Oh songfic...

[quettaser.livejournal.com]

So, there was an unofficial songfic challenge over on TalkCSI, and I finally got around to writing it. Actually, the plot bunny for this attacked me while the cable guy was installing my internet. Enjoy!

Title: Desperate Obsession
Author: Quettaser
Rating: Hard R (not quite NC-17, I don't think)
Song: "Faster" by Third Eye Blind
Summary: Nick can't get Greg out of his head.

Horny & burnout now is how it always ends for me
Chemicals wear me down in your summertime bacchanalian

I can’t forget the way you smelled that night. Beneath the pulsing lights, between the swelling bodies. It was intoxicating. The musk of sweat, splashed in alcohol, lingering tangs of the lab, and something indescribably you.

I didn’t even know it was your scene, but there you were, encased in tight fabric and leather, dyed spiky blonde hair limp with sweat, smelling like sex and want and desire and need. I felt the pull of your body from across the floor, felt something grab my gut, my cock and draw me to you, like I was some kind of dowsing rod and you were my hidden spring of clear, cool water.

It was like I was seeing you for the first time. And you were so fucking beautiful, stunning. The way your body moved, I’d forgotten how graceful a body could be, how dirty it could be. I didn’t know it was possible to become sex. But there you were, embodying every carnal desire I’d ever had. You were so stunning, stunning me to silence.

I’d never felt such want before.

Now I can’t stop feeling it.

I saw you go
Faster
Than the morning comes

Then you were gone. I searched that place high and low, looking for you. Followed the dead trail of your scent. I know you saw me. Saw my gaping, saw my need. I know because I saw you smile, smile that filthy grin that means you know exactly what you’re doing to me.

Those bedroom eyes are seared into my brain.

Those eyes stare back at me every time I close my own and I can’t believe I let you slip through my fingers.

She walks away like a lady
It's always the fallen ones
I think are always going to save me

            I started tricking not that long ago. It's easier than picking someone up at a club. You don't have to lie, pretend to be decent. You both know what you're there for. Young girls caught in a bad place, I know I’m taking advantage, but so do a lot of others. I make sure I don’t hurt them. They always amaze me. They’re able to smile and laugh, and for a while when I’m with them, the pain, the want, is less inside me.

It doesn’t last though, because I need release, and I can only get that with you.

It could never be the boys. All too small, too tiny, like they’d break under my hands. I’m afraid of what I might do to them, because they aren’t you. I don’t trust myself, not when I press inside the tight heat, feel the hardness against my leg and I know it’s not you I’m feeling. It’s easier with the girls, it feels different, and I don’t lose it, and for some reason, they seem stronger.

 I saw you go
Faster

I watched you all the time. Maybe you knew, maybe you didn’t. But I did. I watched you grow, emerge from the lab, break free, follow your own path.

I hardly see you anymore and I can’t decide if it’s easier that way or not.

I want to get off one time and not apologize
You got to steal from the time of a life that's passing by

It’s always your name I yell when I finally let go. I just can’t control it, it’s always you I’m thinking about, dreaming about, wishing I could feel your legs wrapped around my waist. I used to be ashamed but I’ve stopped being embarrassed about it. I used to go to the club, to look for you. Smell you again. Taste you for the first time, the second time, take your body in my arms, make you mine.

You were never there.

I always ended up with some bitch on my arm. She thought accents were sexy or something. I didn’t really care. Because it was always you in my head. Couldn’t get you out. Yelled it when I came.

That pissed them off, the bitches from the club. I’d apologize, turn on my Texas fucking charm and get the fuck out. It got to be too much. I felt too many obligations to them and for a while, I had no release, just my hand and my thoughts.

But that was all before I found the street.

In bed she flexes her knees to try and abate the feeling
She mouths the words please to the poster on the ceiling

Most of the time the girls don’t care, I don’t hurt them, don’t ask for anything fucked up, don’t make them do a bump of something. I pay well and I make sure they get back on the street before their pimp gets pissed off. Sometimes I even kiss them on the cheek, hold open the door for them, make sure they get a meal.

I’d like to think it’s good when I fuck them, probably some bullshit male ego thing, but I’ve stopped caring. All I can think about is you, eyes burning into me, sweat dripping, heart pounding. I can barely keep my eyes open now when I do it. I’m always disappointed when I don’t see your face, and sometimes their eyes are too empty, too broken and I feel like I’m looking at myself.

I treat them well. Maybe it’s because I still feel responsible for Kristy. Maybe it’s my white upper class guilt. Maybe its just because I know they get about as much pleasure out of it as I do.

None.

I saw you go
Faster
Right in front of me

I was with someone that night. I can’t even remember her name.

She was the one who saw you first.

She stares at him so madly
She's got the nerve to say
She wants to fuck that boy so badly

I left her there. I was a jackass, but she wasn’t much better. Left her alone while I went in search of you, and somewhere, deep inside of me, I feel bad, but it can’t compare to the feeling that washes over me every time I think of you.

I saw you go
Faster

After that night, all I could do was watch you. Being near you was torture because you knew, knew how badly I wanted you, knew how my body ached for yours. You still flirted, even, and it ripped me to shreds inside.

You were so teasingly close.

Sometimes I think I should have done something. Said something. Or maybe just grabbed you and kissed you and taken you.

Sometimes I think maybe I was wrong, and that you didn’t know what you were doing. Didn’t know the ache that coursed through me with every look, every sound, every smell.

Maybe you were waiting for me.

I want to get off one time and not apologize
You got a steal the time from a life that's passing by
I want to get off one time and look you in the eyes
I want to get off one time, get off one time

I have dreams about that night. Dreams more satisfying and disappointing than any night with a call girl.

This time, I’m not stunned, I’m spurred. I move towards you, your eyes locked with mine. In some of the dreams we talk, in others, we don’t even bother, both of us knowing exactly where this is going.

Sometimes we end up somewhere with a bed, other times we hide in a bathroom or a dark corner. It doesn’t matter where, or how, because it always ends the same.

I peel the clothing off of you, relishing the feel of your smooth skin beneath my hands and I get my first taste of your mouth. You push up into me and it’s everything I’ve wanted, you need me as much as I need you. We don’t take our time, don’t savor the touches, we’ll do that later.

In the dreams there is a later.

We rush fast and hard, bodies blurring together, hands and mouths searching quickly, desperately, urgently. It’s always frantic until the moment I’m pressed inside you and my world comes to a screeching halt. Then I’m nothing but the feeling of your luscious ass, the taste of your sweat, the sound of my name on your lips, the sight of your eyes staring back into mine, and the smell of you washing over me.

We push and pull against each other, giving and taking until we’re shaking with ecstasy. And I lose myself in you and I collapse, surrendering to bliss.

I was hoping you would be waiting there for me lately
I was hoping you would be waiting there for me lately
But you're not the kind who would be waiting, not for anybody
You're not the kind of girl who would be waiting for anybody not even me

            But then I wake up, and I’m always cold and alone and ashamed that all I do is think of you. And I should move on. I know you’re not thinking about me, I know I’m not what you want and I should be man enough to accept that and move on.

Just one more time
I could go off right now
I want to get off one time and not apologize
You got to steal the time from a life that's passing by

            But then I catch a glimpse of you and suddenly I’m back there, in the dark, watching you move, smelling that scent and the need courses through me again. You say my name or stand near me and my heart might just burst through my chest, it’s beating so hard.

            You look at me, and for a second I think that I see something flicker in your eyes. It could be fear, or need, maybe even desire.

            But I’ve dreamed for so long, there’s no way you could feel what I feel. No way that you’ve been watching me, dreaming about me. I move closer, daring to touch, once again bathed in your scent.

            Your breath hitches just a little and there’s a tenseness in your shoulders. 

Not for sale

            Maybe I was wrong…

Fin!

A/N: If you would like to listen to the whole song, send me an email and I'll hook you up.

Comments

[fred-bear.livejournal.com]

Holy fucking shit! I'm all toe-y now! Want, desire, need. Excellent tension there!

[quettaser.livejournal.com]

XD Thank you! I was kind of nervous about this one. It's very much out of the style I've been writing lately, and I wasn't sure how well I got across all of Nick's emotions.

[shacky20.livejournal.com]

Damn girl, you wrote that so beautifully perfect, the want, the need, the desperastion. The wonder, will it, won't it, did they, didn't they, but wow, you write the best smut, I know I always tell you that, but I bow to your smut when there is only imaginative smut.

[quettaser.livejournal.com]

Thank you. I actually enjoy writing the imaginary smut more (but I enjoy writing in general, so don't worry , you'll still get plenty of smut) than the regular smut. The regular stuff is pretty much hand=>penis Moan something. Mouth=>chest Sigh. and blah blah blah. But the imaginary smut is more about the sensations and emotions and thoughts which means I get to let my ProseWriter go and be all creative.

[flipflopadd1ct.livejournal.com]

This was hot, in a somewhat-angsty, desperate kind of way. Or something. It was GOOD. Nick's got it baaaad.

I wasn't sure how well I got across all of Nick's emotions. - I think you got em across just fine :D

I'm gonna go listen to that song.

[quettaser.livejournal.com]

*grins* Thank you. And may I say that Stephen Jenkins can write some crazy hot lyrics.

[squara.livejournal.com]

This is dark and dirty and perfect.

[quettaser.livejournal.com]

Oh, thank you!

[flipflopadd1ct.livejournal.com]

I just listened to the song and I really liked it! Well, I've always liked Third Eye Blind, but I just now heard the song. *repeats*

[quettaser.livejournal.com]

Mmm, I know, it's so good. It's off of Out of the Vein (their newest album) and I think the majority of songs on there could be fics. Stephen writes a damn good dirty lyric. And Macrame Queens is taken from a lyric off "Crystal Baller" which is also on the same album.

[saebuffyboy.livejournal.com]

poor nick. I love how he was afraid of hurting the boys, but the girls were stronger. It really reveals a lot in such a little action. and the part about the eyes being empty or dead and matching his. beautiful. hurray.

[imyourally.livejournal.com]

I don't really have words. This was good. Kind of hard to take thinking of him being that far gone. Anyway, I loved the flow of it and I think you did a fabulous job.