And I just started to write this cuz I wanted to.
It's nasty so beware. And my black humor is still in it but it might be overshadowed by the nasty.
But who fucking cares, right?! I mean, isn't it what we've all been waiting for?
Am I right or am I right?
Title: Ma, Can I keep him?
Pairing: B/J, implied E/J; also possibly, inter-species pairing (Hey, we're still not sure of Mikey's parentage)
Warnings: It is afterall a cannibal fic. Nothing squicky, just allusions to things that might make people uncomfortable. The word 'eviscerate' is used quite a bit.
Super Warning: Minor Character Death this chapter. Oh yes, there will be blood...
Disclaimers: I don't own Cowlip or the boys and according to fucking King County, I shouldn't own my stupid shed. *grumble grumble*
Summary: This is crack!fic. It is a cannibal crack!fic. It is tongue-in-cheek black humor. This is the warning within the summary. Debbie is the Sweeney Todd type living in some backwater town (not too far from Pittsburgh) with her mentally disturbed son, Mikey (yes, I stuck to canon) and adopted son, Brian. Justin and Ethan are passing through.
Previous chapters can be found in my memories, here. If you have trouble accessing them there, just use the memories found on my user info page.
There were three things Justin noticed upon his awakening in the morning.
First was that he had a real bitch of a headache. He was wondering if anyone in the farmhouse had any Tylenol until he remembered that he was allergic to said pain relief medication.
Some days it just sucked being him.
The second thing he noticed was that he had never in his entire life felt so completely and utterly satiated. Whatever he had eaten the night before, and however much, had left him feeling full. It was the most satisfying feeling he had ever felt.
When he looked at Brian however, he had to revise that statement.
It was almost the most satisfying feeling he had ever felt.
Which brought him to the last thing he noticed.
His ass was sore.
Not sore as in, 'ouch, I'll have to take it easy for the rest of the day' sore but as in, 'motherfucking fleet of Greyhounds took a detour through my ass' kind of sore.
The barbecue last night had been quite the party. Of course, he thought it had been quite the party.
What little of it he could remember that is. Most of it was a blur because of the drugs Brian had given him the night before. His lover had said something about the only way to enjoy a night time get together with the folks was to get as high as possible, in the shortest time as possible and hopefully pass out before Debbie could do the dance of the nine veils.
Justin shivered as he remembered a vision along those lines but it was still a bit fuzzy.
Which was good.
But not so good when he was seriously trying to piece together the events of the night before.
Like the one where after the party, Brian had fucked him through the mattress.
Because when he looked down in confusion, wondering why the usually soft yet firm mattress was so unforgiving, it was then that Justin noticed the bed was gone and he was parked on the hardwood floor. And as he looked around the room, he noticed his voracious lover straightening his shelves and occasionally running a wet sponge over the walls.
"Hey," Brian responded in surprise as he finished with the sponge and threw it back into the bucket next to his feet. It made a strange sound when it hit the water inside and Justin watched as dirty, brown water splashed back up from within.
"Ewww, what happened?" Justin asked, a look of disgust evident on his face as he looked at the dirty water. "I mean...what exactly did we do in here last night Brian?"
Images quickly sped through Justin's brain, a virtual kaleidoscope of colorful and some disturbing pictures.
Him dancing around a huge bonfire partially naked.
Emmett rubbing some disgusting brown substance over his naked torso.
And the strangest pig he had ever seen...or tasted for that matter...being roasted over an open pit.
And just as he had conjured that particular thought up, Justin picked a piece of meat from between his teeth.
"What...um...do you...you know...remember?" Brian asked innocently.
"Well there was this...this bonfire...and...dancing? Did we dance Brian?"
"Yeah, a bit."
"Was Ted dancing with a cat...in a tutu?"
"Yeah, well, we asked Em if he could get a date for Ted and well, he brought one of his cats."
"Oh, that explains it," Justin admitted with a frown, "I think. I mean it is Ted afterall..."
"Do you remember anything else?" Brian asked quickly.
"Aside from you fucking my brains out after dinner...which I might add was simply the best meat I ever tasted," and just as he had said that, he fished another micrometer piece of meat that had lodged somewhere between his back molars.
Brian gazed upon the boy that was staring up at him from the floor. Justin's eyes were still a bit glazed from the night before, which meant the effects of the potent narcotics were still prevalent.
Justin said he didn't remember anything. Or at least much.
That was good.
Because if he did, that would be bad.
It would be very, very bad.
In fact, it would be bad to the power of one zillion.
"Brian? Where's the bed?" Justin asked while scratching his head.
"We broke it," Brian smiled lazily. In truth, they actually had soaked it through.
But he couldn't tell Justin that the real reason they would now be in the market for another King-sized Sealy Posturepedic's was because he had soaked the mattress through with the blood of one of his former classmates.
It wasn't really Brian's fault that Emmett had decided to go all Quest for Fire on his body and that of his lover's by painting Justin with a mixture of said blood and mud.
Of course, it might have been his fault when he fucked Justin against the walls, smearing the mixture all over the walls and then fucking him on the bed.
The evidence of one of Justin's fellow prep school inmates was now sloshing around in a bucket sitting in the corner of the room.
And the rest of the evidence was now making its way through everyone's digestive tract, including the boy that was currently sitting on the floor looking up at Brian with glazed eyes.
Brian had to think about how he had come to this point and how it all started.
"Hey! Paganini!" Brian yelled as he walked into the barn.
"Oh joy. It's my jailer. Come to fatten me up?" Ethan taunted as he regarded Brian through the bars. "What, measure my fat content? See if I measure up to the high USDA standards?"
"I want answers." Brian's tone intimated that he would not brook any more wisecracks or flippancy on the part of the imprisoned violinist. "What happened to Justin? There's that scar...and his hand...whenever I bring any of this up, he changes the subject."
Brian could see Ethan contemplating what to do next. It was with great relief when the young man started to relate the tale.
A tale that included a bashing at a young boy's prom, a homicidal homophobe who escaped any punishment by the law, a coma, nerve damage, endless days of physical therapy, and a hand that still gave him trouble. He spoke of days where Justin would not leave the house, not wanting to confront the populace at large and nights where he found little comfort as the same fears chased him into his nightmares.
With as controlled a voice as Brian could muster, he asked, "does this walking corpse have a name?"
"Yeah. Hobbs, Chris Hobbs. His number's in the book," Ethan retorted, an equal gleam in his eye.
And so it came to be that Brian arranged for Mel and Linz to offer up some odd jobs for Justin to do around their home while he took a little side trip into Pittsburgh.
Oh yes, indeed. The fiddler was correct.
It almost made him want to let Ethan go, if it weren't for the simple fact that he would want to take Justin with him.
Hobbs was in the book.
And Brian noted with an evil smile, that he would make a wonderful birthday present for Justin the way he had been hogtied and thrown into the trunk of Vic's car. Of course, Hobbs' was not a very gracious guest as he kept kicking the inside of the trunk the whole way back to the homestead.
"So this is the piece of shit that hurt our little Sunshine?" Debbie sneered as she stared down into the face of the person who was trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey.
"Faggots! You're all faggots!" Chris screamed as he gaped in anger and fear at the people surrounding him. "And you! I don't know what you are but someone should call Ringling Brothers and see if they're missing a clown. A fat clown!!!" Chris spit at Debbie.
"I see dead people," Ted tonelessly stated as he looked down at the former football star.
"Don't start this shit again Teddy," Vic warned.
"No, I think Theodore is just calling 'em as he sees 'em," Brian smiled slyly as he hooked his thumbs into his overalls. "Now what did I do with that spit?"
Brian had decided against the conventional means of serving Hobbs up at dinner, that was, to slaughter him and cook him in small individual pieces or to be part of the ingredients in Debbie's sausage.
No, he, along with the rest of the folks, especially Debbie (afterall, she wasn't too happy regarding that whole clown joke) decided that with the injustice that Hobbs had served up to Justin called for something really special.
And a celebration.
What they needed was a good old fashioned barbecue, complete with a spit roast.
All Brian had to do was throw in some mind altering drugs Justin's way for Brian knew without a doubt, no matter how much Justin might hate Hobbs, he wouldn't be too happy with the way in which Brian avenged his lover.
"Hey Brian! The fire's perfect. Have you gotten him prepared yet or what?!?" Debbie yelled while snapping her gum. Brian could almost see her hand on her hip as she awaited his smart ass remark.
"I'm just greasing the spit. One should always come prepared," Brian smirked as he smeared the grease around the pole, chuckling to himself as he used the same lube he used to prepare Justin.
"What're you gonna do with that pole faggot?" Chris asked, a tremor in his voice, his ass upturned in the air while his knees and elbows were tied to the table.
"I may be the faggot, but you're the one that's about to take it up the ass." Brian positioned the pole at Chris' entrance and bending over whispered into Chris' ear. "Don't worry. I'll be gentle. No wait," he said as he straightened out, his brows furrowed. "No I won't."
And with one quick motion Brian drove the spit home.
After looking over his latest work, the spit having completely gutted Chris and resurfacing through his mouth. Had Brian had any reservations about possibly going over the top on this one, all he need do was imagine Justin in a tuxedo, lying on the concrete, in his own pool of blood.
It was after that, after they had set the pole to rotate over the fire and had started to eat the product of his unholy revenge, that Brian had come to a macabre conclusion.
This, this was the way people were meant to eat.
It was carnal.
It was savage.
And it was so, so perfect in all its gluttonous glory.
Eating in excess as they all had last night, adding to that the effects a good old fashioned whiskey had on one's sanity, and everyone had reverted back to their primal instincts.
With a small smile on his face, he could remember a very tripping Justin, standing just on the other side of the huge bonfire, wearing nothing but a pair of low slung cargos he had borrowed from Emmett, covered in a brown-red mixture of goo as the lad aptly called it, munching on the charred remains still attached to a femur bone. When Justin stopped his eating long enough to stare back at Brian, the young man swiped his arm across his mouth to rid himself of the excess juices, his drug-glazed eyes never leaving the man.
Brian knew that look all too well.
Justin was still hungry.
But not for the meat.
All that human meat had gone straight to that part of Justin's brain that said 'must have sex now.'
Brian knew about that part of the brain because it was saying the same thing to him at that precise moment only what it was telling him was 'hunt, claim and mine.'
The older man knew the minute his prey picked up on the predatory look in Brian's eyes because Justin tossed the bone into the fire and took off into the clearing of trees at breakneck speed.
Another added effect that this much carnal pleasure had on one's system. Justin could never have run that fast before.
Brian took off after the boy, running through trees, jumping over overgrown roots, splashing through the stream that ran along the property and coming out into a grassy clearing.
Looking around him, he spotted his young lover doubling back through the other thicket of trees. Instead of running the same way, Brian quickly darted back the way he came, knowing he would run into Justin when he circled back around.
And he did. Tackling Justin to the forest floor, he latched onto the boy and started to devour every part of him.
No piece of clean naked flesh was left unattended as Brian claimed his prize, his carnal energy thrumming through his body and calling out to him to mark the body beneath him.
Brian had taken Justin, there within the circle of trees. Naked and still needing more contact with each other, they ran back to Brian's room, once again satiating their blood-crazed lust.
Too bad Justin wouldn't remember most of it.
All that mattered to Brian though was that someone who had visited all his hatred on Justin, someone who could have tried to hurt someone like the young man currently looking at Brian as if he were God and then get away scott free, finally received his due reward.
And God! If he could possibly get any more lesbian, then he would spit and roast himself next time.
"How do you feel now twat? You still want me to get you some aspirin?" Brian asked, smiling at the younger man as he tried to get his bearings.
"Yeah," Justin beamed. "Thanks Brian. You're the best."
And sometimes Debbie called 'em as she saw 'em too.
Just then, Justin hit his chest and let out a loud, resounding belch, waving his hand in front of his face as he did so.
"Whew! Where the hell did that come from?" Justin asked in wonder.
"Must've been something you ate," Brian smirked.
Feedback is still good.
And yeah, I was pretty gross here.
I think, at least.
Oh! And for all you Orlibean people out there, I am working on the next chapter of Death Does Not become Him. It is so not as nasty as this update of my cannibal fic. *shivers*