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“What?”
Curly couldn’t - no, didn’t want to believe what he’d just heard. He’d always known Jimmy was a fuckin’ prick. Sure. He was a shithead. He was rude, he was jealous, he was an asshole sometimes.
This wouldn’t slide though. Curly was a good man, a good captain. He cared about his crew. He really, really did. When Anya let the words “I told him no but-“ fall out of her mouth, Curly felt red hot searing anger in the back of his neck. The base of his skull was bulging, expanding, about to explode into a fine red mist all over the fucking medbay.
“T-that’s why I uh… I really don’t want anyone to have the gun but you Curly. I know you can’t give it to me, but… at least you can keep it from him right?”
Anya was trembling. Body language all folded in on herself like she was worried somehow he was going to lash out at her. No, no he wouldn’t. But the boil of rage at the top of his spine exploded at that moment. He swore he could feel pus and blood flood out of his neck.
He leaned his head to the side and popped the vertebrae. The pressure subsided, just barely. Enough for him to start talking without screaming.
“Okay. I’m going to go talk to him.”
Anya’s face fell. He said it darkly. Nasty. ‘Talk’ had all the trimmings of ‘Kill’ when you said it just right. He was hoping that he wasn’t so obvious, but he ignored Anya’s cries when she begged him not to say anything. What, like he was some fucking pushover? Like Jimmy could get away with this shit.
“Anya, just stay where you fucking are. If you run in after me you know it’ll be worse.”
She stopped after that.
Jimmy. Fucking Jimmy. He always fuckin’ owed Curly money. He never paid him back. He was always saying nasty shit about whatever girl Curly saw. His old apartment was littered with porno mags and dust. He was a gambler, a liar, and a cheat. Curly let him win at their little games. He knew Jimmy couldn’t pay up if he lost. He liked to keep Jimmy fat, happy and docile. It was a little selfish, sure, but Jimmy was easier to handle with a finger of whiskey in him and some hot air. Curly didn’t like the real Jimmy. He didn’t like Jimmy when he struggled. He couldn’t stand that fuckin’ prick.
Well, here that choice was. Here to bite Curly on the ass. Yeah, he was being a jackass right now. He was acting all heroic, but really he just wanted the record to show that He did something about it. An investigation, on his fucking co-pilot. On his ship. Jimmy was covetous, but he couldn’t take this from him. No, not if it made him the fattest happiest bastard alive.
‘The Tulpar is mine you fuckin’ asshole,’ Curly thought as he rampaged into the common area. Bingo. There he was. Fuckin’ swapping stories with Daisuke and Swansea. Idiot. Prick. Asshole. He was gonna rip him a new one.
“Jimmy, get your ass over here now.”
It wasn’t a request. Of course Jimmy treated it like one.
“What’s up Cap? I shit in your cereal or somethin’?”
Curly felt all of his flesh boiling now. Veins and Capillaries and arteries flush with blood. Oxygen. Feeding that fire. Burning so hot he could feel the sweat dripping on his brow.
“Shut the fuck up. For once in your fucking life, shut up. Jesus christ. I thought that trip to Vietnam was your lowest, but this? Really Jimmy?”
Jimmy stood up at that. They didn’t talk about Vietnam. That one time Jimmy had ‘accidentally’ taken home a lady of the night that was less lady and more girl. Too young. He swore he was drunk out of his mind, but Curly almost fucking killed him. This time he might really do it.
Jimmy held out his hands, talking to Curly like he was a wild animal. Slowly stalking forwards like he could somehow negotiate. Prick.
“Captain… What’s this about?”
Curly hit the pillar in the kitchen. Hard enough he heard a crack. Swansea winced at it, knowing he’d have to fix it, but was smart enough not to mouth off.
“It’s about Anya, numbskull. What else?”
Jimmy’s mouth hardened into a line. He sighed. He seemed pissed, not scared. Curly didn’t like that. He didn’t like it at all. In fact, he hated it so much he didn’t let Jimmy respond.
“No. Don’t give me your bullshit. I’ve listened to your bullshit for years now. I get you a good fucking job, I let you get away with- god knows what, and this is what you do? Are you fuckin’ brain damaged? Did you hit your head too hard after a night of drinking on my fucking dime? Huh?”
Curly stomped over to Jimmy, grabbed him by the collar of his jumpsuit.
“Curly, can we please just… talk about this somewhere else?” Jimmy pointed his eyes over to Swansea and Daisuke, who were awkwardly staring at the situation. Trying their best not to ogle and failing.
“No. No, you don’t get to hide from this. You’re not even fucking sorry, are you?”
Curly yanked at Jimmy’s collar again, spit flying in his face. He was red, he could feel it. He could feel that fire in him burning everything up. His senses, his logic, his compassion, his love. Gone. Poof. Into ash.
“C’mon Curly… What do you want me to do? You want me to fucking confess? You want me to grovel? It was a fuckin’ mistake. I’ve been cooped up on this stupid ship for months. I-I wasn’t thinking straight-“
Curly threw Jimmy to the floor. Jimmy’s shoulder connected with the table, causing him to curl in on himself when he hit the floor. He was groaning, wincing at the pain.
“You weren’t… thinking straight? That’s your excuse? Maybe if Anya had fuckin’ said yes, I’d take that excuse. But she didn’t, did she, Jimmy?”
Jimmy groaned in pain still. He was writhing on the floor, holding his shoulder.
“Did she?”
Curly slammed his foot into the side of Jimmy’s torso. Jimmy cried out, more from shock than pain.
“I don’t know… I don’t know!”
That pissed Curly off more. He was all flames now, all rage. He was kicking at every body part he could, relishing in the anguished cries. Stupid, beautiful Jimmy. He was always prettier when he was crying wasn’t he?
“Curly please, please stop,” Jimmy begged, arms shielding his face from the assault. He was crying for real now, those uncontrollable sobs that wracked his body when he was really, truly fucked. Curly could record that sound on tape and listen to it on repeat. Fuckin’ music to his ears. Jimmy, begging for it to stop.
“Hey, didn’t Anya ask you to stop?”
Another kick.
“Didn’t she?”
Jimmy sobbed. He gurgled on his own mucus and tears.
“Y-yes. She did. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,”
A kick to the spine. Middle of his back. He cried out but had the breath knocked out halfway through, resulting in a little aborted wheezing sound. Delicious.
“Please, I’ll do anything! Just stop, Curly, please,”
Curly grabbed his collar again. He yanked the brunette up off the ground, watching as he choked and grabbed at his shirt collar. Trying to breathe. Trying to get away. Not this time.
“What’s it gonna take for you to understand how she felt?”
Jimmy was gasping for air. Half sobs and half gurgled attempts at a breath echoed in the air.
Then it hit Curly. He felt the fire being doused. He felt the wind blowing over his body, the calmness. A sudden, swift notion.
Jimmy had never had his trust betrayed. He was a piece of shit, but somehow he was never truly hurt by anyone. Somehow he made it through life without poking the wrong bear. Today, he had fuckin’ done it. He’d gone and poked Curly over and over again till he was forced to react.
Curly slammed Jimmy onto the table. He pushed his cheek into the hard plastic, against a plate that would crack if he pushed any harder. One hand in his hair.
He took the other hand and pulled at Jimmy’s jumpsuit. He pulled at it until the buttons broke. He pulled and pulled, like muscle from bone. Tendon from tendon. He broke every fucking button and zipper he could. He pulled until he heard his crew crying and telling him to stop. He didn’t listen.
He was hard. He had been since he started kicking the shit out of Jimmy. He’d been excited since the fucker started crying. Jimmy was a piece of shit, but he was Curly’s responsibility. If anyone was going to do this and enjoy it, by God it would be him. His brother’s keeper. He held half of Jimmy’s dysfunction, fostered it. He built it. He formed this disgusting Tulpa with his own hands. His creation from the clay of the Gods. He had to fix it. He had to reprimand it. Shape it. Mold it into something worthwhile. Something shaped like a human, not a fuckup. All those years he made excuses. He made this monster, now he had to unmake him.
He had the gun on him. Of course he did. When Anya had mentioned it, in his fury, he had gone and tucked it into his pocket. He took it out now, eyeing Swansea and Daisuke.
“Don’t fucking move a muscle. I’ll blow his brains out.”
Jimmy would prefer that. Brains splattered on to the plastic below him. He’d rather have his head split open than face the music. Too fucking bad. Swansea and Daisuke didn’t move an inch. Not even a centimeter.
Anya sobbed in the doorway, too scared to move.
Curly put the gun in Jimmy’s mouth.
“Suck it. You made her do it didn’t you? I know you. Of course you did. You’re a fucking pig. You can’t get it up on your own.”
Curly flipped Jimmy onto his back. The plate under his head shattered. There were little specks of red that Curly couldn’t see forming on the white shards. He ripped the rest of Jimmy’s jumpsuit down. Tore it off. He needed better access.
There Jimmy lay, like a piece of disgusting abstract art. He was all lines and colors to Curly now. He wasn’t a person. Curly shoved the gun back into Jimmy’s mouth.
“I told you to fucking suck it.”
Jimmy was sobbing. He tongued at the barrel, sucking like he’d never done it before. He hadn’t. Curly knew that. He could barely hollow his cheeks, he was crying so much. Curly shoved it in far enough to make Jimmy gag.
“You’re lousy at this.”
Curly cocked the gun to watch Jimmy’s expression. He flinched, hard. He hit his teeth on the metal. Sobbed even louder.
Curly couldn’t take it anymore. He took himself out of his jumpsuit, not naked like Jimmy was. Just an appendage. Just a tool. Not even a part of him. His cock was just something to hurt Jimmy now. He wouldn’t enjoy this, he swore to himself.
Jimmy was begging and pleading, even with the gun in his mouth. He knew it would hurt. Curly hoped it would.
He was bigger than average. Jimmy had never been fucked before. Too fucking bad. Jimmy made his bed. Now he has to lie in it.
Curly took his free hand and pushed Jimmy’s leg back. Far enough to stretch and burn his muscles. He put the gun down for one second to line himself up, and then pointed it under Jimmy’s chin.
“Don’t you fucking dare to try to get away from this. Your brains will be all over this table before you can even process it.”
Jimmy sobbed, feeling the tip pushing at him. It burned. Curly let go of Jimmy’s leg.
“Keep it in the air or i’ll beat the shit out of you again.”
His leg stayed up.
Curly spat onto his hand, rubbing it into Jimmy’s hole. He was twitching, clenching, trying to stop it somehow. But Curly shoved two fingers in and stretched them out. Jimmy groaned in pain, but Curly just hooked his fingers in and pulled down. Put the tip of his cock right above them, and pushed in.
It was tight. It was tighter than anything Curly had ever fucked. That tight ring of muscle he was forcing his way past massaged every inch of him, every vein. Curly spat onto his dick, hands busy with guiding himself into Jimmy and holding the gun. That helped. Suddenly he was pushing in way too much way too fast, and Jimmy was screaming.
Curly was gutting this stupid selfish asshole from the inside. He was carving a place for himself inside Jimmy. He was marking this bitch as his property, Jimmy always knew that’s what he was to Curly. A charity. A project. A toy. Now, he was a hole for Curly to take his anger out on.
It was fitting. Jimmy had always leeched off of Curly. He’d always taken more than he could give. Now Curly had taken something Jimmy would never get back. Finally he could repay some of his debt. Not nearly all of it, but some.
The more Curly rammed his cock into Jimmy, the quieter Jimmy’s sobs got. At first he screamed, hot pain searing inside of his guts. Then he just cried. Wet sobs and gasps. Then he got used to it, got used to the stretch and the fullness and the burn. Curly wanted Jimmy to feel ashamed. Wanted him to be embarrassed. So he angled his cock just right and hit that stupid little sweet spot. It was almost endearing, watching Jimmy cover his face. He was biting his lip now, trying to keep the moans in. But his cock was leaking, still soft but leaking nonetheless. Leaking on to his hairy, full stomach. The more precum Curly forced out of Jimmy the tighter he got.
Curly swore he wasn’t going to enjoy this, but he lied. He took great satisfaction in ripping out a precious piece of Jimmy’s heart. He loved every second of it. He loved hurting him, he loved making him feel ashamed, he loved humiliating the poor animal. Sobbing and moaning on his best friend’s cock as retribution for his own sins. Turned into a fleshlight for his captain to abuse, so he can repent and cry and take all the pain he can.
Jimmy pushed past something he wasn’t supposed to. He felt it. He’d gone too deep. Jimmy sobbed, wrecked and fucked out. His muscles stopped clenching. He went loose with shock and pain, but Curly didn’t let up. He just fucked into Jimmy’s guts like Jimmy had done to Anya. He ignored all the signs that he had gone too far, just like Jimmy would have.
He put his seed deep into the belly of the beast. He was going to make a mother out of this wretched thing. He was going to make a better man out of Jimmy. He was going to fix him.
Semen, warm and slimy, flooded Jimmy’s insides. He swore he could feel it up in his colon, his intestines, his stomach. Curly was fucking it in deeper, pushing it all the way in so Jimmy would really know what it felt like.
He took the gun and pointed it next to Jimmy’s head. Right by his ear.
He fired.
Out of shock, or fear, or maybe because Curly had rubbed that one spot inside just enough, Jimmy’s cock let out a stream of clear liquid, all over his thigh and stomach. He’d pissed himself. Or maybe he’d squirted from the abuse of his prostate. Curly didn’t care.
Jimmy was catatonic. He couldn’t move. He just twitched, like a newly beheaded corpse under Curly.
Curly was going to do this again. He already knew that. Jimmy wouldn’t say no either. Jimmy was broken now. He’d finally tipped his best friend over the line, fucked up his last chance.
The least he could do was keep Curly’s cock warm.