ENDGAME - Part Two: Keller
by Dani

Look at his little fingers go. Tappin' away at you. Calling you out. You know he's aiming for an eyefuck but it comes off adorable. He's your own little beaten up three-legged puppy.

He's so sweet. You had to hand it to him. The sweetest. The dull blue of his eyes with their long lashes fluttering on your skin when you managed to steal some hack-free time. Sweet like the light hairs on his body.

He was above the stink of this place. He didn't smell like a guy that's for fucking sure.

Everything about him was different. His hands too, which were soft and smooth. His face, the way you like it best, also smooth.

He was getting too skinny though. He never eats anymore.

*Hey, didn't think that I noticed, huh? Yeah, well...I've been watching you like I always do.*

He had become wiry and lean. Scrawny, even. He felt so small in your arms the last time. Before the world turned to shit.

But fuck that. Don't even think about it.

Look at him stare at you, his look giving up nothing. He's gotta be scared.


Or maybe he just wants you. Of course he does. Sick fuck.

Christ, you're getting hard. Better move, don't wanna give him that yet.

*Love the way you look at me, makes me go wild.*

Your eyes widen coyly and you smile at him.

The many faces of Tobias Beecher, you know them all. At least, you think you do.

Happy, he made you feel happy like a gold star sticker from the one teacher who didn't think you were a freak.

(You fucked her years later as a thank you, don't think she recognized you. But that's another story.)

The dead look, so far away you'd kill someone to bring him back.

Or the vengeful and plotting look, that one was the worst. It was so cold. You just want to get in his face and make it change. Any way you can.

To the last look.

The way he looks when he's taking it. Nah...more like, the *change* in his face when he's being taken. He takes you there with him. You could get off a thousand times with just that.

With him, you know you're hitting something.

He's so open, so fucking raw. Kinda like a little kid. Sometimes you can't believe that he doesn't walk through life crying.

Sensitive. Yeah, that's the perfect word. All around sensitive. His body has all these marks to prove it. When you grab his arm, his face, his thigh, it doesn't take much to leave a mark on his skin, the red outline of where your fingers had been.

These cunts have no idea what he's got. Underneath that crazy guy act, he's a beautiful thing. Keep prying him open and that first look at the pearl was always a complete fucking dream.

It can feel good to have someone like that. Someone who needs you so much, wants you so much they would rather destroy every fucking thing in their life than move on without you. To prove that to everyone. Like Bonnie.

Someone like that could turn on you at the first sign of trouble though.

*Right, buddy?*

For someone who was supposed to be so smart, Mr. Society Lawyer was a complete dumbfuck. He listened to other people's lies about you and believed them. Didn't even think to ask you. He thinks you're capable of *anything*. He has *no* idea what you're capable of, but you're really, really dyin' to show him.

*I hate you, ya fuck.*

You tilt your face slowly at him as you think this.

Most of the time you spent with him you didn't have it in you to hear him go on and on about his fuckin' poor me guilt. Him rubbing his do-gooder, "I wanna be forgiven" bullshit in your face all the time. He's so fucking naive, he'll believe anything. Anything to make it all right. He has no real clue how their world operates, no matter what jizz he tries to pass off as his.

*Newsflash, Tinkerbell, this ain't Never-Never land or the fucking Yellow Brick Road. There ain't no peace here and all the wishes in the world won't buy you dick.*

When he was like that, with the whole atonement bit, you just wanted to make him...Shut. The Fuck. Up. So you would, in ways that worked. A smile here or a touch there. Maybe both at once. That didn't always deliver though. Sometimes, you had to dig deeper and come up with different distractions. Shit, whatever does the trick, you're up for it. You ain't stupid, far from it, though you're happy to let people believe otherwise.

*Got you quiet now, huh, pal?*

You trick yourself into thinking you can hear his breathing through the division of glass and space, sounding even and slow.

It was happening again. No doubt about it. You know that the game is still on, no matter who has the upper hand. Is he gonna bring it? The anticipation feels like a burn. Who would win this time? What's the prize gonna be?

You rub your mouth back and forth slowly across your forearm. You bite down, first gently, then with pressure. Until you break the skin.