Work Text:
Thinking about colour doesn’t make it any prettier.
The bruise is turning a brownish-yellow, the last stage of healing. Just above my left eye, over the split eyebrow.
You should add another one, on the right side. Make them look like devils’ horns, symmetrical. It could be funny; bruises aren’t supposed to look symmetrical. Cuts as well. They should be jagged, raising on your skin, cutting deep, deep, deeper, until you can reach inside and pull yourself out again.
Tyler is standing behind me, leaning against the doorframe, watching, as I feel and poke at the wound.
I had planned on washing out the blood from my white shirt, but the mission got lost somewhere between stumbling through the apartment door, tearing myself out of the stained clothes, leaving me only in my dirty, stained underwear, and me hunching over the bathroom sink, unsure if I am going to vomit or faint or smash my nose against the mirror.
Maybe Tyler is going to make that decision for me. If he feels helpful, he will take that dirty shirt from my bloodied hands and toss it into the trash bin. If he doesn’t, he will do something else.
Which he does.
Tyler slowly walks over to me, stopping by my side.
With his cold finger he prods between my ribs, pressing into a new, fresh bruise. Digging into the tender skin. Blue-ish green.
“Do you feel that?”
I do, I say.
Tyler prods deeper with his knuckle. Maybe he thinks he can drill up, through my skin and ribcage and lugs and everything else that’s in the way, just to reach my heart.
I look at him.
Tyler’s eyes raise up, meeting mine. There is that hunger again. That thirst.
“Turn around.”
Why?
"Because I fucking said so.", Tyler says and grabs me by my hip, spinning me around and pushing me to the side, hard.
Tyler Durden is my friend.
Tyler kicks my legs out of under me and I stagger. I fall. I crash.
Having changed his mind, he forces me over the rim of the empty bathtub instead, the cold ceramic pushing into my naked stomach and swollen ribs. I cough.
Tyler.
“Yeah?”, he asks, but doesn’t listen. He is behind me, his weight on top of me. His strong chest pressing against my back, rough hands holding me down.
You’re hard.
“Well, you’re really a smart one, aren’t you?”
Tyler laughs, and shoves my legs further apart with his knee.
Half of my body is hanging over the cold bathtub, hands scrambling for hold, while my knees uselessly slide over the cracked tiles on the bathroom floor.
Tyler’s hand is on the back of my neck, pushing my face further down against the bottom of the tub, the other on my hip.
“Is the drain plug in?”
Wh- why?, I sputter.
“Is it or is it not?”
Tyler’s voice is cold, and I know that he stopped playing a while ago.
I just nod, looking at the black rubber stopper.
Although I can’t see him behind me, I know that he smiles, as he reaches over my body, his weight forcing the air out of my lungs. His hard cock is pressed against my ass, and I try everything, but to think about it. Which works, somehow.
Tyler turns the faucet on.
Ice cold, stale, muddy water from the old pipes sprays into the tub, getting my hands wet and slippy. I try to hold myself up, but Tyler just pushes my face further down, until my cheek meets the unforgiving, wet ceramic of the bottom of the tub.
The water is quickly rising, and I sputter, when cold water enters my open mouth, as I gasp from the sudden sensation of Tyler’s hand on my cock. He must have dragged down my underwear just now, without me noticing, and really, when I try to shuffle under Tyler’s heavy body, I can feel the shorts getting caught at my knees, where they meet the ground.
To Tyler, it must look like as if I am shaking my ass for him. He squeezes my cock harder, and that’s the moment in which I am realizing that all of this is really happening. I am getting hard under Tyler’s touch, as he is about to drown me in the tub, or take me raw from behind, or both.
I am Jack's dirty arousal.
“You like that, don’t you?”
The cold water meets my nose and I jerk, trying to turn my face away, but he doesn’t let me.
Tyler. Tyler.
“I asked you a question.”
Tyler doesn’t like to repeat himself more often than he has to. His grip on my neck is straining, and I know, that there will be bruised imprints of fingertips the next morning. Maybe I won’t even get to live until then, I try to tell myself.
I want to say no. Every time Tyler does something like this, I want to say no, but never do. Tyler is always right. Life has no meaning without pain. Time has no meaning without pain. I have no meaning without pain.
The first time, he just beat me half senseless and then simply threw we over the nearest table and jerked me off, rough and fast, until I came in his hand. He didn’t even fuck me then. Still, even that had hurt. The times after that, he continues to jerk me off, he blows me, he makes me come in the most deranged, sweetest type of way, time after time. He doesn’t stop because I never ask him to stop.
I know that this time this won’t be enough for him. Today, he is going to fuck me, or drown me, or both, and I am here for it. Sex and fighting are practically the same thing, he once told me.
I wonder if he knows that he was the only person to ever touch me like this. I wonder if he knows that I am a virgin.
Tyler gropes me harder, no skill or finesse. Just raw power over my body as I twitch and jerk under him, not knowing if I want to get away from him or get closer.
Please, I say. Please do it, or please don’t, I don’t care. Just do something, and I will be glad. Make me yours.
“You are mine.”
The water is flowing into my nose and mouth, and I gurgle, trying to spit it out again, but there is a constant, new rush of water. I swallow some accidently and cough and spit, but it just keeps coming. Water. Water. Water.
It is getting difficult to breathe.
I am going to die, I think. Like this, alone, in a shabby apartment, with my cock, balls and ass exposed to the world, hanging over the rim of the bathtub like an absolute idiot.
Tyler’s hand has decided to finally give in and starts to move up and down my cock. He pumps me with his fist and twists his wrist in just the right way, and there is this certain heat starting to coil in my stomach.
My bare toes curl but when I want to moan, I just end up swallowing more water. My whole face is submerged by now, water is reaching up to my ears. I know that Tyler is saying something, but don’t understand his words.
Any possible pleasure is overshadowed by the fact that my life is now in my best friend’s hands.
Even if you try to hold still, you can’t. Your body goes into panic mode, as soon as your brain starts to spread the message that you are about to suffocate. My lungs burn. Water around me and in me, and everywhere. I try to tear myself out of Tyler’s grip, but he doesn’t let go.
I spasm under him, trembling and shoulders shaking. There is dirty water on the tiles.
Tyler lets go of my cock. Then there is a blunt pressure against my hole. Something enters me, maybe a fingertip and I cry out. Right away, I swallow more water.
My chest feels as if I am about to explode.
I am going to die in ten.
Nine.
More of Tyler, that forces itself into me, more of the finger, or maybe already two.
Death commences in eight.
I gurgle under water and jerk my head, trying to come up for air. The hand on my neck doesn’t let me.
Seven.
Tyler is about to kill me, with half of his hand shoved up my ass. The stretch hurts. Tyler hurts. Dying hurts.
Six.
My head aches so much, and my lungs burn. I buckle under him, trying to heave my head out of the water, but I just force myself further down onto his fingers, stretching me out so good, good, good, that I want to cry because of the immense pain that is swallowing my whole body. My lungs hurt. My ass hurts. My stomach, my head, my ribs, my knees, my back and my cramped hands, everything hurts.
Five.
The hand slips out of me, and in the next moment I know that that’s the tip of Tyler’s cock pressing against my entrance.
Four.
Tyler shoves into me with a single, rough push and my whole body jerks as I scream underwater. I lose any hold I had left on the tub and my whole upper body rocks forward, slipping more into the icy water.
Three.
I raise my stupid, useless arm and wave it around, trying to signal him that we are in my last few seconds of life. Tyler just drags his cock out of me and plunges forward again, spearing me onto himself.
Two.
Tyler, it was nice knowing you, I want to say, but I just gurgle a weak urgh-lugh. I try a last time to get his attention and sway my arm behind me.
I manage to elbow him into his ribs, apparently with more strength then there rationally should be in a dying body, and in the next moment the hand on my neck is gone.
I raise my head up and suddenly I can breathe again. I gasp for air, again and again and again.
I’m alive. I didn’t die. Not yet.
When I turn around, I can see Tyler lying on the bathroom floor behind me. He tries to get up again, and scrambles towards me, but I just jump on top of him, striking him down with my balled fist. His lip splits, drops of blood fall to the ground and he groans. I know that the inside of my thighs is also red. We ruffle together, naked, wet bodies pressed against each other.
Tyler brings his own fist up again, and punches me into the face. The world sways and the side of my head meets the cold floor with a clung. My temple is bleeding. Everything is turning. I want to vomit.
“You don’t understand.”, Tyler spits, reaching up, for my wrists, dragging me closer to him.
“You don’t fucking understand.”
Please, I beg weakly and blink, trying to get my eyes to focus again.
Tyler is on top of me again, positioning himself between my legs, forcing my knees apart and up, folding me in half.
“If you wouldn’t want this, you wouldn’t still be hard.”, he rationalizes.“Yet, you are. Just look at yourself. What would Marla say?”
He’s right, just like always. My cock still stands proudly, hard and needy, tip red and leaking. As if to prove his own point, Tyler leans down and gives it a quick kiss, a little lick with his tongue and I moan, loud and high, like a girl. I know he likes that.
Tyler smacks my inner thigh and I jump. There is a red imprint on it and I stare at it, stare at Tyler as he is about to stretch me again, just so that he can make his dick fit. His finger are inside me again before I can say anything and my mouth drops open, feeling again that delicious, burning sensation. He crooks them deep inside me, brushing against that special spot and I see stars.
“You like that, psycho boy? Wanna hit rock bottom with me?”
Yes, I gasp.
God yes, Tyler.
I realize that he is using my blood as lube, when he pushes a third finger in. He has torn me in two and he is not going to stop, unless I am going to ask him to stop. Which I am not. I could never do such a thing.
Tyler, you have every right to tear me apart. Tear me in two, tear me in ten, tear me into a million little pieces.
Tyler backhands me with his hand and my lower lip splits, as my head rocks to the side, against the tiles. Now we look like twins, I think and have to laugh.
His fingers are roughly drawn out of me and for a long, torturous second, I am empty. Then he shoves his cock inside me. I howl, bracing against the cold, dirty tiles of the bathroom, smeared with dirt and blood, arching my back under him.
“Say it.”
Fuck me, I let out.
Tyler, fuck me.
Tyler slowly drags his cock out and pistons back inside me. It hurts so much that I scream again. How can he possibly be so deep inside me?
Having sex with Tyler is like an reverse exorcism. Something menacing, something evil and otherworldly is driven back into my body, so rough and forceful, that I am breaking apart. He tears at my soul, my body, my mind.
In nominum patri, I think, lips quivering.
“Yeah, yeah and the son and the holy spirit too.”, Tyler grits out and rocks forward again. His cock is now bumping into that special spot deep inside me, and again, I can’t breathe. This is dying, all over again.
Tyler is my killer and Tyler is my saviour. Tyler is everything I have right now.
His hips snap against mine, over and over again, the sound of moans, grunts and skin slapping skin is in the air. I can smell blood, sweat and ozone, so sharp that it stings my nose. My hands fly to my leaking cock, the need to come is taking any rationality away.
But Tyler bats them away, gripping both my wrists in one of his hands, and forces them up, over my own head.
“Don’t touch yourself unless I fucking tell you.”, he curses, and his movements turn even faster.
In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.
Please, Tyler, please. Deliver me. Send me to heaven. I’ll tell the angels all about you and make them sing your name. You’re my messiah.
“Oh no, psycho boy. I am dragging you with me, straight to hell.”
Whatever, I think. At least we’re going together.
Tyler laughs, as if I just told him a sick joke, and flips me over again, onto my stomach. Before I can search for hold, he once more shoves into me, pinning me down like a butterfly under him. My hands above my head, legs wide apart, bleeding face smushed against the tiles. My cock is trapped between the ground and my belly, and I just want to come, rocking with his every move against the cold ground.
Please, Tyler, just let me come. Let me come or let me die in peace.
“Why not both?”, Tyler asks, murmuring into my ear, and I can feel his hand in my hair. He raises my head up, just a couple of inches and then lets me drop back onto the tiles. I am too weak to stop him or catch myself. My nose hurts. My ass hurts, my lungs are still recovering and Tyler bites into my shoulder, so hard that he pierces skin and draws more blood.
I start to cry.
Tyler grabs my waist and hurls me up, like a ragdoll, so that I am on all fours, and his weight all over on top of me, impairing me further onto his cock. I am staked like a fucking vampire and my shaking arms give in. I drop to elbows and knees, and try my best.
I really do, Tyler, please believe me.
His rhythm falters, he staggers. I can feel his thick cock pulse inside me and I know that he is about to come. A last time, I chant his name, begging him.
Save me, Tyler. Save me.
“Together, then?”, I can hear him behind me and I just nod, shaking my head as best as I can as an answer.
Tyler’s hand is back on my cock, and with a few strokes, I am sent flying. Nothing but me and Tyler exist. Just us, forever. White explodes behind my eyes.
I am Jacks mind-wrecking orgasm.
Tyler comes inside me with a groan, emptying himself somewhere deep inside my hole.
New age baptism, I think.
For a last time, my body gives up and I fall onto the tiles, straight onto my face. Alright, now my nose surely is broken.
Tyler is still on top of me, still inside me, and I just wish I could turn off the constant buzzing.
I am done.
Please, no more.
My eyes roll back and then I am gone.
When I wake up, I am alone, cowering on the dirty tiles in the bathroom. There is water all around me, at least three inches of it, on the ground and I hear the constant shuooosh of the water, running from the faucet. I try to get up, but my trembling legs or arms can’t hold me.
Something is still inside me.
On the third try, I manage to sit up, and something slips out of me, into the water.
The buzz dies after a few last gurgles, stopping at last.
Huh. The vibrating dildo wasn’t so waterproof after all.
Somehow, I can crawl over to the bathtub and turn the water off. With my back, I sink against the bathtub, and raise my knees, up to my chest. I stay like that, in the flooded bathroom for quite a while.
Tyler finds me like that, in the morning. He offers me a beer.
Who drinks before he even had breakfast?
“Dunno.”, Tyler says.
“Wouldn’t put it past you.”
I try to laugh at the joke, but it sounds horrible.
Tyler just shrugs his shoulders.
“You know where to find me, in case you need me.”
No, I don’t, I want to say. I wish I knew.
Where is Tyler going when he leaves me?
Where can I find him, when I get lost?
Tyler, I whisper.
My friend just looks back at me.
Will you be back?
Now Tyler grins.
"Of course. I would never leave of dreaming you."
I open and close my mouth a couple of times, wanting to say that Tyler must have mixed up the words, but I cannot really will my tongue to speak for me. My temple is still bleeding.
I am Jack's body, slowly loosing conciousness, due to blood loss.
I should probably get to the hospital, I think.
"Don't worry, you still have an hour or two. Still enough time.", Tyler says calmingly, as he walkes over to me, and sinks down onto his knees onto the wet floor. He cradles my head in his strong hands and kisses the bruise on my forehead, almost lovingly.
"Got you good, huh?"
Ha, I let out. We should call Marla.
"Later.", Tyler shushes me gently.
I look at him, at his beautiful, scarred and bruised features and just know that I am smiling brightly, like a love-struck idiot.
Alright, I wisper and close my eyes.