OK, just one quick thing before I get started . . .
To all the people who are reading my other stories that haven't been updated, I WILL UPDATE THEM SOON! School gets out next week and I will them have all the free time in the world.
A/N: This came to me on a whim. I was just sitting in class and was like, "Holy smokes! I ACTUALLY HAVE A STORY IDEA MUST WRITE NOW!" If none of you guys read my other stories, then I have had a MAJOR writer's block for a little over 6 months now. And the stories I have been churning out have been half-assed.
The reason this is a 2P story was because I needed practice writing for 2Ps, since I have a whole other story coming out about them that I have been working on.
I HAVE USED THE 2P NAMES FOR THESE GUYS, SO BE WARNED! I picked James for 2P America and Oliver for 2P England.
WARNINGS: Fluff. Some gorey descriptions? I guess. And maybe a little bit of cussing.
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Blood. Blood splattered everywhere. On the walls, the floor, the ceiling . . . himself. Oh, but it wasn't his blood! No, it was theirs, and it made him smile happily to know that he was the one who caused the mess. He was the one to paint this dull room a very pretty shade of red crimson.
Singing happily to himself, he swung the kitchen knife he was holding, twirling it around and around between his fingers. He kneeled down next to the nearest corps, a handsome fellow with light brown hair and – now dulling – green eyes. Its hand was outstretched; wrist bent at an odd angle, as if it were reaching for something – someone.
"Too bad," he cooed, flattening down the corpse's wild hair, "I'm afraid I couldn't keep you. Although I'm sure if I brought you home, I would have a certain someone seething with jealousy. But . . . I guess eating you will be just as pleasant."
He took a deep intake of air through his nose, delighted at the fresh scent of iron mixed with newly rotting flesh. "You have such a delectable smell! Oh, I'm sure James will just have to eat my cupcakes this time! I doubt he will though, always talking about him being a vegetarian, but how can he not love my cupcakes? I make them specially for him!"
The man stood up, dusting off his pale pink sweater vest and mint green tie as best he could, smearing the blood there that hadn't already dried. Then he patted down his short pinkish hair, caked with the dried crimson liquid. No matter how much he loved the colour, it was a mess to get out of things.
"Oh poo, look what a mess you made!" he exclaimed, pouting slightly, hands going limp at his sides. "If only you hadn't struggled so much, I wouldn't have to throw away another one of my good outfits."
His pout soon turned into a smile, his baby blue eyes flashing a bit of pink. "But I guess it couldn't be helped! I do love it when they struggle though; it just makes things more fun!" He giggled, a short sound that, if it weren't for the situation he was in, would have sounded like bells chiming.
His laugh was cut short however when someone else entered the room. The newcomer's hair was a long length in the back, reaching just to the nape of his neck. Bangs hung in the front, just covering his eyes and a stubborn lick of hair stood up oddly at the right side of his head. His eyes were a startling crimson, looking out uncaringly to the world around him. He, as well, was covered in blood, albeit not as much as the other man in the room was. Instead of a knife, he was carrying a baseball bat littered with nails and blood – both old and new.
"Oliver," he shouted at the man standing beside the corps, "stop talking to your food! We need to get moving before those lazy ass cops actually notice something's up."
"Now now, James," Oliver chided, waggling a finger at his partner and seeming to ignore him completely, "it's not nice to swear. I don't want to have to wash your mouth out with soap again. I don't really fancy the taste."
James just seemed to frown more, a slight 'tch' making its way past his lips as Oliver's smile widened, showing off more of his pearly white teeth. "Just stop with that shit eating grin and help me put your dessert in the bag."
James didn't even know why he helped his boyfriend gather ingredients for his cupcakes. He didn't even eat the damned thing. He was, after all, a vegetarian - although Oliver never quite seemed to get that. Maybe the reason he helped in these little killing sprees was because he liked ripping up innocent people with his bat. Liked to hear their screams as they were hacked to death by his own hands.
Or maybe, a little voice in his head chastised, maybe you just love Oliver and like to see him happy.
James shook his head, ridding it of the thought. He'd be dead before he admitted to himself or anyone else that all he ever did in his life was try to make Oliver happy – although that wasn't really hard, Oliver was grinning no matter what you did. James swore that if you cut off his arms and legs and left him in the middle of nowhere he would still be smiling that stupid smile of his. It irked James sometimes, and for once he wished Oliver would just frown or smirk or do something other than smile.
But then again, that wouldn't really be Oliver, would it? James thought as he stuffed the head of the corps into the body bag and zipped it up.
But it was the satisfaction of knowing he put that grin on Oliver's face. He was the one that helped carefully select each one of Oliver's special ingredients for his cupcakes.
James let the smallest remnants of a smile form on his lips as he slung the body bag over his left shoulder, supporting it with the same hand as he grabbed Oliver's waist with his right arm and pulled the giddy and excited man close to him, kissing him roughly and tasting iron. He pulled away.
"Have you been sneaking a taste?" he questioned, face completely blank as he looked at Oliver.
Oliver just smiled, light blue eyes lighting up as he licked his lips. "Maybe~ . . ." he trilled, wrapping his arms around the taller man's waist, putting his head on James's broad chest as he hugged him.
James stiffened, pulling away quickly and heading out the door. "Alright, enough dilly dallying, we need to get this thing home before it starts to decay."
With a happy little giggle, Oliver followed, skipping close behind his partner.
Nope. James was totally never going to admit how in love he had fallen with the cannibalistic psychopath named Oliver Kirkland.
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I'M SO SORRY IF THIS SUCKS! IT'S LIKE MY FIRST ATTEMPT AT USUK AND I JUST SUCK AT WRITING THEM AND I'VE BEEN ON A HIATUS FOR MONTHS AND MY WRITING SUCKS I'M SO SORRY!
Also, expect some pretty depressing fics coming out. My depression is getting to me again and I just feel sad and empty all the time.
PLEASE REVIEW!