scott mccall is manly as hell (teenwolfie) wrote in blackpoint, @ 2014-02-12 11:28:00 |
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Lydia had slipped into Scott’s place with relative ease, her lockpicking skills were rarely useful - especially with Allison around, who had taught her in the first place - but in this case they’d come in handy. When she first arrived, Lydia immediately went into exploration mode, before finally settling on his closet. A closet, she might add, that was probably not as full as she hoped. But she found a shirt that suited her needs and carefully folded her clothes and slipped into it. It was unfair and she knew it. But being unfair had never stopped her from doing things in the past. The timing was terrible, while they were still in the middle of figuring out a ritual that was going to keep Stiles from being taken over by a dark spirit, but she’d never been good at coping in a healthy manner. And it’d been more than six months since she had sex, Lydia was fully willing to admit she was getting a little desperate. If a backrub and a little seduction was how she was going to get it, she didn’t have any regrets about playing dirty. She placed her bag next to his bed, grabbed a few demonology books and Scott’s calculus textbook and settled onto his bed on her stomach. The calc homework was done quickly and in handwriting as messy as she could manage while still making it legible - with one or two mistakes thrown in so that the teacher wouldn’t suspect he was cheating. The demonology text kept her interest piqued much more than the simple math did, and she was flipping a page just as she heard the door unlock. If you asked Scott if he knew what he was doing, you wouldn't get a very good answer out of him. At any given time, he didn't know what he was doing, not really. Generally, Stiles was the man with the plans and Scott was the one who made them happen. He made suggestions and he saw things others might miss, but in the grand scheme of things? Scott was pretty clueless. But he knew what was happening now and he knew he wasn't making things any less complicated for him or Lydia. It started earlier that day when he had gone to put sunscreen on her back. It had taken most of his willpower not to do anything stupid or maybe exactly what she planned for him to do, at the sight and feel of the creamy skin of her back. Scott had restrained himself and then he had jumped into the water to clear his head of all the lusty thoughts swirling around in there. The werewolf knew if he had made a move, she probably would have been receptive and he wouldn't be in the position he was in now, but his own weird restrictions were keeping him from just going for it. And he couldn't expend a lot of energy trying to figure it out because Stiles was possibly possessed and he needed to help his best friend first. However, he couldn't research every hour of every day and he knew he would be useless if he didn't take the occasional break. That's what earlier with Lydia on the beach was. That's what the run with Isaac that he was coming back from was. Coming back to his room and smelling Lydia's unique scent...he wasn't sure if he could quantify it as a break. But his overwhelming need to see where it went overrode any common sense. Scott wasn't sure what waited for him behind that door, but he didn't hesitate for too long to open it. When he did, his heart nearly stopped at the sight that greeted him. Lydia. Lydia on his bed, which wasn't that surprising considering she had warned him she was going to break in. It was Lydia on his bed wearing his shirt that was tripping him up. "Uh." There was a part of her that wanted to laugh, chuckle, grin - whatever - at the look on Scott’s face when he caught her appearance. But she managed to keep it in, more for his pride than anything else. She popped her bare legs up in the air, crossed at her ankles, and swung them slightly, looking up at Scott with the most innocent expression she could muster. It wasn’t entirely convincing, since innocent typically wasn’t her thing, but she always had been a decent actress. “What, no ‘Honey, I’m home’?” The remark was laced with sarcastic humor as she looked up at him. It took a lot to impress her, usually, and Scott definitely fit the bill. Always had, even when his hair was longer (more to run her fingers through, she remembered that fondly) and he was just an innocent pup. Now, he was still an innocent pup, but had fallen down a few notches on the spectrum with a little added life experience. He still hit every button she had, damnit, and that wasn’t an admission she came by lightly. Lydia was tempted to sit up and move toward him, further her plan quicker rather than later, but held fast. Scott was like a startled deer with that expression, and if she rushed even quicker, she’d end up with him running away rather than staring dumbfounded at her. And she much preferred to be stared at. Instead, she just gestured down to the book she was read. “Don’t mind me, I’m just compiling a list of latin phrases used to exorcise demons, for later.” He opened his mouth like he had something to say and snapped it shut immediately because he had no idea where to start. All witty banter, what little he was capable of, had left him while his brain tried to reboot itself. Faster, he thought to his brain. Give me something to say! He knew if he opened his mouth now, all he would get out was something completely lame and he didn't want to be that guy anymore - the one that was made fun of because he had no clue. So better to wait a few seconds before saying the first, possibly inappropriate thing, to come to mind. What he finally arrived at was, "I didn't think Lydia Martin would stoop to playing so unfairly." Okay, so that wasn't witty and pretty lame, but at least it wasn't another 'Uh.' His eyes were, however, firmly on the expanse of skin she offered with those bare legs peeking out from under his shirt. He itched to shuck his clothes and finally give into what had been building for awhile now, but he stayed firmly by the door, which he finally closed behind him. "I'm going to go take a shower," he added, not yet moving. In return, Lydia’s eyeroll was worthy of Cersei Lannister. He wasn’t wrong, but she didn’t need it pointed out to know that. She was still considering this little meeting a win, considering where he kept staring and the response she’d gathered had clearly been positive. She definitely wasn’t worried about Isaac (not that she had been before) now. “I didn’t think Scott McCall was dumb enough to think I wouldn’t play unfairly.” In her mind, the end justified the means, with some exceptions. Few exceptions. Fewer than Scott’s, but more than Allison’s. It was a nice little waypoint that bridged the gap between the two, Lydia often being the center-minded and logical one helping Stiles, while Allison and Scott were the doer’s. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and Lydia had no problem stepping up to be a doer. Waving a hand in his direction, she looked back down at the book like she was reading it again. She wasn’t, but he didn’t need to know that. “Do that, I’m not even a werewolf and I think you stink.” With the door closed, the evidence of the run he had been on was obvious. If he didn't crack a window and take a shower now, it was going to get overwhelming fast. The way she worked at sounding so dismissive had him smiling because he knew for a fact that if she wasn't interested in him or what was going on, she wouldn't have bothered sticking around. "Be back in a minute," he said, grinning as he grabbed a few essentials out of his dresser. He paused to crack open a window, before disappearing into the bathroom. It was, easily, the fastest shower he had ever taken. This was counting the times he had jumped into a river or stream and deciding it was "good enough." It was a miracle he hadn't cracked his head open on wet tile with how fast he moved, but in no time he was returning to his bedroom dressed in his normal pjs and hair curled at the ends with wetness. Scott seemed a lot less confident now than he did before the shower, as if he had washed away his confidence with the sweat and grime. Hovering by the bed and not sure if he should sit or not, he started to babble. "I was mostly kidding about the backrub. We could research instead." Lydia had absently been flipping through the book while he was gone, raising an eyebrow only when the water seemed to turn off as quickly as it had turned on. Either he was extremely efficient or extremely impatient - or a bit of both - and she couldn’t help the little smile that emerged at the latter thought. It was always good to know she still had it. Rolling to her side as he came in, she ran a hand through her hair, pulling the curls over her shoulder in a practiced, effortless move. “At least you’re not wearing the ninja turtle onesie.” Lydia’s typical dry tone was softened slightly as she gave him a slow once over. She closed the book and let it slide to the floor, a sure sign of exactly what her answer to his suggestion was going to be. Leaning over, and causing Scott’s shirt to ride up her legs, she snagged her bag and pulled out a little solid massage bar. Scooting back, she brought herself up to her knees and made herself level with Scott, holding up the bar in front of him. “No getting out of it now, Scott. I came prepared.” She twirled her finger around in front of him, “Shirt off.” "You liked my ninja turtle onesie," he protested, though it was half hearted as his eyes were drawn to where his shirt was riding up on her legs. There was a very large part of him that was thinking with his boy brain, telling him to do something about that and to do something about now. The beginnings of a growl started in his throat, low, but it was abruptly killed when she brought out the massage bar and his eyes snapped back up to her face. Scott was very acutely aware of how close she was to him now and how good she smelled and that was that. Brain off, autopilot on, he reached back and grabbed the neck of his shirt, pulling it off smoothly and tossing it on the bed. "Where do you want me?" His voice was low and his mind was definitely not on the massage. “No, I didn’t. You looked ridiculous.” Lydia’s lips quirked up to a knowing smile when the growl died in his throat, but her own eyes were pulled down to his chest with the removal of his shirt. They widened slightly, and her brain still struggled to adjust to the fact that she was constantly surrounded by men that looked like this shirtless. Her tongue didn’t often get stopped up with words, but Lydia had to give herself a second before she could reply coherently. Pulling her bottom lip through her teeth, Lydia stopped her hand midair from reaching out to touch his abs and looked up at him. “Uh,” pursing her lips into a tight smile, Lydia gestured to the middle of his bed, “Right here. On your stomach.” Goddamnit. Her brain was practically beating itself up over her fumbling around like a fifteen year old virgin. She was Lydia Martin. Strong, confident Lydia Martin that didn’t get stomach flutters for anyone, no matter how nice their abs or tattoos were. He wouldn't admit to it, but there was definitely a smug look on Scott's face when he noticed he wasn't the only one affected by the atmosphere of their current situation. It was a heady feeling, knowing she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. If there was one thing that made him okay with pushing the envelope like they've been doing, it was knowing that he wasn't completely dreaming up the fact that she was interested in him. Confidence surged through him and he dared to get closer, brushing his chest against her arm under the guise of getting situated on the bed. Doing as he was told, he laid down on the bed, folding his arms under his chin and hiding a tiny smirk there. "Like this?" Lydia allowed a small, strangled noise to come out of her mouth with the brush-by, but shook her head slightly, straightened her back and forced a little composure into her stance. Even while on the bed. Huffing out a breath, Lydia glared at Scott’s back for half of a second, censuring herself silently for the stomach flutters, or the fact that her heart was definitely beating faster than she wanted it to. Giving away clues to the Werewolf on the middle of the bed was not her intention. “Look at you, fast learner.” Falling back on a little bit of sarcasm, Lydia swung a leg over Scott’s hips and settled onto his lower back, sitting up for better access to give the massage. She settled her knees on either side of him and began warming the massage bar up in her hands. “Comfortable?” All of the cool he had going for him dissipated the instant she straddled his back. He wanted to turn over and flip her onto her back, take this to what seemed like the inevitable conclusion, but he didn't. Instead he focused on her femoral pulse, where it was pressed against his back with how her thighs around him, and focused on her heartbeat. It steadied him, calmed all instincts that wanted to stake a claim because he doubted that would get him far. This was just a massage. He would make sure this just stayed at a massage even if it killed him. Scott managed to choke out a "Yeah. Very. You?" Because you could ask him for control, but asking him for an intelligent conversation was just not in the stars for him. Not at this moment, anyway. Lydia was surrounding him and his senses and it could get overwhelming if he didn't keep focused on not losing it. The warmth of her hands softened up the massage bar and covered her hands in the woodsy-smelling melted oil. Leaning forward, Lydia’s hands braced onto Scott’s lower back and she slowly pushed herself forward, moving on pure instinct. This wasn’t something she did - ever - but she’d been on the receiving end of more than a few professional massages. She was still failing at keeping her heart from pounding out of her chest, but her brain was blissfully silent, so she considered that a win. “You’re a squishier cushion than I thought you’d be, if I’m being honest.” There was no way she was going to keep this up for a half-hour, or however long the professionals did it. Pleased with her ability to smile without him seeing it, Lydia’s hands dug into the muscles under Scott’s shoulder blades, and slowly trailed down until it was just a featherlight touch on his sides, wondering if he was ticklish. Momentarily distracted from his internal mantra of 'Be cool, Scott. Be cooool,' he protested with a laugh. He squirmed a little when her unbelievably soft hands dug into his back because he might have a ticklish spot here and there. "Hey! Muscles made of steel here!" Which wasn't true because there was definitely some leftover baby fat that somehow survived puberty and the bite, but he couldn't let her get away with calling him a squishy cushion. Then his brain caught up and he asked slyly, "So you've thought about what kind of cushion I'd make, huh?" Here he cheated and focused on her pulse, to see if it world rabbit again. Sometimes he really loved being a werewolf. “Ha. If you say so, Superman.” Her hands brushed lightly against bare skin again, before dipping back down his lower back with added pressure. Lydia couldn’t help pinching a little piece of skin at his lower hip, just enough for him to feel it. He didn’t really have more than an ounce of fat on him, but teasing was a better option than just jumping him. Probably. Her body didn’t really agree, but her brain was determined to not scare him away - which was probably more than a little telling on how much he’d affected her. Wiggling her hips against his, Lydia blushed faintly and gave a silent appreciating nod at Kira’s suggestion of only the shirt. “I just figured it’d be a little more like a wooden chair than a cushy recliner.” Inching away when she started to pinch him, Scott laugh that escaped him could definitely be mistaken for a giggle. So manly. "Lydia, quit it," he said, the laughing tinting his words so it wasn't really much of a protest. But then she started to wiggle her hips against his and the laughter died away to a groan as warmth spread from the spot where they were had the most contact to his groin. Where it had been a slight concern before, now he definitely couldn't turn over without embarrassing himself. "Lydia." He didn't and couldn't say much more than her name, as he reached back with one hand to try and hold her thigh, to still her. It was then he realized he could smell her and he pressed his face into his bed, face reddening with another groan as he squeezed her her leg slightly. Scott had to force himself to let go before he did something rash, but that didn't stop his heartbeat from thumping faster, matching the pace of hers now. Lydia’s hands froze in place with her name floating through the air and hanging there. Half of her was frustrated at his level of control, with the other half cursing herself silently. This was Scott. Sweet, dependable, boyish Scott who was always there to hold her hand or give her a little support when her pride was failing fast. He was way too nice for her, way too Scott to put up with all the crazy she had to throw out there. But there was no part of Lydia that wanted to dash out of there, even though she knew she should. Her eyes squeezed shut with his groan, leg muscles tightening at his grab and she lifted herself off him very slightly, hands digging into his back. “Scott.” Her voice matched his in equal measure, “Now would be a good time to turn over. Equality for all muscles.” For a minute, a minute that dragged way too long in that tense atmosphere, he didn't say anything or move a muscle. The effect her saying his name like that was indescribable and it did nothing to clear the lust and affection he was feeling for her right then. He was trying to figure out what the right move here was, what move wouldn't result in chasing her off forever. And he couldn't find it, going through all the possibilities. He couldn't figure out what to do that wouldn't end with her thinking all he wanted her for was sex or offending her by thinking he didn't want to have sex with her. So he turned to option C, which was being as honest as he could be with her. "If I turn over, you're going to get so much more than just cupcakes made out of Reese's." He knew if this happened, if they went through with tonight, he would be more determined than ever in his efforts to pursue. Scott had to be fair and let her know that he would be relentless after, to let her know so she could change her mind about this if she wanted to. Lydia couldn’t help it, but her head forward with her laugh. Hair falling down around her head and long enough to lightly flutter against his back, it was swishing slightly as her shoulders shook with the laugh. His comment was a good indication that she should definitely put an end to this. Pat him on the back and slip off, head back to her shared apartment with Allison. Someone as sweet as Scott didn’t deserve to be corrupted by her. Blowing out a little air, Lydia ran a hand through her red strands, smoothing it back into place. “Scott, do you honestly think I came over here just to give you a back massage?” Her smile lost a little warmth, and it wasn’t the first time she was glad he had his head buried in a pillow and wasn’t looking up to see the small tinge of sadness. “If anything, you should be running away right now. Or five minutes ago.” Turning his head slightly so his words weren't completely muffled by the pillow, he huffed out a breath. "I'm not going to run away from you. Not now, not later. I like you." And he realized how ridiculous it was to have this conversation like this, so he started to turn, hoping she wouldn't point out the obvious when he did. With just enough room to turn over onto his back, he scooted up until he was sitting up again and she could sit on his legs. For a moment, he didn't know what to do with his hands, but then reached out to holds hers. "I want to do this with you, but I don't want it to be just that. I know you don't do relationships anymore, but what if...what if we just hung out more? And if you don't like it when we do, then we'll stop." He looked so hopeful, but that was Scott. He lived for hope. What should have been an opportunity for Lydia to slide forward and settle herself on Scott’s lap, had her instead sighing quietly and settling back against his thighs. She was mature enough not to mention the elephant in the room - that thought had her smirking slightly, at least - but it’d be a lie if she said she didn’t glance down. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you talk.” Why she was focusing on Scott, of all people, she still had no clue. Her inclinations had always ran toward bad guys - which was one of the main reasons why she’d put a block on dating for herself. Too many bad decisions in a short span of time that led to her pride being wounded and Lydia on her own side with only Allison joining her. That was, of course, until she’d settled in with the group. Scott and Stiles had been more supportive than the rest of the crew, generally speaking, which was one of the reasons she’d always been more drawn to Scott than any other werewolf. Keeping her face passive, not allowing any defeat to pass through onto her features, Lydia straightened her back up again. “Scott, we already hang out. I’m not looking to hurt you or break your heart or-” She cut off with a minor shake of her head, and instead of finishing her sentence she made a move like she was going to lift herself off of him. "You're not going to break my heart," he said, reaching out to stop her from leaving. He tugged her back by the hands, refusing to let her go. "You don't have to worry about my emotional state of being if this doesn't work. The only regret I would have is if we never gave us a shot. Please...give this a chance. We don't have to call it anything, but if we can continue to do this, I want to do it with you knowing I'm not looking any other girl." Lydia brought her bottom lip forward to worry on it with her teeth, eyebrows creasing as she stared ahead at Scott. It was a moment of weakness, rather than keeping her normally passive face clear of emotions, but this was a little too heavy even for her acting skills. She slid forward on his lap, hands reaching out to steady herself on his bare sides. “Everyone always says that’d be a regret, but it never ends up turning out that way. Don’t be a cliche.” One hand reached up to thread through his hair. “You’re ridiculous, Scott.” It was impossible to deny that she wanted this, especially flush against him. “Nothing in public, got it? No PDA. Telling anyone. We have other things to focus on first.” "You still like me," he teased, curling an arm around her waist and tilting his head a little to the side. "No PDAs, no telling anyone, focusing on Stiles first," he parroted back to her, adjusting his words to show he understood what she was really asking him for. At first he wanted to protest, to say he needed to let Stiles know as soon as possible, but it wasn't right to put this first like that when Stiles was dealing with so much already. He promised himself that as soon as things were calm again, he would ask her if they could tell Stiles then. But until then..."Can I kiss you now?" He raised his eyebrows, as his free hand brushed against her leg, inching its way up until he was resting his palm against the bottom of her, his, shirt. “Ugh.” Lydia’s mock disgust was short lived. It was hard to stay mad at someone who was asking permission to kiss you - not a small feat by any means. Most guys just assumed, and she had to punch them in the throat. The few pretentious guys that asked had already assumed she would say yes, and weren’t nearly as earnest as Scott. Sweet, puppy Scott. She didn’t answer his question, instead just tugged him closer and covered her mouth with his before he could get the chance to do it. |