the case. That thing was now a source of anguish and annoy-ment. Stupid asshole. What did 'no' mean to him, anyway?

Masky didn't think that it wouldn't that bad. Well, that was a blessing. Or it would be. Only if it would actually happen. What a dream. Maybe the underestimate of the situation was Jeff's desperate need for human contact and interaction. But, even then still, Masky would have never thought that it would turn out like this. That HE would turn out like this. Masky felt like thinking about this situation too much would render him motionless and thoughtless. He didn't want to have to take any more pills than he needed to.

CRACK! A break-in? Masky's body tensed, as he prepared for battle. Are you f*cking kidding me? Wrong house, motherf*cker. No. Not a break-in. Okay. Yes. A window has been punched through; it breaking into a multiple of fractured pieces. Masky breathed out a heavy sigh. It was him. He didn't even have to look. He knew it was him. There was no doubt, none what so ever. Did he even know what 'no' was?

He was here. He would claim what was his. His plan was almost complete. He would have victory. Jeff let out a slight short high-pitched giggle. His drunken stupor only added to his distinct facial features. Without eyelids, his dilated pupils stood out even more, and therefore his eyes bulged out. It wasn't as bad as everyone thought.

Jeff couldn't help but smile, even more the usual. Well, with a Glasgow smile and all. He was half way in, with the window busted. His hand hurt like hell, but what was means to a end?

Steady footsteps were approaching the front room, towards the broken window, with slight vigor and determination. With a small sigh, he initiated the conversation.

"Well... Hello, Jeff..." He spoke with a clear, smooth, and calm voice.

Jeff rolled his eyes. God, that was Masky. Mr. Efficient. One of his peeves, not being able to relax. Ever since... the accident... the tragedy, would be better word for it, Jeff decided, or maybe something deep in the heated core of his soul decided for him, that fun and being happy was the best thing ever. However, something in the back of his subconsciousness was in a disagreement with him. Too bad he couldn't fight himself and win. The last amount of reasoning he had left after the tragedy, said that he would not live another day to see his gorgeous, beautiful face again if he did that.

Another CRACK! was followed by some small, light plinks coming from the small fractures of glass window pane as they fell onto the wooden floor inside.

"Didn't I tell you to stop coming around?" Masky inquired.

"What?" A pause. "I can't come to see my friend?" His voice, thick with disbelief.

As the words flowed out of Jeff's mouth, the ledge of the window he busted with his left fist became his best friend for the moment. Maybe he shouldn't have drunk that 5th of vodka. On Jeff's "bad' days, his appetite was extremely low. Whatever he had in his stomach, was now out onto the ground, soaking into the dirt and the smell started to raise up and Jeff's virtually non-existent nose.

Mainly because of the putrid smell of the freshly made vomit, Masky winced under his achromatic mask. Vomit was not his forte. The smell did really made it generally worse. It was hard to see Jeff in such a state.

The mask was almost a trademark. The mask was nothing more than plastic, but it had his his emotions and it was a carefully crafted facade. It made him like an enigma. The one he always wore when near Slenderman or when conducting business. But, sometimes he did take it off. Jeff liked seeing his face, especially when Masky gave him a blowjob.

Masky calmly started to stride over to the broken window. The weather had started to be turn sour around five this afternoon. It was now 47 minutes till eight in the evening. It had been raining since six. The rain made its announcement with loud thundering and handful of lights blazing and racing each other many times thought the hour, continuing each hour after the first, after the beginning grumbling that had erupted from the sky above finished, before the heavy rain came down like angels from the cloudy ceiling, where humans believed that celestial beings lived. Even thought, in the forests, one lived among them.

Masky sighed. How many was this now? Four? Five, now? He supposed that these sighs would continue to rack up. The cold wind blew in from the gaping hole of the broken window, slightly stained with blood at the end of its newly made teeth, and once it arrived, it decided to play slightly with the edges of Masky's thick, dark brown hair.

Jeff, mainly because of the heavy rain constantly pouring down like missiles and some wildly running around before getting drunk Jeff had the best idea of doing, and therefore afterwards came here, was soaking wet. Maybe Masky should help him in; they were friends after all, it was true.

It was a struggle. It always was. Jeff wasn't particularly muscular or fat. Quite lanky. But, he did tend to be difficult in most situations. Especially when he was drunk.

Jeff laid on the dark wood colored sofa, breathing gently. Because of his self-inflicted Glasgow smile, sounded quite like he was wheezing, even though his respiratory condition was normal. Ever since the tragedy at 13, Jeff's skin complexion had become somewhat of a strange occurrence. His visage had become ashen white after a bleach-vodka flash cocktail was a lit on him. His extremities, in turn had also morphed from normal Caucasian skin tone to more of a hospital, sterile white. The skin underneath the hoodie he usually wore, were covered with 2nd degree burns and was a mix between the white tone and the normal Caucasian tone. But, as the 2nd degree burns got closer to his chest, they because less and less. His skin had rough, but slightly smooth quality to it.

Masky had decided to sit beside his Jeff's head and wait out Jeff's blackout. Without eyelids, most people found it hard to figure out when Jeff was sleeping, when he didn't wear his sleeping mask. However, he did drool less than normal; the Glasgow smile was the main cause of that. Masky, after a few months of living and (dating, nonetheless (if you want to call it that)) in close proximity, had perfected the art of figuring out Jeff's little quirks and moods.

A single strand of burnt charcoal colored hair fell like a stone into water, from behind Jeff's right ear and out of the corner of his eye, Masky noticed it with precision. As a caring, friendship gesture, Masky tucked the isolated strand back into its original place. After the tragedy, Jeff's skin became leathery but sensitive. That fact made soap a enemy. Therefore, his hair stayed mainly unwashed. Masky quickly wiped his hand on his pants leg.

A quick trip from the sofa in the front room, to the bathroom down the hall secured a damp rag and gingerly was laid on Jeff's eyes.

Jeff started to drool. Was Masky going to have to take care of Jeff now? He didn't mind, much. Masky took a bit of his sleeve and carefully, because Jeff was a light sleeper except when he was drunk, but he was most likely about to wake up, wipe the drool off his fat bottom lip that was always contrasting his pale face, because of its deep rose red color.

Masky remembered their first time, in what most of human society considered intimate. Masky with his bourbon and Jeff with his preferred vodka (his special favorite was Red bull and vodka). It started innocently enough, as it could be. They just wanted to get drunk because of events in their lives had been getting kind of heavy and stressful. First drunk silence, then came giggling, then their hands and fingers jabbing and petting each other variously. Masky smiled, as more of those thoughts came and filled his head. Too bad no one could see it, because of his mask. The dilated gray eyes of Jeff came to life. Too bad, he couldn't see anything. This freaked out the colorless killer much for a moment.

Jeff raised up in a flash, his forehead covered in a cold sweat. Masky lightly tried to give some condolence by resting his right hand on Jeff's left shoulder. A twitch rang through out Jeff's tense body. Jeff turned around quickly, eyes were glaring at their target.

Slowly, steady extending his yellow jacketed arm, poking Jeff's non-nose at the end of its journey, followed a "Boop!". Jeff, with a facial expression of annoyance and confusion, backed away slightly.

"Jeff..." Masky started. Here comes the hard part.

Jeff's tense nerves settles down when he realized that Masky wasn't a threat, at least right now.

"...But..." Jeff commented softly. Pools were marching up to the front of his eyes.

"Jeff... I told you once..." Masky spoke slowly and carefully, like setting fine china down a dinner with the president.

Jeff had the face of a grimacing clown. Masky started rubbing his temples with fingers, bunched together into a exact point.

Jeff couldn't help, but be sad. Masky was his lover (or maybe f*ckbuddy would be a better term, considering their relationship). Anger was also cohabiting alongside his sadness. Being insane, his brain had a hard time comprehending these emotions and why people aroused them in him. He knew anger very well. It mainly stemmed from rejection. Which was exactly what Masky was doing right now. Rejecting him. Jeff started gritting his teeth in frustration, which was a bad habit of his. Jeff would have killed Masky by now and forget this whole terrible situation with some alcohol, except for the fact that Jeff greatly enjoyed the sex. And, Masky, being in his mid 20's while Jeff, in his late teens, had more muscle mass in general. Jeff would pull up a good fight, but Masky was a better fighter. Masky, with his controlled, precise movements and agility. Jeff, with wild strikes coming at you at all directions and angles, like a mad painter and full of determination.

He also knew melancholy very well. It was a treacherous fiend, a constant cruel reminder, a mistaken friend, a lonely attempt at some awkward reconciliation. It came at night, the vividness of it all, his words slurred with alcohol's coaxing, the hallucinations made him raving loudly and agitatedly through out the night. It also came when he was rejected, pain building up in his chest, tighter and tighter like a corset being pulled, his body like a rock started toe get heavy wile his head becoming lighter like a cloud. It's this feeling, this emotion that made him a bursting balloon; his urge becoming an identity of its own. It often took a lot of self control that usually followed by reckless activity with gracious amounts of alcohol for the next few days afterwards.

Masky looked at Jeff's cute little face, more of a glance, really. Masky huffed and decided that it was safe. With one swift moment, Masky's mask was off and his face finally free after so long. Masky, or otherwise known as Tim, took off his mask off because he knew how much Jeff loved to see it. Especially, during sex or their make-out sessions. It was mainly fascination. Jeff zoned back into the world of reality. As he rushed over a very minimal walking distance, Jeff had realized what Tim (Masky) had done.

"A face..." Jeff squeaked off, as he fiercely grabbed Tim's face.

"No, no, be good..." Masky said slowly, with a poke on Jeff's nose.

"Please, just one more time..." Jeff's eyes bulged out more than usual, boring down into Tim's soul. Gee, Jeff you sure you wanna do that? Don't scare him off.

"I'll be good." A burst of laughter. "No, kidding, just kidding. I won't." Masky (Tim) grabbed him by his hoodie collar.

"You know the rules."

Jeff made (tried of) a grumpy face in response. He fidgeted around as he thought of what to say. Masky cupped Jeff's sweet face. Jeff had loss quite a bit of baby fat. He was turning into a lovely handsome young psychopath.

"Fine. One more time..." Masky said in a bit of a huff. And, with that, Jeff's spirit lifted up to the sky, even with drunkenness. But, how long would this time last?

*End of chapter one*