Once Upon A Time
By Missy

TITLE: Once Upon a Time
RATING: Rish (Smut, smut smut)
DISTRIBUTION: To Squeaky, LW, Kai and FG so far; any other archives are welcome to ask, but disclaimers must be included, my email left intact. send a URL, and provide full disclaimers as well as credit me fully. Please inform me if you are going to submit my work to any sort of search engine. Â Please do not submit my work to a search engine that picks out random sets of words and uses them as key words, such as "Google"
Please contact me in order for this story to be placed on an archive, or if you want know of a friend who would enjoy my works, please email me their adress and I will mail them the stories, expressly for the purpose of link trading. MiSTiers are welcomed! Please do inform me that you'd like to do the MiSTing, however, and send me a copy of the finished product. I'd also love to archive any MiSTings that are made of my work!
NOTES: More era-inappropriate songfic! Yay! "Once Upon a time" W/ Robert Bradley. Lyrics culled from: http://www.rbblackwatersurprise.com/media/lyrics/05_once_upon_a_time.html C1996
CATEGORY: L&L romance, smuttiness
FEEDBACK: PLEASE?!
SPOILLER/SUMMARY: One little slow dance..right...

****

Once upon a time, when I was in high school
I was in love with you, lady and you treated me so cool.

One little slow dance; she swore that this would be all. She picked the record, told him that he still couldn't do it right, even at thirty years old; he kept stomping on her toes.

Their hips had collided and he had lost all hope of rational thought. Everything in him went into holding himself erect and apart from her body. She frowned up at him and pressed them firmly together.

Did she know she was killing him?

I remember Marvin Gaye, singin',
Let's Get It On...

His strength traveled a meandering path through his forearms; she could feel him hopping, jumping inside; his expression was almost pained.

She knew how much he needed her. First she felt like a bad friend, then a negligent woman. Fate seemed to be deciding for them; her body hadn't been given permission to press back; to touch him this way.

But she did.

I remember Marvin Gaye, singin',
Let's Get It On...
Don't play with my love no,
I remember Marvin Gaye, singin', Let's Get It On.

He wondered if she remembered their senior year in high school; commencement night, under a tree. They had almost made it to third base before she bolted and left him a virgin in the summer grass.

She didn't know how much he loved her. Obsession can be that way; desperately hidden. He was also obsessed with looking very, very cool for her. Everyone that came in contact with him would tell him gladly that he never quite succeeded.

You used to wear girl, those hot pants
When you strolled down the hall,
all the boys wanted a chance...

His essence enveloped her; chocolate, licorice, aftershave, hair gel; she could drown in the overwhelming fact of his existence. Why hadn't she ever thought of him this way before?

He never knew the right thing to say, so he said nothing at all. Just tightened his arms. She could feel his imperfect body as well as she could her own; every flaw meaningless, an empty lie that nature had created for them.

I remember Marvin Gaye, singin',
Let's Get It On...
Don't play with my love, no...

His eyes were a pure, unremitting blue in the stormcloud-darkened room; So she Touched him without thinking, blinded by the silence and the dark. Thought itself had become evil.

Every important moment in his entire romantic life linked back to her; he could still feel the sweet taste of her tongue inside of his mouth on that night, almost twenty years before. No woman had or could compare to her; it delighted him to think that she had finally come to realize that no man matched up to him.

Crazy; she'd driven him to insanity.

It was wonderful to be insane.

Her dress lay somewhere on the floor; in adjacent symmetry with his pants; if he'd known anything at all about the principal of fung shui, he would have been very pleased. Harmony; their possessions fallen together in a pile.

I remember Elvis Presley, and the Blue Suede Shoes
ahh it gave me the blues.
I remember Marvin Gaye, singin'...let's get it on

Outside, rain fell in sheets; a steady clear stream pouring into and filling a huge old piece of yellow crockery sitting on the windowsill. Through a jagged crack streaking from its lip to its handle, Droplets rained down on their bared flesh. Droplets just as shameless as they were in their desire to be absorbed into one.