It was a beautiful day out. The sky was blue and the air was breezy. It was a lovely spring day, and Jeffrey Dahmer was stuck inside, sick. He lay on his side in bed, staring longingly out the window. Watching the birds fly by and the happy spring-time couples walking hand in hand. Jeffrey rolled his eyes, and turned away from the window, subconsciously jealous of everyone who was outside.
(and of the happy couples)
His thoughts wandered momentarily to someone he knew for a moment, but he forced out the somewhat unwelcome thoughts. He licked his dry lips and cleared his throat. Groaning, he reached unsuccessfully for his glass of water on the bedside table. He heard a bang from the bathroom. Startled for only a moment, he remembered the boy hew picked up last night.
So that's why he had a headache. He had a cold and a hangover. Jeffrey wondered how long the boy had been awake; if you could call it that. Dahmer had knocked the boy out and continued on his ritual of drilling the front of the skull, and destroying the front of the brain (which controlled free will) with acid poured through the holes. The boy was probably gargling his own filth in there. Maybe Jeff could bring him out and
no. He wasn't in the mood. He lay there, sort of pathetically, but soon thoughts ran through his head, and he fell into a gentle sleep.
* * * * *
Jeffrey woke quite suddenly to the feeling of someone hovering over him. He opened his eyes sharply. Ted Bundy, the man who had stolen his thoughts so often was standing over him, smirking. Jeffrey quickly snatched up the blankets and pulled them over his fevered body.
how did you get in here?!" he yelped, still drowsily confused.
"Well, I was just going to use your bathroom, but
" Ted laughed. Jeffrey rolled his eyes again.
"Can you pass me my water?" he said in a cracked voice, not really expecting Bundy to heed his wants. But to his surprise, Ted picked up the sweating glass and handed it to him. The ice cubes had melted. Jeffrey held it up to his lips, and swallowed a mouthful of the cold water.
"Thanks," Jeffrey said, smiling weakly. Ted smiled and found himself enticed in Jeffrey's eyes for only am moment, then he threw his hair back with a quick wave of his head, and shook it off. The last thing he needed was emotions, especially for Dahmer.
"Well, I'm going to try to use your bathroom." Ted smirked, and left the room.
Jeffrey lay under the hot covers and sighed. He had mixed emotions about Ted. Maybe he'd be nicer to him today because he was sick
Ted flung Jeffrey's zombie into the hallway wall, and entered the bathroom. He found himself facing himself in the mirror. He stood for a moment, watching, then he walked to the sink and turned on the cold water. He could hear Jeff's love-slave outside, breathing heavily and bubbling in its throat. Jeffrey was a fucking lovesick lunatic where Ted was concerned. So why couldn't he stop thinking about him? And what was so wrong with him that the only way he could show it was to torment him? Oh, well. He got what he wanted, didn't he? Jeffrey was wrapped around his finger. He was putty in his hands. He could get anything out of him, and that was all he needed. Ted splashed the cold water onto his face He looked toward the shower. God, he needed one. But not here. There was blood all over the tub, and vomit, probably belonging to Jeff's zombie. And Jeffrey was an effing freak. Who knows what he'd do if he heard the shower go on and remembered the broken lock on the bathroom door; the result of their last fight. Ted had slammed Jeffrey against the door over and over again like a doll while Dahmer cried. And the funny thing was, he didn't even remember why they had fought. Why he had ill intentions towards Jeffrey and had spent the night brutally beating him up and yelling at him. Jeffrey had broke, though, He kind of just cried and took it, Ted remembered. And when the police arrived, Jeffrey just quietly told Ted to hide and he lied to them. He told them he had gotten into a fight on the street and was yelling at no one and hitting things because he was disappointed in 'not getting the punks back.' The police had assured him they would patrol the streets and that it was okay that he didn't do anything. How could he? His nose was bleeding profusely. He had a black eye. He had purple bruises at random intervals all over his body. And when they left, Jeffrey had just grabbed a beer and lay face up on the couch quietly. Ted had just left on his own terms. He had slammed the door, actually frustrated that he couldn't get more out of Dahmer. And Jeffrey just let him back in every time.
What a tool.
The dried his face and hands and left the bathroom, almost tripping on Jeffrey's zombie. He entered Jeff's room, then without thinking, he blurted out:
"Are you okay?"
Jeff looked up, surprised.
"Am I okay?" he asked, mostly just assuring himself of what he had heard. Ted looked p and scratched his head.
"Yeah," he mumbled.
"Yeah, I'm good." Jeff always found their moments of equality somewhat strange. But still kind of nice.
Ted coughed and left the room. Jeffrey's eyes followed him out sadly, wishing Ted wouldn't be so embarrassed and unwilling of emotion.
He supposed Ted couldn't just risk emotion though. He didn't want to give up his life as a lady-killer and doing whatever he did in his just so he could spend his time with Jeffery in a love-hate (more hate than love) relationship.
Ted didn't even think he was attracted to other men. But Jeffery was different. Somehow, Jeffery Dahmer was different. But he could get over it. Ted Bundy had an amazing ability to compartmentalize his emotions. His normal life was in one place, and his serial killer life in another.
But the question was did he really want to ignore his emotions towards Jeffery? He could be kind of cute, sometimes.
Ted went to the kitchen and grabbed a beer from beside what looked like a head in a grocery bag. Well, it was a head in a grocery bag. Then he stopped and grabbed another one for Jeffery. He went back to the bedroom. Jeffery looked up and Ted opened his mouth to say something. He closed his mouth and tossed Jeffery a beer and sat down on the bed by Jeffery's legs. Jeff moved over impulsively.
"You'll get sick
" Jeff whispered. Ted cracked open his beer without a word. Jeffery watched him take a small mouthful, then cracked open his.
Jeffery moved back over and sat up.
"Yeah?" Ted looked over when Jeffery didn't answer. Jeffery cocked his head to the bed beside him. Ted arched his eyebrow. Jeffery shrugged and smiled. Bundy sighed and reluctantly crawled over Jeff's legs and sat beside him. Jeff noticed his own hearbeat suddenly, and he inhaled slowly. He let it out and took a swig of beer. He scooted over closer to Ted, trying to be discreet. Ted looked at him with a "what-do-you-think-you're-doing" look, but said nothing.
Jeff took advantage of Ted's lax attitude, and leaned his hand on his shoulder. Ted adjusted, then leaned his head on Jeffery's slowly. He sighed.
" Ted wandered off.
"What?" Jeff questioned.
"Never mind." Ted said sheepishly.
"No! Tell me!" He protested.
you're cute, okay?" Ted said quickly. Jeffery's heart jumped and he smiled uncontrollably.
"So are you, Teddy," Jeff replied, and close his eyes, still smiling.
"Cute?" Ted laughed.
"Okay, handsome," Jeffery giggled, leaving them both in a mildly, giddy state.
"That's better." Then Ted caught Jeffery completely off guard.
He reached over and took Jeff's hot hand in his. Jeffery smiled and looked away, blushing. Ted stroked the top of Jeff's hand with his thumb.
"Get better, Kay, Jeffrey?"
"Yep!" Jeff squeaked, no being able to keep his composure at all.
Ted lifted his head. It was either the beer, or something else that made Bundy feel like this; and he was pretty heavyweight when it came to drinking, so it must have been something else. Jeffery looked up after him, his hazel eyes shining. Ted squeezed his hand gently and shook his head softy,
keeping his manifest gaze on Jeffery.
I don't like to see you like this, okay
?" He said. Jeffery's face went red hot.
"Okay. I'll get better. I promise
." He said, not being able to talk straight.
Ted nodded and turned away. But after a moment, he started feeling uncomfortable. He wiggled over a bit and pursed his lips.
Jeffery propped himself up, feeling a bit foolish.
Ted could definitely be a moment-wrecker. Bundy scanned the situation.
"God," he grimaced finally. "What am I doing?"
"Huh!" Jeffrey cried.
"I don't like you! I can't like you! It's just wrong!"
Jeff's fever flashed over him. Ted Bundy got up off the bed and stood up.
"I've gotta go." He shook his head and left.
And that was that. Jeffrey was left very suddenly feeling foolish and alone. He lay in bed staring ahead for a while, only aware of his own sadness. Depression hung in the air so thick he could feel it.
He got up and went to the hallway. He grabbed his zombie boy by the hair, dragged him into the room and laid him on the bed.
And as Jeffrey lay with it, he couldn't help noticing how cold; how unfeeling
how damning it was. It just wasn't the same anymore. It used to make him feel better to have one of his slaves with him.
But now he felt more alone than ever.