Chapter Text
It was late, later then Steve wanted to leave work. Working for his father’s business had been the worst mistake of his life. The long hours, business trips, and paperwork killed him. The only thing that added fun to his life was his body count and not in a sex way. Every business trip, he left a crime scene behind; it was an excellent hobby, a fun game.
As Steve unlocked his car that was parked in the darkness of the street, he heard sounds coming from the alleyway—harsh breaths and muffled screams paired with the tell-tell sounds of struggle. There, barely visible in the alley between two abandoned shops, was a tall man dressed in dark denim and golden strands that fell over his shoulders in beautiful curls. He was pretty, despite, or maybe because of, the deep scowl etched into his features. The closer Steve looked, it seemed there was another person there, pushed up against the man and the dirty brick of the wall.
The curiosity got the better of him, and rather than sidle back into his car to drive 40 minutes to a dull house with boring people and boring television; he found his feet carrying him closer. Steve was friends with the shadows, staying well within them to edge closer to the struggle. It was when he had just made it to the opening of the alley that he heard the all-too-familiar crunch of bone and a strangled scream for help that sounded more gurgle than yell. The man was standing, staring down at the body and the bloodied mess he’d made of the wall and his hands. Shining, wet blood covered the front of him, splatters adorning the smooth skin of his face.
It was gorgeous. He was gorgeous.
Steve watched the rage boiling in the man’s face turn sour, listening to him swear under his breath. His blood-covered hands reaching for his blonde curls to smooth it out of his face. Steve smiled in the alley’s dim light. Seeing the reaction of a man’s first kill was titillating to witness.
Steve’s first kill was cleaner, more planned, and he was 12. He had many years to fine-tune his skills and make sure he was hidden from people’s noses, Of course, unless he was too excited like now. Steve hadn’t noticed the can at his feet which he kicked into the dead body when he shifted his weight.
The man got spooked, and in fear of losing this beautiful man, he put his hands up, showing himself.
“Wait, Wait, don’t run.”
The man’s hands were shaking, slight tremors running up and down his spine as he took Steve in. Those sharp, light eyes dragged over his suit-clad figure, and if Steve had been the type of man to blush, his cheeks would be dusted pink with the intense attention the man gave him.
“Who- I didn’t. He was,” his voice cracked, wide, terrified eyes looking down at the bloodied mess the victim’s face was, “What did I do?”
“Looks like you killed him,” Steve said calmly, eyeing the man’s messy job. “Poorly, I might add,” Steve kneeled, being careful not to get blood on himself. “Good spot though, dark alley, broken cameras.” Steve eyed the area, breaking it down for himself to see how easy this would be to cover up.
The man’s eyebrows furrowed, his body screamed defensive, waiting for Steve to shout or call the cops or something. But he didn’t.
“Who are you?” He spat, top lip pulling up into a snarl. He looked like a cornered animal, faced with a variable that had the ability to ruin him. Hell, he’d murdered someone in a blind rage—he’d already been ruined if it wasn’t for Steve, and isn’t that a nice little bit of luck.
Steve smiled when he locked gazes with the fear-filled blue of the man’s eyes. “Seems like I’m your guardian angel.” Steve winked—the excitement building in his chest was impressive; honestly, he was kind of turned on by all of this. “Wait here; I have a kit in my car. I promise I’m here to help you.”
The man stood flabbergasted, the blood coating the front of his shirt and up and down his arms starting to chill with the cold wind. Steve turned and made his way back to his car, nonchalant and even a slight spring in his step, the blond stranger left in the disturbing quiet of the alley. The silence was deafening, and it roared in the man’s ears.
Steve returned moments later, holding a large black case, wearing a rudder-looking apron and gloves. He had a smile on his face that seemed not to fade. "Can I ask you some questions? About this friend of yours, about tonight?" Steve placed the case on the ground, wondering if this was weird for him, this well-dressed stranger who happens to be a psychopathic murderer. "What's your name?”
The man’s mouth dropped open a bit, taking Steve even before giving a small, unbelieving chuckle and mumbling what the fuck under his breath. “You’re a nutcase, aren’t you?” He gave Steve a cautious side-eye before facing him head-on, meeting his gaze, “You can call me Neil. And that,” he said, pointing at the body, “is not my friend. But ask away if you gotta.”
Steve completely ignored Neil's stab at him for being 'crazy' Steve wasn't crazy—far from it.
"Did you have sex with him?" Steve mumbled as he pulled out a plastic sheet from his case and laid it on the ground.
Billy licked his lips nervously, hands tightening into fists at his side. “No! N-no,” he hesitated, stomach rolling uncomfortably at recalling what had made him do… this… in the first place, “He was trying to— he put something in my drink. But it must’ve been weak or some shit because I could still move. Kinda. I came-to here and kinda, just,” his nostrils flared with fury, eyes even beginning to blur with tears just remembering. He didn’t want to remember. “I didn’t give him the chance to.”
Steve snorted at himself as he dragged the body onto the sheet. Not at Neil's misfortune but the fact that he helped throw the defense case out the window if he got caught. "Then good riddance to this ass hole--" Steve went through the victim’s pants, pulling out a wallet but no car keys. Sad, he couldn't make it look like a car crash. "-- Mr. Bates." Steve read the ID in the wallet, pressing his lips together with a chuckle, "not anymore."
“Bates? That’s his name?” Neil gave an unbelieving laugh, giggles pouring out of him, quickly turning into hysterics, “Oh god. I’m sorry, it’s just. Like that one movie? American Psycho? Bates?” He covered his mouth with a trembling hand to quiet the chuckles forcing their way out of him, “Guess it’s not him that’s the killer this time, though.”
Steve loved hearing the laughter pouring out of Neil's mouth. It was sweet and gave Steve goosebumps just listening to it echo off the walls. He kind of forgot to give his name. He was still tied up in the blood and the blue of this man's eyes. "I'm Ste--no- uh Steve" Steve stumbled the words out of his mouth, giving Neil his real name with so much trust. His beautiful face was throwing Steve off his game.
Neil squinted at him, chuckles finally calming down a bit as he watched Steve work. “Steve,” he said slowly as if testing how the name tasted on his tongue. He must’ve approved because he nodded once before leaning back against the wall opposite to where he’d bashed the man’s head in and slid to the ground. He stretched his legs out, his foot just barely touching the body’s foot, and gave a little kick before letting his head thump back against the brick. “Well, what the fuck are we gonna do, Steve.”
"Well, I'm taking this man home with me" Steve rolled the guy in the plastic sheet just not to make a mess of his car. "Since this was not planned, I will have to figure out how to get rid of the body, but we will clean up the blood and…" Steve's eyes flicked over Neil's body as he sat on the ground, which made Steve let out a disappointed sigh "...and we will get you cleaned up at my house."
“You’re literally helping hide a murder right now,” Neil raised an eyebrow at him, weariness pulling his features down and narrowing his eyes, “Why, pray tell, the fuck should I trust you enough to get into your car?”
Neil was on edge, hackles raised and expecting the worst from Steve. He’d narrowly avoided being attacked already tonight and instead managed to become a murderer in that short amount of time.
“For one, you don’t have to trust me, and I don’t expect you too” Steve pulled a spray bottle out of the case. “But I’m the only chance you have right now” Steve kind of felt like he was
forcing Neil to come with him, but he wasn’t. If Steve wanted to have his way, Neil would have been knocked out and hogtied in the back of his car.
Steve started cleaning the blood off the walls taking his time even though no one probably came down here much unless they were also criminals.
Neil let his head thump back against the wall again, closing his eyes. His stomach was cramping with anxiety, and he still felt sick from earlier—the panic and disgust of being so vulnerable settled like lead in his chest.
“Maybe,” he peeked one eye open, lazily watching Steve scrub and spray at the chunky red mess on the wall, “Once I know for sure you’re not gonna fuck me over.” Neil still felt the fear clawing its way up from his chest, and yet in that mess of emotions, not one of them was guilt over what he had done. It had felt...right to kill him. Good, even.
Steve enjoyed the clean-up more than the kill itself; it added some kind of normal part to it for him. Steve never felt guilt but knew he wasn’t normal, but he didn’t care if he was. Steve looked back at the guy exhausted against the wall of the alley. “The anxiety will pass,” Steve mumbled, giving him a shy smile. “Then you will taste true freedom.”
Neil snorted, taking a deep, shuddering breath. “You sound like you’ve done this before, pretty boy. Run into a lot of murders, do you?”
Steve laughed. “I don’t run into a lot. It’s not like we have a club or anything,” Steve cleaned up the last bit on the wall before moving to where the body has been sitting. “But, I have done this before, 42 times counting helping you; I’ve even got a fancy killer name now.”
Neil’s eyebrows shot up, face sobering, “Really now?” He looked nervous. Funny almost, like there’s a difference between killing 42 or 1 with his bare hands. “And what would that be? How so many?”
Steve licked his lips as he looked up at Neil. “They call me the King; I haven’t been caught because I don’t kill in the same city twice in the same year. They only connected the dots a few months ago.”
Neil’s eyes grew big, mouth propping open as he took in the killer who had just started to take over just about every news story as of late. “Holy fuck. Bullshit.” he sat up against the wall, pushing up off of it to stride over to Steve as if getting a better look at the man would help him make the connection to a faceless serial killer. “And you’re helping me? Now?” his face screwed up in confusion, taking yet another step towards Steve, “Why?” he said quietly, peering into his eyes as if trying to find the answers to all the questions clogging his brain there.
Steve shrugged. “My life is boring, and you’re just the excitement I needed today.” Steve stood up and finally finished the rest of the work. He watched Neil check him out, trying to figure out what was not very hard if you knew how to look. “Do I scare you?”
Neil didn’t answer right away, keeping his intense eye contact and considering the question with a low hum. “No. You don’t.” He settled on, stating it firmly and with conviction. Steve was terrifying, but the shine in Neil’s eye confirms that he would rather die than let him know that.
Steve made a face when he looked interested more than he was before in Neil. "Well, come on then" Steve put his stuff away, closing the case up and handing it to Neil with a wink, "unless you want to get caught, that is" Steve smiled faded at the possibility that Neil could just say no and run, but Steve would make sure his actions had consequences.
Fortunately, it seemed Neil had better common sense than that and hesitantly stepped forward to take the case. “You look like you know what you’re doing. I’d rather take your lead than to spend the next 30 years in prison.” Neil replied in perfect deadpan. He wasn’t a fool—he knew what happens to boys like him if he was targeted before being in a building full of men with his being as pretty as he was… well, that’s just asking for trouble, isn’t it?
Steve smiled. "Smart boy." Honestly, Steve would have so much fun with this guy; maybe they would even kill together. Hmm, the idea of that, the excitement of it.
Steve picked up the body, throwing it over his shoulders like it was nothing to him--it was unfortunate he would have to get rid of his suit because of this. Hunting in clothes you wear is never a good idea with fibers getting everywhere.
"My car's not far."
Neil slowed, eying how easily Steve had manhandled a grown man’s dead weight. He wasn’t sure if that added to the intimidation or stirred something in him. Neil gave his head a slight shake before gripping the case in his hands tighter and following Steve back out to his car.
It was a fancy thing, sleek black and probably more expensive than Neil had ever owned or even touched.
Steve opened the trunk of the car and placed the body down into it. Honestly, all of this tonight made him yearn for another hunt, but he wasn't going on another trip for a few weeks.
Steve let out a sigh as he grabbed the case from Neil and put it in with the body, and removed the extra attire he was wearing.
"Get in the back seat. I already put a sheet down for you" Steve opened the back door like a gentleman. Steve wondered what Neil was feeling, how much excitement was kicking in? Did he feel good? Steve always enjoyed the thrill of it all, but he wanted to know how other people thought.
Neil pulled a face at his commanding tone, but climbed in anyway, face passive save for his ears’ tips that flushed a pretty red. “M, not a damn dog, yknow,” he mumbled out, although he understood the reasoning given the front of his shirt was splattered in blood.
He shuffled in, careful not to touch anything that wasn't the plastic sheet lining the inside of the car. “What’re you going to do with him?” he asked quietly, the meekest Steve’s seen him all night.
Steve got out into the car’s front seat and fixed his mirror to see Neil in the back seat, getting to see him in a slightly better light before the overhead light in the car went out as he turned the car on.
“Well, dump his body somewhere in a few days,” Steve smiled, thinking about how he could take credit for it. “Maybe cut something into his skin, take the top of his skull, and put it on my wall.”
It’s not something that’s been disclosed by the cops yet, at least not officially. Reporters have spread the news like cockroaches in hidden corners, whispering about how the serial killer King takes the crown of the victims’ scalps. It’s terrifying, really. Neil narrows his eyes a smidge.
“Why do you do it?”
Steve had never thought about why he did what he did; he only started doing it three victims into this game of his. Sometimes he does it when the people are still alive, watching the fear dripping from their eyes until the shock sets in.
“They don’t deserve a crown.”
Neil hummed, “Who deserves a crown, then?”
Steve pulled out of the parking spot, locking eyes with Neil in the mirror. “I do.”
Neil held his gaze—feeling trapped by Steve’s shockingly clear brown eyes, and yet he felt no struggle or want to break out of it.
Neil is prey. Interesting, pretty, entertaining prey.
And Steve was going to eat him alive just to force him to submit to him. To admit how scared he is of The King.