A/N: Yo! So here'll be my second fanfiction in the Five Nights At Freddy's fandom. The characters are Vincent from Tabberdoodle's Second Chance AU and Richard from ask-the-nightshift's FnaF AU. Both are different "interpretations" of the infamous "purple guy" from the death minigames in Five Nights At Freddy's 2. (: Hope you guys like what I've got here! Enjoy~!
Rating: M
Warnings: Contains blood, alcohol, swearing and sex. Contains rough sex and sexual situations in general. Lots of that actually. If you don't like that or are easily upset by anything mentioned previously, turn back now! This is your last warning!
Disclaimer: I do not own FnaF, Vincent, Richard, or anything affiliated with the game(s) and/or the character(s). All original interpretations belong to the previously mentioned, and FnaF/FnaF2 belongs to Scott Cawthorn. Thanks for the crazy ass game man.
Leaning against the bar top, Vincent sighed for the fourth time in a five minute period. Wiping down a glass he'd already cleaned at least a dozen times, his eyes swept over the practically empty bar, emitting a soft noise of annoyance at the lack of people. Tonight had been the slowest service the bar had seen in weeks, a small rushing near the beginning of Vince's shift the most exciting it had been. Setting the glass down near the others under the counter, he walked toward the register and poked the screen softly, waking the computer.
'12:43am' the clock in the upper corner of the screen read. Sighing for the umpteenth time that night, he ran a hand through his hair and ruffled it softly, before rubbing a hand over the scruff on his chin. He kind of liked the sound it made when he did that. Walking back toward the counter, he grabbed a rag soaked in a diluted disinfectant and began wiping the top of the bar down.
Wipe, wipe, wipe...
Walking along the bar and wiping off anything that looked remotely out of place, he made his rounds twice before deeming the top clean enough for now. Dropping the rag back into the red bucket behind the bar top, he glanced around again, trying to spot someone, anyone who might need a drink. The only customers in the bar were a young couple seated in a corner booth making out as if the world around them didn't exist, and a man sitting at one of the floor tables, sipping the same beer from almost an hour ago.
Staying was almost a waste of time, he knew that, but Vincent also knew all too well that he owed it to Scott to stay. That even if he made minimum wage without any tips, at least sitting here and being bored was more profitable than going home and watching "How It's Made". He owed Scott a lot, and most of the debt he felt he owed could probably never be repaid properly. But the least he could do was contribute to the household bills. Wandering to one of the corners of the bar, Vince began slicing lime, lemon, and orange wedges, popping each newly cut piece into their respective bins. Prep work was better than standing there and twiddling his thumbs.
He worked quickly, the motions almost as if on autopilot as his mind began wandering again. What other bills were due this month? He couldn't remember what Scott paid separately from the rent. Was it water too? Maybe it was electricity, though that was never often a very large bill if it was separate. Cutting into an orange, he pulled the halves apart and began cutting thin slices for garnish. Maybe it was the cable. It was probably the cable he'd help pay for first, considering just how much T.V. he watched. Watching T.V. sounded good right now too. Sure as shit would beat working and cutting up the fruit. Tossing another whole orange's worth of slices into the plastic container, he went in for another one, thinking about what exactly was on right now and what would be on when he got off work-
"Ahem."
Pausing mid-slice, he glanced up, eyes meeting the man's eyes who'd made the noise to get his attention in the first place. Setting his knife down, he grinned at his customer, finally glad to have someone at the fucking bar to serve.
"Sorry about that. What can I getchya?" he asked, voice practically a purr as he leaned his elbow on the counter and toward the man. The man returned with a smile of his own, eyes twinkling in a mischievous manner beneath the brim of his hat.
"Coldest beer you've got on tap," he replied, voice a rumble in his chest. Without hesitation, Vince grabbed one of the bigger steins and picked the beer on special tonight. A Belgian ale with citrus undertones and a smooth finish. With flourish, he began filling the glass, and once it was just near over-flowing, he released the lever and carefully tilted it to sit upright, placing it on the counter in front of the man.
"Special tonight, 2 dollars," he said, still grinning as the man fished a fist-full of singles out of his pocket. Placing two down onto the counter, Vincent grabbed them and tossed them into the register, glancing over his shoulder as the man began drinking his beer. It was nearly half-way gone by the time he'd turned around. "Long day?"
"Short day, for me anyway," the man replied, smirking over the top of his beer. Offering another grin, Vincent turned away, making tallies on a sheet to keep track of how many pieces of fruit he'd cut up for garnish and the cocktails. Glancing down the bar where the man was sitting, Vincent realized now that he was in a uniform of some kind. It reminded him slightly of...maybe when he was at Fazbear's.
The thought brought a sour taste rising in the back of his throat, and he swallowed and pushed the thought away. Walking back to the half-cut orange he'd left, he picked the knife back up and began slicing into the fruit once more, catching the man on the other side of the bar watching him over his beer.
"So, you work as security somewhere?" Vincent asked, not once looking up as he continued to slice like a well-oiled machine. A soft chuckle escaped the man's throat, and Vincent glanced up briefly.
"Yeah, you could say that," he replied, nearly finished with his beer. Pausing again in his cutting, he reached out and tapped the man's glass. He only smiled and nodded, Vincent taking the glass and refilling it. Turning back and setting it down, the two dollars were already on the counter waiting. Placing the money into the register, he took a quick glance at the clock:
'1:30am'
"Well shit..." he muttered, scratching the back of his neck and turning back around. So little to do and so much more time he'd be here...
"I was actually supposed to go in for my shift tonight, but my night got mixed up with one of the other guard's," the other supplied suddenly, lifting the glass and taking a large swig. Vincent raised an eyebrow at him, smiling as he finished the orange slice.
"Ah, so you decided a drink was a good idea," Vincent replied, tossing the rest of the orange slices into the correct bin and wiping the cutting board off.
"Beats the hell out of going right back home. There's no fun in that~" The man grinned now, and Vincent grinned back, shrugging a shoulder. He had a point. Vince would've done the same thing. The man leaned back a little, glancing around the bar. Since he'd sat down, the man who'd been nursing his beer had left, and the couple in the corner were practically in each others pants. "Quite around here. Haven't seen the place so dead. It's even a little too quiet for it being the middle of the week."
Vincent shrugged another shoulder, wiping down another glass that he was sure he'd only picked up a couple times. "I haven't been working here long, but it's pretty fucking boring around here when it's quiet. I have never been in a bar this dead, let alone working it." The other man raised a hand slightly in a 'what can you do?' kind of gesture, taking another long gulp of his beer. "You come here often then?" Vince asked, setting the glass down, and picking another one up. This one looked as if it could use some cleaning-
"Often enough. I was wondering why I hadn't seen you before. Makes sense that you're new," the other said, tilting his head back with the glass to his lips, draining the rest of the beer. Setting it back down, he raised a fist to his mouth and belched loudly, the sound only slightly muffled. "'Scuse me~"
Vincent reached out again to grab the glass. As he wrapped his hand around the handle of it, the other man reached out, placing his hand over Vincent's. Glancing up at the other, the man smiled again, but this time it was different. Vincent almost instantly knew what the smile was.
"Yes?" he asked, voice purring again.
"No more, thanks. Though, I do have another proposition," he began in a rumble, hand never leaving Vincent's own as they continued to keep eye contact. "See if you can ditch this place. We can go do something a little more...fun."
"Fun? More fun than tending to a dead bar?" Vincent asked, the other chuckling gently.
"By far more fun," he replied, raising his eyebrows a little and removing his hand. Vincent carefully removed the glass from the counter, setting into the rack to be washed later before smirking at the other and walking toward the back-end of the bar. The manager was there, a stout and portly man with a thick black mustache and a balding head. He was much shorter than Vincent, but that never stopped him from running the place like he practically owned it. He heaved a heavy sigh, poking at a calculator as he continued to go over paperwork.
"Stan," Vincent began and grabbing the other's attention.
"Vincent, sorry, just going over the reports for a third time," Stan said, sighing so heavily that his belly heaved and his mustache moved with the action.
"Something not coming up right?" he inquired, glancing down at the paperwork.
"No, everything is coming up right, there just isn't anything better to do," he replied, rubbing the top of his head gently. "Speaking of, how has it been up there? We been getting a lot of business while I've had my nose to the books?" The taller man shook his head. "Ah, shit...afraid that's what you were going to say."
"Listen, Stan, I wanted to ask something-" Vincent began. The other cut him off with a huff as he stood up.
"Yes, go home," he replied. Vincent shook his head with slight bewilderment, and Stan only smiled, "I'd want to leave if it was this dead too. If for some reason it picks back up before Caroline gets here at 4, I'll be calling you back here to help. In the meantime, go home and get some rest." With a wave of his thick hand, Stan worked his way up to the bar.
With a shrug of his shoulders, Vincent scooted in behind Stan and prodded the register's computer awake, before punching in his employee ID and clocking out. There were literally no tips to report, so he was in and out of the system in no time. With a quick motion he plucked his coat from under the register and shrugged it on.
Turning now and walking around the side of the bar, he stood near the man seated at the stool. At spotting Vincent coming around, the other stood up, smirking devilishly. Without a word, he turned and began walking out of the bar, Vincent following close behind.
The air was still chilly despite it being the middle of March, Vince pulling his jacket around him just a little tighter as he followed the other man toward one of the only cars in the parking lot. When he stopped at the other's car with him, the man gave him a weird look. Vince shrugged a shoulder a little. "No car. I walk to and from the bar." he replied, grinning. The other man nodded, before unlocking the car, both hopping into it to get out of the cold air. "By the way, I never caught your name."
"Richard," the man replied, smirking. Vincent grinned, reaching out a hand which Richard grabbed onto and shook firmly.
"Vincent," he offered, his grin widening a little and withdrawing his hand. Richard only nodded in response. Wasting no time, he started the car, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the street.
Richard opened the front door to the small home, Vincent right on his heels as he stepped in after and closed the door.
"Lock it," Richard said, taking his hat off and placing it on the coat hanger on the wall. Vincent did as he was told, securing the deadbolt and shrugging his own coat off. Placing it below where Richard had hung his hat, he carefully removed his shoes and placed them neatly by the door. By then Richard had navigated through the living room to the left, walking around the cream couch settled in front of a television on a glass stand. "C'mon~" he rumbled, motioning with a crooked finger at Vince to follow.
"Right behind you~" Vincent replied, navigating the same path Richard had utilized. The slightly shorter man lead him toward the back of the house into a hallway. Hanging a right down the hallway, then near instantly a left, the man opened a door to a bedroom. The room was mostly bare, a king-sized bed settled against the back wall in the middle of the room, the faint smell of some kind of cologne hanging in the air. Richard kicked his own shoes off at the foot of the bed, turning and sitting down on the red sheets. Walking in, Vincent followed close behind, shutting the door after himself. As Richard smirked up at him, Vincent returned the gesture with a seductive grin. He positioned himself just a few inches from the other man on the bed.
"Before we start," Vincent said in a rumble, "I have to warn you that I like it quite rough. I hope you can handle it~"
Richard only tilted his head, smirk never once leaving his face, raising his hand and crooking his finger. Moving closer to him, the man murmured, "Funny you should say that..." Without warning, the other's fingers were threading themselves into Vincent's hair, grabbing and pulling the other to his knees, holding tightly. Bending Vincent's head back enough to look down at him, his smirk widened into a grin. "Because I like dishin' it out rough. Hope you can handle it~"
Vincent was already getting hard, the sharp ache of his hair being held so tightly continually fading into a gentle wave of pleasure that managed to work it's way through his body. Though the angle he was being bent at was awkward, he didn't actually mind at the moment.
"I'm sure I can," he replied, voice purring and thickening with arousal, holding eye contact with the other. Richard's grin melted into a smirk, and though he didn't loosen his grip, he allowed Vince's head to return to a more natural position.
"Unbutton 'em, and start sucking," he commanded, tilting his head as he watched him. Vincent did not hesitate, his mouth already watering at the thought. Reaching forward, he undid the button, and unzipped the fly, pulling the pants open slightly. Carefully navigating his hand through the opening in the briefs he was wearing, he withdrew the already hardening cock, precum glistening on the tip.
With the guidance of the other's hand on the back of his head, he leaned forward and took the tip into his mouth, humming softly at the taste of an almost sweet saltyness hitting his tongue. Inching his head forward, he took a couple more inches into his mouth, and he felt the other shifting around him. With a quick motion, Richard pushed Vincent all the way down onto him, the head of the other's cock hitting the back of his throat. The motion and force of it caused Vincent to salivate more, his own member throbbing painfully in his pants as he released a strangled moan.
"There you go...not even gagging, you're good at this," Richard purred, pulling Vincent's head back and forth, pushing himself as deep as he could possibly go each time. Vincent's nose collided with the other's pelvis each time, his own eyes closing as his throat was fucked thoroughly. Reaching down a hand as he allowed Richard to do as he pleased with his mouth for the moment, he pressed a hand roughly against himself, moaning again at the ache and slight pleasure of his own straining erection. A sudden, sharp tug on Vincent's hair brought him back to the man in front of him. "Touching yourself? You don't have to be sneaky. Go ahead. Whip it out."
Pulling Vincent off of himself, he let him go for the moment. Vincent stood quickly, Richard following the motion, unbuckling his belt and popping open his button. Unzipping his fly as Richard pulled his pants and briefs down effectively exposing himself, Vincent slipped his own pants off. Richard snickered, realizing that the other hadn't been wearing any underwear.
"I like going commando. Less articles of clothing to keep track of like this," he replied, smirking. Richard sat back down and Vincent lowered himself back onto his knees. Without waiting for the command to do so, Vincent went right back at working him in his mouth. His left hand held Richard steady, and his right reached down to stroke himself. He tried to match the pace of his hand to the bobbing motion, the sounds wet and sloppy, saliva dripping down Richard's shaft and over his sac.
"Mmm, you're messy aren't ya?" he murmured huskily, watching with fascination as Vincent kept a steady pace on his own cock and Richard's. "Never seen someone so coordinated before." Vincent could offer no real reply, other than trying to smirk around a mouth-full of dick. Bobbing and salivating all over the erect muscle, he felt a tightening in his lower abdomen as he continued his quick strokes over his own cock. Vincent's entire body was becoming more and more tense, the more he sucked and stroked. Richard was well aware of what was happening, reaching around to pluck the hairband from Vincent's hair, letting it fall to his shoulders. Before Vincent could protest, Richard was threading his fingers through the hair at the base of his skull and pulling Vincent off of him roughly. Vince panted softly, tongue hanging out just past his bottom lip as he gazed up at Richard.
"Y'mind?" he said, licking his lips and glancing down at his cock still in his hand.
"Doesn't matter to me. As long as I can still fuck your ass, cum all you like," he replied, an almost lazy smirk flitting across his face. "Go ahead. I want to see." Vincent began stroking himself nearly immediately, the motion frantic as he felt Richard tighten his grip a little more on his hair. The pressure began to build again, having only deflated a little when his motions had stopped previously. A coil tightened in his gut, almost painful as he felt his sac tighten too.
"Sh-sh-shit-!"
With a low groan, Vincent unloaded himself all over the duvet cover of the bed, the spasms almost violent and the spurts plentiful.
Richard chuckled, tilting Vincent's head up to look at him as he finished, the man below him panting and shaking just slightly. "That didn't take much did it? Kind of sensitive, aren't ya?"
"B-Been a while since I've had this," he mumbled, licking his lips as he stared up at Richard with lidded eyes. "What can I say?"
"Round two starts right now," Richard replied. Pulling Vincent up by his hair, Richard stood, making the other stand as well. Turning roughly, he tossed Vince onto the bed none-too-kindly, Vincent landing on his side. Turning over quickly so as to not miss any action happening, he watched Richard crawl his way onto the bed, looming over Vincent. A hand reached out and ripped at the top button of Vincent's shirt, revealing some of his chest and neck. The bulkier male leaned down, pressing his lips to the crook of Vincent's neck almost gently. Tilting his head to allow better access, Richard began sucking on the tender bit of skin, pulling blood to the surface and heightening the sensitivity.
The action went on for a few more minutes, Richard occasionally finding another spot to suck on his shoulder before going right back to the same crook as before. It had gotten to the point that just feeling the breath of the other on it made his cock twitch, as he continued to recover from his first orgasm. When he felt that the spot had been well abused, the skin dark now from the bruising and blood at the surface, Richard scraped his teeth gently over the original patch he had started on. The shock of sensitivity made Vincent nearly jump, and once Richard bit down hard enough to draw blood, Vincent was hard again without much work.
"Fuck...!" he hissed, the feeling of the warm blood running over his shoulder and down his back to bleed into his shirt. With a soft tug of the teeth dislodging themselves from his skin, Richard leaned back and licked his lips, missing a little on his bottom one. Vincent leaned up and closed the gap, kissing the other roughly as he tasted the metallic tang of his own blood on the other's lips and tongue. Richard hummed low in his throat, the sound practically coming from his chest as he pushed Vincent to lay back down. Breaking the kiss, Richard quickly unbuttoned the rest of Vincent's shirt and helped him pull it off, tossing it haphazardly to the side as it landed near the closet doors off to the right.
Sitting back up, Richard observed the man below him for a moment, his face breaking into a smirk as he leaned toward the bed-side table at his left side. Pulling open the top drawer, he withdrew a bottle of lubricant and another small object. Vincent was happy to see the lube, but even more happy to see the other thing in Richard's hand. The other male continued to smirked devilishly, as he flipped open the small pocket knife, the blade shining just slightly in the moonlight filtering through the window.
Holding the knife in his mouth by clenching his teeth over the blade carefully, he pulled Vince's hips more toward himself, Vincent hoisting his own legs against his chest and exposing his entrance. Popping the snap cap off of the lube, Richard squeezed the tube gently, the clear gel plopping onto the tight ring of outer muscles, Vincent shivering just a bit at the coolness. Popping the cap closed for the moment, Richard set it down on the bed. Using his left hand he began spreading the lubricant over the puckered entrance, coating his fingers as well. Using his right, he removed the knife from his mouth and pointed it at Vincent's chest.
"Let's see how many times it takes before you start bleeding," he rumbled, eyes lidded and mouth smirking. Vince only waited in anticipation, watching as slowly, Richard lowered the knife to the middle of his chest. With crawling, deliberate motions, Richard applied pressure enough to make Vincent flinch just slightly, arms getting goosebumps as Richard drew the knife down the middle of his chest. The pressure wasn't enough to draw blood, but the rise that it made in the skin looked beautiful, Vincent groaning throatily as Richard lifted the knife and pressed it back down on another spot on his chest, once more drawing the knife blade across the skin. On the third slow stroke of the knife, Richard slipped a lubricated finger into Vincent, and the male tensed up a bit, his cock twitching against his belly at the combination of the pressure of the knife and the finger in his ass, pressing in deeper.
"N-nng..."
Richard tutted a little as he smirked, making line after line over his chest and stomach. He eventually worked in a second finger to continue prepping the other male for himself. With every stroke of the blade, Richard pumped the two fingers in and out of the panting man before him. Vincent's cock felt like it was going to burst from the strain, as he tilted his head back and screwed his eyes shut. With the welts all over his chest and stomach tender, Richard drew the knife again and again over the cuts, Vincent moaning and purring deep in his chest. Pulling out the two fingers, Richard added a third. Placing the knife back down over the cut he had started with, he pressed down just a bit harder and drew it down sharply, at the same time inserting the three fingers. The blood welled up suddenly down his chest, and Vincent's eyes flew open, the stinging and warmth of the blood and the full feeling in his ass just about did him in.
The man hovering above him only laughed, drawing the knife across other cuts and opening them as well, the blood mixing with Vincent's sweat and dripping down his sides and onto the bedsheets below. Somewhere in the back of his head, he wondered how Richard was going to get the blood out of the bed after they were done. Opening a few more cuts and spreading his fingers within Vincent to get the best result, he withdrew when he felt satisfied and that his cock couldn't take much more cool air. Vince expelled a puff of air, running his fingers through his matted hair as he watched Richard lube himself up, cock shiny from the gel and how hard the other was.
"I'm ready to get fucked, yeah? C'mon, stick it in," Vince said at a bass rumble, grinning at Richard. The other smirked, before smacking one of Vince's ass cheeks.
"Sit up and flip over, you'll get what's comin' to ya," he replied, voice almost graveley and thick with arousal. Vincent flipped over instantly, raising his back end toward Richard and lowering his top half to the bed to rest. None-too-kindly, Richard began pressing himself into his tight ass, Vincent grabbing hold of his own cock and squeezing, lessening the pain of suddenly having something long and thick intruding on his insides. With deliberate movement, Richard planted himself all the way to the base, smacking Vince's right ass cheek roughly, enjoying the ringing sound that accompanied it. Vincent only wiggled a little, indicating that the other should start moving.
Pulling himself back just slightly, his movements shallow, he smacks Vince's ass every couple of thrusts, switching between the left and right cheek. Picking the knife back up from where he tossed it at on the bed, Richard begain drawing it over Vince's back now too, this time pressing in hard enough to watch the blood well up instantly, the cuts short and shallow, but bleeding none-the-less.
"F-Fuck...c'mon...Richard...harder-!" Vince managed, any other words dissolving into deep moans. Richard did not hesitate to pick his pace up, eagerly slamming himself into the other as he continued to draw more blood and make more cuts, the blood dripping down his back and over his shoulders. Some even rolled to mix with the blood on his front, Vincent panting softly and his cock twitching.
The pace stayed like that for a while, Richard pounding his ass roughly, Vince's cuts bleeding and mixing with his sweat, stinging and causing his cock to pulse. It was almost too much for him to handle, as he reached his hand down and grabbed himself. Stroking firmly but slow, he felt Richard leaning into him more, the other man sinking further into Vincent's ass. With a quick motion and once more, Richard had grabbed onto Vince's hair, pulling him to end up flush against him, Vincent's back against Richard's chest.
"Go on. Fucking touch yourself, fucking cum..." he hissed low in Vince's ear, his chin resting on Vince's right shoulder. Vince didn't need to be told twice, as he picked his pace up, the sound of skin against skin rivaling the moaning Vincent was producing. Richard couldn't possibly stop now, thrusting himself in and out with incredible speed, his orgasm building in his lower gut, and in his sac. He was gonna unload into the other pretty fucking soon. "You want my cum in your ass, don't you? Better hurry up and cum, or you won't get the chance!"
Richard tilted his head down a bit, lips coming in contact with Vince's sweet spot, the spot of skin where the neck and the shoulder met. Without any prepping, Richard bit down hard enough to draw blood once more, Vincent shouting in surprise and pleasure. The sudden well up of pain and endorphins flooded his body, and with a couple more strokes, Vincent came. His load hit the headboard of the bed, a little bit splattering onto the window.
With a few more thrusts, Richard was right behind him, purring low in his chest as he spilled himself into Vincent. Satisfaction and pure exhaustion set over both of them as they stayed where they were, too tired to really move. A few more minutes passed before Richard realized he was soft enough to pull out. Leaning back, he glanced down at his front, looking mildly cross. He hadn't taken his shirt off, so now one of his favorite uniform pieces was covered in blood and sweat. Vincent nearly collapsed, arms shaking as he rolled just slightly to avoid the cum that had managed to make it's way onto the mattress, as he sat up. He swayed a little bit, and Richard placed a gentle hand on his shoulder to steady him.
"Stay there and try not to fall over," Richard said, carefully getting off the bed and walking out of the room. Vincent was left in the silence as Richard went off to do who knows what for whatever reason. He nearly passed out from pure exhaustion, and after a few more minutes, managed to stay awake to see Richard come back in with two bottles of water, and a first aid kit. Handing him one of the bottles of water, he instructed him to drink it while he cleaned up his wounds. Vincent normally would have protested this until the end of time, but he had barely enough energy to open the water bottle, let alone argue.
"...s'fine..." he mumbled, drinking half the water bottle. However he did nothing else, allowing Richard to clean and tend to his cuts, both silent as he went about his work. Cleaning everything and wrapping most of his torso in gauze to cover the open wounds, he cleaned the bites in each crook of the neck, admiring the way the left side was bruising beautifully.
After Richard deemed him taken care of, he pulled him gently to his feet, producing a small wad of paper towel and wiping the headboard clean. Luckily none of the pillows received the same fate as the bed sheets; Richard simply pulled one of the other top sheets over the mess, making it sleepable.
"Lay down. I'll take you wherever you wanna go in the morning," he said. Vincent tried to protest, saying he'd just leave now, but Richard merely pushed him back down. "Shut up and lay the fuck down."
Padding over to the other side of the bed and leaving Vincent to wobble himself into a comfortable position, Richard scooted in and laid on his back. Glancing over, Vincent had managed to curl himself int a ball on his side, almost instantly passing out cold. Reaching over, Richard pulled the blanket up over him a little more, before tuning away to face the wall, falling asleep, satisfied with how the night had gone.