gay fight club

Paper street

"What? That's crazy!"
"Go crazy then."
I thought about it.
I mean, if it was his only requirement for me to sleep at his place, I could do it.
"Okay." I prepared myself.
"Where?"
"Surprise me." He replied.

I've only been in a fight once before that, in highschool. I was already a senior and it was around a week before graduating. I don't remember what exactly caused the fight, but i knew how it went, like it was yesterday.
My good friend, Adam, started it with hitting a popular guy, Derek, in the face.
I tried to stop them, but Derek just ended up beating me. Everyone was scared of him, so they just stood there. In the end it was pretty bad, i still have a scar from it. Derek had a pocket knife on him. I think that's self explanatory.

When Tyler asked me to hit him, i immediately thought of this fight.
I didn't know how to fight, though.
So i just went with my gut.

"Hey, uhm, i don't really know if this is a good idea," I said. Like my gut told me to.
"Oh come on, how much can you know about yourself if you've never been in a fight? If you have no scars?"

Ironically, i have (been in) both.

i laughed.

I am Jack's doom-laden laugh.

I heard the sick desperation in it more then ever.

"What, have you been in a fight before? You don't look like the type of guy who gets involved in fights." said Tyler.
"I've only been in one fight-" I said back.
"What? You've been in more fights than me? I can't belive that. You have to be joking." He spat.
"You look like the guy that gets in fights weekly. You seriously weren't in any?"
"Nope. Would be a first. Not the guy to start fights."
Once i heard that come out of his mouth, I felt like I had to do something.

So I hit him.
In the ear.
I was originaly aiming for his face.
I guess i missed.

"Ow, what the fuck?"
I stood there, in silence.
"Why the ear man, why the fucking ear?!?" Tyler roared.
I sensed it wasn't so bad. I mean- I've never seen anybody punch someone in the ear before in movies and such, and those fights were pretty severe.
After Tyler's pain had passed, he practically flew towards me and punched me hard in the stomach.

I really wasn't expecting that.

"Fuck! Why did you fucking do that?" I screeched.
"I mean, I had to punch you back man. That's just the rules." He said, smirking smugly.

After those two hits, it turned into a full-on  fight.
I wasn't keeping track of the time, but if i guessed I would say it lasted about forty-five minutes at least.

I enjoyed every second of it. The adrenaline pumping through my body was like something I've never felt before, something that couldn't be topped.
I would even dare to say that Tyler liked it too.

After the fight, both of us covered in blood, we were sitting on the pavement, sharing another beer.

I couldn't help but say:
"We should definitely do this again."
"Of course." Tyler said, smirking in that smug way again.
We exchanged glances. I saw his amazing blue eyes again. I drowned.
Until he looked down, to his watch.
"Fuck, it's midnight again. Shift starts early tomorrow.

Tyler sometimes worked in a cinema, switching out tapes. Let's go." Tyler immediately got up and took my hand. I felt that familiar feeling of a knot being tied in my stomach.
Probably because i lost so much blood.

When we arrived at paper street, it was exactly what i had expected, but also the exact opposite.
A run-down, three story house that looked like if you farted too hard inside it would fall apart.
It was very weird at first, but with the passing of time i got used to it.
No TV,
Two fridges, only one working, and that one was full of soap an supplies to make it,
Power that would only work if it wasn't turned on in any other room,
And the house at a state where it was practically falling apart.

Even though my apartment had exploded, i was still required to go to work on a daily basis.
My boring office job, where now that i had met Tyler, the only thing that i was doing, was thinking about our next fight.
Me and Tyler got hooked.
We were fighting almost every day now.
It was better and better every time.

I am Jack's disgusting obsession.

I guess it was a replacement for all the support groups I wasn't going to anymore.

I started going to work all bruised and patched up,
The first couple of weeks nobody said anything,
But about in the middle of the third week people started asking me if I was okay, if I needed a hand.
To be honest i got kind of a sick thrill from it.

One night I was walking from work to the bus stop, and i saw a familiar figure.
A feminine one. Walking out of a building that i also recognized. The blood parasite support group.
Once i realized who this familiar woman was, it was already too late.
She was walking up to me, fur coat on, cigarette in hand.

Marla.

"Hey." She looked up at me after lightning her cigarette.
"Hi. Do you need anything?" I got straight to the point.
"Why haven't you been going to support groups? And also, where do you live now?" She interrogated me.
"Well, I haven't been going to support groups because I found something better, and-"
"What is it? Have you gotten into drinking?" She asked, smiling ear to ear.
"No. It's men only."
"What, like testicle cancer?"
I didn't bother answering.
I just left, towards the bus stop.
I could sense she was following me.
"You didn't answer my second question. Where do you live now?"
"How do you know I live somwhere else?" I turned around to look at her.
"You haven't been watching the news, haven't you."
She knew the answer.
"I live on Paper street now-" I quickly answered as I heard the bus pull up.
I jumped in it and watched a blurry image of Marla slowly drift away through the window covered in rain drops.
When I got home, I saw someone fighting infront of our house. My first instinct was to shoo them away, but as i got closer I saw Tyler in that cherry red leather jacket.
I carefully observed the group.
It was five men, one of them Tyler, two of them looked like they were in their late twenties and the other two were probably in their thirties.
Once everybody took their turns fighting and the fight ended, I went inside, Tyler shortly after me.
I pressed my hands against the kitchen island and turned my head toward Tyler, him wiping the blood of his forehead.
What was that? You can't just invite four people to fight in front of our house!" I told him.
"It's my house." He spoke.
That remark stung.
"Okay, but that didn't answer my question," I managed to blurt out.
"Oh come on, it's fun. A group of people with our shared interest? What could go wrong? It could be like a club. A fight club."