Freddy growled deep in his throat. Under his scarred and charred flesh, fury scorched him. He was stuck here, in this watery hell of Crystal Lake. With that retarded mama’s boy of a slasher. Jason.

He wanted revenge on that masked freak. Disobeying his commands and killing too many, ruining what should have been a delicious killing spree of semi-innocents for him. Stealing his kills, allowing him only that weak little boy, who thought he could fight The Springwood Slasher, disobey him even.

Freddy snorted and paced the small dingy room he was in. Within the Voorhees’ house he could feel the very essence of the taller, masked killer, as though it was imprinted into the walls, consuming the rotted wallpaper with its dark mould. He paused to poke at one of these patches, idly wondering how Jason would react to gentle caresses, considering his record of murdering teenagers who were partaking in sexual intercourse.

He stopped up short. That was it!

Jason was afraid of and hated sex. He himself had been feeling rather, needy, in that ‘area’; he could use a night of sexual torture. He laughed to himself. Jason wouldn’t know what hit him!

…….

After there epic battle at the Camp, Jason had gone back to his home, carrying Freddy’s head in one fingerless hand. Jason had thought him dead, but had realised his mistake when Freddy used the last of his strength to reattach his head to his body. He had mostly ignored the behemoth, choosing to spend his time trying to think of ways to escape back to his dream world.

To his dismay, Freddy hadn’t been able to find a solution to his problem. So here he was, almost 2 or 3 months since the fight, stuck in Jason’s home. He couldn’t walk to the town, had no idea of the way, or any mode of transport. He didn’t possess the unstoppable, almost never-ending energy both Jason Voorhees and Michael Myers had, allowing them to move quickly, for miles and miles at a time. The town was far away, and Freddy was impatient.

He envied that of the other two as well, the ability to wait for days, weeks and months, even many years for what they wanted. Michael Myers could wait for an entire year, every year, to kill. Freddy could never do that, he was desperate for blood, thirsty for it, his claw hand twitching on bad days.

God how he hated Jason Voorhees for trapping him here.

………

It was much later that day that Jason finally trudged through the door, dragging a corpse in each hand; one by her blood coated hair, the other by his ripped sneaker encased foot.

Freddy inspected the kills, studying the teenage couple’s faces from behind the other killer. The girl was, as expected, pretty, with soft, short, mousy hair, now streaked with dirt and drying blood, plastered to her face. There was too much makeup on her young face, eyelids splattered with a rather horrid shade of pink, lips bright red, as though they had been painted with children’s paint.

A trail of blood went from the side of her mouth, to the side of her face, onto her hair, down her neck, where a fresh dark love bite screamed out at him. Her boyfriend sported a similar mark on his own neck, along with a hideous stretch of blood caked wounded flesh, most people would have been disgusted at the sight, it excited Freddy.

One thing he had not been able to deny during his previous work with Jason, was that every time the behemoth had killed, he had become twitchy with excitement, the slaughter bringing him joy and the will to kill. Jason’s killing thrilled him.

He ran a claw over the boy’s wound, licking the blood off the blade whilst grinning at the taller killer, who watched his actions curiously. Freddy sauntered up to Jason, who glared at him suspiciously, anger glinting within his dark aura. The Springwood slasher licked his lips and leaned in close to the other’s masked face. He ran his claws over the mask lightly, creating a low scraping noise.

Jason jerked back, confused by the gesture. Was it a hostile threat? He could not tell, and fear, as well as anger, shone in his eyes. Freddy smirked as he turned and left the room, oh yes, Jason was definitely frightened of intimate contact. He laughed evilly.

…….

Don’t read further if you don’t like graphic Yaoi

…..

It wasn’t often that Jason slept, but today he had felt drained and had fallen unconscious on his bed. Although he had barely any body heat of his own, the covers seemed to warm up around him. Jason breathed heavily through his mask, and his hands clenched the bedcovers.

Freddy leaned on the doorframe, watching him. The behemoth’s chest moved up and down slowly as the other’s breath slowed even more. The burnt demon grinned at the sleeping form as he crept into the room.

His claws hooked into the bedcover edge and pulled, the sheet slipping off the masked killer and falling onto the floor. Jason’s shirt had ridden up lightly, exposing his greyish scarred flesh. Freddy raised an eyebrow (And yes, I know he hasn’t got eyebrows) and slowly brought his non-clawed hand up to the larger killer’s stomach, stroking upwards, riding the shirt up even farther.

Freddy glanced up as he heard a sharp intake of breath. Nothing. The behemoth was still asleep. He moved his hand up farther as he gently climbed onto the bed, moving forward so his legs straddled Jason’s. Annoyed at barely receiving any response he gently tweaked one of the other’s nipples.

Jason let out a harsh gasp and sat up so quickly that Freddy was pressed hard against him. The smaller could feel the other’s erection and was surprised at how quickly the other had responded to the small stimulation. Jason stared down at the scarred man shocked and confused, with part of his body hot and throbbing against the other.

Freddy grinned at Jason’s utter confusion and grinded against the behemoth, waiting for his reaction, feeling his own groin tightening at the stimulation. Jason made a loud gasping moan and he jerked up into Freddy, eyes wide with the unknown sensation.

The child murderer groaned, grinding his hips and using his non-clawed hand to tweak and gently squeeze the larger man’s nipples, which had become hard, Freddy liked pinching them, it had the masked mad man gasping and hissing with pleasure. He felt hands hesitantly grope his waist, as though Jason was looking for something to hold onto. Freddy smirked, poor, poor Jason, so innocent, so naïve, he had no idea what was going on.

Jason’s fingers gripped Freddy’s shirt as his hips moved in time with the other killer’s. Mouth gasped behind the hockey mask, body shook in pleasure.

The dream demon leant forward and licked up the side of the larger slasher’s neck, tasting death, feeling the rumble of the behemoth’s heartbeat. His clawed hand began to slice down Jason’s shirt; the sound of the material ripping seemed too loud in the gloomy room.

The larger killer registered the sudden breeze and it confused him, but the burnt serial killer was distracting him with his hips and his hand. Shuddering, he weakly struggled as Freddy forced his shirt off of his chest, exposing Jason’s muscled and scarred chest, his erect nipples, still being groped by the other’s non-gloved hand.

Freddy inspected the flesh and he lowered his head to suckle on one of the behemoth’s nipples, delighted by the noises he produced. Jason moaned and one of his hands moved to stroke over Freddy’s head, fingertips gently exploring the scar tissue.

The burnt dream demon groaned in his throat and he began to grind harder into Jason’s hips. A sense of urgency had fizzled into his movements and the larger slasher mirrored his rhythm. Freddy sucked hard on the other killer’s nipple, growling and groaning around the hard, wet flesh. Jason grabbed him and gasped harshly against him as he came. Freddy hissed against the other’s flesh as with a final hard grind he came, gasping into Jason’s chest.

They lay there panting a while, before Freddy turned to a tired and half-asleep Jason.

“Well, well b#&, you ain’t as bad as I thought.” He laughed. And turned to a dark corner of the bedroom, where a small table, covered with candles stood. In the centre of this arrangement was the mummified head of Mrs Voorhees.

As Jason’s eyes slipped closed and his breath slowed, Freddy grinned.

“Looks like my revenge is complete,” he smirked at the head, “Jason’s my boy now!” The demon laughed harshly and lay back on the bed, resting his head on his hands. He stared at the ceiling, noticing the patches of dark mould.

He knew how Jason reacted to intimacy now.