Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13395726.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      IT_(2017), IT_-_Stephen_King
  Relationship:
      Oscar_"Butch"_Bowers/Patrick_Hockstetter
  Character:
      Oscar_"Butch"_Bowers, Patrick_Hockstetter
  Additional Tags:
      Explicit_Sexual_Content, Abuse_of_Authority, Mildly_Dubious_Consent,
      Homophobic_Language, Dirty_Talk, Fingerfucking, Spanking, Handcuffs,
      Derogatory_Language, Alternate_Universe, Older_Man/Younger_Man,
      References_to_Drugs, Stupid_summary_is_stupid
  Stats:
      Published: 2018-01-23 Words: 5083
****** Still Having Fun ******
by A_M_Kelley
Summary
     Patrick gets busted in a park after hours and is brought into the
     police station. Luckily, Butch is there to teach the young offender a
     lesson in obeying the law.
Notes
     This idea/prompt was given to me by the lovely Java1. So thank you
     very much for inspiring me to write a Butch/Patrick fic!
It was stupid how Patrick got here in the first place.
He was currently down at the police station handcuffed in one of the
interrogation rooms, waiting for a police officer to come in and bust his ass
and all he could do was bide his time. Patrick planted his elbows on the cold
metal table and idly chewed on his nails as he looked around the pretty vacant
room. It wasn’t a typical interrogation room because there wasn’t a two way
mirror, but it was all an awful off white color with various questionable
stains on the walls. The only thing that really brought any levity to the room
was the tacky Hang In There poster with a cat dangling from a branch on the
wall near the door.
The poster itself made Patrick want to claw his own eyes out. He’d much rather
the room be completely bare to be quite honest because staring at a little
furball clinging to a life line was torture enough. Also, there wasn’t a clock
in the room which really fucked with Patrick. He could have been waiting here
for an hour or ten minutes and he wouldn’t know the difference. It was like
waiting your turn at the doctor’s office, it was so excruciating. Patrick just
wanted to get lectured and leave.
Patrick was working on his thumb nail when the door clicked open and drew his
undivided attention towards the turning knob. The whole situation wasn’t
something to be excited about but now that something was finally happening
Patrick couldn’t help it when he perked up like an inquisitive puppy hearing a
new sound or word for the first time. He stuffed his handcuffed hands back into
lap and sat up straight as Butch Bowers entered the room.
“Shit,” Patrick hissed under his breath.
He hadn’t expected to see Henry’s dad working this late because he almost never
fucking did. Butch liked to spend his nights drinking and tormenting his son to
the point where Henry lashed out at other people. The fact that Officer Bowers
was the one coming to lecture Patrick changed everything. Butch swore up and
down that Patrick was a bad influence on Henry and was the sole reason why he
was such a little punk when the reality was that Henry was fucked up because of
the abuse suffered at the hands of his own dad.
That wasn’t up for debate, however. This was all about Patrick and how he
screwed up for the hundredth time. It wasn’t his first run in with the law, and
probably wouldn’t be his last, but he’s never faced severe consequences on
account of being a minor. Now he was seventeen and on the precipice of being an
adult which meant he could be tried as an adult and he could be in serious
trouble. He hadn’t thought about that when they caught him in the park.
Then again, Patrick had been confident that he wouldn’t get caught yet here he
was with a very agitated and unamused Butch Bowers slamming the door behind him
and locking it. Patrick hated the way it made him jump. It made him appear
weak. He thought Butch might have smiled at Patrick’s nervousness but the older
man remained placid and stoic, scowling even. It’s like he was offended by the
sight of Patrick alone which, I don’t know, maybe should have made Patrick
proud but now was not the time nor place to start cracking a smirk.
Especially since Butch had his gun in his holster on one hip and a nightstick
on the other. It’s like would you rather get the shit beaten out of you or get
shot? That’s one question Patrick hoped Officer Bowers wouldn’t ask him during
the interrogation.
Butch wasn’t the one who arrested Patrick, but he was the one now having to
deal with the juvenile delinquent. Butch wasn’t usually around whenever Patrick
was brought in, but he read the kid’s record and knew his fuck ups were a mile
long with something new each time. Vandalism, shoplifting, trespassing,
property damage, assault, public intoxication… You name it and Patrick has most
likely did it. Butch didn’t know whether to be impressed or disgusted that this
little shit was always getting away with a slap on the wrist when what he
really deserved was a good ass beating.
Butch liked the idea of Patrick breaking down and crying after his ass has been
beaten red and irritated. He probably hasn’t been spanked since he was a child,
if ever, and Butch entertained the idea of being the one to finally tan his
hide. But seeing the dubious look on Patrick’s face was just as well. All wide-
eyed and defenseless like a frightened deer. Still, he didn’t look away from
Butch nor did he tremble like a coward like Henry might if he was caught
breaking the law.
“Why am I not surprised?” Butch asked rhetorically, crossing his arms over his
chest disapprovingly.
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Patrick lied, acting like he had a pair.
“Don’t you talk while I'm talking you little punk!” Butch barked, pointing a
finger at Patrick from across the table. “And bullshit you didn’t! Officer Nell
told me all about what you were doing out at that park.”
“Then why are you wasting my time? Let me go,” Patrick argued, testing Officer
Bowers’ patience which was practically nonexistent.
“I'm the officer here you shitbird and you get to leave when I let you,” Butch
reminded, laying down the law as it were.
If it were his son Butch would’ve already slapped him across the face for even
raising his voice ever so slightly, but Patrick wasn’t Henry and he couldn’t
have him leaving the station with a bloody nose or black eye. Patrick must know
this since he seemed so comfortable with challenging Butch’s authority. Maybe
the teen was hoping he would lash out as a sort of reverse psychology. Patrick
was infamous for playing the victim card whenever he found himself cornered in
a dicey situation.
“Now cut the bullshit and start talking.”
“What’s there to talk about? You already know what I did, right?” Patrick
questioned, leaning back in his chair and kicking out his legs beneath the
table. Bored.
“But I want to hear it from you,” Butch clarified.
“I was loitering after curfew. So what?” Patrick deflected nonchalantly.
“And?”
“And that’s it. End of story.”
“That’s not what I heard.”
“Oh really?”
“Yeah, now stop being a smart ass and tell me the truth.”
Butch was starting to get frustrated with Patrick’s insistence on prolonging
the situation even when he was the one who wanted this to end already. It’s
like the kid thrived off of annoying people to their breaking point.
“This is so fucking stupid,” Patrick scoffed, shaking his head as he looked
away from Officer Bowers. “I wanna talk to Officer Nell, seeing as how he was
the one who arrested me.”
“You’re dealing with me now and you’ll do as I say,” Butch threatened, raising
his voice even more as if to drive home the point that he was the one in
control of the situation. “Unless you want to stay the night here I suggest you
start talking.”
“Okay, okay!” Patrick relented, sounding like petulant child. “I was trying to
score a gram of coke, but Officer Numbnuts scared the guy off.”
“And what were you going to do with it?”
“I'm not a fucking junkie,” Patrick swore, scowling a little as he got
defensive.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Butch followed up.
“I was getting it for a friend, alright?”
“Who?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Seeing as how your ass is on the line, I’d say it does.”
“I’m not a snitch,” Patrick claimed, fixing Officer Bowers with a resolute and
unwavering gaze.
“I'm not this, I'm not that,” Butch mocked, starting to pace back and forth in
front of the table Patrick sat at. “You could be the goddamn Queen of England
for all I care. You still broke the law and that don’t mean you’re getting off
the hook.”
Patrick was unmoved by Butch’s threats and the ever increasing volume of his
voice. It didn’t mean that Butch didn’t scare him because he kind of did. But
Patrick was in the safety of the police station with other officers around to
keep Butch from laying a hand on him. Butch was really getting agitated now
since Patrick was barely cooperating and he had half a mind to say fuck it and
take his badge off so he could kick this kid’s ass with a clean conscience.
Instead, he stuck to his duties and brought up his next question.
“How did you plan to pay for these drugs?” Butch inquired, getting Patrick’s
attention back on him.
“Kind of answers itself doesn’t it?” Patrick replied like a know-it-all brat.
“Funny considering that when they brought you in and took all of your personal
effects Officer Nell noted that your wallet was empty,” Butch surmised, pleased
when he saw Patrick’s little smirk slowly leave his face. “Tell me, how do you
pay a man without any money?”
“Is that a riddle or something?” Patrick scoffed.
“Humor me,” Butch deadpanned.
“If I didn’t know any better, Officer Bowers, I’d say you’re trying to imply
something,” Patrick observed, batting his lashes and trying to play dumb.
“Let's just say I wouldn’t put it past you if you’re whoring yourself to buy
illegal substances,” Butch said, hitting the nail on the head when he noticed
Patrick smirk and roll his eyes.
“Are you just here to criticize me or is there an actual point to this?”
Patrick sighed, getting huffy.
“Why don’t you go ahead and stand up for me,” Butch ordered.
It wasn’t a request or a suggestion because Butch didn’t pose it as a question.
Patrick squinted at Officer Bowers who just stood there with his arms over his
chest as if he was all business.
“Why?” Patrick asked with suspicion.
“Because I'm the cop and you’re the fuck up,” Butch asserted in a strong tone.
He slammed his fist on the table, jostling Patrick out of his angsty teen
routine and leaned over to get in the boy’s face. “Now cut the crap and get
your scrawny ass out of that damn chair!”
Patrick pushed himself away from the table, making the legs of the chair
screech across the linoleum, and fixed Butch a spiteful gaze. He got up onto
his feet, revealing that he was still handcuffed, and heaved out a sigh like he
was just told to clean up his room. Patrick shrugged and made gesture as if to
say happy now?, still going the extra mile to be as snotty as possible.
Butch walked around to the other side of the table, Patrick watching him the
whole time, and put his hands on the boy. He started to feel up Patrick,
patting around his waist until he started to grope the teen’s ass through his
black jeans. Patrick startled and jerked away from Butch instinctively, gasping
in shock and pretending to be mildly offended.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Patrick squawked, whipping around to face
Officer Bowers with a perplexed expression.
“I'm strip searching you.”
“Officer Nell already searched me. I have nothing on me,” Patrick argued,
trying to use his bound hands to protect himself.
“That also entails a cavity search,” Butch went on to explain, eying Patrick up
and down with a long sweeping gaze. “More often than not people found
purchasing illegal substances usually tend to hide stuff where the sun don’t
shine.”
“I already told you pigs you scared the guy off before I could even score,”
Patrick tried protest but his excuses went unacknowledged.
“I’m still going to have to search you more thoroughly,” Butch insisted. He
grabbed Patrick by the shoulders and spun him around, pushing him down against
the tabletop. “Now shut your mouth and let me do my job.”
Butch wasted no time in reaching in front of Patrick’s waist and undoing his
jeans. He yanked Patrick’s pants down, noting that the kid wasn’t even wearing
underwear, and exposed his rear end. Butch muttered whore under his breath and
shook his head in disgust. Patrick gasped when the air hit his hot skin and his
shamefully erect cock nudged into the edge of the cold metal table. Patrick
hadn’t even realized he was hard up until now, but seeing as how he was cock
blocked earlier while he was trying score, it didn’t surprise him that he was
aroused again.
The older man peered down at the teen, taking in the sight of smooth pale skin
covered in goosebumps. Patrick had his arms extended out in front of him across
the table, the metal of the handcuffs rattling against the surface as he tested
their integrity. He wasn’t getting free any time soon, ultimately leaving him
at the mercy of Officer Bowers. He wasn’t sure whether to be scared or turned
on by that.
“Spread your legs,” Butch issued, voice firm and demanding.
Patrick did as he was told, shuffling back and forth awkwardly until his cheeks
spread apart and exposed his entrance to the officer. He waited in
anticipation, hearing Butch rustle behind him for a brief moment before he
finally felt a hand pushing one cheek aside to reveal his pink hole further.
Patrick wondered where Butch's other hand was until he felt a finger pressing
inside him. It was so sudden that Patrick tensed up and denied Butch entry.
“Aren’t you supposed to, I don’t know, use something before you go poking
around in there?” Patrick gasped when Officer Bowers still tried to breach him.
“What makes you think you deserve it?”
Before Patrick could respond, Butch slapped him harshly on the ass making
Patrick jump from the impact. Butch did spare the teen a little when he sucked
on his finger, coating it in a liberal amount of saliva, before attempting to
penetrate him once again. This time the resistance of Patrick’s body gave way
and slid inside. Not entirely smooth, jagged really, but it did help a bit.
Patrick groaned low in his throat when the first finger pushed its way in but
accepted it.
Patrick felt Butch feeling around inside of his channel, wiggling his finger
slightly as he pretended to actively search for incriminating evidence. Patrick
was so tight and the saliva wasn’t enough to shift the teen’s insides around
enough to properly check him, so Butch pulled out and kneeled down behind
Patrick instead. The older man lapped and spit on Patrick’s hole until it was
wet enough to his liking, all while making Patrick moan enthusiastically.
It didn’t last long but Patrick appreciated every little probing lick and swirl
of Butch Bowers’ hot salivating tongue. He tried to wiggle against Butch’s face
to get him in further but was stopped by a firm smack each time. That only
seemed to spur Patrick on even more, prompting him to do it more frequently
until Butch rose up on his feet once again. This time he sucked on two of his
fingers, taking his time to make sure they were wet enough before plunging them
into Patrick.
This initial breach made Patrick call out from how rough the inward shove was
and how quickly his muscles had to accommodate the added pressure, but his
gasps slowly ebbed away into low whines. Officer Bowers still had his hand on
one of Patrick’s cheeks, prying him open to watch that pink little hole ripple
and grip his calloused digits. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen or felt
and Butch couldn’t remember a chick feeling this tight before.
He began to wiggle his fingers again, feeling around the hot, moist walls of
Patrick ass as he delved inside deeper. Butch’s fingers scissored lightly,
stretching Patrick open further and trying to coax the muscles into relaxing.
Below him, Patrick was groaning and whimpering both in delight and agony,
causing Butch to smirk. He started to thrust his fingers in and out of Patrick,
attempting to go as deep as he could whilst also fucking Patrick with his hand.
“How does that feel?” Butch inquired, half taunting and half genuinely curious.
“A little uncomfortable,” Patrick admitted with a soft groan.
“You’re lucky enough to have my spit ease the way. After the shit you pulled
tonight,” Butch scolded, slapping Patrick on the ass with his free hand as he
twisted his fingers. “Breaking curfew, intent to buy illegal substances, acting
like a brat, and strutting your ass around for any man to take advantage of.
Your type disgusts me.”
“I gotta get what I want somehow,” Patrick commented, raising up on his elbows
to look back at Butch over his shoulder. “And if I have to suck cock or get
fucked, so what? I'm still having fun either way.”
“Is this fun enough for you?” Butch inquired, thrusting his fingers deep inside
Patrick and curving them to make the boy call out shortly.
“Most fun I've had all week,” Patrick groaned, pushing himself further into
Butch’s contact.
That was how Patrick begged. He taunted and arched himself closer to what was
making him feel good and hoped the person got the hint. Luckily, Officer Bowers
was keen enough to put two and two together. He roughly shoved the two digits
into Patrick as the teen rocked back to meet him halfway every other time. It
still left a little discomfort but Patrick was embracing it and letting himself
get lost in the sensation of Butch Bowers fingerfucking him in one of the
interrogation rooms while being slapped harshly on the ass.
Each time Butch’s hand came down against one of his cheeks Patrick let out a
soft mmm of approval, loving the itchy burning sting it left behind. Patrick
would have trouble sitting for a few days after this since Butch was so rough,
but he enjoyed every moment of it. He had been hesitant at first, assuming
Butch would just forget he was an officer of the law and beat him within an
inch of his life, but now that he knew this was the game Butch wanted to play
he was on board.
“I swear to God all you queers are the same. You run your mouth like you’re hot
shit and spread your legs for the first cock you can get ahold of,” Butch
admonished, tone harsh and cruel.
“You sound like you have experience,” Patrick deduced. “You got something you
wanna tell me?”
“I ain’t a fucking homo,” Butch cursed, bringing his hand down harder than ever
on Patrick’s left cheek.
This drew out a surprised yelp from Patrick and it stung so much that his eyes
burned a little with the beginnings of a tear forming at one corner. Anyone
else with a little dignity or respect for themselves would be offended by
Butch’s words, but Patrick had no illusions about himself. He didn’t care what
people called him. It was true, so why try and deny it? Besides, he got off on
it a little. He wouldn’t outright own up to it, but actions speak louder than
words.
This made Butch finger Patrick even harder, scissoring him open to the point
where the muscles were pulled taught around them. Patrick’s thighs were
trembling and he whimpered when he felt his hole being stretched to the limit.
It’s not like he hasn’t been fucked before, because he has plenty of times, but
Butch wasn’t the most gentle guy and spit only went so far. Patrick was still
hard though and leaking precome like it’s the end of the world. He can even
feel a string of precome dripping from the tip of his cock all the way down to
the ground.
“Look at you,” Butch admonished. He groped at Patrick’s ass, pushing a cheek
aside to see his fingers disappearing and reappearing in a twisting motion.
“Filthy little slut just begging for a cock to fuck that dirty hole. Were you
going to fuck that dealer tonight?”
“If he wanted my ass? Yeah, I would have,” Patrick admitted without shame.
“Whore,” Butch spat, hitting Patrick across the ass sharply. “You really don’t
care where it is, do you? Your room, the park, here... I bet you can’t even
remember half the guys you’ve screwed.”
“Maybe not by their face,” Patrick cracked, huffing out a laugh that was
ultimately cut off by another harsh swat to his ass. “Why do you even care?”
“Because you and every other faggot in this piece of shit town disgusts me.”
“You’d be singing a different tune if you had my tight ass on that cock,”
Patrick boasted, biting his lip as he rocked back on Butch’s fingers. “I bet
you’re hard.”
Patrick wasn’t wrong either. Butch had been sporting a hard on ever since
Patrick started making noises. It also didn’t help that Patrick was the most
tempting piece of ass Butch has ever laid eyes on. He couldn’t really fathom
why that was exactly. Maybe because he was young and game for anything really.
Maybe it was a forbidden desire of Butch’s. It could be his own repressed
feelings being brought to the surface even though he tried to combat this with
hateful words to discourage Patrick, but it only made Patrick more
enthusiastic.
Patrick liked being shamed and, even worse, Butch liked shaming him. Which is
why there was no stopping what came next.
Butch undid his work belt that held all of his important shit, gun, nightstick,
keys, handcuffs, ammo, and let it clatter to the ground. He continued to fuck
Patrick with his fingers as he used his spare hand to unzip his fly and fish
his hard cock out. Patrick swayed his ass back and forth when he recognized the
sounds coming from behind him and tried to push himself back far enough to feel
Butch’s cock. Butch indulged the teen and pressed himself against the curve of
one of his reddened cheeks and rubbed the column of hot flesh into Patrick.
“That satisfy your curiosity?” Butch inquired. His voice was low a sultry,
probably the most gentle tone he’s used all night, like he was a lover instead
of the abusive low life he normally is. “You want that hard cock in your ass
don’t you? You’re practically begging for it.”
“Can’t help but feel like it’s what I'm owed after Officer Numbnuts cock
blocked me.”
“But is it what you deserve after what you pulled tonight?” Butch asked,
getting slightly philosophical as he rutted his cock against Patrick. “No… I
think I’ll just fuck you like this. Maybe that’ll teach you a lesson.”
“Asshole!” Patrick cursed.
He was so livid that he spit over the gleaming surface of the table a little.
This, of course, resulted in another smack! that made Patrick’s ass blush a
nice pink color. Patrick was forced to feel Officer Bowers’ cock sliding
against him while he was fingerfucked instead. It made him want to throw a
tantrum just so he could get his way, but that shit didn’t work with Butch.
Butch wouldn’t have relented either way. He was dead set on making Patrick beg
for it.
That never came to fruition anyway since Butch had found something more
incriminating while he was fingering Patrick. There was a spongy little bump
inside Patrick’s ass that, when rubbed against, made the kid cry out in
ecstasy. And it wasn’t that fake moaning shit you’d get with prostitutes. This
was real, earth shattering whimpering that left Patrick shaking. It was so much
for Patrick that he was actively trying to get away from the sensation until he
was on the tips of his toes and his waist was digging painfully into the edge
of the metal table.
His neglected cock was twitching and expelling more of that clear sticky
substance as he begged to be fucked already. Not with words, but with his
whining. He barely noticed it when Butch pulled away slightly so he could start
stroking his own cock. Patrick was nothing more than a moaning mass of
incoherent syllables and sensitive nerves as Officer Bowers exploited that one
tiny spot inside him. Butch spared no mercy as he rubbed and nudged his
prostate with rough calloused fingers either.
Patrick fell forward and threw himself face first into the table, making a
thump noise when his forehead collided with the surface. The dull pain he got
from it was insignificant as he instead moaned helplessly against the cold
shiny top. His arms were out in front of him, bony wrists beginning to chafe
from the cuffs digging into them, and clawed at the table with blunt chewed
nails. All that existed were his pitiful moans and the slick sound of Butch
jacking himself off with fervent speed. Everything else just drowned out as he
chased the precipice of his orgasm.
Even when the boy tried to get away from his contact, Butch didn’t let up and
continued to fuck Patrick with his fingers. It got to the point where the kid
was balancing on his toes, causing him to tense further from the strain. All
the muscles in his ass and thighs were pulled taut, making Patrick tremble even
more. It was enough to make Butch’s cock twitch with interest, helping him to
reach his climax faster than he would’ve on his own with a dirty magazine.
Patrick was the first to break, throwing his head back as his cock jerked and
spurted his release. He hadn’t even touched himself, but the stimulation from
Butch was enough to make him coming in long rolling waves. The benefits of
being young and virile, he supposed. Patrick found some solace in the idea of
Officer Bowers not being able to come untouched like this anymore. Then again,
Butch didn’t know the joys of playing with himself in this way.
Still, even as Patrick was moaning and panting and shooting his load on the
dirty linoleum beneath him, Butch stroked himself to completion shortly soon
after. His coordination between his hand became out of sync as he sprayed come
all over Patrick’s pink ass. He heard Patrick wince and groan whenever his
fingers hit his prostate a little too sharply, but it only fueled his orgasm.
He figured Patrick was overstimulated right now and any further attention to
that particular spot would potentially hurt him, but Butch was beyond caring.
Veni, vidi, vici.
After Butch was finished coming he pulled his fingers out of Patrick’s limp
prone body. Patrick sagged against the table and didn’t attempt to move. His
thighs were on fire from the strain and his ass felt reamed out despite not
getting fucked. His cock also ached like he hadn’t properly came and he
supposed that was because he didn’t have a chance to stroke himself. It was a
sensation akin to blue balls, except he had come and a lot. He was surprised by
how much.
On the other side of things, Butch gazed down at Patrick and took in the
beautiful sight of his little pink hole now red from abuse and still slightly
agape. The thick ropes of come splattered across Patrick’s ass was literally
the icing on the cake and starkly contrasted with the adorable little blush
that had been brought about from spanking. Patrick didn’t exactly break down
and cry like Butch had hoped, but this was just as effect. The result still had
the same effect.
Butch put his softening cock away and zipped himself up. He slapped Patrick on
the ass, being mindful to avoid the come there, and cleared his throat.
“Pull your damn pants up,” Butch ordered as he clicked his belt back into
place.
Patrick slowly clambered off of the table, head hung down and hair hanging in
his face. Patrick hadn’t even realized his cheeks were wet until he felt
strands of hair cling to them. When had he cried? He reached down and slowly
pulled his pants up over his abused and soiled ass the best he could with bound
hands. He sniffled a little as he finally came down from his orgasmic high and
the discomfort began to set in. His insides hurt when he shifted from foot to
foot and Officer Bowers’ come stung his welted ass as his jeans made his tender
skin chafe.
“Turn around.”
Patrick complied, trying to hide his face behind his hair. Butch yanked Patrick
by the handcuffs, forcing Patrick to stumble forward into him. Butch retrieved
his keys and unlocked the handcuffs, freeing Patrick from his binds. He latched
the cuffs onto his belt and grabbed Patrick underneath the chin in a rough
grip, forcing him into eye contact.
“You learn your lesson?” Butch asked, searching the boy’s ruddy, wet face with
a hard gaze.
“Yes, Officer Bowers,” Patrick replied in a meek voice.
“Not so cocky now are you, you little shit,” Butch taunted, taking pleasure in
Patrick’s newfound compliance.
Patrick was still so dazed that he didn’t have enough energy or the capacity to
be a snarky brat. Instead, he let Butch bask in his victory. He let go of
Patrick’s chin and stomped off towards the door to unlock it. When he returned
he gripped Patrick by the scruff of his neck and yanked him in close. Patrick
could smell the hint of alcohol on his breath, which wasn’t surprising, but it
was still enough to make his nostrils burn a little.
“Maybe next time you’ll obey the law,” Butch said, shoving Patrick away roughly
towards the door. “Now get out of here, you make me sick.”
Patrick left in a hurry without looking back, thankful that he wasn’t in
trouble but disappointed because he was left wanting more. He didn’t turn back
to test his luck and instead navigated his way through the police station. It
was like a walk of shame except no one was aware of what had happened in that
room with Officer Bowers. He stepped out into the night and let the cold air
sober him up. He knew there was a lesson to be learned from all of this, and he
should really fear Butch Bowers, but this excited Patrick if nothing else.
Patrick breathed in deeply, smirking a little as he did, and contemplated what
law to break next.
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