A/N: Hey guys! Sorry this took a while. I had hoped to get it all done in four days but writing smut from Beetlejuice's POV is damned tricky business! Hope it was worth the wait and thank you for all of the reviews and favs! Out we go with a bang! :D

Two Years

By; Fair Drea

Chapter Four

Beetlejuce had lost track of how many times he'd thought of kissing Lydia. How he'd hold her, how she'd react, how wild it would be. Thoughts were thoughts though. They didn't involve trying to think past "oh shit, now what?" which was the point he was currently at.

Aside from the tiny noise she'd initially made, Lydia hadn't made another sound. She stood completely still, her lips unmoving, her wide eyes staring up at his. Which he hadn't shut. Because he wasn't thinking. Clearly he wasn't thinking.

He jerked back, trying not to let it show just how confused, embarrassed, angry and hurt he was, telling himself that each emotion was stupid as shit and he was better than that. And then she started crying.

"Aw, Babes. Don't do that," he muttered, afraid to touch her and yet wanting to more than he ever had ever wanted to touch anything in his afterlife.

She lunged forward, taking him by surprise, and then those soft, pouty dark lips were all over his, her arms were around his neck and she was pressed against him in a way that stirred up every wicked, Lydia-centered fantasy in the back of his head. Shock quickly wore off and he slid his hands into her hair, gripping fistfulls and kissing her back as if he were starving simply for a taste of her. And he was. He'd wanted nothing more than to drown in the taste of Lydia since the day that the curves of that body had started teasing him.

He shoved her back against the door, one hand dropping to her waist and stealing around it to pull her closer still. She made the tiniest sound. It was hardly anything – a breathy sigh caught between them. And yet it drove him out of his mind.

"I missed you so much," she sobbed brokenly against his lips, as unwilling as he was to stop what they'd precariously started.

"Missed you too, Babes. It was hell." He found it in him to move away. Framing her face between his hands, he rested his forehead against hers and tried to pull himself together. It was pointless. She could take one look at him and he would fall apart all over again.

"I love you, Lyds." The words were out before he could even think them.

She closed her eyes, drawing in a trembling breath and releasing it as she sagged against him. "The best friend kind of love?"

He grinned, a chuckle rising in his throat. "The thought-about-screwin' –your-brains-out-every-day-you-were-gone kind of love."

He had expected her to laugh, to take some of the tension out of the moment because that tension was starting to drive him nuts. He didn't do tension. He didn't do emotions. And what was happening now was putting him in the position to do both, regardless of whether or not he wanted to.

Instead, she slid her hands over his shoulders and down his chest, her gaze burning just as much as her touch did. The lust flashing in her eyes clashed with the tears still staining her cheeks as she leaned up, stopped a mere breath away from his mouth and murmured, "I thought about that too."

"Yeah?" he couldn't help asking, swallowing hard as she inched closer still, her sultry gaze holding his.

She hummed little "m-hm" and he nearly groaned. How the hell did she learn how to make noises like that? To cause him to revert to human behavior without even realizing it?

"Every night. I had to talk myself out of getting on countless planes, coming back to tell you that I loved you, that I needed-."

Where ever she was going with that, he didn't care. He yanked her back to him, slanting his mouth over hers and catching her startled gasp. He didn't stop at just a simple kiss this time. He mercilessly nipped at her bottom lip, ran his tongue over it until her lips parted. He took full advantage, deepening the kiss until every shred of modesty, all traces wariness fell away, leaving behind desire and greed.

Lydia shuddered, her nails biting into his shoulders. He tightened his hold on her and lifted her, groaning as her legs wrapped around his waist. The creature he'd set free was one he'd dreamed about countless nights – alive, wanton, driven by her carnal nature. He could taste her desperation, her love for him…the life so vibrant and addictive. It was far more potent than Arcynide had ever been. The only difference was that he could function even when he was drowning in it. He couldn't think, but he could sure as hell function.

She tore herself away and pulled her poncho over her head, tossing it aside and he was rewarded with the briefest glance of perfection before she was kissing him again.

"Tell me what else ya did," he muttered. He had no clue where the command had come from but suddenly he really wanted to know the answer to that question.

He could feel her lips turn up in an impish grin.

"Sometimes…I'd lay awake at night and think about what it would be like…sleeping with you. What you would do, how it would make me feel. When thinking about it wasn't enough, I'd touch myself. I'd close my eyes tight and pretend it was you."

"Cripes, Lyds, you really did that?" he managed, the image of her touching herself nearly snapping what little control remained.

She pulled away, her wide eyes regarding him seriously. "Didn't you?"

She was serious. She was dead serious. She wanted him to admit to something he'd never admitted to a soul as freely as she had. This game wasn't supposed to turn around on him. He'd just been curious. But the way she was looking at him…

"Yeah…yeah, I did," he said, smiling a little. "Couldn't stop wantin' ya even when I tried."

"Why would you try?"

"Dunno…because I didn't think I could have ya."

She brushed her nose against his. "You can have me now," she whispered.

He hadn't needed permission. But the way she had said it…there was something there that said more than just having her. It said having her, it said loving her, it said being everything to her. She'd never belong to a breather. She'd never give one a shot. He was it for her and…if he'd just take her.

"Lydia…there's no turnin' back from this. You'll be mine…and that'll be it. A dead guy and a breather…for the rest of your life."

She brushed her nails along the curve of his jaw. "I've always been yours, Beej. I always will be yours. A breather and a dead guy…for the rest of my life." That impish smile was back, doing things to him that he hadn't felt in years, making his gut twist and a heart that hadn't beat in ages pound furiously. "Now…if you'll kindly get on with it before I have to take care of matters on my own-."

He cackled, leaning down to bite her neck. She gasped, unconsciously pressing her scantily clad breasts against his chest. "You got it, Babes."

"And if you even think about making some kind of dumb pun-."

"Aw, Babes…come on. I'm as serious as a corpse."

Her laughter was lost against his lips as she leaned down to kiss him, her tongue brushing slowly over his and pulling a groan of surrender from him. Turning, he kicked the front door shut and juiced the lock, making sure there would be no interruptions. He had years to make up for and every intention of taking days to do it. Now, if he could only get to the bedroom…

But the way she was kissing him, the impatient press of her hips against his, her nails raking down his back-.

Screw it, location didn't matter. The wall was about as damn good as it was going to get. At least for now. And he could help but think it was pretty fitting that the wall just happened to be the thick glass enclosure of the worm farm he'd built for her.

Stumbling a little, he braced her against the chilled surface, his hands gripping her hips as he drug his teeth down the pale column of her neck, over that delectable dip of her collar bone and down between the black lace he would soon be doing away with. Soon, but not yet. He nuzzled her right breast, the soft flesh so hot against his. Her heart pounded unsteadily there, jumping when his mouth closed around the lace covered nipple and his teeth nipped playfully.

Sagging against the glass, a slow smile curving her lips, Lydia closed her eyes. Her hands twined through his hair but didn't hold him. He moved to the other breast, roughly grasping it in his hand before teasing the nipple between his tongue and teeth, being much less careful. He grinned when she moaned low in her throat, her head dropping forward and her body trembling. So, his Lyds liked it a little rough, did she? That was good to know.

Releasing her breast, he skimmed his hand over her ribs, down the flat of her stomach and ran his fingertips along the curve of her hip bone until they touched the waistline of one of the many remaining barriers between them.

No problem there-.

He slid his hand between her legs and pressed his palm against her. She arched against him, making a delectable sound of need. He was starting to love those sounds more and more, wondering just how many different ones she was capable of making and how he could go about finding out. If he pressed his fingers against her heat-.

Lydia cried out and pushed away from him, unwrapping her legs. He would have complained long and loud had she not wiggled her way out of those leggings and shown him how little she was wearing underneath. Which…was a whole lot of nothing.

"Babes-."

"What?" she asked, her smile coy, "I'm not allowed to go commando?"

"Never said that," he muttered, his eyes glued to her. "When did you…how…I mean…wha-."

"Wow, speechless? There's something new." She turned from him, looking over her shoulder as she reached back to unclasp her bra which quickly joined the growing pile of clothing on the floor. "They have some great spas in Spain. I started to frequent one, especially after becoming addicted to wax jobs. I'm guessing you like?"

He managed a nod. Not much of one, but he managed. "Yeeeah, I like."

Facing him once more, a Goddess in her nudity, Lydia closed the distance between them with a few delicate steps. Her hands went to the clasps of his overalls.

"I think…that I shouldn't be the only one naked right now," she murmured. A light tug and the straps slipped back over his shoulders as the stiff fabric pooled at his feet. Next, she went for the buttons of his shirt, her nimble fingers quickly working the buttons free then pushing the shirt from his shoulders, her gaze hot and eager.

An annoying part of him was humbled. He'd never thought some knock out like Lydia would want to see him without any clothing on, let alone touch him. But that's exactly what she was doing, running her hands along his sides, down to the waist line of his boxers where they rested briefly.

"You okay, Beej?"

He couldn't find an answer. All he could do was stare down at her, the girl turned woman that he needed more than he'd ever admit. His best friend, soon to be so much more. Curling a hand around her neck and drawing her close, he nudged her tiny nose with his and was rewarded with a blinding smile.

"Better than I've ever been, Babes."

The task of stripping him forgotten, Lydia wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him with gentle reverence. "You're about to be a lot better," she promised, her voice a thick whisper of emotion that didn't do a damn thing to for the intended suggestion.

He lifted her in his arms, and carried her to the bedroom where he laid her on the bed and then just stood there for a moment staring down at her. One leg was slightly bent, an arm was stretched over her head and dark eyes filled with an endearing mixture of lust and wariness watched him just as closely as he watched her.

He could ask her if she wanted this, he could ask her if she was sure. He could give her that option to back down now before they officially shattered what slivers of friendship remained. But he didn't want to. Months wasted poisoning himself, wanting her to the point of insanity, kept him from giving her a chance to rethink her decision. There would be plenty of time to explore the nuances of a sexual relationship. Now…he was going to take what he wanted…and damn the fucking consequences if there were any.

Like there'll be any, he thought as he divulged himself of his boxers and joined her in bed, nearly falling into those outstretched arms that promised him everything.

I'm never gonna be perfect, Babes…nowhere near. I'm never gonna be that guy you deserve-.

He trapped her hands over her head, ran his tongue up the smooth column of her neck where the pulse beat so strong.

I'm gonna always be a million different kinds of wrong for ya. Never gonna be the guy you can bring home to your folks.

Her legs wrapped around him, pulling him close and he kissed her deeply as he pushed into her, swallowing her sharp cry of pleasure.

But I'll always know ya better than anyone. You're mine. Mine now…mine when you move on…

Lydia clung to him, her body moving in effortless synch with his. She altered between sobbing his name, pleading him, saying things he couldn't even understand.

I'll love ya more than any guy – dead or alive – ever will.

Her cries became more fevered, her body going so unbelievably tense beneath his, so hot that it scalded his cold skin. He slid an arm under her, pulled her close and thrust into her, his teeth sinking into the skin of her shoulder and as his name left her beautiful lips in a broken cry of triumphant, he groaned and finally found the release he'd been craving for years.

He could feel the weakness that washed over her with her release, felt it drag him with. Collapsing next to her, he pulled her into his arms, stroking her hair and loving her so much that it damn near hurt.

One day, he'd tell her about the Arcynide, about the lengths he'd gone to deal with not having her for two years. Right now, he would just hold her and love her with everything he had because those two years had been hell. The next two though and every single one after, he thought with a grin, kissing her temple where the hair lay matted to the skin from her sweat - the next two were going to be pretty damn amazing.