Jordan Parrish (houndofhell) wrote in fortitudeic, @ 2016-02-20 13:23:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, jordan parrish, lydia martin |
WHO: Lydia Martin and Jordan Parrish
WHAT: Hanging out
WHEN: Wednesday
WHERE: His place
WARNINGS: TBD
STATUS: Closed/Completed Gdoc
Despite seeming like she hardly ever took things personally, Lydia didn’t like when people hated her. Not that she’d ever tell anyone that - she absorbed it and forced herself to think it was their own problem. But somewhere deep inside, it still hurt. And it hurt here that so many people had taken an instant dislike to her. But! It wasn’t her fault. They were probably just jealous.
Still, she was really looking forward to getting to Parrish’s this evening so that she could be with someone she felt really liked her for her. There weren’t very many of those in the world. She’d learned that the hard way.
She climbed the steps to his townhouse, dressed in a very short pair of shorts that she’d expertly cut off and a t-shirt that barely held in her cleavage. She had dirt under her fingernails that she couldn’t seem to get out, no matter how many times she washed them, but other than that, she looked as beautiful and somehow classy as ever. After knocking at the door, she stood there, picking at her cuticles in disgust.
***
Parrish opened the door and inwardly groaned. Lydia seemed determined to drive him absolutely crazy with the way she was dressed. Yes, he wanted to sleep with her, he would have to be dead not to, but he was intent on waiting a little while before doing so. He was a respectful kind of guy and he also wanted to find out for sure that there was a long term birth control solution available at camp.
“Hey, Lydia,” he said, hoping that his smile hid his reaction and carefully training his eyes on her face. “Come on in. I was going to make some pasta, if you’re hungry.”
***
Shockingly, for the first time in her life, Lydia wished she’d dressed more conservatively. At the dance, she’d been desperately trying to seduce him, but now...well...she didn’t know how to explain it but she wanted more than that,
Of course she caught his look - Lydia was intelligent and observant - but she completely ignored it because for now all she wanted was to be somewhere safe with someone who knew who she was and who accepted her for it.
It had been a long time.
Lydia’s first reaction was to ask him if he knew how many carbs there were in pasta, but she let that die on the tip of her tongue.
“That sounds great.”
***
They couldn’t be terribly choosy about what they were going to eat when they were trapped in a camp surrounded by untold legions of monsters, so it was probably for the best that Lydia didn’t say anything about the amount of carbs in pasta or Parrish would have pointed that out.
Instead, he leaned down to kiss her cheek when she entered the house. “Looks like you had a rough day. You want to grab a shower while I cook?” He was sure he could find something clean for her to wear.
He didn’t think about how he could really get used to the easy domesticity they seemed to be sharing lately.
***
She looked up at him, something in her expression turning very soft, and she nodded.
“Yeah, I’ve been out in the fields all day. I ache all over. Hot water sounds amazing.” She stepped up on her toes to kiss his cheek before making her way to the bathroom.
She spent a good amount of time in there, just letting the water pour over her, thinking of everything that had occurred since her arrival here. When she finally finished, she found a set of clean clothes waiting for her and smiled. They were obviously his, and would obviously be far too big on her, but they’d also cover get up a little more, which she was just in the mood for right now. What she didn't realize was how much their shapelessness and men’s cut emphasized her shapely and very female body.
Barefoot, she padded down to the kitchen and leaned over his shoulder on her tiptoes to look at the cooking food.
“Almost done?”
***
While Lydia was in the shower, Parrish got a pot of water boiling and dumped a jar of spaghetti sauce into a saucepan to simmer. They didn’t have much to work with, but he did chop up a few fresh vegetables from the gardens and add them to the sauce. He just dumped the noodles into the boiling water when she came into the kitchen.
He turned and was blown away by the fact that she somehow managed to be even sexier in his too large clothing that covered her more than her own did. He deserved a medal for his restraint.
“Should be about six minutes,” he said, glancing at the clock. “Feel better?”
***
“Yeah,” she said simply. She felt a lot better now. The hot water had relaxed her and had massaged some of the tension out of her shoulders. And the prospect of spending the evening with Jordan helped too. Here with him was about the only place she could be where she felt...well...comfortable. Understood.
And it was a good feeling. It had been a long time since she’d had anything at all like it.
Lydia wasn’t particularly good at ‘going slow’ - she’d never really done it before - but it was kind of comforting to know that nothing would be expected of her tonight. That she could just relax.
“Manual labor is exhausting,” she replied, maybe just a little dramatically.
***
Parrish smiled. He was no stranger to manual labor thanks to his time in the military and he could only imagine how much of a shock it was on the system to someone like Lydia who wasn’t used to it. “It gets easier,” he assured her. “The longer you do it, the more your body adjusts.”
The idea of Lydia farming was pretty amusing to anyone who knew her, but it was an important part of keeping the camp running.
“If you want, I can rub your back after dinner,” he offered.
***
To most of Lydia’s previous boyfriends, that would have been a pathetic attempt at seduction, and one that would have been particularly eye-roll-worthy. But with Jordan...well, she was pretty sure he meant it. And she was pretty sure that if it stopped at just a back rub, he’d be okay with it. Which Lydia had to admit to herself was kind of sexier than the boyfriends she’d had before who seemed to see doing nice things for her as something that deserved payment.
“I’m sunburned, too,” she sighed. “I’m not exactly used to being out that much, and there’s not sunscreen here.” She smiled. “But I would love that.”
***
“Next time there’s a supply run, we should look for sunscreen,” Parrish said. “The last thing we need is for you or anyone else to get burned so bad that you end up sick.” He had seen that happen to guys in Afghanistan and it was unpleasant.
Too bad he couldn’t somehow share his ability with her. He assumed that being resistant to burns also meant not getting sunburned, though he hadn’t had the opportunity to test it.
***
Lydia had never seen anyone get sick from the sun, but she didn’t like the idea one little bit, and her thoughtful pout showed it. Then she hopped up on her toes to get some plates and glasses out of the cabinet, then grabbed some silverware.
“Are you good at backrubs?”
***
Parrish checked the time, not wanting to overcook the pasta, and then glanced over his shoulder with a smile. “I don’t know. Guess we’ll find out.” Six years living in a predominantly male setting meant that he hadn’t had much opportunity to practice his backrub skills.
Hopefully he wouldn’t disappoint Lydia with his skills, or lackthereof.
***
“I’m willing to be your Guinea pig,” she said with a smile. She felt that he couldn’t possibly be that bad. And a bad back rub was still better than no back rub at all.
Opening the fridge to get out some milk, she was pouring it into the glasses with her back towards him. She didn’t want to face him when she was speaking, because thinking about what she was going to say made her feel too raw.
“They don’t seem to like me much, here.”
Lydia knew that it was ridiculous, after everything that had happened, for that to matter at all. But somehow it still did.
***
It didn’t take a genius to see that Lydia occasionally said things that put people off. Parrish didn’t really understand much about teenage girls, but he knew that it was common for them to have personality conflicts. Hopefully time would ease those.
“People don’t understand you,” he said carefully, knowing he needed to choose his words wisely so he didn’t risk upsetting her further. “They don’t know how brilliant you are or what you’ve survived. I think that makes it hard for them to accept your ideas.”
There was also the way she presented her ideas, as if she was the only one around who had such thoughts, but he wasn’t going to touch that.
***
Probably a good thing that he didn’t; it wouldn’t ingratiate him with her.
“And yet we can’t talk about that, because who knows what they’d think if they found out what I am, what I can do, and what I’ve been through?”
They’d throw her out to get eaten by the infected, that’s what they’d do. And they’d probably laugh and cheer while they did it.
***
Given some of the other people being open about their own, uh… quirks, Parrish didn’t think that there would be any danger in opening up about who and what they were, but he was willing to keep that thought to himself for now, knowing the others didn’t agree.
“You can still let them get to know you,” he said. “And make an effort to get to know them. Maybe ask more questions about the things the others have been through, both here and back home.” Rather than just forging ahead and acting like everyone should listen to her ideas.
Even though Lydia liked to hide behind a facade, if people actually took the time to talk to her, they would see the vulnerabilities that lay beneath, just like he did.
***
Let people get to know her. Lydia didn’t actually do that very often, and for good reason. It was dangerous, and you were sure to end up getting yourself hurt in the end. Better to act like you were supremely confident and that nothing bothered you. Sometimes you even started believing it yourself. She had.
More questions than answers. Maybe that would be good. Maybe she should just go back to the way she’d been with Jackson, hiding that she knew things, pretending she was just as flighty as most people thought she was. Maybe that would make life here safer.
“Maybe,” she said, sitting in a chair finally, resting her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand.
***
Parrish glanced over at her and was struck with the urge to go and kiss her. He couldn’t though, since it was time to drain the pasta. Carefully, he dumped the hot water through the strainer in his sink, catching the noodles. “Should I mix these with the sauce?” he asked. “Or do you want to add the sauce yourself?”
It was probably a good idea to shift away from more serious conversation topics. They were both tired and he didn’t want to take the chance of further upsetting Lydia when she was clearly already having a rough time. Hopefully some food and relaxation would perk her up a little.
***
“I like it on top,” she said. Not mixed in, but on top of it so that she could pull out the noodles that had just a tiny bit of sauce on them...and those that had none at all. She knew it was weird, but she dared anyone to judge her.
She smiled at him though, and considered making an inappropriate comment using the double entendre for her words, but actually blushed and looked away.
“It smells good.”
***
She didn’t need to make the inappropriate comment for Parrish’s mind to stray there. Luckily, he managed to look away before his own cheeks flushed. “I hope it tastes good,” he said. “We aren’t exactly dealing with gourmet options here.”
Not that he was complaining. He knew they were lucky to have what they did and wasn’t exactly looking forward to when it was his team’s turn to go out on a supply run.
***
“At least there’s food,” she said logically. After all, not having food was far worse than this. And sometimes, Lydia was capable of not actually acting entitled.
“Sit. Let’s have dinner.”
Maybe for a few minutes, they could act like things were normal.
***
Parrish dumped the pasta back in the pot and carried both it and the pot of sauce over to the table. One nice thing about his abilities was not needing to worry about oven mitts. His mother would probably have a heart attack at him serving food on the table out of the pots it was cooked in, but he didn’t see any reason to make more dishes.
Besides, at least they were putting the food on plates this time and not eating straight out of the pot like they did with Lydia’s mac and cheese after the infected managed to get through the fence.
“How was your day, honey?” he asked, giving her a grin.
***
Lydia made a rather adorable snort as she served herself.
“Well, I did the ironing, and darned your socks...and then I went and did some grocery shopping! I got something special for you for dinner, dearest, because you just work so hard, and I know it’s my job to please you in any way I can, so…”
She gagged, rolling her eyes painfully.
“Actually, I hoed peas all day. My back is killing me.”
***
At least he kind of made her laugh. Parrish liked it when Lydia smiled and it seemed all too rare of an occurrence. Especially since they ended up in this place.
“Peas are good though,” he said. “We’re lucky that this place has fertile soil and we can grow our own food.” He spent enough time in the desert to know that wasn’t the case everywhere and he couldn’t imagine how bad off they would be if they had to rely solely on their supply runs now that more people were arriving at camp all the time.
It was hard work though and he appreciated that Lydia put forth the effort.
***
Despite how much she hated the work, Lydia did recognize that it was crucially important. They had to eat and farming was one of the most crucial parts of surviving here. A successful series of crops could keep them alive even if several supply raids failed.
That didn’t mean she liked it, though.
She took a bite of her food, delicately, and then took a larger one, not as delicately. She didn’t realize how hungry she’d been - but she’d worked so hard today that she figured she’d deserved it.
Before she knew it, the food was gone, and she blotted her mouth with a napkin.
“Now, about that backrub?” Because she really needed it.
***
Parrish was focused on his own food. He may not have done the kind of manual labor that Lydia did all day, but he was still fairly active and needed the fuel. It was nice, being able to eat together in comfortable silence. He wasn’t always the biggest talker and it was never uncomfortable with Lydia.
“Let me wash up these dishes real quick,” he said, not wanting to leave a mess for his housemate. “Why don’t you go and get comfortable? I’ll only be a few minutes.”
***
Lydia usually was a talker, but it was kind of comforting not to have to be with Jordan. They could just be together and not have to force it. She adored it.
She nodded, glad to be able to get out of the dishes. She headed into the living room, and put up her hair to get it out of the way, and took off her bra, hanging it on a chair. She still had a shirt on - it wasn’t a come on or anything of the sort. It was just easier to do backrubs without that in the way.
Then she lay down on her stomach on the couch and waited for him to finish.
***
Part of Parrish wanted to suggest giving her the backrub in his bedroom, just in case she fell asleep, but he didn’t want her to think he was making a move, so he was totally fine with sticking to the living room. He managed to finish the dishes quickly and he was drying his hands on his jeans when he walked into the living room. He noticed Lydia’s bra hanging on the chair and pointedly ignored it.
He awkwardly joined her on the sofa, kneeling so he was straddling her legs and could reach her back easily. “Okay, you have to let me know if i hurt you at all,” he said, starting off with easy pressure as he moved his hands across her back, fingers searching for any obvious knots or otherwise tender spots.
***
Lydia had never done so much manual labor in her life as she’d done today, so there were plenty of knots and tender spots to be found. She closed her eyes, sighing contentedly as his gentle hands seemed to find them all without any prompting from her. And if that wasn’t perfect enough, it was comforting (and perhaps a bit strange) to know that she wouldn’t be expected to pay him back for this with sex. All of her past backrubs had required payment. Not that she’d particularly minded, but there was something just so…perfect about this, and it was so relaxing to know that there were no expectations.
“You’re not hurting me,” she said, her voice sounding almost like a purr. Not that she’d thought he would, but she wanted to assure him of it so that he didn’t stop. Not yet.
***
There were a few knots that seemed particularly difficult and Parrish knew he was going to have to increase the pressure to work those out. He was proud of Lydia for the hard work she was doing and hoped that he could at least ease some of her discomfort until her body adjusted. Plus, it was nice to just be close and have an excuse to touch her. Sure, he knew that he could probably do a lot more than give her a backrub if he wanted to, she had made that obvious, but he didn’t want to rush into something like that.
His fingers sought a tough knot and he pushed a little harder, watching for any sign that he was causing pain instead of relief.
***
Lydia let out a little gasp, but it wasn’t a bad one. It was more the shock of that particular knot being pointed out to her, and the feeling of it fighting his fingers. It finally succumbed, though, and she felt like she was turning to jelly.
“You are good at this, by the way.”
Very good. And she couldn’t help but wonder if he was this good with his hands all the time.
***
“That’s good to know,” Parrish said.
Having her lying beneath him this way, especially when she let out that little gasp, was making it difficult for him not to have a physical reaction, but he didn’t want Lydia to think that his offer of a backrub was anything more than it was. He shifted a bit, making sure that she wouldn’t accidentally feel evidence of his reaction against her legs.
***
Lydia wasn’t likely to notice much of anything right now except for his hands. She’d been in more pain and discomfort than she’d even realized at first, and it was such a relief to have some of it worked away. She was also amazed by the fact that she’d thrown herself at him (and was slightly embarrassed by that fact), and he’d said no, not because he didn’t want to (she knew that he did), but because he was a genuinely nice guy. There weren’t very many of those in the world, and she certainly wasn’t the type to find the few who existed.
Except now, it seemed like she’d gotten really lucky.
She shifted a little, leaning her head on the throw pillow, very close to falling asleep.
***