| do they not have pen and paper where you are?| :ihaven'theardfromyouinages:
Done to some prompts from my main journal. :]
Title: Jack's Thoughts, Tyler's Actions
Fandom: Fight Club
Pairing: Tyler Durden/Narrator
Rating: PG-13 to NC-17. [don't read if you're squicked by Fight Club slash.]
Short Summary: Based on the rules of fight club, here are 12 moments in time with the Narrator and Tyler Durden.
1. secrets
I feel Tyler's hands cup my mouth as he pulls me closer to him.
I breathe hard, can't focus as his hand grasps my dick, squeezing.
"Don't tell," he whispers.
2. go without saying
Tyler never says the endearments of the loving kind.
IKEA-boy
Space monkey!
Pisshole.
Psycho-Boy.
He had no need for it.
3. one to the other
I flop down on the bed, drunk and tired. Bumps
from the bed grind into my back, but all I can think of is:
Where are you, Tyler?
Of course, he doesn't answer. He doesn't need me like I need him.
4. cool down
He lets him down, pulling out of him as gently as he can manage.
("I don't want to go to fight club tonight."
"Oh?")
He pulls down Tyler, aching everywhere as usual, the hole in his cheek
hurting as much as it ever has and he can't seem to care.
("I want something else."
"Don't you mean someone?")
Tyler's tongue cleans tears, sweat, and blood from his face an then some.
("I want you."
"All you have to do is ask.")
5. naked
"Dammit, shower's not working,"
"Then climb in,"
"What?!"
"Climb. In. It's not that hard,"
"Bu-- what the hell?!"
"See? Not that bad, is it, IKEA-boy."
"Bastard,"
"Shut up and pass the soap."
6. prolonged effects
In heaven, he still knows he's there.
He can feel him, watching him in the showers, watching
him in 'recess', watching him lie to God, watching him cry in
his bunk and watching him sleep.
But that's not enough.
He wants Tyler's words in his ear, his smell to wash over him
but most of all, his touch on his skin, be it a fist or just a hand touching him
in that vague caring kind of way that he thinks is a dream.
He can't get rid of it, no matter what he does, no matter what God says.
7. first time
"Hit me as hard as you can."
("Fuck me.")
He hits like in every cowboy movie.
(He looks nervous as a teenage virgin, and not a thirty year old man
with punched-out piss holes to see through and half a demon's mile for a face, but there he was.)
"Aw, fuck! Why the neck!?"
("Get the hell over here, then,")
A fist connects with the stomach.
(A kiss underneath his ear, teeth come to bite as an arm pulls him closer.)
They've never been here before, but they want to go further.
("More?"
"Yes.")
8. come with me
Vinegar splashes on the refrigerator and his hand.
I let go and he collapses, still crying like I am
He looks up, wounding animal look, and croaks out,
"Thank you,"
9. don't talk
God says that talking about it will make it better.
But God doesn't understand.
I know that if I talk about Tyler, that I won't see him
again.
I know better now.
I can still see him, between meals of pink, blue, and yellow. Cigarette smoke wisps,
flash of red shades, leather jacket.
Sometimes, he talks in my ear, but not for long.
So I don't talk.
I let God talk so I don't have to.
He's the only one who really matters in this
white on white heaven.
10. just do it.
He holds the gun in hand steadily.
Soap and Human Sacrifice go hand in hand.
Raymond K. Hessel sobs harder.
Without them, we would be nothing.
He wavers for a moment, only one moment.
Then he remembers, and it's as if Tyler is there.
"Trust me,"
He can practically feel Tyler's lips on his ear.
He goes on.
11. tell me the truth
Tyler glares at him coolly, looming over him.
His back is on the soft hotel bed for a single-serving life he'd never wanted, eyes wide.
"I'm not you,"
Tyler smiles, animal predator smile that reveal fangs that weren't there before but were
always there.
"Don't be too sure,"
12. i know
He knows.
He remembers, two halves that are really one.
He knows, but he doesn't want to.
He fixes his eyes on Tyler and pulls the trigger.
Title: Jack's Thoughts, Tyler's Actions
Fandom: Fight Club
Pairing: Tyler Durden/Narrator
Rating: PG-13 to NC-17. [don't read if you're squicked by Fight Club slash.]
Short Summary: Based on the rules of fight club, here are 12 moments in time with the Narrator and Tyler Durden.
1. secrets
I feel Tyler's hands cup my mouth as he pulls me closer to him.
I breathe hard, can't focus as his hand grasps my dick, squeezing.
"Don't tell," he whispers.
2. go without saying
Tyler never says the endearments of the loving kind.
IKEA-boy
Space monkey!
Pisshole.
Psycho-Boy.
He had no need for it.
3. one to the other
I flop down on the bed, drunk and tired. Bumps
from the bed grind into my back, but all I can think of is:
Where are you, Tyler?
Of course, he doesn't answer. He doesn't need me like I need him.
4. cool down
He lets him down, pulling out of him as gently as he can manage.
("I don't want to go to fight club tonight."
"Oh?")
He pulls down Tyler, aching everywhere as usual, the hole in his cheek
hurting as much as it ever has and he can't seem to care.
("I want something else."
"Don't you mean someone?")
Tyler's tongue cleans tears, sweat, and blood from his face an then some.
("I want you."
"All you have to do is ask.")
5. naked
"Dammit, shower's not working,"
"Then climb in,"
"What?!"
"Climb. In. It's not that hard,"
"Bu-- what the hell?!"
"See? Not that bad, is it, IKEA-boy."
"Bastard,"
"Shut up and pass the soap."
6. prolonged effects
In heaven, he still knows he's there.
He can feel him, watching him in the showers, watching
him in 'recess', watching him lie to God, watching him cry in
his bunk and watching him sleep.
But that's not enough.
He wants Tyler's words in his ear, his smell to wash over him
but most of all, his touch on his skin, be it a fist or just a hand touching him
in that vague caring kind of way that he thinks is a dream.
He can't get rid of it, no matter what he does, no matter what God says.
7. first time
"Hit me as hard as you can."
("Fuck me.")
He hits like in every cowboy movie.
(He looks nervous as a teenage virgin, and not a thirty year old man
with punched-out piss holes to see through and half a demon's mile for a face, but there he was.)
"Aw, fuck! Why the neck!?"
("Get the hell over here, then,")
A fist connects with the stomach.
(A kiss underneath his ear, teeth come to bite as an arm pulls him closer.)
They've never been here before, but they want to go further.
("More?"
"Yes.")
8. come with me
Vinegar splashes on the refrigerator and his hand.
I let go and he collapses, still crying like I am
He looks up, wounding animal look, and croaks out,
"Thank you,"
9. don't talk
God says that talking about it will make it better.
But God doesn't understand.
I know that if I talk about Tyler, that I won't see him
again.
I know better now.
I can still see him, between meals of pink, blue, and yellow. Cigarette smoke wisps,
flash of red shades, leather jacket.
Sometimes, he talks in my ear, but not for long.
So I don't talk.
I let God talk so I don't have to.
He's the only one who really matters in this
white on white heaven.
10. just do it.
He holds the gun in hand steadily.
Soap and Human Sacrifice go hand in hand.
Raymond K. Hessel sobs harder.
Without them, we would be nothing.
He wavers for a moment, only one moment.
Then he remembers, and it's as if Tyler is there.
"Trust me,"
He can practically feel Tyler's lips on his ear.
He goes on.
11. tell me the truth
Tyler glares at him coolly, looming over him.
His back is on the soft hotel bed for a single-serving life he'd never wanted, eyes wide.
"I'm not you,"
Tyler smiles, animal predator smile that reveal fangs that weren't there before but were
always there.
"Don't be too sure,"
12. i know
He knows.
He remembers, two halves that are really one.
He knows, but he doesn't want to.
He fixes his eyes on Tyler and pulls the trigger.