Authors Note: Again, don't own anything atall. Stephen Schwartz for the nifty chapter titles, and Gregory Maguire for the characters and book. Thankie. Authors Warning: This fic is weird.
Clandestine
Chapter 2: In Pursuit of Excellence
After that, so to speak, it was all water under the bridge. Hell and secret.
She remembers his fingers earnestly pushing her underwear to one side, his body spooning hers, his digits fluttering like butterflies on her clit.
The abandoned closet smelling of dust and stereotype; yeah, she remembers all of that.
The way her back arched when he entered from behind, and how good it felt when he slammed into her, her long black skirt hiked up to her waist. And when they'd do it marital style, how her fingers would dig little crescent Vinkus teacups on his pale muscular back, and ridiculously riddled with erotic hate, she would wish them to scar.
She remembers one afternoon in particular when he stumbled in her room, silent as usual, but different. Usually they would never show emotion with the exception of lust, which, as people know, isn't really an emotion but a sin of the scriptures.
"Good grief, what's wrong with you?" She didn't really mean to say it, period, and much less meant to say it strangled sarcastically.
He almost started at the novelty of communication between them.
"Concerned? This late in the game?" He silenced whatever she was obliged to say next with his pants dropping to the floor and pounced on her earnestly waiting body. He started with his tongue in her lower body this time, unusual for a selfish self-gratifying bastard like him. She gasped at the warm, probing strangeness that made her green self rack with decadent shivers. She whimpered, which she never does, and the Gillikinese raised an eyebrow but kept to his pleasuring.
Why not, she replied to the conventional voices in her head. Why not, she replied as she stared straight ahead at that blonde hair, bobbing up and down, and dipping from angle to angle.
Up until this point, Avaric decided and considered long and hard about suicide. Failing one of his classes-boring lectures with Sir Figury, the resident Geographical Philosophy teacher-was just the beginning of his end. Not that he actually cared what loomed beyond the great deserts of outer Oz, but it seemed indeed unfortunate since this time he actually needed that grade to apply for an internship at Oz Central.
Elphaba's inattentive eyes fluttered with every dart of his tongue. Shenshen or Pfannee problems, she reasoned to the best of her diverted attention. Yes, probably that.
He couldn't get erect in front of Shenshen; the problem was equally apparent in front of Pfannee even, he admitted guiltily, Miss Milla. He beat it, he spit in his hand and beat it, he swiveled his hips when they took it in their mouths, he rubbed it against their sex, he pushed it between breasts, he even tried desperate strange measures such as asphyxiation and bondage.
Then again, he shamefully considered. What desperate strange measure doesn't include fucking the green girl?
Elphaba whimpered some more as he squirmed his fingers into her. When she overheard Shenshen gossiping to other girls about how great of a man he was in bed, she shrugged. Elphaba never understood why they all wanted him like that. She shrugged. He wasn't that big anyway.
Not compared to that Quadling boy, anyway.
But she digressed, and lost herself in the pleasure of his tongue and hands. Oh Unnamed God, those hands were blessed. She loved the silky feeling of a rich boy's hand and tongue attacking her sex willingly in a naughty effort, she reasoned, to secure a spot in hell.
He stopped, and she felt the smooth underside of a finger sketch soft letters on a particular spot. He moved his head up and peered at her in curiosity.
She paused for a second, not quite knowing how to explain herself. "Snake bite", unintentionally slipped out. She thought, as usual, he would go back to his "work" and ignore any possibility of comprehension, and therefore was quite surprised to see his handsome face still hovering above her abdomen.
"A snake bit you here? How is this possible?" He lightly fingered her scar, a darker green than her body, it shaped a side V shape. "Very" she responded curtly, now propping herself on her elbows. "Very possible."
"What were you, naked somewhere in the forest?" He sneered at that, as if the idea of it seemed very lower-class, but also hardened at that, the secretive taboo of it all.
"My pretty, naked doesn't even begin to cover it." With his apparent appendix bulging, she flashed a bit of sharp teeth. "Sit up, boy. Mama's going to tell you a story." He complied and sat up so that his erection pressed lightly on her pelvic bone. She breathed in.
"In Ovvels when I was about sixteen, I left the safety of the house to explore. There's a forest three miles from my home, yet the roots of the trees were swallowed by swampland. Through trial and error, I managed to discover that swamp water, in that area anyway, could not harm me." She stole a glance at him, finding his face rearranged in a bored manner. "And I prefer the company of other women."
"What?"
She continued, though, unabashed. "So you were listening. Anyway, I stopped at a tree, removed my clothing, and proceeded to wade in this odd swamp water naked. I climbed to the highest root above the water as I could find to rest for a moment. I saw a Snake curled around the base of the tree, as thick and huge as the tree itself."
"I don't recall ever being there."
"I said thick and huge, not tiny and invisible. So, this Snake creeps her head towards me, her eyes all sad and strange, and says…no, hisses, 'I'm sorry, Caine.' Sinks her teeth into my into my leg," she pointed to her inner thigh, tense and shaking as if remembering further, "and all I can think is how painful it is, the blood and venom coursing down my leg…" She shuddered. He instinctively lifted his arm in sympathy, then dropped it as soon as his conscious brain switched back on.
Her hair flew in black droplets around her face as she shook the memory off. "Not important." She murmured. "Not important." She repeated.
She would speak no more of that, even as they lay panting and done. This time, she noticed he accidentally kissed her skin in the heat of sex, uncommon as he only touched her sex, nipples, and mouth with his lips.
Parts that weren't green, she noted.
And she found herself dumb, as usual, and not being able to even breathe. She had a nightmare that night, of whispers hissing Caine, sweet Caine, ill-favored Caine…Not your fault, Caine.
Thou mayest, Caine. Sorry sweet.
She shuddered awake, sweat already clammy in the night-like morning. Elphaba ran her fingers through her mussed hair, and proceeded to stand to douse the sheets with oil before Glinda came back. Glinda had gone to try to talk to Ama Clutch after some ball, and that's why she was able to fuck Avaric so hard last night?
A sudden glint of gold distracted her from her cleaning, and she turned to face two glaring lake-blue eyes.
"Explain. Now."
Before she opened her mouth, she wondered quickly if the Unnamed God loved snakes at all.