"Invasion"
by Chiri
AN: Kinda a follow up to CimC only (only!) a few changes. ClarkBar is telling the story this time and it's his thoughts spanning "Shimmer" and "Hug" cause... yeah. And as they say in anime, Clark's being a little bit of a hentai.. or, basically a pervert. Meaning, thinking like a teenage boy. ^___^ Spoilers all over the place. Really, it's disgusting the way I spoil season 1. He's also half adressing this to a certain blone and half telling it to some one. That's just how he came out. ^^
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It's not supposed to be like this. I'm not supposed to worry about or think about or even try to imagine what's running over and over in my mind. You. Are NOT. Supposed to be. In my mind. Like this.
NOT like this.
It's criminal. Horrible. Nobody is supposed to view their best friend of the opposite sex like this. Not their best friend.
Best friends aren't supposed to creep up into dreams like this. They aren't supposed to take the place of long time crushes. I should not be having a perfectly good fantasy go astray like this. I should imagine myself with Lana. Not having one minute and then watching raven locks turn to golden silk, chocolate eyes turn to orbs of azure, or a golden tan melt into a peaches and cream complexion.
The first time it happened I freaked out. Ripped straight through sheets, horrified that I had just ... used my memories of you like that.
You should never be used. Ever.
Especially by your best friend.
I'm laying on my bed right now. I'm icing up my shoulder - my shirt is kind of half on or half off right now. I don't know why, but my mind brings up you.
For the past month, always you.
I shouldn't be thinking this way. It's not fair. Did you do this on purpose? Was it a plan of yours to open up this can of worms inside my head? To try and sabotage what had been a comfortable liking of the girl next door? Was the innocent sarcasm just a ploy to trick me into this?
The ice is melting and has slipped off my shoulder. I feel it, but pay no attention. Bruises are new to me, but this.. thing crawling around in my head is far newer and harder to understand than my body's reaction to bullets.
Oh, you started off as usual. The situation was normal for us. You do the research, we figure it out together, I save the day. It's kind of our mode of opperandi. Even when you freaked cause your hand disappeared. For Smallville, it was normal. It didn't take me long to through out a guess...
"If you rubbed that all over your body, you'd be..."
"Naked?"
I'm not sure what happened in my head then... I remember answering that you'd be see-through. In the end, it turned out you were right as well. Zach was naked... and invisible.
But... something happened in-between your response and my reply. Somehow the word naked and you became linked. Naked became linked to rubbing and all over and body. And you. It seems like everything is related to you.
The whole reformatting shocked me. Scared me. Because... I fear, I liked it more than I should have.
It's all your fault.
I'm seeing things now... or imagining. Probably imagining. But until I can control what my dreams are doing, I can do nothing but imagine. I swore I saw you check me out.
But that's impossible. We're best friends. You would never do that, your the one who wanted to brush off my first attraction for friendship. That's what you want. I have no right to say anything because I'm a delusional teenage male.
I tried to play cool about it. I tried to deny it to myself. But somewhere along the line, I seemed to be moving closer to you. Scooting closer in at biology. Sharing a terminal in the Torch Office. It wasn't a big deal. I didn't notice it much... until I noticed you weren't even paying attention.
A touch, a brush, a stare. Any excuse to get closer. I officially called it a problem when I realized my telescope was focused on your room for almost a week.
It's sick. Perverse. Almost as messed up as my dreams... or my life when you're not around. Sports Ilustrated's swimsuit issue isn't worth even thinking off. I can't enjoy anything of that sort. Because I think of you. Girls half naked turns the word naked in my mind and that turns to you.
And then I go strolling down that part of Chloe-Lane where feelings and thoughts are about as far from platonic as the mind can get. I've never had to try and turn off dreams this... vivid before. And there are situations I hope never to see in real life.
Swimming for one. That's a double threat. There is you in a swimming suit (which leads to that whole half-naked / naked / you / you naked thing) and sun screen (which brings up a whole new set of problems with rubbing and all over... and naked again.)
You are my best friend. You shouldn't haunt my dreams. And not just at night. During the day. When I see you in PE. When I see you smile. Whenever I see you. Smell you. Think of you. You've intoxicated me... And I can't get you out of my skin.
And just when I was recovering, this new thing happens to me. I was beginning not to have to carry my books so low, or not have my breath hitch whenever I saw you. Or not constantly call and reach for you while I sleep.
Even when our hands brushed when before we met Lex in the Beanery, I could hold back. I could tell myself that I was stopping. I had been distancing myself. I could reach that small bit of friendship in the sea of changing emotions.
But... it didn't take long for Kyle to change that now did it?
The ice is gone. I peel the water soaked shirt the rest of the way off and through it into the hamper before flopping back on my bed.
My mind keeps replaying it. Adding that memory to my new found fantasies. The exciting thrill of warm fingers trailing up my chest... pulling at my clothes. Of soft, yet powerfully demanding, raspberry coated lips that parted enough...
I taste minty? You taste like honey. Pure and sweet and as warm and golden as your hair. You taste refreshing, like a cool drink on a hot day. You taste so...
I remember, your eyes were closed so tightly, you dark lashes resting on your cheeks while mine were wide open. This... kiss. It was wrong... Best friends don't kiss. But I never wanted to stop.
I closed my eyes briefly before looking at him. He seems to be reading my mind... his knowing smirk.
Before I know it, your gone... my hands want to take you, to pull you close again. But my mind dictates that if the lip gloss wasn't removed, there was no way I would stop from going down on you... not after those past weeks.
I told you it was fine. Fine fails to define it... but more elaboration and you might just know how deeply I had been shaken.
The memories subside, but I'm still here. And you're still my best friend. And there is nothing I will do... or can do about this, other than to try and forget. I can't risk our friendship on my subconscious's perverse dreams and slants on a simple conversation and a party trick.
After all, I like Lana. Lana Lang, the perfect girl. My dream girl. The girl that I love.
I can only hope if I say it enough it will sound convincing... even to myself.
-end-
by Chiri
AN: Kinda a follow up to CimC only (only!) a few changes. ClarkBar is telling the story this time and it's his thoughts spanning "Shimmer" and "Hug" cause... yeah. And as they say in anime, Clark's being a little bit of a hentai.. or, basically a pervert. Meaning, thinking like a teenage boy. ^___^ Spoilers all over the place. Really, it's disgusting the way I spoil season 1. He's also half adressing this to a certain blone and half telling it to some one. That's just how he came out. ^^
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It's not supposed to be like this. I'm not supposed to worry about or think about or even try to imagine what's running over and over in my mind. You. Are NOT. Supposed to be. In my mind. Like this.
NOT like this.
It's criminal. Horrible. Nobody is supposed to view their best friend of the opposite sex like this. Not their best friend.
Best friends aren't supposed to creep up into dreams like this. They aren't supposed to take the place of long time crushes. I should not be having a perfectly good fantasy go astray like this. I should imagine myself with Lana. Not having one minute and then watching raven locks turn to golden silk, chocolate eyes turn to orbs of azure, or a golden tan melt into a peaches and cream complexion.
The first time it happened I freaked out. Ripped straight through sheets, horrified that I had just ... used my memories of you like that.
You should never be used. Ever.
Especially by your best friend.
I'm laying on my bed right now. I'm icing up my shoulder - my shirt is kind of half on or half off right now. I don't know why, but my mind brings up you.
For the past month, always you.
I shouldn't be thinking this way. It's not fair. Did you do this on purpose? Was it a plan of yours to open up this can of worms inside my head? To try and sabotage what had been a comfortable liking of the girl next door? Was the innocent sarcasm just a ploy to trick me into this?
The ice is melting and has slipped off my shoulder. I feel it, but pay no attention. Bruises are new to me, but this.. thing crawling around in my head is far newer and harder to understand than my body's reaction to bullets.
Oh, you started off as usual. The situation was normal for us. You do the research, we figure it out together, I save the day. It's kind of our mode of opperandi. Even when you freaked cause your hand disappeared. For Smallville, it was normal. It didn't take me long to through out a guess...
"If you rubbed that all over your body, you'd be..."
"Naked?"
I'm not sure what happened in my head then... I remember answering that you'd be see-through. In the end, it turned out you were right as well. Zach was naked... and invisible.
But... something happened in-between your response and my reply. Somehow the word naked and you became linked. Naked became linked to rubbing and all over and body. And you. It seems like everything is related to you.
The whole reformatting shocked me. Scared me. Because... I fear, I liked it more than I should have.
It's all your fault.
I'm seeing things now... or imagining. Probably imagining. But until I can control what my dreams are doing, I can do nothing but imagine. I swore I saw you check me out.
But that's impossible. We're best friends. You would never do that, your the one who wanted to brush off my first attraction for friendship. That's what you want. I have no right to say anything because I'm a delusional teenage male.
I tried to play cool about it. I tried to deny it to myself. But somewhere along the line, I seemed to be moving closer to you. Scooting closer in at biology. Sharing a terminal in the Torch Office. It wasn't a big deal. I didn't notice it much... until I noticed you weren't even paying attention.
A touch, a brush, a stare. Any excuse to get closer. I officially called it a problem when I realized my telescope was focused on your room for almost a week.
It's sick. Perverse. Almost as messed up as my dreams... or my life when you're not around. Sports Ilustrated's swimsuit issue isn't worth even thinking off. I can't enjoy anything of that sort. Because I think of you. Girls half naked turns the word naked in my mind and that turns to you.
And then I go strolling down that part of Chloe-Lane where feelings and thoughts are about as far from platonic as the mind can get. I've never had to try and turn off dreams this... vivid before. And there are situations I hope never to see in real life.
Swimming for one. That's a double threat. There is you in a swimming suit (which leads to that whole half-naked / naked / you / you naked thing) and sun screen (which brings up a whole new set of problems with rubbing and all over... and naked again.)
You are my best friend. You shouldn't haunt my dreams. And not just at night. During the day. When I see you in PE. When I see you smile. Whenever I see you. Smell you. Think of you. You've intoxicated me... And I can't get you out of my skin.
And just when I was recovering, this new thing happens to me. I was beginning not to have to carry my books so low, or not have my breath hitch whenever I saw you. Or not constantly call and reach for you while I sleep.
Even when our hands brushed when before we met Lex in the Beanery, I could hold back. I could tell myself that I was stopping. I had been distancing myself. I could reach that small bit of friendship in the sea of changing emotions.
But... it didn't take long for Kyle to change that now did it?
The ice is gone. I peel the water soaked shirt the rest of the way off and through it into the hamper before flopping back on my bed.
My mind keeps replaying it. Adding that memory to my new found fantasies. The exciting thrill of warm fingers trailing up my chest... pulling at my clothes. Of soft, yet powerfully demanding, raspberry coated lips that parted enough...
I taste minty? You taste like honey. Pure and sweet and as warm and golden as your hair. You taste refreshing, like a cool drink on a hot day. You taste so...
I remember, your eyes were closed so tightly, you dark lashes resting on your cheeks while mine were wide open. This... kiss. It was wrong... Best friends don't kiss. But I never wanted to stop.
I closed my eyes briefly before looking at him. He seems to be reading my mind... his knowing smirk.
Before I know it, your gone... my hands want to take you, to pull you close again. But my mind dictates that if the lip gloss wasn't removed, there was no way I would stop from going down on you... not after those past weeks.
I told you it was fine. Fine fails to define it... but more elaboration and you might just know how deeply I had been shaken.
The memories subside, but I'm still here. And you're still my best friend. And there is nothing I will do... or can do about this, other than to try and forget. I can't risk our friendship on my subconscious's perverse dreams and slants on a simple conversation and a party trick.
After all, I like Lana. Lana Lang, the perfect girl. My dream girl. The girl that I love.
I can only hope if I say it enough it will sound convincing... even to myself.
-end-
