Abandon All Hope

BY : ChibiAyane
Category: -Movies Misc > Slash - Male/Male
Dragon prints: 522
Disclaimer: I do not own It or any of its characters. I make no money for this story. It's for fun only.

Bill glowered out the classroom window at the wet pavement and the giant water droplets that were making it so. Perfect. The TV hadn't said anything about rain and he rode his bike to school. Worse, he didn't bring an umbrella and he just knew that when he got home, Georgie was going to ask him to play outside in the puddles.

He flinched when a wad of paper hit him in the side of the head. He looked around to see who threw it and spotted Henry Bowers looking at him with a smirk. Bill sighed and reached down to retrieve the paper, glancing up to see if Mr. Gray, the creepy handsome science teacher was paying him any attention. Satisfied that he was in the clear, he uncrumpled the paper and frowned down at the drawing.

It was a stick-figure drawing of himself and Ritchie in a sexual position. Bill rolled his eyes and crumpled the paper back up and threw it in the trash that was two desks ahead of him. He smirked when he made the shot without hitting the rim of the trash bin.

"Thank you for the impromptu example of velocity and inertia, Mr. Denbrough," Mr. Gray said, surprising Bill.

Bill blushed a deep shade of crimson. "S-s-sorry, Mr. Gray," he stuttered out, not entirely from his usual stutter.

"Keep your attention up here, please, Mr. Denbrough," Mr. Gray responded, glancing at Bowers with a look of concealed anger. "You too, Mr. Bowers. Detention for throwing things in class."

"What about him!?" Bowers yelled back, pointing at Bill.

"And a call to your father," Mr. Gray added. "For talking back."

Bowers glared murderously back at him, sending an angry scowl at Bill too.

Bill proceeded to ignore Henry Bowers for the rest of the class, not even looking at him. He could feel the bully's eyes burning a hole into the side of his head.

Bill had no idea why Bowers had been fixating on him more lately. He still picked on the other losers when they were near, but Bill was the only one he'd been singling out. As a result, Bill had been doing his best not to get caught alone anywhere by Bowers or his gang.

Science class broke up, Bowers was held up by the teacher telling him to come back at the end of the school day to serve his detention.

Bill made a beeline for his locker which was only down the hall. He'd barely put his science and chemistry books away before his locker was slammed on his hand, the locker door bouncing off his bones. There was a worrying snapping sound from his hand and middle finger, followed by a sharp pain that had Bill yelling and holding his hand to his chest.

His locker was slammed shut and he was forcibly turned around to face a seething Henry Bowers. His back was slammed into his locker with a loud clatter.

"Look what you did, S-S-Stuttering B-B-Billy," Bowers spat at him.

"I-I didn't d-do anything," Bill defended himself, his stutter worsening. "Y-You're the o-o-o-... o-one who threw that pap-paper at my h-h-head!"

Bowers slammed his hands on either side of Bill's head. "You talking back to me, Billy? You should show your betters a little more respect."

"Go to h-hell, B-Bowers!" Bill shouted, catching the attention of everyone in the hall. "Th-The day w-wi-will never come when yo-you're b-b-better than m-m-me!"

Bowers' face turned a deep shade of red, rage in his eyes. He drew his fist back, ready to punch Bill's lights out. Except Bill chose just that moment to raise his left knee, straight into Bowers' family jewels. A rather embarrassing squeal came out of Bowers' throat, as the bigger boy keeled over, holding his balls. All the students in the immediate vicinity burst out laughing. Bill took that moment to run.

"Bowers!" Mr. Gray's voice shouted from behind them.

Bill didn't turn to look, he just ran straight to the boys' bathroom. He would just hide in here until everyone was in their next class, then he'd grab his bag and head home. He would only miss one class, so he doubted his parents would ever know.

Bill went into one of the stalls, locking the door behind him. He sat on the toilet and drew his feet up onto the seat.

Bill took a deep breath, closing his eyes to try and regain himself.

He could not believe he'd just done that. Bowers was going to kill him if he ever got ahold of him. He heard someone come into the bathroom, then knock on the closed door to the stall that Bill was hiding in.

"Bill?" Mr. Gray's voice said.

Bill breathed a sigh of relief, standing up to unlock and open the door. He looked up at the face of one of the most attractive people he'd ever seen and waited for his punishment to be handed down. "A-Are you going to t-tell my p-p-parents?" Bill asked, quickly looking at his shoes.

A hand came up and raised Bill's face with a finger on his chin. "No," Mr. Gray said. "I just came in here to see if you were alright. I saw everything."

He reached out and took Bill's hand and held it up to inspect it. Bill himself only just noticed the big purple welt on the back of his right hand. His teacher pressed at the lump gently, causing Bill to hiss in pain.

Mr. Gray sighed, "I think it might be broken." He looked up into Bill's eyes. "You're going to have to go to the hospital for this."

"B-B-But then I'll have to t-tell my p-p-p-parents what hap-ppened!" Bill said, panicked.

"They shouldn't get too mad for an injury you got from falling off your bike," Mr. Gray said with a smirk.

Bill stared at him, gobsmacked. "Uuuh... R-Right. I fell off m-my b-bike." The teacher let go of his hand and turned to walk away.

"Come on, then. Someone needs to take you the hospital to get it checked out," Mr. Gray said.

"W-What about the last class?" Bill asked, following his teacher out of the bathroom.

Mr. Gray shrugged. "I've made it a study hall for today. Mr. Bowers is waiting in the Principal's office for his father to come get him. You don't need to worry about him for a few days, I should think."

They stopped by Bill's locker for him to grab his backpack, then by the teachers' lounge for Mr. Gray to grab his wallet and car keys.

They called Bill's parents while in there, telling them that Bill had hurt himself falling off his bike on the way to school but had toughed out the pain until one of his teachers finally noticed the big knot on his hand.

Bill heard his mother's voice freaking out a little over the phone and he felt bad for lying to her.

Things happened quickly after that. There was a fairly relaxing drive to the hospital, a surprisingly short wait in the waiting room, during which time Mr. Gray talked to him about nothing important. Asking him what he liked to do in his free time. What his baby brother was like. What his parents did for a living. His attention seemed to be riveted to Bill's every answer.

After about fifteen minutes, his mother came in harried and disheveled, looking for her eldest son and darting over to him.

When the lady in charge of registration came over, Mr. Gray took his leave, giving Bill a secret smile behind his mother's back as she filled out the forms.

A few hours later found Bill leaving the emergency room with his mother, two prescription bottles in a bag in her hands and care instructions for his hand and wrist that was wrapped in a cast with splints on two of his fingers.

Bowers had broken his hand and Bill was not sorry for nutting him for it.

The Losers' bikes littered his front lawn, which included his own bike that someone had brought back for him. They were all waiting in his living room for him, but the first person who greeted him was Georgie. He moved his hand out of harm's way just in time for a flying hug from his baby brother.

"Are you okay, Billy!?" Georgie pleaded, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"I'm fine, Geo-Georgie," Bill answered, smiling at him.

"What the hell happened? One minute you were fine, next Eddie's telling me he watched you leave with Mr. Gray, the creepy fucking science teacher!" Ritchie said.

"Richard Tozier, watch your language!" Bill's mother admonished, then turned to head for the kitchen.

Ritchie blushed and bit his lip. "Sorry."

"Good," she said, nodding her acceptance of Ritchie's apology. "I'll go make dinner. Something easy to eat."

"I-I fell off my bike on my w-way to s-s-school," Bill said, glancing at his mother's back as she left.

"What? But I rode to school with you- Aah!" Ritchie's argument was cut off by Beverly's foot standing on his own.

"I saw what happened," Beverly said quietly to Bill.

Bill sighed in dismay, he was hoping his friends wouldn't find out that he'd pissed off Bowers until later. Much, much later! Preferably never.

"What?" Eddie asked, glancing between Bill and Beverly.

"Bowers," Bill said, which seemed to be all the explanation needed, as everyone sighed or groaned.

"Great! What kind of retribution are we looking at?" Eddie asked.

"Bill hit him in the balls," Beverly supplied, smirking. They were surrounded by sounds of dismay from the other Losers.

"You mean that bully?" Georgie piped up. "He scares me."

"Georgie!" Bill turned. He'd forgotten little ears were listening.

"I won't tell mom, Billy," Georgie whispered. "Bowers is mean. He flicked a cigarette at me once."

"He did what?!" All of the Losers growled, Bill glared at Georgie.

"Oh, that's it! He's fuckin' dead!" Ritchie said.

"W-W-When did this hap-pen? And why d-didn't you t-tell me?!" Bill demanded.

Georgie twiddled his thumbs. "Last year after school one day, and I didn't tell you because I didn't want him to kill you if you got mad!"

"It doesn't m-m-ma-matter if I get m-mad," Bill said, trying to control his stutter. He put his good hand on one of Georgie's shoulders. "If s-someone hurts you, you t-t-tell me!"

"He didn't hurt me," Georgie defended himself. "I stepped out of the way before the cigarette could hit me."

"B-But he c-c-c-c... c-c-c fuck!" Bill spat in frustration.

"But he could have, Georgie," Beverly helped out, crouching in front of the little boy. "He could have hurt you really bad, so if someone does something like that, you have to tell someone. You have to tell Bill. Or even any one of us."

"Damn right!" Ritchie supplied. "I'll shove that dick's cigarette right up his own asshole! While it's lit!"

Georgie giggled at Ritchie's comment.

"Understand?" Beverly asked. Georgie nodded, his cheeks turning rosy as he looked at her. Beverly smiled. "Good."

"Are you all staying for dinner?" Bill's mother called from the doorway to the kitchen.


It wasn't until about a week later, after the splints were taken off of Bill's fingers, that Bill felt like he was just waiting for something bad to happen. There was this feeling that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

He was jumpy that entire school day and he didn't know why. Eddie and Ritchie noticed before anyone else. He tried to reassure his friends, but they gave him doubtful looks. He shrugged it off, because he didn't know why he was jumpy, so he couldn't very well explain what was wrong.

He found that his instincts weren't unfounded after school.

He went into the school bathroom to take the pill he was supposed to take in the middle of the day. It was for pain and he'd forgotten to take it after lunch. Honestly, he didn't like taking them because they made his head fuzzy and his stutter a hundred times worse, but he knew his mother would ream him if he didn't take it.

He'd just twisted the lid back on the bottle, and was leaning over the sink to get a sip of water when he was shoved hard enough to smack his head on the bottom of the old cracked mirror. He dropped the bottle and fell backward holding his head with his good hand. He could feel warm liquid bleeding sluggishly onto his palm.

He heard the unmistakable laughter of the Bowers' gang, not unlike the sound of cackling hyenas. He hadn't even heard them come into the bathroom, that's how muddled up his brain was from those meds.

Bill opened his eyes and looked up at the enraged face of Henry Bowers. Bowers had been on suspension for the last week, and today was his first day back. There was a dark yellowing bruise around his left eye and a dried split in his lip. Bowers was not laughing like his friends. There was nothing but pure unadulterated hatred in his eyes.

"B-Bowers..." Bill started but was interrupted by the bigger, angrier boy grabbing him up off the floor and slamming him back against the bathroom stall as if he weighed nothing. "Bowers!" he tried again but was met with a fist right into his solar plexus. All of the wind left Bill's lungs and he hunched over, trying to drag a breath into his traumatized lungs. He raised his hands to try to forestall any more of a beating, but there was no stopping this pissed off bully.

Bowers grabbed Bill's injured hand and slammed it on the corner of the stall. Bill's mouth opened to scream in pain but it was choked off by the overlarge hand of Belch Huggins, who then grabbed Bill and yanked him off the stall wall and back against his chest. At the same time, Bill felt his hope drop into the pit of his stomach when he heard the lock on the bathroom door click into place, seeming as loud as a gunshot.

Bowers laid into him, hitting him over and over again in the abdomen and chest. Bill closed his eyes, hoping for this beating to end soon, but things took a darker turn when Bowers suddenly went for Bill's pants. He yanked them and his boxers off Bill's pale legs, baring him to all of his bullies.

Apparently, this wasn't part of the plan, as the action was met by questions.

"What the fuck, Henry?" Belch asked, his grip on Bill loosening a little.

"Shut up!" Henry screamed in his face. "Hold him!"

Belch held him tighter, putting an end to Bill's renewed struggles.

"You gonna do some fag shit?" Patrick Hockstetter piped up, not sounding at all against the idea. "Cause if you are, I'm totally okay with it. I've been wanting to do something like this to those Losers for ages!"

"Ew, really?" Victor Criss asked.

"Tell me he doesn't look girly enough to be fuckable!" Hockstetter said, apparently talking about Bill. He was only answered with a noncommittal hum from Criss. Worryingly, it wasn't a denial.

"You're fucking right he does," Bowers agreed, through clenched teeth. "And I think he deserves to be put in his place."

Bill stared wide-eyed at the nasty sneer on Bowers' face as he stepped up and wrapped his hand around Bill's throat, tight enough to make breathing difficult.

"You're my bitch now, Denbrough," Bowers said, smirking in his face. Hockstetter giggled from behind him.

This could not happen!

Bill opened his mouth and bit hard on Huggins' palm, making the bigger of his assailants shout in pain and pull his hand away from the gnashing teeth. There was blood on Bill's mouth when it was freed. Before he could say or do anything, Henry's hand tightened around his throat, so he couldn't breathe at all. Henry's other hand came around in a fist and hit Bill in the side of the head.

Bill's world went off-kilter, his vision graying out at the edges, his ears ringing in his head. He felt Bowers shake him and pull him forward. He felt the spittle hitting his face as he spoke.

"You bite again, and I will knock all of your teeth down your fuckin' throat!" Bowers hissed at him, grinning as he shoved Bill down onto his knees.

He finally let go of Bill's throat so the smaller boy could breathe. Bill coughed hoarsely, absolutely sure that there were going to be finger bruises on his neck. He heard the sound of a zipper and looked up, to be met with Bowers pulling his half-hard cock out of his jeans.

Bill tried to back up away from it but was stopped by Huggins' legs. The larger boy kneeled behind Bill, grabbing his shoulders.

"Open up!" Henry ordered.

"It would be a very bad idea to bite that," Huggins growled in his ear. He grabbed Bill's jaw, trying to pry it open.

Bill had his jaw locked shut, lips pressed together, absolutely refusing to do this for Bowers, or anyone.

Bowers grabbed a handful of Bill's hair and pulled. Hockstetter's hand came in and pinched Bill's nose shut. Bill felt the panic start to well up as Huggins' fingers dug into his cheeks painfully.

"Come on, you little cock sucker, open up!" Hockstetter taunted.

Bill could only hold his breath for so long, and after a solid minute of stubbornness Bill's lips opened. It was enough. Suddenly he was gagging around Bowers' cock, Huggins' hands keeping his mouth open. Bill weakly pushed at Bowers' legs.

Bowers bucked his hips forward a few times.

"Suck!" he commanded.

Bill wanted to shake his head. He wanted to bite down, but he believed that Bowers would, in fact, knock all of his teeth out. He felt tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, which were squeezed shut.

"I can fuck your throat, Denbrough," Bowers growled at him. "But it'll take a lot longer for me to get off that way. Suck me!" Bowers hand twisted in Bill's auburn hair.

Bill refused to do it. He would not surrender everything to Bowers' sick games. All he had left was his pride and a smidgen of dignity and he was determined to keep it!

"Have it your way," Bowers spat, thrusting deep into Bill's throat, cutting off his air. He moaned as he pulled back and went back in even deeper. "You know this whole thing could go so much faster if you just sucked, Denbrough. After all, you have three more cocks to suck. You want to be in this bathroom with us all night? Or maybe you like this?"

"Oh, I'm next!" Patrick chimed in.

Huggins and Criss gave each other looks of uncertainty that were ignored by the other two.

Bill still refused, and Henry sighed, then started fucking Bill's mouth harder.

"Shove your fingers in him," Bowers ordered Huggins, who hesitated long enough for Bowers to scream at him. "Do it!"

Bill felt the hand that wasn't holding his jaw leave his face, then felt an uncertain hand swipe down the crack of his ass and in to press fingers against his hole. Bill's whole body froze up, his eyes snapping open to glare up at Bowers. He reached his good hand back to pull at Huggins' wrist, but he wasn't strong enough to stop him.

"None of that now." Hockstetter stepped up and grabbed both of Bill's wrists, pinning them at the small of his back.

Bill felt Huggins' finger push into him dry and he felt the tears leak out of his eyes as he looked up at a smug Henry Bowers.

Bowers was rock hard now, leaking precum that only made Bill gag when he thrust deep into his throat. Bowers groaned every time he did gag. Bill really wished he had better control over his body's reflexes because Bowers seemed to be enjoying that one.

"This is taking too long," Bowers growled, pulling his spit-slick cock out of Bill's mouth. He grinned when the smaller boy gagged and coughed up his precum.

Bowers kicked Bill in the stomach once, making the smaller boy more pliable, as he reached down and grabbed the hem of Bill's t-shirt and yanked it up to his neck. He bunched the material into something resembling a noose.

Bill's fingers scrabbled at the material, sheer terror on his face, as his air was cut off yet again. Bowers seemed to have a thing for asphyxia.

Now, Bowers was behind him, holding the end of the bunched fabric.

"Nice collar, bitch," Bowers growled in his ear, as he pushed two of his fingers into Bill's ass with nothing but spittle as lube. Bill's scream of pain was silent, as he struggled to draw breath.

The noose finally loosened enough for him to suck in some much-needed air. Bowers shoved Bill down by a hand between his shoulder blades, so his ass was in the air. He wiggled his fingers a little more, loosening Bill's hole up simply because he didn't want to hurt himself.

"Tight," Bowers groaned, pulling his fingers out. He reached down and stroked the mixture of liquids up and down his cock before he finally pressed the tip to Bill's hole.

Bill suddenly lurched forward away from Bowers, but Hockstetter and Huggins grabbed him and pinned him down. Hockstetter grabbed the bunched t-shirt around his neck and pulled, handing the end to Henry, who used it to yank Bill back to him.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" Bowers growled, pressing his tip to his hole again.

Bill's face was turning red from lack of air again, and he couldn't answer Bowers even if he wanted to.

"Henry, you're going to kill him!" Huggins argued.

"So fucking what!" Bowers spat at him. "One less Loser!"

"Well, at least don't kill him so fast," Huggins suggested when really he was going to keep Henry from killing the Loser. He didn't want to be party to that. If Henry wanted to do that shit, he could do it without him!

Bill squeezed his eyes shut. He could not believe this was happening. He felt the noose loosen again, and he coughed out a couple of sobs, tears leaking down his face. He felt Henry push in, tearing his way into Bill's body and mind. Bill screamed. The scream was loud enough to have been heard in the hall and Hockstetter punched him in the face to shut him up. Bill's screams turned to whimpers, as Bowers pulled out and shoved back in.

"Much better!" Bowers groaned, thrusting hard and deep into Bill Denbrough.

Bowers grabbed Bill's hair and yanked his head up to face Criss and Hockstetter. He could barely keep his eyes open and his slack-jawed mouth was bleeding from the blows to his head.

"Use his mouth," Bowers ordered.

Now turned on by the act itself, Criss and Hockstetter fought over who would go first. Hockstetter won the wrestling match and pulled his hard cock out. It was covered in precum, showing that he had been turned on the whole time. He wasted no time in shoving his cock down Bill's throat, groaning in pleasure as he choked the smaller boy and made him gag.

In his addled mind, Bill thought "Fuck pride!" and started sucking Hockstetter.

"Oh, fuck yes!" Hockstetter gasped. "Suck harder!"

"I knew you'd like this, Denbrough," Bowers taunted.

But Bill didn't hear him. Between the medication, he took just before he was attacked and all the blows he took to his head and body, it was a wonder he was even still conscious. Much less understand who was saying what. He just knew he wanted this to end, and he remembered what Bowers said before about things going faster if he sucked.

So Bill sucked, squeezing his eyes shut in pain and humiliation. His broken hand was throbbing from holding himself up. Bowers was fucking him hard and fast, doing most of the work for Hockstetter, who was just kneeling there as Bill's mouth was pulled back and forth over his cock.

Bowers was chanting a litany of "Yes, yes, yes, yes!" It didn't take too long before he came inside Bill, painting Bill's insides. Bill felt the strange warmth filling him, and he wanted to be sick. Bowers just sat there in bliss for a few moments, until he finally pulled out and stared at the sloppy, wet, bloody mess that was Bill's ass.

Bill choked on Hockstetter's release. He felt himself gag but there was a sudden tug on the material around his neck, pulling him backward, away from Hockstetter's cock and against Bowers' chest. The wadded shirt was cutting off his air again and keeping him from puking.

"You keep that down, Billy Boy," Bowers hissed.

Bill weakly reached up to try to loosen the noose around his neck. He glanced around for help, but all he saw were wicked smiles. He looked at Belch, who looked like he was a little green around the gills. Bill reached blindly for the bigger boy, but Bowers pulled the noose tighter.

Belch ran to the stall and puked his guts into the toilet.

"What's the matter, Belch? Too much for you?" Bowers asked scathingly. He finally let go of the noose to let Bill breathe, pulling the shirt from around Bill's neck and discarding it. He was too tempted to strangle the life out of this Loser with the noose around his neck.

Bill gasped in ragged breaths, coughing violently to the sounds of Hockstetter laughing at his pain.

Bowers wrapped his arms around Bill and held him against his chest.

"Hit him!" Bowers ordered, and Hockstetter was only too happy to comply.

He kicked Bill in the abdomen several times, leaving Bill unable to take a decent breath.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"What's going on in there?" Mr. Gray's muffled voice called through the door.

They all froze, terror lighting up Belch and Criss' eyes. They did not want to get caught in here. Bowers pressed his hand to Bill's mouth to keep him from making any noise. Everything just seemed to freeze, except for Mr. Gray's knocking.

The knocking stopped and they heard muffled footsteps fading as their science teacher walked away, presumably to get the key.

They waited until they couldn't hear the footsteps anymore, then Bowers practically threw Bill to the side. Bill landed against the wall, bare, bruised and bloody.

"That's a good look for you, Denbrough," Bowers spat, as he adjusted his pants. He looked at his friends and smirked. "Let's get outta here."

Criss and Belch were the first ones out the door, but Bowers gave Bill a kick to his head as a parting gift and Hockstetter followed his example.

Suddenly, everything was quiet. Bill's world was darkening. He couldn't move, he could barely breathe, his head was pounding and he could feel blood leaking out of his nose.

The last thing Bill remembered seeing was the worried face of Mr. Gray hovering over him, and the last thing he remembered hearing were sirens.

End.



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