Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A cool breeze carried it’s way through the trees, rustling the leaves and sending a chill up y/n’s spine. The fabric of his shirt lifting gently in the wind, he hurriedly made his way to his front door fumbling with the keys. His apartment was a rather run down little building, all leaky pipes and cracked concrete. Rent was cheap, fittingly so only a few hundred a month for the small cramped space they called an apartment. One bedroom, one bath, and the world's smallest living room and kitchen area. Hardly large enough for a small couch and Tv set. But it was all he could afford working full time at Ross and attending community college. His apartment sat on the first floor, which meant lousy upstairs neighbors stomping around at all hours and the inability to have his curtains left open for fear of people on the street peering in.

Y/n tapped his foot on the ground impatiently as his frozen hands struggled to aim correctly. Keys jingling slightly as he hastily pushed them into the lock and turned, the warm air from his apartment hit softly as he stepped inside and kicked off his shoes. He took a deep breath, the exhaustion from the day creeping up his legs like a vine. Tossing his belongings to the floor he collapsed into the couch. His eyes grew heavy as he sunk in, every fiber of his being feeling the fatigue of his eventful day. Sleep washed over him in a soft warm wave, only for a moment however. The uncomfortable stiffness of jeans and the days grime and sweat make it hard to get settled, exasperated he stood feet aching with every step he took. Swinging the bedroom door open he was met with an unsettling cold chill. Chills ran up his spine and his stomach dropped at the sight of his bedroom window wide open.

“Fuck” y/n whispered under his breath. His hands felt clammy against the door knob as he slowly turned ready to book it. Something stops him however, he knows the best option, the smartest option would be to silently close the door and call the cops or at least one of his neighbors, but he doesn’t. Instead he silently, stupidly tiptoes his way into the room. Slowly he peeks around the corner where a rather large man lay in what he can only presume is a pool of his own blood. Unsure of what to do he bites back his fear and slowly approaches the man.

“Shit- are you okay?” his voice unsteady as he makes an attempt to assess the man's condition. Taking his index and middle finger to the man's neck he feels a pulse. He lifts the man’s drenched sweatshirt revealing the source of his bleeding. The wound on his lower abdomen is small and somewhat circular in shape.

Y/n’s hand shakily reaches for his cell ready to flip it open and dial the police, but a large hand clamps down onto his wrist stopping him.

“Don’t” low and commanding as the grip on y/n’s wrist tightens.

“Sir you’re bleeding an awful lot, you need an ambulance” he explains attempting to yank his arm free, it doesn’t budge. Only then does he take the time to look at the man's face. Long since healed scars sunken in and reddish extended from the corners of his mouth to the mid of his cheeks, forming a crude smile.

Y/n’s heart quickened as he recognized him, he had been all over the news a few years back when the police had caught him after being identified as the El Paso stabber. (silly name ik bear with me) His mugshot had gone viral due to his unsettling appearance and apparent lack of remorse. He’d gone the entirety of his court case with a smirk plastered on his face, even after being convicted with over twelve felonies, most of which being first-degree murder charges. He’d never felt so sick his entire life, he had been caught what the hell was he doing out of prison and all the way in California.

“Yer not callin the fuckin cops doll.” His voice firm with a noticeable southern drawl. “Give it here”

His grip on the cell loosened at the feeling of cold metal pressed to the back of his neck. Releasing a shaky breath he reluctantly let go of the cell phone allowing the man to pocket it. He felt hot tears prick at his eyes, the feeling of horror washed over him in waves, the realization of what this truly meant heavy in his chest. Defenseless, unarmed, and alone with a deranged serial killer who killed for the thrill of it.

“What-” what are you going to do to me? The words caught in his throat too afraid to know the answer.

"you're gonna fuckin help me, or I'm gonna kill you, ya go that?" he asked through clenched teeth, the cool metal pressing into y/n’s skin further. His head felt hot and fuzzy as he tried to hold back the tears.

“Okay, i’ll- yeah i’ll help you” he let out shakily.

The man began to sit up, wincing as pain shot through his lower abdomen at the sudden movement, his brows furrowed in annoyance. Y/n hurriedly assisted him, his arms looped underneath the man’s own hoisting him onto the bed.

“Uhm so-” y/n began nervously.

“get some fucking bandages or something fore' I bleed to death" he chided. Y/n rushed to the bathroom cabinet producing his first aid kit, a needle, and floss.

“Were you- shot?” he questioned as he lifted the man's soaked sweatshirt once more.

"yeah, great going Sherlock" He mocked, flashing an insincere smile. “Real bright one ain'tcha” He rolled his eyes, before motioning him to begin.

Y/n began cleaning the wound, as he worked he couldn’t help but wonder what had happened. Who shot him? How was he not in prison right now?

“Who-” he cleared his throat “who shot you” his eyes widened in surprise at his own words, as if he hadn’t expected himself to actually ask.

“god what is this 20 questions, why the fuck should I tell you anything” he barked his eyebrows somehow furrowing more than before. ”fuck you’re annoying” he sighed.

Y/n kept quiet as he continued to work, the bullet still lodged inside the man’s abdomen. A shaky hand reached for his pliers as he took a deep breath in, then out.

“Just take the damn thing out already, fuck” the man snapped.

His hands continued to shake as he carefully extracted the bullet, the man's hands white knuckling the bed sheets at every movement of the pliers. The bullet was small and slippery with blood and hard to get a good grasp on with the metal pliers. After nearly five entire minutes of trying he finally managed to remove the shard of metal tossing into the trash can nearby. Swiftly he grabbed a needle he had already threaded and made quick work of stitching the wound. Piercing the needle through either side of the wound, he pulled it closed then tied it off, cutting the excess thread, and repeating this process until the entire wound was sewn shut. Throughout he could feel the man tense up as the needle pierced his skin again and again, he'd let out a soft groan of pain, and his hands would grip at the fabric of y/n’s bed sheet tighter.

When y/n finally finished, having bandaged his wound tightly afterwards they sat in silence for a moment as the man composed himself. Taking a deep breath he opened his eyes and flashed y/n a eerie smile.

“Where the fuck did you learn how to do this? You a doctor kid?” he chuckled.

“Youtube tutorial” y/n whispered hesitantly.

“Yer fuckin kidding me” he laughed. Y/n sat on a stool besides his bed, right besides the deranged killer he realized now had no use for him. His breath hitched at the thought of what happened next. Now that he had helped the guy, was he going to kill him? His entire body tensed as he began thinking of all the things this guy might choose to do.

"oh don't tense up sweetheart I'm not gon kill ya, promise" He cooed flashing a toothy smile "you did what I told ya to after all"

“You’re that guy that was on the news a few years ago aren’t you?” his voice quivered as he spoke.

“Guilty!” he exclaimed “names Jeff by the way, if ya didn’t remember” Y/n hadn’t remembered, he’d spent the past hour or so trying his best to remember what his name had been to no avail. He’d seen the news segment years ago only briefly, he had been rushing out the door late to class when the news broke. He’d remembered feeling sick seeing the face of a man who’d murdered countless for nothing other than a little fun. He had known the moment he’d seen the man's face who he was, but the confirmation made it all the more real, all the more terrifying.

“Sooo, you mind if I stay the night?” Jeff asked ever so casually. “Ya see I’m on the run if you couldn’t tell, and I’m also injured so I need a place to crash for the night” He tilted his head flashing another tooth grin as he awaited a response.

All y/n could manage was a nod of his head, a sense of dread and defeat weighing heavy on him. His stomach already dropped to the floor, he felt foolish believing that maybe, just maybe if he helped this man he would have left. That maybe, he’d spare y/n’s life, be on his merry way to whatever cesspool he crawled out of and leave y/n to shiver beneath his blanket with his window locked up tight.

All y/n could manage was a defeated nod of his head, dropping down reluctantly as he contemplated what the hell he ever did to deserve this. Jeff smirked, sufficiently satisfied by the level of agony he had put y/n into. He slowly pulled himself up out of the bed, and motioned for y/n to take his place. Slowly and very reluctantly y/n got up out of his chair and laid on the bed.

“Good boy” Jeff said cheerfully, grabbing the fancy necktie y/n kept hanging over the edge of his headboard. “Put your hand together above ya head”

“Mhm yeah like that” he hummed, tightly knotting the fabric around y/n’s wrists and then the bars of his headboard. “That should hold ya nicely, yeah?” he gently patted y/n’s face before sliding underneath the covers next to him.

Y/n laid there motionless for what seemed like hours before Jeff had drifted off. He grimaced as the tight cloth binding his hands dug into his wrists. The serial killer pressed against his back had a hand fisted into the fabric of his shirt, most likely in an attempt to ensure he wouldn’t slip away unnoticed.

The stress of it all was enough to keep his eyes wide open the entire night. His mind raced from thought to thought, attempting to keep him sufficiently distracted from the rather precarious situation he found himself in. He cringed at the realization all the outside germs on his clothes were now on his freshly washed sheets, he'd have to change them tomorrow. Thinking of his outside clothes only amplified the feeling of them clinging to his skin, his shirt collar too far up his neck felt like it was choking him, the blue jeans he had regrettably put on were a size too small and dug into his hips, the stiffness of them making it even harder than it already was to get comfortable. Snippets of his day began to play in his mind, his ever boring English class with a professor who was far too old to still be teaching.

Professor Morris had just turned 82 and despite detailed instructions still didn't understand how to navigate the school system. All his assignments had to be done on paper which either meant a whole lot of hand cramping or being forced to use the crappy printers at the school library.

Only when Jeff began to shift behind him did y/n snap out of his thoughts. Forcibly reminded he had larger issues at hand than printing his essay out at the school library, he thought of freeing himself. Making a run for it, getting the hell out of the apartment and calling the cops. He wouldn't though. The thought of being caught in the act of escape was far too scary, why risk it. He might actually have a chance of survival if he just lays there and accepts his fate.

It wasn't long before he began to feel sleep calling to him, even the uncomfortable tightness of jeans and a shirt collar attempting to choke the life out of him couldn't stop his eyelids from slowly shutting. His eye fluttered open and slowly through the curtains he could see the faint golden glow of sunlight, morning at last he thought his eyelids grew heavier as the soft glow gently poured into the room

Jolting upright yn awoke, heart pounding and drenched in sweat. Dizziness and nausea hit immediately as he pulled himself out of bed and rushed into the open bathroom. Hunched over the cold porcelain he began dry heaving, core aching with every retch. Throat on fire, his head began to pound with the violence of a jackhammer, sweat dripped down his forehead into his teary eyes. He laid motionless still hunched over the toilet, the delirium wearing off as he suddenly realized he was no longer bound to the bed.

He abruptly sat up scanning his bedroom through the open door, Jeff was nowhere in sight. A wave of relief washed over him, standing he slowly began surveying the rest of the apartment. He checked the living room, the attached ‘kitchen’, and even the small hall closet he knew would have been far too small to conceal a person let alone one of Jeff's stature. Sinking to the floor he let out a long shaky breath, terrified, yet relieved, and most importantly alive.

Chapter Text

The hallway was barely illuminated by the soft glow of sunshine coming from the living room window. Everything on the outside was as it should be, muffled noises of his neighbors going about their day, cars driving by, and the soft sound of the wind rustling through trees. And for the moment y/n felt as though the night prior was just some horrific hallucination he’d conjured up in his sleep. He sat on the floor for what felt like hours, silently taking it all in. After much self-persuasion he stood and headed back to his bedroom ready to face it all head on. The large pool of dried up blood on his bedroom floor and blood stained bedsheets were enough to confirm the previous night's events.

His head felt fuzzy as he contemplated his next course of action. The obvious move was to call the police, but last he remembered his cell phone had been pocketed by the freak who broke in. He searched the bedroom hoping that when Jeff had left the night before he’d been so kind as to let y/n keep his phone. He tore everything off the bed as he sifted through the bloodied bedsheets and stained pillows, getting onto his knees he looked underneath the bed then under the night stand. And there he found it, underneath the night stand laid his flip phone. The small screen on the front was cracked as if it had been tossed to the floor carelessly. He quickly flipped it open and dialed 911, his hands shaking as a responder picked up.

He stood outside his apartment as he awaited the arrival of the police, stomach churning, hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. They arrived nearly an hour after the initial call. The police car pulled into the apartment parking lot and two officers stepped out. The driver, a rather stout man with a stern look and thick mustache, and his partner, a spindly blonde woman who looked like she’d rather be anywhere else. They sauntered up to y/n looking rather unamused.

“Are you the one who called us?” The spindly woman asked. Y/n shook his head nervously as he guided them to his door. “I’m officer Lawrence this is my partner officer Dullard”

“Can ya walk us though what happened” Officer Dullard spoke.

“Ah, yeah. .uhm come in” Y/n motioned to his open front door.
The officers listened to his brief recounting of the night prior with a look of mild annoyance, that was until they saw the blood soaked carpet in his bedroom. Their expressions quickly turned to that of irritation, they had probably hoped this was just a simple case of breaking and entering and that after a bit of questioning they could leave. But at the sight of blood and a whole lot of it and the added claim of the man breaking in being an escaped serial killer they realized this would be a whole lot more than just questioning. They inspected the room a bit more before splitting up, Officer Lawrence and Y/n headed to his living room to continue questioning as Officer Dullard called on his radio for backup. He then exited presumably to question other residents. Making his way door to door, he asked if anyone had seen or heard anything. Most of y/n’s neighbors hastily answered then shut their doors, a lot of his neighbors were rather sketchy people themselves and unwilling to speak to police.

No one had seen anything, except Mrs. Fitzpatrick. She was a sweet elderly woman who lived in the apartment directly above y/n. She hadn’t exactly seen anything but readily offered the footage from a cheap security camera she’d had her grandson set up by her back window. It was positioned facing the woods behind the apartment complex with clear sight of the path to y/n’s bedroom window.

The footage was grainy, but there he was approximately thirty minutes before y/n had gotten home Jeff could be seen stumbling towards the back wall and presumably through y/n’s window. The police were able to verify his identity despite the grainy footage, the identifiable white hood he’d last been seen wearing now soaked in a dark liquid from where he’d been shot by an officer.

After that the police visit was uneventful, they looked around, took stuff as evidence, attempted to question other residents but in the end said there was nothing that could really be done. There were already teams searching for Jeff and they’d be informed of this but nothing else could be done at the moment. So they left. Leaving y/n alone to clean his bloodied apartment floor on his own while he feared for his life.

Scrubbing blood out of his apartment's cheap carpeting was certainly not how he envisioned himself spending his Saturday. After the long week he’d just endured, y/n had been dreaming of how he’d spend the weekend relaxing, perhaps he’d sleep the entire time or maybe even go out with friends. But no he’d be spending it stressed out of his mind hunched over the floor of his bedroom scraping blood out of carpet. The smell was abhorrent, wafting throughout the room leaving behind a thick scent of iron and rust. The scraping truly was the worst part, the blood had seeped into the carpet fibers and dried overnight leaving clots of blood he had to scrape out by hand before trying to remove the stain it left behind. After nearly two hours of scraping, spraying water, blotting, repeat the stain was nearly gone. Nearly, the worst of it was over but a brownish hue lingered and a smell of iron still hung heavy in the air. His bedsheets had been taken as evidence along with his pillowcases leaving his mattress bare.

His weekend was then spent nervously checking and rechecking every lock, ensuring the window was locked tight and the doors deadbolted. The weekend passed uneventfully, then an entire week, then another, and without realizing two months came and went. Winter had come in full force, heavy snow and freezing nights. It was nearly winter break, meaning no classes for the rest of the month and he had taken the first week of break off from work, something he knew he’d regret. An entire week off not making any money was a gloriously stupid decision for someone who lives paycheck to paycheck. He was lucky his father felt guilty enough to pay for his college classes but that was it. He had been planning this week off for months though, saving every extra dollar left after paying expenses and limiting unnecessary purchases. His plan for the week was to spend it balled up in bed either sleeping or watching TV, nothing special or exciting and most importantly nothing that cost money.

The beginning of his week off started on the last Friday of the semester. A freezing gust of wind nearly swept him off his feet as he stepped out of the English department. His cheap winter coat did very little to shield him from the piercing cold. Shoving his hands into his coat pocket he all but ran to the math building to his next class, Intro to Statistics. His least favorite class of the semester, it hadn’t been particularly difficult or anything but the people in his class were absurdly dense and the professor loved group work. However, working with stupid people wasn’t exactly his forte. He’d been looking forward to this day the most, the last time he’d have to sit in this classroom with a bunch or morons who somehow were making their way through college. So for the next two hours he sat in his uncomfortable plastic chair and took his test, leg bouncing in anticipation for when it’d be over.

If it wasn’t for the frequent shuffling of people and the loud phone call taking place at the back of the bus y/n was certain he’d have slept the whole way home. He struggled to keep his eyes open and at some point had given in for a moment only jolting awake to the feeling of someone sitting besides him. An exasperated sigh left him as he realized he’d missed his stop and would have to walk even further to make it home. He got off two stops past his own and began the absolutely horrid walk home. To his dismay the wind had picked up and it had begun to rain. It only took two minutes of walking before he decided to just run for it, by the time he made it home it had grown dark out, his shoes were soaked as was he and he was just about ready to collapse into bed and sleep for the rest of his life. Trudging towards his bathroom he peeled his clothes off and slipped into the shower. The water was warm and inviting and he felt he could stay in there forever but after nearly dozing off and dying via slipping in the shower he shut the water off and stepped out. Hurriedly he dressed himself and collapsed into bed falling asleep nearly instantly.

Y/n jolted awake, and to his horror realized his hands were bound. To the left of him lay Jeff, on his bed eating his leftovers and wearing his T-shirt. A T-shirt that fit y/n loosely clung tightly to every curve of Jeff's torso and the bulge of his biceps.

“Finally awake huh?” Jeff asked causally

“What the fuck” Y/n could feel his eyes begin to water, this was what he’d been dreading since his first encounter with Jeff. How did he even get in? Y/n knew for a fact he’d locked every door and window in his cramped apartment so how?

“Awww, don’t cry I’m not gon hurt ya” He grinned and placed the now empty tupperware onto the nightstand.

“Why- what do you want from me? How did you even get in? I locked everything I know I did” He said his voice wavering.

“Ya know I kinda missed ya, you’re real annoyin but I like you and. . .well I also kinda need a place to stay for awhile” he chatted “as for how I got in, those windows are just so easy to force open”

“Easy to. . .” y/n trailed off, for weeks he’d been checking every lock obsessively and for what? The entire time Jeff could just force the windows open, like it wasn’t even an issue.

“Anyways, I was just thinkin I could stay here for the week.” Y/n zoned out the second the thought of spending an entire week with this psycho hit, he’d never felt more defeated than now. He’d been looking forward to this week off, stress free relaxation but now he’d have to spend it with this absolute freak.

“I’m gonna kill myself” he murrmured

“Really now?” he smirked “maybe not the best thing to say to a serial killer hun”

“Why, why me?” Y/n couldn’t be more exasperated, it seemed this man had no intentions of killing him or even hurting him, but what could he possibly want.

“Like I said darlin I like you, and plus I’ve already been here so this is the last place police will look for me, ya know cause it’d be a dumb move to come back to a crime scene ”

Y/n just stared at him for a moment unsure of what to do or even say. Maybe he really did just need a place to stay for awhile but why keep him alive? Jeff was known for showing no mercy towards his victims, not a single soul escaped alive. He’d brutally murdered each and every person he set his sights on. Many of his murders had been described as murders of passion due to how he’d ruthlessly stab the life out of his victims in such a manner it could only be the work of someone with a personal grudge.

An uncomfortable silence had filled the room, still unsure of what to do or say he thought for a moment.

“Why keep me alive-” he grimaced regretting it the second it slipped from his mouth.

“Do you want me to kill you?” He joked "I'm starting to think you want me to”

“NO! no- I don’t want that. . it’s just you’ve never. . ” he hesitated “wouldn't it be like. .easier if you just killed me?”

“So you do want me to kill you” he laughed

“NO! Oh my god no, i’m just trying to understand what your. .deal is”

“Like I've said, I like you.” something something “Although, you are right. I guess it would be easier to just kill you. . .”

Y/n felt his heart sink, did he really just talk this guy into killing him.

“. . .ah but I don’t wanna” he smiled

Y/n couldn’t help but wonder why, though he wasn’t going to be dumb and try asking again. Why would such a merciless serial killer not want to kill him? What could his intentions possibly be? His mind began to wander further down a rabbit hole, why did Jeff even kill to begin with? What did he go through to become so cruel? What kind of person even raised him? After a moment y/n spoke again.

“So. . .Why did you-” y/n asked

“Why did I ?” He questioned a smirk playing on his lips.

“Kill all those people. .”

“For fun I guess, loved the thrill it gave me” He chuckled

“You murdered people- people with families and lives. . for the fun of it?” He could barely contain his anger.

“What? What the fuck did ya expect me to say?” he scoffed “oh, I killed all those people because I was abused as a child, my parents didn’t love me and my father beat me and my brother half to death for just existing” He mocked

They sat in silence for a while before y/n found the courage to speak again.

“did your father really-” he hesitated

“Yeah” jeff scoffed again “fucking bastard decided to have kids only to hate that his wife paid more attention to them” Jeff’s face bore a look of resentment as he brought up his mother “And that fuckin bitch of a mother decided it’d be easier to just neglect us rather than divorce her dirtbag husband when he started beatin on her aswell”

“I’m. . .sorry” It came out more like a question, he hadn’t known what to say. The conversation had gotten uncomfortable, y/n hadn’t expected Jeff to actually talk about something so personal.

“Oh, no need to feel sorry for me doll” he laughed “I gutted those worthless sacks of shit, been chasin that high since”

That awkward silence returned and this time y/n had nothing to say. Soon after Jeff turned to shut the lights off, the rest of the night was spent in silence.

Chapter Text

Sunlight peaked in through the half opened blinds landing directly in y/n’s eyes, as he woke from his unrestful sleep a soft aching filled his body. His neck was stiff, arms and hands numb from the awkward sleeping position forced upon him. Shifting in an attempt to regain feeling he felt a large hand grip his shoulder, causing him to freeze.

“Tryna escape are we?” Jeff chuckled from behind him.

“No, no I was just-” y/n sighed “. . actually I need to uhm, use the bathroom”

“Really now?” Jeff quirked a brow “you’re not gonna try and use this as a chance to escape are ya kid?”

“No I promise, I really need to-” He cut himself off mildly embarrassed.

“Alright then, better keep that promise kiddo” Jeff grinned as he sat up and leaned over y/n.

His hands were gentle as he untied the knots binding y/n to the bed, face hovering close, too close. The close proximity made his stomach flutter, looking to the side y/n attempted to avoid eye contact before speaking again.

“Why do you keep calling me kid?” Y/n questioned “you can’t be much older than me”

Jeff chuckled before looking directly at y/n “you’re what, twenty two? Twenty three?”

“Twenty three. .” y/n answered

“Yeah, thought so. I ain’t as young as you babe” he chuckled again, eyes refocusing on the knots.

Undoing the final knot Jeff sat back upright, y/n faltered a moment before bringing his arms down. Using them to assist he sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Turning his head he looked at Jeff, and for a moment, just a moment he thought about running for it, dodging Jeff’s grasp and throwing himself out the partially open window. He nearly gasped out loud as Jeff’s hands wrapped around his wrists, almost fearing Jeff had heard his thoughts. Gently Jeff began to knot the tie around y/n’s wrists once again before pulling him up off the bed.

“So, uh how old are you then?” y/n nervously asked, resuming the conversation.

“Twenty eight” Jeff answered, pulling him towards the bathroom.

For a moment y/n hesitated, shifting his wrists in an unconscious attempt to make himself more comfortable. Turning around Jeff cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Don’t even think about it” He sighed

“I wasn’t, I didn’t mean to” Y/n stuttered “sorry”

Making their way into the bathroom they stood awkwardly for a moment. Turning to face Jeff, y/n furrowed his brows uncomfortably.

Sighing, Jeff turned to face the door clearly exasperated as he muttered under his breath. Still uncomfortable, y/n stood still as he contemplated asking Jeff to leave.

“Can you just get on with it” Jeff huffed

“Can’t you leave just for a moment, this is so awkward” y/n asked uneasy

“I don’t know what the hell you keep in here. For all I know you’ve got a weapon or some shit stashed in the cabinets” He grumbled turning his head to look at y/n

Huffing his discontentment y/n turned to face the toilet.

The living room was still, only the sound of a cheesy horror movie playing softly filled the room. The tenseness in the air was stifling as they sat on either end of the couch. Jeff had sat them down in the living room to watch TV after the bathroom and they hadn’t talked or done much of anything for the past three hours. Jeff’s gaze was focused on the TV screen, seemingly entertained by the movie playing.

“You need somethin doll?” Jeff asked, halfheartedly turning his head towards y/n, his eyes lingering on the TV before following suit.

Y/n quickly turned his attention to the screen with a sigh. He had been staring at Jeff for the past half hour, unable to look away, mind running wild with thoughts of escape, and Jeff.

“Oh, so now you wanna try and pretend you haven’t been starin at me for half n’ hour?” He cocked an eyebrow and scoffed. Rolling his eyes he turned his attention back towards the TV.

“I’m hungry” Y/n mumbled

“What’d ya say darlin?” Jeff spoke, turning to face him again.

“I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning-” Y/n huffed “I’m hungry”

‘Well why didn’t ya just say that” Jeff hummed, reaching over he placed a hand to y/n’s cheek. His thumb gently stroked y/n’s cheek, before he stood and pulled y/n to his feet. Leading y/n towards the kitchen area by the tie around his hands.

“How about, I cook up a little something for ya then?” Jeff smiled, looking over his shoulder. “Would you like that?”

Y/n responded with a shrug as he leaned against the small dining table, he was in a bad mood. As anyone would be in a situation like this, except for a different reason. He’d been cycling through the usual emotions, fear, anger, frustration, regret, but confusingly he’d found himself drawn to Jeff. Strangely attracted to him, he felt repulsed by the idea and had been tearing himself up on the inside for the past hour. He found himself stuck in a cycle of being inexplicably attracted to Jeff’s allure, then feeling the crushing weight of shame and disgust.

Jeff by no means was conventionally attractive, yet he was strangely beautiful in y/n’s eyes. His face long, eyes deep set, long dark lashes contrasting his sickly pale skin. His nose curved down to plump pink lips and the gruesome scars on either corner did little to hinder his beauty in y/n’s perspective, somehow making him only more interesting and captivating. Long dark waves poured down his face and crashed into his broad shoulders, he was a large and tall man, well over six foot. He was strong looking, but not in the way achieved through intentionality and working out in a gym. He was built for survival, the kind of body only achieved out of necessity, through fights and physical labor.

Y/n couldn’t help but want to know more about him, about his life, his backstory. Not the curated version told on the news or vague ramblings about his childhood. He wanted to know every detail, every gruesome story, what horrors he faced growing up that led to him becoming such a violent, ruthless person.

Pulling y/n around the table Jeff motioned for him to sit on the counter top by the stove.

“Be a good boy and stay put, alright? He purred “you can do that right?”

Y/n’s stomach twisted and turned as he shook his head and hopped onto the counter top. He felt his entire body go hot at Jeff’s wording.

Jeff began by opening the nearly empty fridge, only a few items remained after nearly an entire month of no grocery shopping. All that remained was half a stick of butter, an open container of yogurt, and chopped onions he had been using for sandwiches the past week before the bread and turkey ran out. Grimacing at the sight y/n felt embarrassed by the state of his fridge and more so the rest of his kitchen. Raising his brows Jeff turned to look at y/n. Continuing his search for ingredients Jeff began rummaging through the cupboards, finding a stray can of diced tomatoes y/n had no idea he still had. Seemingly getting an idea Jeff grabbed the can, as well as the butter and onion from the fridge, along with the few spices y/n owned. Tossing all the ingredients in a stray pot along with a cup of water Jeff began as y/n watched carefully. Time passed by quickly in a comfortable silence as Jeff stirred and added more salt and spices to the mixture. Occasionally stopping to test the flavor. (and yes I did google tomato soup recipes)

Before he knew it y/n was being led to the small dining table as a bowl of tomato soup was placed before him.

“Used to make this all the time as a kid for me n’ my brother.” Jeff spoke, breaking the silence. He bore a look of nostalgia, with a twinge of sadness before turning his attention back to y/n. He smirked and shifted in his seat, lifting the spoon he guided it towards y/n’s mouth.

“Oh, I can feed myself” Y/n stammered.

“I know” He cooed, waving the spoon in front of y/n’s face.

Jeff was sat on the opposite side of the small table, his elbows propping him up. He leaned in expectantly. After a moment of hesitation y/n conceded and leaned over mouth open. Jeff’s smirk widened as he guided the spoon in. Being spoon-fed at his age was embarrassing, especially by another man and his face had begun to burn with humiliation. The absurdity of the situation nearly overshadowed the taste, surprisingly it was good. Perhaps he was just starving both literally and emotionally, but the warmth of home cooked soup and the carefully added spices were almost enough to make him tear up. He hadn’t had the pleasure of a home cooked meal in years, and as if his feelings towards Jeff weren’t already twisted and confusing he felt a pang of affection. He hadn’t pinned Jeff as the type to cook, and especially hadn't thought he’d be any good at it.

“Good right?” Jeff purred, holding intense eye contact. A fluttering feeling once again taking over y/n’s abdomen.

He felt his heart rate rapidly increase. The situation had gone from weird to just down right absurd. Imprisoned in his own apartment by an on the run serial killer, who was now spoon feeding him food he had cooked. And the strangest part was he was somewhat enjoying it, shame flooded his system as he nodded his head, cheeks burning, palms sweating.

Returning to the couch the rest of the day was to be spent the same way it had started, sitting in the dark watching trashy TV shows and movies. Feelings of shame swirled around his stomach as he attempted to focus on anything besides Jeff. His strange attraction was consuming him slowly as he fought hard to keep the thoughts of Jeff at bay. Why was he being so gentle, so affectionate? Why go through the trouble of keeping him alive, cooking for him, feeding him? He felt embarrassment creep up his spine, it had taken less than a day and the vaguest affectionate action to leave him so flustered. Was he really this touch starved?

Y/n’s thoughts were interrupted by Jeff suddenly speaking,

“Bit cold in here, yeah?” he said, glancing in y/n’s direction. A devious look on his face.

“I guess so, yeah” y/n responded, his heart hammering out of his chest. Once again fearing Jeff had heard his thoughts somehow.

“There’s blankets in the hall closet” y/n followed up.

“Yeah?” Jeff smiled, getting up to retrieve one.

Sitting back down he spread the blanket out over himself before patting the cushion closest to him. Tilting his head y/n looked at Jeff and furrowed his brows in confusion.

“Come on, I don’t wanna let you freeze over there by yourself.” He smirked, continuing to motion for y/n to sit closer.

Shuffling closer y/n left nearly a foot between the two unsure of how close he wanted them to be. Sending a pointed look his way Jeff pulled him closer, shoulder to shoulder, thighs pressed firmly together. His heart sped once again and his entire body burned with the sensation of Jeff’s body pressed to his. Draping his arm over y/n’s shoulder he laid the blanket over top of them.

“Better right?” Jeff leaned over, whispering in his ear.

“YEAh” y/n exclaimed, his heart nearly bursting out. “yeah”

Jeff bit his cheek suppressing a smile, and focused his attention back on whatever trash reality TV show was playing. Y/n’s mind didn’t go quiet once as he sat as still as possible, mind running wild with inappropriately lewd thoughts and the shame of it all.

Without realizing y/n had slipped off into sleep, only to awake a few hours later in bed. He felt burning hot in the dark of his room, hands still bound yet not to the bed frame, rather something else, someone else. Lifting his hands he realized they were tethered to the arms wrapped firmly around his waist. Once again the thought of escape crossed his mind, but it was far too risky, Jeff would wake up if he felt y/n slip out of his arms. And strangely he almost felt like he didn’t want to leave, something was comforting about the touch of another human, the warmth of someone else pressed up against him, holding him in such an intimate way.