Patrick was always a masochist, he loved the feeling of burning himself on his lighter, but it didn't feel as good when it wasn't someone else doing it to him.

That all changed when you joined the Bowers gang.

You were like Patrick in a way, a psychopathic pyromaniac with a thirst for violence, but there was one difference between you and him... You were a sadist.

The day you burnt his skin with your cigarette by accident was the day he made it his mission to get him to burn you more— The pain was exhilarating, it made adrenaline pump through his veins and it felt— So. Damn. Good. He wanted more of it, he wanted that feeling so badly and he wanted it over and over and over again, even if it was sudden or unexpected.

~—♡—~

You and Patrick sat in your room, it looked like a typical teenage bedroom (however you want to imagine a 'typical teenage bedroom' to look like), and you were both smoking. Patrick's midsection was lying on your stomach whilst he looked through one of your personal sectchbooks/journals, the nape of his neck exposed to your view.

Before you had a chance to think about your actions, you looked at your cigarette before pushing the glowing red side into the nape of his neck, burning his skin and causing a yelp to escape from his mouth. It felt good, to both you and him... Him especially.

He turned his head, looking at you as he put his hand on the back of his neck, carefully feeling the burn whilst looking at you with a flushed face— This was unlike him, to look so... embarrassed. Then he smirked, turning his body around so that his back was against your stomach and he was propping himself up by his elbows.

"I didn't think you had it in you to do that, sweetie."

Right, he's still going to mock and tease you. Typical Patrick.