Clique II: Tyler, The Creator

17. Right There

I watched as Tyler walked inside the tour bus. I was already sitting by Wyatt. Fuck, I couldn't even think straight from what had happened. I knew he'd try to play around after last night.

Everyone was quiet, after all, it was morning. Tyler sat in the couch in front of me, as usual.
I texted him.

morning.
-me, 9:32 am

I watched as he continued on his phone. I wondered if he saw it.

u left last night, are you okay?
-me, 9:36 am

I watched as he put his phone down, sighing as he began falling asleep. Fuck, he was definitely ignoring me.

...

The venue was close, it was only a few hours this time. Tyler began waking up, and so did everyone else. I was the only one up. I had a million things in my head keeping me from resting.

As the bus began parking, we saw the crowd already waiting outside. I was always in awe that people everywhere had such a huge connection with him.

Tyler got up, following behind Jasper and Taco. He wasn't his usual self this time. He was quiet, and everyone noticed.

"What's going on with him?" Wyatt asked, as he walked behind me.

I shrugged.

"He's been like that all morning," I stated.

There were so many people working backstage this time, we got there a little earlier than usual, so people were still fixing up the stage. I lost sight of Tyler inside the crowd. Luckily, it wasn't hard finding him again. I wanted to talk to him so badly again.

"What's going on?" I asked T, coming from behind him.

He looked down on me expressionless, without a word.

"Here, go change." Clancy cut next to us, passing Tyler his change of clothes.

Tyler nodded, and began walking to one of the dressing rooms in the back. I was pissed.

"Tyler!" I called him, a slight tone of anger in my voice.

Nothing.

I followed him again, opening the door he was in.

"Why are you ignoring me?" I asked, shutting the door behind me. I faced his back as he took his shirt off.

"So you're just not gonna talk to me after last night."

He put a brand new shirt on. Still no words came out of his mouth.

I was fuming at this point.

"Whatever."

I began to leave when he finally spoke.

"A mistake."

I turned around, confused.

"You told him I was a mistake." He continued to put on his chains.

"Reece? You knew I couldn't tell him the truth."

"Nah, I get it. You were just tryna hide the fact that you cheated," he adjusted his pants.

"What the fuck? you were the one always trying to seduce me—,"

"I never pushed you to cheat. I always stopped when I knew you'd give in. You'd give in if I didn't stop. So now you wanna blame me and say that I made you cheat, when you told me to kiss you. You told me to keep going—," he got closer. His voice was rough.

"You knew what you were doing. Don't act like you didn't want me to cheat and break up with Reece. You were so fucking calculated—you knew I'd give in." I redacted.

"You act like it was all my fault," he watched me.

"I just can't believe I fucking gave in. Fuck—,"

His lips slammed into mine, his body collided with mine, forcefully pushing me against the door. He let go, his lips trailing into the back of ear. Slowly, he made his way down to my lips again, assertively.

The way he took control made me feel like I melted into the door.

"Take them off."

He pulled harshly at the belt loop of my jeans. I did. I felt his eyes tracing my every move.

He came close again, taking my hand into his as he placed them on his shaft. I rubbed over his pants as he threw his head back in pleasure. I bit my bottom lip as I watched him moan my name.

Immediately, he took my small frame and pushed everything off of the makeup desk next to us. He pushed me on top of it aggressively. His left hand kept hold of my waist as if I was to go anywhere. His right hand unbuckled his pants. T harshly pushed my underwear to the side as he inserted himself slowly. I moaned as he placed his hands on my hips pushing me right into him.

There was a slight pain as he aggressively began thrusting into me, causing me to wince. He noticed, stopping as he breathed into my ear.

"You want me to stop?" he asked.

I shook my head no.

"Slow down a little," I replied, and he nodded. He began to go again, this time half the pace. Then, I felt him hit my spot. I bit my lip as his hands gripped the side of the table. Each grunt of his made me closer.

"Right there," I moaned, letting my head fall back as he continued, faster. His pace quickened every time my grip tightened on the back of his neck.

"Don't fucking stop," I breathed, my body tensing up as he took hold on my hips, slamming harder into me. The beads of sweat on his forehead weirdly turned me on even more.

"Fuck," he breathed.

I held my breath as I climaxed, moaning into him. He wasn't finished yet. He slowed down, pulling out and in before he felt himself almost get there. He pulled out, watching me play with myself as he finished himself off with his hand.

I bit my lip.

He pulled his boxers up, and then his pants, buttoning them up. He caught his breath, grabbing his phone as he left.

I finished buttoning up jeans before I could say anything.

There was no kissing, no signs of affection  when we fucked. It dawned on me he had used me like I had used him, last night—for the simple purpose of pleasure.

I knew he was still angry at me, and I understood why.