#trick weaver

Everyone watched the knife spin. No one remembered whose idea it was in the first place—or whose knife it was—but here they were, surrounded by the party, the music, the raucous laughter and bottomless alcohol. The party was in full swing. Evan was across from him, that fiery orange hair unmistakable, sticking out like a sore thumb with his barely-modifed track suit and plastic mask like a poor imitation of a devil—cheeky bastard.

Trick actually liked Evan. The guy wasn't all bad. Maybe a little hot-headed sometimes, but what high schooler wasn't? He was more jock than academic, more street-smart than book-smart; but that's kind of what Patrick liked about him. Someone unpredictable, someone Trick actually didn't want to hurt—not like this anyway.

So when the knife slid to a stop pointing squarely at Evan, Trick glanced between the rest of the people around the circle. The group jeered and laughed, egging him on, admonishing him for trying to reach for the knife for a re-spin. Trick turned his jack-o-lantern mask around to the sad frown-y side and tilted his head in a mock display of sympathy.

Little did they know that once he got his fingers around that knife, none of them would be in any fit state to be leaving this party alive.

"Trick! Trick! Trick! Trick!" His name, chanted like a mantra, hands shoving him towards Evan like a dare. It was a dare, but a dare that he was betting on winning. His gloved hand brushed Evan's temple as the others laughed self-consciously, whipping out their phones to record this inevitable blackmail.

Trick felt for the knife, his fingers closing around the handle as he thought run, shoving Evan away from him as he drove the blade with a satisfying squelch into the boy to his right's abdomen, watching with bated breath as Evan stumbled to his feet. It didn't matter where the other boy went; Trick would find him later.

For now, there were throats to be slit, blood to be spilled.

Trick cut through them like the smooth slide of scissors through wrapping paper, slick and satisfying. Their screams fading to choking gurgles as they all eventually died, lying torn up and bloody—his favorite version of Christmas morning—as he wiped off the blade and went to find Evan.

The boy was in an upstairs room, paring his fingernails with a pocket knife, as casual as anything; as if he hadn't just listened to Trick slaughtering his classmates as methodically as a science teacher on fetal pig day.

"That was quick," was all Evan said as he flipped the knife closed and pocketed it. Trick tossed his own knife, which clattered with the 'Trick' side upward onto the bedside table.

Evan stood, his clean hands reaching for the blood-spattered Jack-o-lantern mask, still turned to the sad side. Evan pushed it up and off of Trick's head, revealing his sweaty face, smeared with black greasepaint. The large black smudges around his coffee-brown eyes made him look like a raccoon, or a bank robber, nostrils still flaring from adrenaline as he licked his full lips.

"Do you still want that kiss?" Evan's voice was low—as if they were still downstairs and encircled by all of their dumb classmates. They had been celebrating their last Halloween as Seniors, contraband alcohol included, and Trick could smell the sweet booze on Evan's breath as they inched closer together, that sensual dance right before utter disaster.

What could be more fitting than fucking in the house where everyone you knew from school was lying in puddles of their own blood while your accomplice tangled his tongue with yours, the two of you tasting the blood of innocents like savoring a heady communion wine? It was, in Trick's mind, perfect.

Evan's pale, spotless hands tore at his clothes, the two of them huffing sighs against one another's mouths as they undressed hurriedly, trading nips of teeth and red-toothed smiles as the two of them pulled at each other's clothing. Trick's was absolutely soaked with red, sticky gore still clinging to him like birthing fluid as Evan pressed their naked bodies together, smearing the evidence around like so much syrup, sweet and tangy.

Trick smirked wolfishly as he walked Evan backwards against the bed, the other boy's knees bumping against the mattress as if this was just something everyone did with their classmates. But their fight and flight responses were still through the roof—Evan from the running and hiding and Trick from all of the murder.

Evan smiled, wrapping his arms around Trick's neck and falling with him ungracefully to the bed, watching with large curious eyes as the fresh killer wrapped a sticky red hand around their quickly stiffening cocks.

"Mmm- Trick-!" Evan gasped, arching up against those squeezing fingers. Trick licked his teeth like a wolf and grinned before leaning down and filling Evan's mouth with his tongue. Their kissing got heavier as Evan squirmed underneath him, groaning and trying to clutch his shoulders in his slippery fingers.

The bedspread was absolutely ruined already, sticking to their skin as Trick rummaged through the side table drawers. There had to be lotion or lube here somewhere. He finally found a bottle and pushed it into Evan's hands.

"What do you want to do? I don't mind either way," Evan half-whispered, the adrenaline in his blood being replaced with lust. Trick snatched the bottle as Evan's fingers wrapped around them, picking up where Trick's had left off. The pink smear of blood and other bodily fluids streaked their bellies as Trick squeezed some lube onto his fingers and moved his hand behind him.

"Oh…" Evan's voice was dripping with disbelief. He honestly thought that this ruthless killer was going to top him first. Not that he wouldn't enjoy the show regardless. It's not like they didn't have all the time in the world. Evan grunted as Trick put his full weight on the boy's chest, sliding one and then two slicked up fingers into his tight hole.

The grunt that Trick loosed at the building pressure inside of him was absolutely sinful, making both of their cocks throb in Evan's stroking fingers. A lopsided smile played on that paint-streaked mouth, kissed plump and bruised by Evan's teeth. Trick's eyes scanned the other boy's face, those honey-brown eyes hungry and deep as he plunged and scissored his fingers.

He'd played enough on his own to know what he liked, exploring his body when everyone else had gone to bed, muffling his groans against his pillow, the sheets reeking of sweat and personal conquest. Trick slid his fingers free and batted Evan's hand out of the way, sitting up on his knees to angle Evan's cock against his puckered rim.

"Are we really doing this?" Evan blurted nervously. "I mean, I'm not complaining, I just- ooooo-kay…." He relaxed back against the pillows as Trick cut him a Do you really want to stop now? look before sinking down with a strangled groan onto the other boy's rigid shaft.

They were blood-streaked and sweaty as Evan gripped Trick's hips helplessly, staring up at this guy's face—the guy who had just murdered all of their classmates and was now taking his cock up the ass like a champ; like they were made to fit together like this.

He had gone to the party thinking that it would be some lame try-hard fake-o frat thing, but instead had ended up with the one guy who was more real than the lot of them put together. And to top it all off, his ass felt fucking amazing!

"Heh… Trick…" Evan panted, hissing as Trick's short nails dug into the meat of his pecs. The blood-streaked boy raised and lowered himself like an animal in heat, taking all he could get and more as he grunted and forced himself down against Evan's hips. Evan could see the flames of desire building in Trick's eyes, licking at the edges of his own vision hot enough to burn this house down around them.

"Hnngh… mm…nngh!" Trick had always been a quiet guy at school, keeping mostly to himself, but when Trick had shoved him out of the spin-the-knife circle, Evan had seen the flash of anger in his eyes and somehow knew that it wasn't directed at him; the brush of those gloved fingers against his cheek had proved that. Even through the cool leather he'd sensed that Trick was up to something that didn't need to include him, at least not then.

But now, secluded, alone and reeking of gore and sex, the heat between them was intense; the desire all-consuming as passion and dirty need fueled their moans, their grasping fingers, their snarling, biting mouths. This lust was a rutting animal that ate at Trick's heart as well as his own and Evan wasn't leaving here without both of them being satisfied.

"Trick… fuck!" was all he could think of to say as the boy above him ground his hips down, panting and smirking like the Devil made flesh. Evan's fingers gripped Trick's hips tighter, bucking his own up to meet the other boy's muscled body, their skin sweat-slick and sticky with blood as he fucked his cock into Trick's more-than-willing hole.

"Just like that… so tight… Jesus…" Evan was losing it fast, his dick throbbing against Trick's tight walls, slick with lube and blood, the two of them trading frantic sloppy kisses as Trick rocked himself down against Evan, his whimpers loud in the warm room, desperate and needy; begging for more. Evan's hand found the curve of Trick's cock, stroking him as they moved together. It was the least he could do.

"Trick… Trick…" He whispered it like a mantra. Like an unholy prayer to a wrathful pagan god. With blood on his tongue, he thanked Fate that he'd decided to come to this party tonight. Everyone else may have had a bad time—lying there lifeless and dead on the grungy living room carpet—but he was here, upstairs with the most feral, beastly, perfect boy he had ever laid eyes on.

"Gnnrgh! Uunngh!" Trick couldn't stop the weak little rolls of his hips towards Evan's grasping fingers, fucking himself stupid on that thick piece of flesh while also wanting to grind into the circle of Evan's tight fist, spilling over his peak no matter which direction he chose. Evan's own heady groan was wailed in his ear as Evan came hard and fast inside of him, holding him down by the hip as he shuddered to completion under Trick's weight.

Their hard panting subsided as the high of climax washed over them both, the smell of blood, sharp and sweet as a blade, suffused the room like a heady perfume. Trick braced himself on the ruined pillows, easing Evan's dick out of his sore-but-satisfied body and collapsed to the sheets with a groan.

Evan sat up and searched for his pants. "You know I'm an accomplice, right? And a loose end…?" Trick tilted his head the same adorable way that he had during the spin-the-knife game when the blade had landed squarely towards Evan; but this time there was no mask to hide the look on his face.