FicWad

Pete walked into his room and slammed the door shut.
Fucking hell, I hate that woman.
His history teacher had decided it'd be a fan-fucking-tastic idea to give his class another project. As if they had even done the past assignments. He slung open his backpack and carelessly dumped the day's papers onto his desk, before slumping into his chair.
"I can't believe I've got all this fucking homework, and on a Friday too! Man, I'd sell my soul to the devil if this would get itself done."
"Are you serious? Well, if that's what you want for your soul."
Pete jumped and turned around. The voice was attached to a man who was short in stature. He wore an odd red suit to match the odd red horns protruding from his blonde hair. He stood on one foot, the other kicked in front of him, and he carelessly chewed on the end of a toothpick jutting from his lips.
"Yes?" the man questioned.
Pete just stared. The man rolled his large eyes, obviously used to this type of reaction, and spat out the toothpick. Kicking his foot out, he made his way to Pete's desk, picking out random objects and twirling them in his hands, taking moments to inspect them.
Pete finally shook himself out of his thoughts.
"W-wait, who are you again?"
The man set down his current object of interest and sighed dramatically.
"You should know, you're the one that called for me. You know, I don't like being summoned willy-nilly. But, you're only human, and it wouldn't be very reasonable of me to expect so much of you. Allow me to introduce myself," he announced, stepping in front of Pete, "I, am the devil."
Pete raised his brow. "The devil, huh?" he questioned, barely stifling his giggles.
"Well, for all intents and purposes, you can call me Patrick, since you don't really seem to believe me yet."
Pete kept a straight face for all of seven seconds, before falling forward in a heap of raucous laughter.
"You-you expect me to believe you're actually the devil? As in, ruler of hell and all evil? Sure, okay, okay, that's rich. That's really great, just great. I still have a load of homework to do, and now I've got some sort of madman in here tryi-"
"A madman?! That's insulting, really that's just offensive. I'm the devil and I've come to fulfill your bargain."
Pete sputtered, "M-my bargain?! What are you-"
" 'I can't believe I've got all this fucking homework, and on a Friday too! Man, I'd sell my soul to the devil if this would get itself done.' " Patrick quoted, in a perfect impersonation of a frustrated Pete.
"H-how did you..." Pete struggled to understand. He was so confused, he couldn't comprehend anything anymore. "Y-y-you must have overheard me, w-when you were breaking into my house!"
"Already told you, I'm not crazy. I'm the devil, and when someone offers their soul to me, I've gotta take it." Patrick explained calmly.
"Fine then, do my work for me! Flick your wrist, or snap your fingers, or whatever it is you do, and hold up your end of the deal! Do it, and my soul is yours!" Pete exclaimed, throwing his arms up in a fit of exhaustion.
Patrick smirked and crossed his arms. "Please, that's so cliche'," he retorted, then closed his eyes. He hummed a few bars of a song Pete had never heard, but his range was impressive.
"There ya go, I've fulfilled my end," Patrick remarked. Pete turned and spread out the paperwork. He did it, he actually finished every piece of work I brought home. Behind him, Patrick cleared his throat. "Now, I believe you owe me something."
Pete turned back around to face Patrick, who was busy tapping his foot impatiently. Pete stood up, feeling like the structure in his legs would give out any moment. He was giving his soul to the devil.
"Oh, don't look so scared, it's not as bad as you're making it out to be," Patrick stated, grabbing Pete's wrist and pulling him close. He took Pete's hands in his, closed his eyes, and hummed a tune. It was almost like a lullaby, and Pete started slouching. He jerked awake and stood upright.
"That's it? My soul is yours?" Pete asked, allowing his hands to slip from the other man's.
"That's all there is to it. Your soul remains in your body, but you belong to me." Patrick replied, biting his lip, an action Pete found he couldn't ignore if he tried.
"Well, what do you want me to do?"
Patrick eyed Pete's body and grinned.
"I've got an idea."