[Fic] Heavy
Oct. 31st, 2010 12:53 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kittydesadeTitle: Heavy
Source: The Barton Hall Irregulars
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Characters: Jared, Cory
Word Count: 1,162
Summary: Being an incubus isn't all it's cracked up to be, especially when you've been rejected.
A/N: Written for![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
origfic_bingo prompt "Substance abuse"
He laughed when she told him, shivering and thin. She hated that he laughed, threw something at him, but it missed his head without him even having to duck. Her friends had to escort her out.
She'd be back. She was tangled up in him still, narrow wisping threads all running sticky through her, full of nights spent gasping and little touches along her skin that she would miss when she was gone. That little catch in her breath when he whispered in her ear, she'd miss that. The way he tasted. The way he cooked for her out of cafeteria things, the way he talked to her. She'd miss all of those.
He watched her friends supporting her through the day, none of them leaving her alone for long. The dog-shifter was at her side when the weird gay kid wasn't. He still didn't know what was up with the boy, but something wasn't right. Something was churning inside him like thunder, and it called to Jared so much and so hard that he got a stiffy just from being in the kid's presence. Which was why he picked Paige, instead. She had a lot of the same wanton energy and less of the danger.
Except when she threatened him with her Louisville Slugger, nicked and pitted from years of use. That was less dangerous and more cute.
She didn't come back. For a whole week. That was more time than it usually took them to come back, slinking and apologizing, tears in their eyes. Even the guys. She still stole glances at him from across the cafeteria, but she wasn't coming back. He didn't get it. She should be back, she should be sniffling in his arms.
Two weeks. Three. Four weeks later he was lying on his back on his bed, arms wrapped around his stomach and trying not to scream as his guts tore themselves to shreds inside his stomach, or that's what it felt like anyway. Four weeks since he'd been touched in the ways he needed to be touch. Four fucking weeks. His cock felt like it would split and release a load of pus and maggots. His skin felt like it was lined on the inside with brambles.
Cory leaned in the doorway and looked down at him. "I told you not to mess with her."
"Shut the fuck up," he hissed. Kicked at the bedcovers until they flapped and thundered and his ankles got all tangled. "Shut up and ...."
And something. He didn't know what. Cory couldn't help, she was in a similar position except for the part of being intangible and all. She only followed him around to mock him, anyway, he was sure of it.
"And what? Get her back for you?" She snorted, coming further into the room. "You do know there are other people on this campus."
He pulled one hand off his midsection to flip her off, then rolled onto his stomach and heaved into the trash can. Bile spattered against plastic and immediately the smell hit his nose and he heaved again. Cory laughed at him.
"You're such a bitch."
"Language," she laughed again. "You weren't nearly this much of a pottymouth back..."
Jared tuned her out as she went into a string of reminisces that did nothing but made him realize how old he was. And at this rate, it was a miracle he'd survived this long. Which she'd probably point out later. Cory wasn't her real name, anyhow, and she was older than he was, which she lorded over him every chance she got.
He felt sick. He shouldn't have let Paige go and, now that he was thinking about it, he shouldn't have treated her the way he did. Which was pretty much the way Cory treated him. Maybe he should have done something else, he didn't know, maybe she was right and he should have picked someone else but he'd wanted Paige. She'd been so bright, so tasty. God, she had tasted sweet, every kiss and every mouthful and her moans and cries better than cola when he'd first had a try. Way better than the sex he'd been having.
Cory stopped lecturing sometime while he had half his face pressed into the pillow and his knees drawn up to his chest. "Withdrawal's a bitch, isn't it?"
He rolled his eyes at her but didn't argue. Withdrawal was only a small part of it, but close enough to what he was going through right now. Starvation felt different.
He didn't want to go through that, either.
"You need to get her back for me," he muttered, knowing what Cory's response would be even before the derisive snickers started. "Stop that. Get someone for me, anyway, before I fucking roast." He was sweating, but that was probably a result of the withdrawal and the shakes and all.
"You'll live. You've lived far longer with far less, before. You didn't pop then, and you're not going to pop now. Ooh, popcorn."
"You can't even fucking..." He rolled onto his back and let his head fall into the pillow, because she was gone. "... eat popcorn." Thud. His head slammed back into the pillow. Thud, thud, thud. "Fuck!"
She was right, too, in a way. He didn't need the sex to survive, he didn't need that rush to keep him alive and sane. But he needed some way to let out this hot energy, he needed someone to take him in and take it so he didn't have to hold onto it alone. The maggots in his cock and the brambles under his skin. It'd take a long while to kill him, a really long while, but it would kill him eventually if he didn't get someone.
And she was right about that too. He'd find someone, he always did. But he wanted Paige, right now, he really wanted her, and until he got her back he was going to be stubborn and lie in bed and shake like a junkie.
"Fuck." One last thud, head against the pillow. "I need a fucking blowjob." Maybe that freshman from the orientation class that had been picnicking out on the quad a few days ago. She'd seemed nice. Pretty, if on the bony side, and she'd blushed when he'd glanced her way. She had to be curious. He crawled out of his bed and stuffed his feet in his shoes, propped himself up on the sink to scrub water over his face. God, he could just imagine what her mouth looked like on his cock, all that wide-eyed wonder as he murmured dirty, dirty things to her and found her strings to pull on them, wondering how she could feel so alive with her knees pressed into the concrete behind the student center. Yeah. That was just what he needed.
Kind of like getting a quick burger in the drive through on the way to the wedding feast.
Source: The Barton Hall Irregulars
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Characters: Jared, Cory
Word Count: 1,162
Summary: Being an incubus isn't all it's cracked up to be, especially when you've been rejected.
A/N: Written for
origfic_bingo prompt "Substance abuse"He laughed when she told him, shivering and thin. She hated that he laughed, threw something at him, but it missed his head without him even having to duck. Her friends had to escort her out.
She'd be back. She was tangled up in him still, narrow wisping threads all running sticky through her, full of nights spent gasping and little touches along her skin that she would miss when she was gone. That little catch in her breath when he whispered in her ear, she'd miss that. The way he tasted. The way he cooked for her out of cafeteria things, the way he talked to her. She'd miss all of those.
He watched her friends supporting her through the day, none of them leaving her alone for long. The dog-shifter was at her side when the weird gay kid wasn't. He still didn't know what was up with the boy, but something wasn't right. Something was churning inside him like thunder, and it called to Jared so much and so hard that he got a stiffy just from being in the kid's presence. Which was why he picked Paige, instead. She had a lot of the same wanton energy and less of the danger.
Except when she threatened him with her Louisville Slugger, nicked and pitted from years of use. That was less dangerous and more cute.
She didn't come back. For a whole week. That was more time than it usually took them to come back, slinking and apologizing, tears in their eyes. Even the guys. She still stole glances at him from across the cafeteria, but she wasn't coming back. He didn't get it. She should be back, she should be sniffling in his arms.
Two weeks. Three. Four weeks later he was lying on his back on his bed, arms wrapped around his stomach and trying not to scream as his guts tore themselves to shreds inside his stomach, or that's what it felt like anyway. Four weeks since he'd been touched in the ways he needed to be touch. Four fucking weeks. His cock felt like it would split and release a load of pus and maggots. His skin felt like it was lined on the inside with brambles.
Cory leaned in the doorway and looked down at him. "I told you not to mess with her."
"Shut the fuck up," he hissed. Kicked at the bedcovers until they flapped and thundered and his ankles got all tangled. "Shut up and ...."
And something. He didn't know what. Cory couldn't help, she was in a similar position except for the part of being intangible and all. She only followed him around to mock him, anyway, he was sure of it.
"And what? Get her back for you?" She snorted, coming further into the room. "You do know there are other people on this campus."
He pulled one hand off his midsection to flip her off, then rolled onto his stomach and heaved into the trash can. Bile spattered against plastic and immediately the smell hit his nose and he heaved again. Cory laughed at him.
"You're such a bitch."
"Language," she laughed again. "You weren't nearly this much of a pottymouth back..."
Jared tuned her out as she went into a string of reminisces that did nothing but made him realize how old he was. And at this rate, it was a miracle he'd survived this long. Which she'd probably point out later. Cory wasn't her real name, anyhow, and she was older than he was, which she lorded over him every chance she got.
He felt sick. He shouldn't have let Paige go and, now that he was thinking about it, he shouldn't have treated her the way he did. Which was pretty much the way Cory treated him. Maybe he should have done something else, he didn't know, maybe she was right and he should have picked someone else but he'd wanted Paige. She'd been so bright, so tasty. God, she had tasted sweet, every kiss and every mouthful and her moans and cries better than cola when he'd first had a try. Way better than the sex he'd been having.
Cory stopped lecturing sometime while he had half his face pressed into the pillow and his knees drawn up to his chest. "Withdrawal's a bitch, isn't it?"
He rolled his eyes at her but didn't argue. Withdrawal was only a small part of it, but close enough to what he was going through right now. Starvation felt different.
He didn't want to go through that, either.
"You need to get her back for me," he muttered, knowing what Cory's response would be even before the derisive snickers started. "Stop that. Get someone for me, anyway, before I fucking roast." He was sweating, but that was probably a result of the withdrawal and the shakes and all.
"You'll live. You've lived far longer with far less, before. You didn't pop then, and you're not going to pop now. Ooh, popcorn."
"You can't even fucking..." He rolled onto his back and let his head fall into the pillow, because she was gone. "... eat popcorn." Thud. His head slammed back into the pillow. Thud, thud, thud. "Fuck!"
She was right, too, in a way. He didn't need the sex to survive, he didn't need that rush to keep him alive and sane. But he needed some way to let out this hot energy, he needed someone to take him in and take it so he didn't have to hold onto it alone. The maggots in his cock and the brambles under his skin. It'd take a long while to kill him, a really long while, but it would kill him eventually if he didn't get someone.
And she was right about that too. He'd find someone, he always did. But he wanted Paige, right now, he really wanted her, and until he got her back he was going to be stubborn and lie in bed and shake like a junkie.
"Fuck." One last thud, head against the pillow. "I need a fucking blowjob." Maybe that freshman from the orientation class that had been picnicking out on the quad a few days ago. She'd seemed nice. Pretty, if on the bony side, and she'd blushed when he'd glanced her way. She had to be curious. He crawled out of his bed and stuffed his feet in his shoes, propped himself up on the sink to scrub water over his face. God, he could just imagine what her mouth looked like on his cock, all that wide-eyed wonder as he murmured dirty, dirty things to her and found her strings to pull on them, wondering how she could feel so alive with her knees pressed into the concrete behind the student center. Yeah. That was just what he needed.
Kind of like getting a quick burger in the drive through on the way to the wedding feast.