A/N: This is the...first fanfic I've posted that actually talks about sex...at all...like, even over on ao3. Feels weird, man. I mean, I've written it before but for some reason I feel sketchy actually posting it. On another note, Fight Club fanfiction is very interesting to write given that the main character has no name and I insist on writing on third person. For most things I'm happy to write in second person but no apparently for the one fandom that encourages second I'm forcing myself to write in third. Sighs. Anyway, FIght Club fanfiction is also fun because the original material itself is so thought provoking that anything less seems...disdainful. I try to make my yaois thought provoking. I HAVE STANDARDS FOR MY FANFICTION.

He has bright vivid terrifying dreams where he shoves Tyler's face into a pillow, folds his arm behind his back, and fucks him. He fucks him like he hears Tyler fuck Marla- to the point where Tyler is screaming like a whore and they're breaking the floor boards beneath his bed and there are bruises everywhere. When they're done Tyler crawls onto his chest and whispers in his ear that he wants to have his abortion. Tyler laughs shakily as he falls asleep and the other- the other is Jack's misplaced sense of power and accomplishment.

The worse dreams are the ones where they make love.

Tyler pulls him to his bed, kisses a split eyebrow, kisses his neck, kisses his mouth carefully, like he's afraid of waking him. Fear settles in his stomach as he slides above Tyler and kisses his fingers and his bruises (left by the fists of others, never by him, they don't fight anymore, they don't need to) but Tyler just laughs at his fear and tells him it's nothing. They have nothing to be afraid of anymore.

He holds Tyler close and whispers words he'd never say anywhere else as they slide together and shudder and there's no screaming just a disjointed, pretty sense of right and okay. When it's over, he presses his face into Tyler's shoulder and Tyler kisses his knuckles like he's a modern Prince Charming. Tyler whispers that he'll never leave and they both sleep.

From the first kind of dreams, he wakes feeling guilty and strange.

From the second kind, he wakes with indescribable feelings and tears in his eyes.

He doesn't tell Tyler about these dreams, but

He thinks

That maybe he doesn't have to.

Because Tyler knows. Tyler knows everything.

Tyler looks out the window at their first recruits and his best friend stands beside him, smoking and looking at the sky. Tyler reaches for his hand and holds it, beneath the window sill where no one can see, and he knows, for sure, that Tyler knows.

In Tyler, he trusts.

With Tyler in mind, he dreams.

And for some reason, it's like nothing changed.

But the dreams never stop coming.

And they never stop being scary.