Fic: The Realm of You, 3/?
Title: The Realm of You
Part: 3/?
Genre: Big Time Rush - Drama / Angst
Pairings: Logan/Kendall, Kendall/Jo
Details: AU, Slash
Rating: MA/NC17
Warnings: Dark themes, sexual content in later parts
Post Word Count: 748
Status: WIP
Summary: From friendship, to love, to something else entirely. When secrets are all they have, what is left when their lives become an open book? "I have no life but this."
Masterlist
Warning: This chapter contains mild self harm and dark thoughts concerning suicide and starvation. Don't read if these things are a trigger for you.
The water is cold now, and Kendall turns the tap back on, full heat, and lets the excess liquid escape through the overflow drains. The floor is soaked and he doesn't care. The room fills with steam.
He takes a sip of his light beer, swallows down some kind of pill. Whatever it is, he doesn't care; he only knows it will help make him numb.
The tub is so large he can stretch out, float on his back and watch the heat rise. His left hand rests over his heart, the other on his stomach. Empty, empty, empty. His fingers begin whispering across his chest, his abdomen, and he begins counting his ribs on each side.
One, two, three, four, five, six. One two, three, four, five, six. Onetwothreefourfivesix.
He's been starving so long, he almost feels full, the time only counted by how long he can go without eating, distance only measured by the space between his thighs. Everything is out of control, spinning, twirling, flying away.
This, he can control.
One, two, three...
Logan's eyes, like bottomless pits, dark as his hair. How far away is he now?
Four, five, six.
Kendall's phone rings,
You mean most to me,
We will keep each other safe from harm,
Kendall hates the song. He throws shampoo bottles, various lotions and bath items, at the offending phone until he knocks it off the countertop. It hits the marble floor with a satisfying crack and the ringing stops.
A few moments later, it starts again,
When I search my heart, it's you I find,
My beloved one,
Dragging himself from the tub, he cries out, his entire body pained and aching. The very air against his skin hurts. Kendall grabs the phone, glares at Logan's name as it burns into his eyes with the bright backlight of the phone. He resists the urge to fling the gadget into the water and sends the call to voicemail. He stands and waits, watching it, seeing if there will be anything left.
He waits and waits and waits.
Making his way back, he lowers himself into the water slowly, slowly, the bottom of the tub unforgiving against the bones protruding from his skin.
Another pill, another swig and he sinks into the water again, attempting to warm himself back up. He's always cold now.
One, two, three...
After what seems like hours, his cell phone beeps.
1 New Voicemail, it proclaims happily. Kendall stares at it, wondering if it mocks him or if he's just imagining it.
Four, five, six.
Gingerly, he places the phone back down. He takes a deep breath and goes under the water's surface. He stays there until his lungs burn, survival instinct screaming at him to surface. Trying to ignore it, Kendall stays under, his mouth opening involuntarily and taking a gulp of tepid liquid. His head shoots above water and he gasps.
Now, he glances at his disposable razor, picks it up and takes in the seemingly innocuous blue and gray plastic, the tiny, dull blades. He presses it against the inside of his wrist, not harshly, and watches as a tiny point of red rises up, mixes with the beads of water on his skin, creates a pink blob on his arm. Kendall knows, if he really wanted to end it this way, he should make slashes down the highway, not across the street. He puts the the razor aside, allowing his arm to fall in the water as the blood makes swirling patterns, like smoke.
With his free hand, he picks up the phone, calls his voicemail.
Kendall, it's Logan.
Like Kendall wouldn't recognize Logan's voice, even angry words sounding like the sweetest wind in the trees, seven notes of fine-tuned music. Kendall sighs.
Listen, I know you've not been so happy lately. I know you're not eating, and I don't know why.
Logan takes a deep breath on the message, pauses. Kendall can almost imagine the brunette's hand going through his hair, massaging his temple.
This was what you wanted, right? I just... I can't help but... This is what you wanted.
He stops again. Kendall wants to scream, No, it's not what I wanted. None of this is.
Look, I still worry about you. A long pause, a shift and a crackle, a sigh. If you don't call me back in five minutes, I'm calling Jo.
Kendall looks at the time just as he hears a knock on the bathroom door.
Onetwothreefourfivesix.
Part 2 Part 4
Part: 3/?
Genre: Big Time Rush - Drama / Angst
Pairings: Logan/Kendall, Kendall/Jo
Details: AU, Slash
Rating: MA/NC17
Warnings: Dark themes, sexual content in later parts
Post Word Count: 748
Status: WIP
Summary: From friendship, to love, to something else entirely. When secrets are all they have, what is left when their lives become an open book? "I have no life but this."
Masterlist
Warning: This chapter contains mild self harm and dark thoughts concerning suicide and starvation. Don't read if these things are a trigger for you.
The water is cold now, and Kendall turns the tap back on, full heat, and lets the excess liquid escape through the overflow drains. The floor is soaked and he doesn't care. The room fills with steam.
He takes a sip of his light beer, swallows down some kind of pill. Whatever it is, he doesn't care; he only knows it will help make him numb.
The tub is so large he can stretch out, float on his back and watch the heat rise. His left hand rests over his heart, the other on his stomach. Empty, empty, empty. His fingers begin whispering across his chest, his abdomen, and he begins counting his ribs on each side.
One, two, three, four, five, six. One two, three, four, five, six. Onetwothreefourfivesix.
He's been starving so long, he almost feels full, the time only counted by how long he can go without eating, distance only measured by the space between his thighs. Everything is out of control, spinning, twirling, flying away.
This, he can control.
One, two, three...
Logan's eyes, like bottomless pits, dark as his hair. How far away is he now?
Four, five, six.
Kendall's phone rings,
You mean most to me,
We will keep each other safe from harm,
Kendall hates the song. He throws shampoo bottles, various lotions and bath items, at the offending phone until he knocks it off the countertop. It hits the marble floor with a satisfying crack and the ringing stops.
A few moments later, it starts again,
When I search my heart, it's you I find,
My beloved one,
Dragging himself from the tub, he cries out, his entire body pained and aching. The very air against his skin hurts. Kendall grabs the phone, glares at Logan's name as it burns into his eyes with the bright backlight of the phone. He resists the urge to fling the gadget into the water and sends the call to voicemail. He stands and waits, watching it, seeing if there will be anything left.
He waits and waits and waits.
Making his way back, he lowers himself into the water slowly, slowly, the bottom of the tub unforgiving against the bones protruding from his skin.
Another pill, another swig and he sinks into the water again, attempting to warm himself back up. He's always cold now.
One, two, three...
After what seems like hours, his cell phone beeps.
1 New Voicemail, it proclaims happily. Kendall stares at it, wondering if it mocks him or if he's just imagining it.
Four, five, six.
Gingerly, he places the phone back down. He takes a deep breath and goes under the water's surface. He stays there until his lungs burn, survival instinct screaming at him to surface. Trying to ignore it, Kendall stays under, his mouth opening involuntarily and taking a gulp of tepid liquid. His head shoots above water and he gasps.
Now, he glances at his disposable razor, picks it up and takes in the seemingly innocuous blue and gray plastic, the tiny, dull blades. He presses it against the inside of his wrist, not harshly, and watches as a tiny point of red rises up, mixes with the beads of water on his skin, creates a pink blob on his arm. Kendall knows, if he really wanted to end it this way, he should make slashes down the highway, not across the street. He puts the the razor aside, allowing his arm to fall in the water as the blood makes swirling patterns, like smoke.
With his free hand, he picks up the phone, calls his voicemail.
Kendall, it's Logan.
Like Kendall wouldn't recognize Logan's voice, even angry words sounding like the sweetest wind in the trees, seven notes of fine-tuned music. Kendall sighs.
Listen, I know you've not been so happy lately. I know you're not eating, and I don't know why.
Logan takes a deep breath on the message, pauses. Kendall can almost imagine the brunette's hand going through his hair, massaging his temple.
This was what you wanted, right? I just... I can't help but... This is what you wanted.
He stops again. Kendall wants to scream, No, it's not what I wanted. None of this is.
Look, I still worry about you. A long pause, a shift and a crackle, a sigh. If you don't call me back in five minutes, I'm calling Jo.
Kendall looks at the time just as he hears a knock on the bathroom door.
Onetwothreefourfivesix.
Part 2 Part 4