"A date?" SpongeBob's eyes were wide as he watched his friend prepare himself. "Yeah. Mindy and me are going dancing," Patrick couldn't hide the glee in his voice, couldn't deny the flush of joy on his rosy cheeks. "Oh. S-sounds fun," SpongeBob looked down, kicking his feet slightly. "Is something wrong?" The starfish asked, not truly caring one way or the other. Or . . . well, Patrick did care about the sponge. He just couldn't concentrate on caring right at this moment. The yellow boy forced a smile. "Oh no! Nothing at all. I just thought I was staying the night tonight, that's all." "Oh." Patrick paused in tying his tie (wearing a tie despite the fact that he still wasn't wearing a shirt), eyes growing large. "Oh crap! I'm sorry, Sponge, I totally forgot." "It's okay," Another forced smile, with a bit of a giggle thrown in. "A date with Mindy is more important anyway." "Yeah," Pat agreed. SpongeBob fought the urge to tell his friend that the mermaid was only dating Patrick as a complicated means of defying her father. But of course SpongeBob couldn't say something like that. Not to his best friend. So instead, he continued to smile, face burning at the pain of holding that same position. "I hope you two have fun tonight." "Oh, we will," Patrick chuckled. "I'm bringing plenty of rubbers." "Huh?" "Um, never mind. Hey, why don't you go hang out with Squidward or something. That outta keep you happy, right?" Gay guys tended to like Squidward, didn't they? Patrick sure didn't know. He wasn't gay. Maybe a little bicurious . . . he shook his head, trying to rid his himself of such thoughts.

"Yeah . . . yeah, you're right! I should go see Squidward," SpongeBob smiled to himself. He hadn't seen the octopus in a few days. What was that friend of his up to? "Great!" Patrick grinned, "Now I gotta put on some cologne. Chicks dig a guy that smells good, you know?" As if the sea star was any expert when it came to the ladies, being just as much a virgin as SpongeBob. Except he was a heterosexual (with homosexual tendencies) virgin. And SpongeBob was a fucking faggot. But he was Patrick's fucking faggot. Best friends forever and all that. And his best friend had a major crush on their bitter neighbor. So of course, Pat wanted to help the two out in whatever way he could. What else were friends for? "Alright," SpongeBob smiled. Always smiling, ever kind. "She'll love you." "You really think?" "I know!" SpongeBob hugged the starfish, snuggling against the soft chest of his friend. "How could someone not love you, Pat?" "Uhhhhh . . . dunno. It would be impossible." "Exactly, Pat, exactly! Now I'm gonna go hang out with Squidward. You and Mindy have fun tonight, kay?" "You and Squidward have fun, too." Patrick's mind flooded with various images of SpongeBob and Squidward having various sorts of fun, in various positions, all night long (variously). He blushed, squirming in his fancy clothing. "Um . . . b-bye, okay?" "Alright. Bye!" SpongeBob exited the rock, skipping over to the Easter Island head that was Squidward's home. Oh, he and Squidward would be having fun, alright. Lots and lots of fun. More fun than SpongeBob would be able to handle.

Knock Knock. "Squidward, Squuuuidwaard!" The young Sponge yelled as he smiled brightly. "One second." A calm voice yelled back. The door slowly opened. "Squidward, I know you didn't want me over but-" "Come in." The blue Squid spoke quietly. "Uh...What?" "I said, come in." Voice still calm, no hint of any other emotion, perfectly disguised. "Okay..." Spongebob muttered as he looked suspiciously at his neighbor, typically by now the door was slammed in his face. "Why don't you take a seat..." The other spoke, keeping his voice calm and normal as he silently locked his door, he smiled proudly to himself. "Thank you!" All suspicion thrown away, Squidward being kind to him was something he'd never had happened before, he looked at the room, "Hey Squiddy, why are all your portraits knocked down." The blue man looked up, not expecting such questions. "Uh...I'm preparing for more art." He spoke slowly to keep any hints of his true intentions out of his voice, he had to be careful as possible. "Spongebob, have you ever been hurt? Attacked? Or anything similar?" Squidward asked as he made sure his voice sounded nonchalant. "Well...Once Patrick punched me, but it was just because I asked him to have a fake fight with me and I don't think he really understood what I meant." Spongebob laughed nervously at the memory.

Squidward sighed, "I mean, have you ever been attacked without planning it first?" "No..." "Well, I can change that." The blue man smiled sweetly as he calmly grabbed some rope he had on the ground, not noticed by the Sponge until now. "W-What do you mean?" Blue eyes looked up in confusion. "You'll find out in a moment..." "I-I don't think I want to...I can j-just leave now, I can tell you don't want company..." Stuttering, shaking, slowly speaking, fear, finally the younger male was understanding what was happening, what was going to happen. And nothing could change it. "You're not going anywhere..." He reached down to grab a needle, that was also randomly on the ground. "Good night, Spongebob." He spoke as he quickly and tightly gripped on the yellow sponge's arm and punctured it with the sharp needle. "Ow!" Spongebob yelled, eyes watered as a reaction. "Why did you do that! I-I want...To...Go...Home..." Eyes slowly closed as the boy slumped over, breath slowed dramatically. "Enjoy your sleep." Squidward muttered as he started to tie the boy up. "Last peaceful moment you'll have.

Spongebob couldn't tell if he had woken up or not, sure he felt awake, but this couldn't possibly be real, this was his fantasy, his dream, but not his reality. Once the blue squid finally moved his lips from the other, Spongebob finally decided to speak. "S-Squidward...W-whats going on?" Ice blue eyes looked up in confusion. "..." Squidward paused, he had planned to be sweet and kind for only a little bit, and he had figured that all out, he just never thought of what he would say, oh well, maybe sometimes silence was the best answer. He smiled a fake kind smile and pressed his lips against the others again, this time harder, slowly and carefully switching from kind to mean. "Squidward..." The yellow boy muttered as he looked up at the boy in shy shock. "Why are you doing this?" He asked innocently. The game was up, thats what he decided, time for the real motives to show. "You said you've never been hurt, in anyway besides being overly sensitive or by accident, right?" He asked calmly as he moved over to a dresser opening it and looking through it. "Uh..." Spongebob looked down in thought. "R-Right..." "Lets change that then, shall we?" He asked, of course it wasn't a question, even someone as ignorant as Spongebob could tell that. "W-What!" Blue eyes shot up at the squid. "To put it bluntly." He paused to make his hands visible, which showed a knife and more rope. "I am going to hurt you."

Slowly he started to walk toward the boy. "Why?" The sponge asked urgently. "W...What did I do wrong?" "Nothing specific..." Squidward spoke nonchalantly as he walked closer. "Then wh-Ow!" It happened, it finally happened, the first cut was made. Right on the cheek to be specific. "Squidward!" He yelled, eyes watering automatically, body trying to move backwards in defense. "Be quiet." The squid muttered, eyes seemed to glaze over in concentration as he pressed the knife against a stick thin yellow wrist, quickly and swiftly gliding it from one side to another. A sharp gasp was the reply. A few more stabs imprinted on the sponge before finally Squidward dropped the knife. Spongebob looked up in hope, maybe just maybe it was over, more hope etched on his face as Squidward pulled the rope off him. "We're not done." The blue squid muttered as if reading the smaller boys thoughts, he roughly grabbed the yellow sponge and pushed him roughly unto a chair, quickly tying his arms to the chairs arm rests. "Not even close." And with that he walked back over to the dresser. The game to realism was about to begin.

After that Patrick went out the door saying a happy even mischivious goodbye to spongebob who was still standing in the middle of the room with a blank look on his face. Patrick knew that spongebob was into him and somewhat enjoyed the fact that he was jelious. As he walked to the boat he shock of the wierd incounter telling himself that tonight is important and hes got to make a good impression. Meanwhile, anger began to swell up in spongebob, who for to long had simple let things slide. A storm began to grow in his mind about if he would simple go home or think of something to do. At first, he though told himself i hope he has fun, but as he went to the door a voice grew inside of him screaming NO... In his mind he could already see himself being pushed out of Patrick's life and he didn't do or think of something this would happen.

They say actions speak louder than words. But Squidward wasn't one to just take an expression such as that as fact. He wanted to find out exactly how true it was. Had to test the theory. Even now, fully immersed in his task, no longer using the tactic of false kindness, he had to test it. Actions verses words. But how best to test his hypothesis? "SpongeBob," He began slowly, looking at the trapped and bleeding sponge. SpongeBob sniffled, arms twitching in the ropes. His wrist throbbed painfully, the cut just deep enough to hurt immensely, to allow blood to leak, but not deep enough to kill. No, none of the earlier cuts were fatal. Not even close. "Did you hear me?" Squidward said coldly, grabbing SpongeBob's face and jerking it up, forcing eye contact. "Y-yes . . ." SpongeBob quivered. "I-I . . . I heard you, Squidward." "Then fucking ANSWER me, you faggot!" A simple slap to the face, warm tentacles stinging against gashed cheek. SpongeBob cried out, the intensity of the pain in his cut increasing as suctioncups collided with him. "I-I'm sorry!" Squidward sighed, dropping his hold on the sponge. "It's alright. You don't know any better yet." He turned his face away, still aware of the gaze burning into the back of his head. Big blue eyes scared and confused, their largeness only intensifying Squidward's desire to crush him. "I love you, SpongeBob." A silent pause, the sponge breathing heavily. "W-what . . .? What did you say, Squidward?" Squidward turned around, smirking wickedly. "I said I loved you." "Love . . .?" He didn't have time to contemplate this, as Squidward swung his arm forward, fist colliding with SpongeBob's nose. The blood flowed soon after, hot red seepage not nearly as smooth as one would expect blood to be. Nor was it red. Almost black in its thickness. It leaked into the sponge's open mouth, lips parted as he sobbed.

"I love you," Squidward said again, punching the seated sponge in the stomach. SpongeBob cried out, blood shooting from his nose as he did so, splattering the octopus on the face. Not that Squidward minded. A little mess was acceptable in this situation. Actions or words? Which would SpongeBob believe? The verbal love or the physical pain? The yellow boy panted and moaned in agony, leaning forward as best he could in his chair, shoulders shaking with sobs. "I-if . . . if you love me, then why are you hurting me?" Squidward smiled, yanking the sponge upright, sitting straight in the chair. "Don't you love me too, SpongeBob?" He asked, voice eerily calm, face upbeat even with droplets of the younger boy's blood dotting it, harsh scarlet against unfeeling blue. His face darkened a bit when the sponge failed to reply. "I SAID, don't you love me tâEU"" "Yes," SpongeBob whimpered, throat dry, clenched tight. "Yes . . . I-I do. I love you so much, Squidward." His eyes rose slowly. "That's why . . . why this doesn't m-make any sense." So maybe actions were louder. Maybe SpongeBob would be easier to break than Squidward had realized. He let the sponge's body slump over again. "I don't love you, SpongeBob." No need to continue that lie. What was the use? "Then . . . then w-why do you hate me?" SpongeBob could feel his heart throb in each of his wounds-in the wrist that still bled, in the nose that flowed, in each tiny cut . . . heart throbbing and aching and breaking by the second. "I don't hate you, either." If anything, that sentence scared SpongeBob even more. "But i-if you don't hate me, then . . . then why are you . . . why are you"

"Maybe I'm just bored," Squidward was barely paying attention to his answer, analyzing SpongeBob's body hungrily. "Maybe I just wanted to spend some time with you. Maybe . . ." He chuckled, unblinking gaze moving down, between the sponge's legs, "Maybe I'm horny." He shrugged. "Or maybe I don't owe you any explanations at all." "But . . . anG!" SpongeBob hadn't expected Squidward to come back towards him. He also hadn't expected any physical contact, other than more hitting, more cutting. He hadn't expected the octopus to reach between his legs, gripping at SpongeBob's crotch almost cautiously, almost tenderly. Almost lovingly. SpongeBob yelped, unable to pull away due to the restraints. "Relax, SpongeBob. I thought you said you loved me," Squidward was practically purring as he got down on his hands and knees, unbuttoning SpongeBob's square pants with ease. "I . . . I . . ." He couldn't responded, no words available for this sort of situation. True, he loved Squidward. But . . .

"P-please don't touch me there, Squidward. Please . . .?" He shuddered as his neighbor fingered the front of his underwear. Squidward, of course, didn't obey the bleeding, crying sponge, letting his hand trail into the young male's underwear, grabbing his cock smoothly. "Feels good, hmm?" SpongeBob gasped, face flushing red. The pain in his wrist and nose seemed to ebb away as his coworker stroked him, taking his time with each touch. "Y-yes," SpongeBob whispered, biting his bottom lip to keep from moaning. "Yes . . .i-it . . . it feels wrong, but . . . but . . ." "You like it, don't you?" SpongeBob groaned softly, Squidward's hand moving more insistently now, clammy suction cups against the sponge's swollen length nearly throwing the yellow boy over the edge completely. "Y-yes," SpongeBob nodded, breath hitching. "I . . . I like it . . ." Squidward chuckled. "Good." He continued his movements, smoothly using his other hand to unsheathe yet another knife, blade small, serrated, sharpened. "I'm glad you're enjoying this," He worked his hand faster than, the hand holding the dagger tightening a bit as he spoke his next words. "If you cum, I'm cutting your cock off."

A face turned in confused pleasure quickly turned into a face of just plain confusion "W-What?" Yellow sponge gasped, not like he ever heard the term 'cock' before, but he figured it had to do with the body part Squidward was messing with. "You heard me, I spoke clearly." Turquoise eyelids lowered in concentration. Cue long pause. "But...But why? What did I do? If its because I annoy you really I can just leave!" A small chuckle, "You did nothing, nothing you could have controlled rather, and why? Well, in a bit you won't be thinking of why I'm doing it anyway so there really is no point in telling you." Silence, pure silence once the words escape the squids mouth. Slow hand movement, thrusting up and down tenderly, slowly he gained momentum. Spongebob shifted slightly and moaned, having no idea how to stop this from happening. "P-Please Squidward! Don't...Please don't hurt me." Whispered words between gasps and moans. A small chuckle was all he received as an answer. Continually thrusting, finally the squid smirked before he rubbed his tentacle gently a few times over the head of Spongebob's man(boy?)hood. The boy thrusted up slightly, being he was tied to a chair, and moaned loudly before falling back down. "Oh, games over already?" Small black eyebrow raised up in curiosity. A whimper was his only reply. "Ah well, I guess its time then."

Voice spoken calmly, a tinge of something else in it though. "P-Please don't do-" Cut off shortly but a piercing pain, one he had never felt before in his life. The knife cut slowly, painfully slowly, blood gushed out foreignly, splattering on Squidwards hands. A sharp gasp was all that could manage to come from the sponge's lips, face turned pale as his eyes rolled back, body limp. "You're still breathing." The blue squid muttered as he walked to the kitchen to grab a cloth, slowly he walked back toward the fragile sponge and quickly put it on as a tourniquet. "Hm, if you didn't like that then you're certainly not going to like what comes next." He mumbled, brown eyes glazed over slightly as if in a daze. He quickly stood back up and made sure his neighbor was securely tied up, he also made sure all the doors and windows were locked. He exited the room the sponge was in before quickly locking it from the outside, he walked over toward the bathroom. "I might as well get clean." He sighed before smirking at himself in the mirror. "Well, you finally took that first step Squiddy, now, you can finally break the sponge, then and only then will you be able to fix him." He chuckled. "This will be fun..." He whispered before turning the water on.

The water caressed Squidward's body with the intimacy of a long lost lover, curving down every inch of his pale aqua skin. He shuddered, a soft moan escaping his lips, though his arousal had little to do with the shower and more to do with the deed he'd just committed. The game was officially started now. No, more than started. He had a very good lead so far. Funny how he had to continually remind himself of that fact. He hadn't anticipated the rush that would follow dismembering SpongeBob like that. That feeling of the knife slipping into trepid yellow skin, breaking the surface with a soft squish. Orgasmic. Absolutely orgasmic. Squidward chuckled, wrapping a bloody tentacle around his own cock now, stroking in time to his laughter. That look on SpongeBob's face right before he'd sliced, too. Priceless. He'd known he'd enjoy this, but he hadn't expected it to turn him on quite as much as it had. He pulled his hand off his cock, hastily turning off the faucet and stepping out of the tub, wrapping the towel around his waist without bothering to dry himself. He was much too insane to sexually satisfy himself. No, SpongeBob would work perfectly well in this situation. Squidward licked his lips, stinging his tongue with the taste of shower water and dried blood. Huh, guess he hadn't washed himself too well after all. Ah well, it would be a reminder. Not that he needed any more reminding.

He stepped out of the bathroom, reaching for the door separating him from his reality project. SpongeBob couldn't black out. Couldn't pass out. Couldn't sleep, couldn't fade away, couldn't do anything. All he could do was cry. Shiver and cry and hurt. Oh god, did it hurt. He moaned, shoulders slumping forward as he sobbed, each tremble of his thighs bringing yet another jolt of pain. Pain. Squidward had hurt him. Really physically hurt him. Tears slid down flushed cheeks, SpongeBob barely able to comprehend this. Yes, he'd known deep down that he annoyed Squidward, but . . . but . . . He gasped for breath, sobbing harder than he'd realized. Squidward hated him. HATED him. That was almost as awful as the feeling that knife had brought him. No, that had hurt worse. Having body parts removed, flesh torn away, but . . . but . . . oh god, Squidward hated him. Squidward hated SpongeBob. And SpongeBob loved Squidward so much. Had always loved him. Adored and admired and idolized. How could this be happening? After all the love SpongeBob gave? Was his love not enough? The door creaked open, revealing the toweled Squidward. SpongeBob gasped softly, unable to stop crying, stop hurting, stop loving, even as Squidward stepped closer to him. "Awww, was I too rough on you?" Squidward cooed, voice unbelievably cruel, careful calmness eroded now. SpongeBob's eyes widened, flesh tingling the closer Squidward stepped. "What's wrong, SpongeBob? Don't you like what you see?" SpongeBob whimpered. "S-Squidward, I-I n-need to go to the hospital."

Squidward rolled his eyes. "Oh please, SpongeBob, I barely touched you." He reached out, stroking SpongeBob's face smoothly, suction cups grinding against the scabbed cut on his cheek, breaking the flesh open once more. Pus and blood dribbled down SpongeBob's jaw. "Trust me, darling, you'll be beyond the need for hospitals by the time I'm through with you." "W-What do you mean?" SpongeBob couldn't fight Squidward off as the octopus untied him, flipping him around before rebinding him. SpongeBob groaned, face pressed into the chair with his ass facing up, completely exposed for Squidward's pleasure. "You may no longer be a man, Sponge, but I think I'm still going to fuck you like one." Then, amending, "Well, fuck you like a bitch, anyway." He laughed once more. Cruelty was easier than calmness, although he truly felt no hatred towards the sponge. In fact, as far as Squidward was concerned, he was only doing this because he loved SpongeBob. Loved him enough to present him with the gift of reality.

"Well, that was a nice date," Mindy smiled, nuzzling against Patrick's arm. The starfish sighed, yanking his arm away from the mermaid. "Yeah, well, whatever, I guess." She batted her eyelashes, pouting her lips a bit. "Anything else you have planned for the night?" "Uhhh . . ." A bit of drool trailed down Patrick's chin, his eyes dull. "Nah. Going home." "Want me to walk yoâEU"" "I DON'T LIKE YOU!" He snapped, scowling. "Jeez, Mindy, back off already. I mean, you're hot and everything, but you're just so boring. All you talk about it "books" and "the theatre" and "ruling the sea". So what?" He turned away, heading towards his house, leaving a shocked and brokenhearted princess behind him. He'd rather talk to SpongeBob any day. . . . SpongeBob. The star paused in his walk, eyes widening a bit. SpongeBob. Now there was an interesting conversationist. And he was pretty cute to boot. Oh . . . oh Neptune, what was happening? Why were Patrick's pants suddenly feeling so incredibly tight? And why was his heart beating so fast? And why was he suddenly running home, eager to reinvite his best friend over for that sleepover he'd idiotically canceled? Did the whys really matter? He shivered a bit, going into his rock and tossing his date clothes off, rubbing a pink thumb against the head of his cock teasingly before redressing in his purple and green shorts. Did this look good enough? Neptune, why did he even care if he looked good enough? It was just SpongeBob.

The name sent shivers down Patrick's non-existent spine and yet another pump of blood to his painfully engorged cock. How had this happened, this sudden adoration for SpongeBob? SpongeBob . . . oh damn, another shudder, a pleasured moan. It tickled his lips, buzzed pleasantly through his mind. He didn't know how this happened, no, and honestly at this point it didn't matter. He needed to find SpongeBob. Now. Where was . . . oh, right! Squidward's house, duh. Patrick smiled, stepping out of his rock and approaching the Easter Island head that was his neighbor's home. If he didn't get his feelings out now, surely he'd go crazy.

SpongeBob hadn't realized it was possible to hurt any further than he already did, but he'd been wrong. Horribly wrong. He writhed, screaming as Squidward shoved his cock in and out of him. Grunts and groans of pleasure mixing with the sobs and sniffles from SpongeBob, the sharp slap of dry bodies grinding and penetrating echoing through the room. The octopus may have physically been in ecstasy, but mentally he was already piecing together his next move. True, rape was all well and good, but how could he destroy SpongeBob's sense of reality further? He had to hurt SpongeBob deeply, deeper than himself. After all, the yellow boy was a selfless guy. He placed others' needs before his own. But who was most important? True, Squidward understood that SpongeBob was in love with him, but there were other forms of love, after all. Funny. The idea of shattering others to shatter SpongeBob hadn't occurred to Squidward until this moment. It angered the cephalopod that he'd left this idea unturned, forcing his thrusts to quicken all the more, to tear into the sponge's virginal flesh rougher. More blood gushed from the ever-breaking SpongeBob, wails of desperation filling the small space in a crescendo of absolute agony. The idea berated Squidward, echoing and taunting. Break SpongeBob, rebuild him, break him through someone else. Break him by proxy. Proxy, who could be the proxy? Who meant the most to SpongeBob? Why wasn't it occurring to Squidward? He growled, thrusting harder. Fuzzy, everything was growing fuzzy in his rage.

And then, just like that, clarity. In the form of a knock on the door. Squidward paused, pulling out of the bleeding and crying SpongeBob. Who would knock on the door now? He pulled away, exiting the windowless room and stepping down the stairs, not bothering to redress as he opened the front door. Patrick. Squidward couldn't help smiling, hand on his hip as he eyed the starfish. Patrick. Patrick Star. Patrick Proxy. SpongeBob's best friend. His oldest friend. His most important friend. Essentially, SpongeBob's everything. Squidward laughed, not caring how odd this must look to Patrick. A naked, blood-covered Squidward, laughing in the doorway. Time to invite the little sacrificial lamb in, Squidward supposed. Time to truly get to some hard core heartbreak. Time to show SpongeBob how much love could really hurt.

He gripped tightly to fat pink flesh. "S-Squidward?" There was no fear in the starfish's voice, Squidward noticed, just curiosity. Too trusting of his neighbor, too ignorant to realize the intentions of said neighbor. Pathetic, unrealistic to harbor such fake emotions, such drawn on stupidity. Squidward didn't care enough to show this one reality, no no no, this one was born in ignorance, and would die in it. "Come in." It wasn't a question, it was a demand softened by a kind tone. Fake tone. "Okay." That damn trust, any real being would know to turn the other way from someone with blood all over them, with the wild dead eyes. Once guided in Squidward quickly locked the door and looked over at the pink boy. It was a slight change of his ideal plan, if he didn't analyze every single possibility, he would have been stuck, but he had thought of this and an easy solution to it. He finally grabbed a rope while Patrick was looking around the room, curiosity painted on his face as he saw blood spots around the room. Squidward quickly gripped tightly again to the wrists of the starfish, tying them before the lazy but strong boy could react. "Now, Patrick, you're going to listen to me and do as I say, or you won't live very long." The kind tone had completely left the aqua blue mans voice, which morphed into a numb almost dark sound. "W-What?" Fear edging its way into the voice of Patrick, at least he would have a real emotion before death got to him.

"I didn't heisitate when I spoke." The squid paused as he roughly carried the pink boy to the sponge. "Spongebob!" Patrick yelled as he saw the pale yellow, bloody sponge. "P-Patrick?" Hope filled the bright blue eyes, such a fake emotion overwhelming the young boy. Squidward was almost happy to break the unrealistic emotions, he quickly grabbed a knife from a nearby desk and looked over at Patrick. "Let me word this clearly, I want you to rape Spongebob." His words were painfully clear and blunt. Patrick stared in stunned silence before shaking his head, stupid determination. "No, I won't!" He yelled. Squidward sighed lightly, he looked down at his feet before smirking lightly. "I told you, do as I say." He paused as he brought the knife to the boys chest, pressing down hard and slitting through the skin to the other side, listening to the pleasant sound of the boys scream. "Or you won't live very long." "P-Patrick...Please...D-Do as he says...I can't lose you..." The sponge spoke in a raspy voice, eyes weak from pain and being tired. "Spongebob...I uh...Can't! That would hurt you." Patrick may be dumb, but he knew sexual terms, his eyes wide in fear. "Patrick, your naïve friend is being smart for once, I'd suggest you listen to him." The squid spoke in a deviantly slow tone as he quickly took the starfish's pants off. "I-I don't want to hurt him!" Patrick cried, as Squidward harshly rubbed his manhood, erecting it beyond the others wishes. "Please don't make me-" "Do it now, or you're dead." Voice deadly serious. "Pat, its okay, do w-what he says..." The sponge muttered. Patrick looked down as his eyes watered slightly, he walked toward Spongebob and grabbed gently onto his shoulders, positioning himself to the sponges lower hole. "I'm sorry, Spongebob." He whispered as he finally penetrated the boy.

The yellow sponge gasped in pain, too hurt to scream or cry, closing his eyes tightly as the starfish pulled out and back in, getting a reluctant rhythm before cumming quickly. Squidward sighed. "Damn, you both are fast." Patrick pulled away quickly and sobbed, Spongebob just moaned in pain. "Spongebob," Squidward started as he slowly got toward Patrick. "Has anyone close to you ever died?" He asked quietly. The yellow sponge sighed in agony. "N-No..." He hiccuped. "Well, now you will." At those words Spongebobs head shot up. Squidward quickly reared his tentacle with the knife back before aiming it back toward the starfish and shoving it in his chest, directly to the heart. Patrick gasped before his pink skin turned almost white as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, he fell hard on the cold concrete floor, he gave one final deep breath before he stopped breathing completely. "Patrick!" Spongebob screamed, before his breath slowly progressed to hyperventilation, his eyes wide in fear and shock, not being able to believe his best friend just died, his mind trying desperately to block the memory, the defense mechanism in his mind being shattered from trying to block it so hard. This was the full beginning, he was finally beginning to understand real feelings, reality. The squid couldn't help but grin at the boy, this would be an interesting trip to reality.

Did he remember Squidward Tentacles? He remembered the insecure classmate, yes. The knobby knee'd freshman with the bright red eyes and the soft yellow hair. He remembered the carefully scripted repertoire they'd maintained throughout the years, remembered every insult thrown and every received. Yes. Yes, he remembered Squidward Tentacles in that sense, the glossy outer shell, the model of what could have been, what never could be. Did he remember Squidward Tentacles, the reality? Did he remember their first meeting, their true first meeting? Not in high school, as both steadfastly maintained, but there? Antiseptic, clinical, the nightmare of adults. No child should have had to grow up with that. He certainly should not have grown up in that environment. And as far as he was concerned, he hadn't. Locked the memories away, forgetting about the medication rounds and the surveillance. "Danger to himself," They'd whispered about him. "Danger to others," They'd whispered about Squidward. Funny. And Squidward had always considered him a force to be reckoned with, at least in high school. Strange that Squidward played the role of fear, when he was the one with the true reason to be afraid. He. Squilliam Fancyson. He was the one who should have been afraid of Squidward. But he wasn't. Not because he was noble and brave, no. Honestly he was so good at hiding that he'd forgotten himself. No, the richer of the two cephalopods didn't remember their extensive stays at St. Catherine's Children's Lockdown Unit. Psych Ward. Whatever the true name had been.

>>>>>///CONTINUED///>>>>>