#going nowhere

—Forever the People: Six Months on the Road with Oasis by Paolo Hewitt, 1997

If anything ever seriously bothered our Noel, he'd never talk about it; he always preferred to keep it to himself. Noel was a total daydreamer. He was always telling stories about what he'd got up to. We were pretty skint as a family at that time, but Noel would spin stories to the kids saying we had this and that, and we'd done this or that. I got a bit resentful about his stories, so when he'd been bullshitting some kid that he'd scored ten goals playing football in the park, I'd stand there and say that he didn't score any at all. Not a very endearing trait, but because he had a way of making his stories interesting and funny, it niggled me; perhaps that's where the first seeds of the Gallagher brothers' resentments were sown.

—Brothers: from childhood to Oasis: the real story by Paul Gallagher, 1997

I could do with a motor car Maybe a Jaguar Maybe a plane or a day of fame I wanna be a millionaire So can you take me there Wanna be wild ’cos my life’s so tame Here am I, Going nowhere on a train Here am I, Growing older in the rain

"Warmer now, then? Room's heatin' up."

You let a soft "yeah" escape your lips, not eager for the inevitability but unwilling to be rude about it. Ignoring him was impossible.

"Want me to move then?"

It almost slipped out again. "Y...What?"

"To my own wee blanket then? Just didnae want you to feel awkward about this."

This. Your naked body pressed against his, freezing rain-soaked clothes discarded and drying on the abandoned safe-house hearth, your shivering form thawing around his warmth, huddling under a single blizzard trauma blanket ripped from its pack as soon as possible after the flint first sparked a flame.

Soap had turned quickly after cracking a wooden chair into spliters and lighting the fire, reacting even faster upon seeing the blue crept deeper into your lips and fingertips. No hesitation just precision movements designed to get you dry and warm, and though he'd been in the unexpected downpour hours less than you he stripped as well, as if oblivious to the way his heat, his body, would affect you.

This. A feeling growing throughout your recovery; one you didn't want to let go of, though you knew you needed to before desire took over. Despite your dire straits, you couldn't deny it felt nice, protocols be damned. But he was waiting for your response, wasn't he?

As an answer, like a timid prayer, reluctant to allow a thought to linger on the possible fallout, you eased a thigh over his and nuzzled closer into the minimal space left between you two.

"Don't...don't go," you whispered into the soft hair of his chest, warming breath fanning across his form along with your fingertips.

If you had the strength, you'd brace for a gentle shove before he climbed out from under the cover, but sinking deeper into this embrace was all you wanted in the moment, the mission lost in a haze of wood smoke and what you were sure was a bad decision. Sgt. Mactavish didn't want you like this.

Months of tamping down your foolish lust for the crush developed shortly after joining the 141 had led to wet dreams and sneaking off into small closets alone, eager to release the heat he clearly wasn't aware he was stoking. Fingers down your own pants, breath trembling quietly in the dark with ache for your sargent.

Except he didn't stop you, did he?

He smoothed a calloused hand along your back, fingers snaking along your neck to press your head even closer. Another palm draping over your flank, a less-than-gentlemanly squeeze.

"Didnae think that's what'd ye want, but had to ask, didnae I? Ye've been needing it aye? Think ye've been hiding it?" His deep brogue thick and low in your ear as he held you close, voice soothing, dissolving any mortification you might feel at the fact that you hadn't been as covert about your feelings as you imagined. You did not resist the way he not-so-gently push-pulled you along his thigh, quivering at the sensation of your core writhing over taut muscles.

"Thought we dried you good and well, yet here ye are dripping on my thigh. Aye, needing it, for sure."

You moved your hand in response, lower, across his abdomen, fingers brushing the crease of his groin. The small gasp that slipped free from your now-warm lips wasn't so much from shock as relief. He let you settle the weight of your palm on his stiffening cock and made no move to prevent it. You could practically hear his eyelids flutter closed with intoxication on his deep inhale.

"Aye," he spoke again, throbbing and hard as you answered with urgent strokes along his heated length. "Needy. Been wondering about you. Gonna let me find out now, eh?"

It only took a hint of a nod before he had your lips trapped against his, a groan rolling in his throat while your mouth widened to let his tongue taste you. Your whimpers spurred him to increase the pressure of his hand along your hip. Moans of pleasure emanated from you as you road his thigh with a singular focus before his hand slipped from behind your neck and over your cheek so he could wrench two fingers in as you gasped for air.

"Fuckin' knew it." You could hear the smirk in his voice as you wrapped your lips around the digits hooked at the corner of your mouth, tonguing the slit between them and leaving a trail of saliva along their length.

He let you slobber a while longer, waited as you rode your way through a crescendo, and while you were left gasping he deftly scooped as much spit from your mouth as he could and flipped you to your back, settling his weight between your open legs.

"Not that ya need it, your fuckin' soaked as it is, just..." He wrapped his wet fingers around his girth, tugging to spread the slick, eyes dark and grin lusty as he spoke again before notching his tip at your dripping pussy. "Yeah, this'll be nice for ya."

"Fuck, you're so big, Soap," you moaned, feeling more than seeing what he was working with.

"C'mon then," he cooed, fingers back at your lips. "Let's get a little more there. Tha's it."

He wiped the extra spit from your mouth around your edges as he eased himself in, cursing at the tight, wet heat, almost pleading for mercy himself like it wasn't his idea. Then he turned his dirty talk on you while he took you apart slowly on the floor.

"Just so ya know, we're doing this missionary, because that's what the blanket allows," he paused to peck at the side of your mouth before stealing another deep tongue kiss, then continuing his verbal onslaught. "But jesus fuck are there things I wanna to do ya. Ya gonna let me when we get back, huh? Let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours with my cock the way you let me get my fingers in there, aye? Wanna get ye over my face as well, have ye sit right down and grind this sopping pussy against my lips, stick my tongue so far in you won't know what end's up, nip at your hard little clit and lap up all the juice you'll spill into my throat. Swallow you all down then flip you around, sink my aching hard cock deep inside you. Know you'll still be creaming and calling my name just like ye are right now. Won't stop, hen. Not even if you beg. Not till I know you've truly had enough."

He was speaking your language now.

"Want it all, Johnny," you cried and wondered if it was a mistake to call him by the name you'd only ever heard Simon use. He answered with a growl and redoubled effort, shifting his hips faster, friction building more heat under the blanket. "All of you. Want your fingers and hands all over me, in me. Your lips and tongue. Fuck!" You shouted as he pressed in deep and angled up to find what he'd been looking for all along.

"Every orifice, hen. All these pretty holes. Slick you up. Slide right in. Make space. Ghost'll be jealous, aye? You gonna let him play too? We've been thinking of ye." He didn't slow his stream of conscious monolog, though the pistoning of his hips had settled back into an easy, deliberate grind as you opened your eyes wide at the admission. "Hoisted in between us, taking us both so deep. Such a good girl, knew you would be."

"Y...Both?" you stuttered, unsure how this miserable failed mission had turned into the beginning of all your fantasies come true.

"Yeah, hen. That alright? Wanna try that with us? Cannae wait to get your legs hooked over his elbows, opened up nice and wide for 'im. I'll get you steady from the back, aye? Yeah, we've been thinkin' what it would be like to feel you squeeze around us, tight and hot, wet and soaked for us."

A few minutes ago you were coming hard to the realization that your sargent did want you like this and now your mind was exploding, sending shockwaves to the walls of your pussy as you clenched at the though that they both wanted you, not just Soap. He could feel it, too.

why did he sing shout it out loud (and every which way we turn / always seems insane / but it makes me feel alive) twice in march 2013 and twice in march 2015 and never again before or since?

why did he suddenly add going nowhere (here am i getting lost and lonely / sad and only) to his setlist in 2023 when it was never even performed with oasis??

but mostly what the fuck was happening in december 2015?? d'yer wanna be a spaceman (but if you wanna be a spaceman it's still not too late), last performed in 1996, sang a bunch in 2012, then brought back in december 2015 and 2016.

sad song (don't throw it all away), last performed in 1995, and brought back in december 2015 and 2016.

cast no shadow (as they took his soul they stole his pride) only ever performed solo three times in december 2015.