Disclaimer: One Tree Hill and its characters belong to Mark Schwahn, The CW, etc. I'm simply whoring them for my own amusement.
Spoilers/Warnings: Mostly this thing is futuristic, but I've borrowed a few things from Season 5. Namely Owen.
Summary: It wasn't his fault, but she couldn't see anything beyond her despair, beyond her loss. Well, he'd lost, too. He despaired, too. But he was the enemy, he didn't get to have feelings. LP NH BO
—
07. Flirting With the Tiniest Notion
In the weeks that followed Peyton and Lucas settled into a routine. Their children were ecstatic to have him home so she'd left daycare drop-off and after school pick up to Lucas choosing to focus on her label and the interference that Mia's acting career was wreaking on her music career.
She'd grown accustomed to Luke's presence, sharing her bathroom and her bed, sometimes waking up in his arms, his knee between her legs, his nose buried in her hair. She cherished those mornings, reveling in them until Lucas woke and she feigned sleep. She didn't want him to catch her smiling as she wished for something that may never be.
He never asked for more than she was willing to give, even one night when they'd gathered in the den and watched a movie together. During the penultimate love scene, they'd looked at each other awkwardly from their sides of the sofa. There was no doubt that they were both feeling the effects of the lack of sex in their relationship. Yet neither of them attempted to rectify the situation. Things were going good. Sex would muck it up. She had no doubt about that.
When she woke that morning, Peyton knew that she was alone in bed the second her eyes opened. Her husband's familiar weight was gone, leaving the bed lighter and her feeling abandoned yet again.
Donning her robe she headed downstairs. She headed straight for the living room, expecting to find Lucas sprawled out on the sofa. It was empty. She peeked out the window to see if his SUV was in the drive, but it was still there. That left his study. Backtracking, she headed toward the back of the house where his study was located; the door was shut.
Pushing it open, she found Lucas there, asleep at his desk, his head resting beside his keyboard. She crossed to the room, touching his shoulder, shaking him softly. "Luke, Luke…"
His head snapped up at once, a little disoriented at first. "Peyton?" he questioned, blinking at her in an obvious attempt to compose himself. "What time is it?" he asked, rubbing his eyes and yawning.
"It's almost eight. You fell asleep in your office."
"Don't be ridiculous," he told her. Then, he looked around and murmured, "Oh. So I did."
"Did you get some writing done?"
Lucas stood up to stretch out his limbs as he boasted, "Three chapters." Man, his neck hurt like a bitch. Note to self: do not sleep on desk, not comfortable. He wouldn't do that again. Next time he'd take himself off to his bed with his laptop and fall asleep like normal people did—in his bed with his computer on his lap.
"Luke, that's great!" she said, pleased that his muse was cooperating. It was such a fickle thing, sometimes, for writers. Some days they could write ten pages and other days they were lucky if they could write ten words. Three chapters was a feat!
"Insomnia is good for something now and again, I guess." As he cracked bones that were stiff and aching, he told her, "This time was different than the last time that I didn't sleep in bed. Honest."
"Inspiration struck and it had to be appeased. I get it. Don't worry about it. Are you hungry?" His stomach growled at the mere mention of food. "I guess that's my answer." Lucas watched as she headed toward the door, announcing, "I'll go start breakfast." At the door, she stopped to remind him, "I'm taking the girls shopping with Haley and Brooke today so you'll have to watch Dillon."
Lucas waited until the door closed before he uttered, "Fuck."
—
It was just after nine in the morning when Lucas took refuge outside, eager to be out of Peyton's vicinity and the war that she was waging with their daughters. By the time they'd had breakfast, Peyton realized that they were running late. The girls, not early to rise, wanted to spend their Saturday morning in front of the television and blatantly ignored their mother when she instructed them to go on upstairs and get dressed. The yelling had started soon thereafter which was why he was outside now. He had just sat down on the steps with his coffee when Haley pulled into the driveway.
"You look like hell," Haley commented, as she climbed out of her car, joining Lucas on the steps.
"Nice to see you, too, Hales," he remarked dryly, taking a sip of his coffee. "I don't think Peyton's ready. She and the girls were…having a disagreement last I checked."
A mother of a young girl herself, Haley understood. "Ah. Bethy and I had one of those, uh, disagreements ourselves this morning."
"How'd you compromise?"
"We didn't. I slipped her a five dollar bill and promised her a new doll." Lucas laughed, smothering a yawn at the same time. "Something tells me that you're not in babysitter mood today."
Lucas nodded, acquiescing. "Pretty astute, aren't you? I would be if I wouldn't have stayed up until six this morning writing." He wished Peyton would've reminded him about the shopping excursion. Maybe then he would've told his muse to take a nap and he could've gotten the appropriate amount of rest that would render him able to parent his two year old properly. Without several pots of coffee he had no doubt that he'd be napping with Dillon quite often today.
"The new novel is going somewhere, I take it."
He scoffed. "Go ahead and say it. You know you want to."
"Finally." She grinned at him, nudging his shoulder with hers. "Seriously, though. I'm proud of you, Luke. That you kept yourself occupied with work the last few months. I know that I hid it well, but I was worried about you."
"I know you were. Peyton and I are lucky that you, Brooke, and everybody cared about us so much. I hate to think what would've happened to us without you guys."
"Obviously, we would've had you committed to a mental hospital for your porn addiction and we would've married Peyton off to the mailman. He is looking pretty hot these days, you know."
"Why are we friends again?"
Hearing the door open behind him, he and Haley turned as Peyton poked her head out the door. "Haley! Hey. How long have you been here?"
"A few minutes."
"Is he bothering you? Lucas, you better not put her in a bad mood."
"I love the faith the two of you have in me," he grumbled.
Standing up, Haley asked Peyton, "So, you ready? We still have to swing by Brooke's and you know Brooke, she's always running late."
"Let me just hustle up the girls. Last I checked Becca was helping Gilly find her shoes."
After Peyton disappeared back into the house, Haley turned back to Lucas. "You know you could always go and hang out with Nathan. He and Jamie are going to spend the day in front of the TV with the Wii."
"Tempting, but I don't think so. I think Dill and I are going to stay home. Play with blocks. Eat Play Doh. Watch endless amounts of Wonder Pets. Fun stuff."
"Sounds like. However will you control yourself?"
Lucas shrugged. "I haven't the faintest idea." He struggled to his feet, pouring the remainder of his coffee into Peyton's rose bush.
"She would skin you alive if she saw you do that," Haley teased as she followed him inside.
"She won't know if you don't tell her," he whispered as Haley shut the door behind them. They walked into the kitchen, finding Becca sitting at the table, silently staring at the back of a box of Trix. "What you doing?" he asked, brushing a kiss atop her head. "Where's Mom?"
"Upstairs with Dillon and Gilly."
At that moment, Peyton walked into the kitchen, Dillon perched on her hip, her purse tucked beneath her arm. "All set?" he asked as Peyton handed Dillon off to him.
"He's been fed and changed. I've been looking for Nippy, but I can't find him."
"I found him!" Gilly declared as she ran into the room, brandishing Dillon's pacifier with its Nippy the Bear holder. She handed it to her brother who hastily scooped it up, pulling it to his chest with a delighted squeal. "Can we go now?" she directed the question at Haley.
Peyton pressed a kiss to Dillon's cheek then leaned over to brandish the same goodbye to Lucas. He moved his head at the same moment and their lips met. She should have been shocked, dismayed; she was neither. She took a step back but Lucas cupped the back of her head and pulled her closer, deepening the kiss, swallowing her gasp with his mouth.
They were blind to their audience, their children, to everything but this little stolen moment, this little step forward that they were taking. They heard whispers and shuffling and were cognitively aware of the toddler between them. When Lucas attempted to pull Peyton closer, Dillon let out a cry of distress. They pulled apart.
Lucas bounced Dillon, soothing him as he stared over his son's head at his wife. She hadn't moved away and had that dreamy look in her eyes, the same that had overtaken his entire body. He watched as she touched her mouth with her fingertips, fighting back a smile as she told him, "You ruined my lipstick."
A genuine laugh escaped his mouth, prompting him to snicker, "Don't expect me to apologize for it."
Silence fell between them for a moment, and then Peyton gasped, "You surprised me."
"Well, you kissed me first."
"And you deepened it."
"Need I point out that you didn't pull away?"
Sighing, Peyton knew that there was no denying it. She wanted her husband. He could've kissed her nose and she would've wept with happiness. They'd been sleeping in the same bed for the better part of a month and in that time she'd been hoping, praying really, for Lucas to make a move, to pull her into his arms, sooth her with his kisses and his touch. She'd lie in bed and remember the last time they made love. It'd been a night or two before Christopher's death and it'd been hard and fast, not slow and languid like they both preferred. "I'm not made of wood, Lucas. I feel. I…want."
"Do you?" he murmured.
She recognized that murmur, that tone. It was his say-anything-more-and-you'll-be-on-the-f
loor-with-your-legs-in-the-air tone. She swallowed. A second time for good measure. "Haley's waiting for me." She turned to leave, but his voice stopped her.
"We'll have to talk about it, Peyton."
She glanced over her shoulder. "I thought we just did."
"I meant alone. Tonight."
The scared part of her yearned to find an excuse, tell him that a kiss didn't mean anything. She knew that wasn't true. This was them, Lucas and Peyton. A kiss meant everything. She simply nodded, agreeing, "Tonight," before she left the room to join Haley and her daughters, both anticipating and dreading the night that awaited her.
—
Lucas was sitting in the living room reading when Peyton arrived home, a sleeping Gilly in her arms, Becca barely awake beside her. Quickly, he bookmarked his page and ran to help his wife, taking Gilly from her. "Daddy, I'm sleepy," his daughter informed him as he settled her against his chest.
"I know, honey. Daddy's gonna get you upstairs and into bed."
"Don't forget to spray the monsters," she told him groggily as he began to ascend the stairs.
Lucas knew that Peyton was right behind him, helping Becca climb each step. Stopping, he turned to his wife, "You want me to carry her?"
Peyton shook her head. "No, no. We're fine. She's easier to settle than Gilly. Besides you have monsters to exterminate."
He smiled and resumed his journey to the second floor. There he went right and Peyton went left into the girl's respective rooms. They had discussed putting the two of them in one room, but Becca had objected, no doubt to her sister's insistence about the monsters that lived in the closet, under her bed and watched her sleep from the tree outside the window.
Lucas pulled back Gilly's pink striped sheets and laid his daughter down for a moment to gather her pajamas. He gently removed her stockings and dress and managed to get her nightgown over her head without waking her. After pressing a kiss to her forehead, he grabbed the monster repellant and did his duty. Gilly used woke screaming like a banshee when he didn't. At the door, he stopped to stare at his daughter for a long moment before he made his way to his bedroom, his feet heavy with each step.
Peyton was already there, he could hear her in the bathroom. Before he could do anything, even gather his thoughts, she walked out, her hair pulled back into a ponytail, her face scrubbed clean. She hadn't yet changed out of the dress she'd left in that morning; the satiny floral fabric clung to her as he longed to.
She didn't speak as she moved to the chest of drawers and began rummaging for her own pajamas. Peyton pushed aside cotton nightshirts and lacy nighties, finding fault and dissatisfaction with each one. After a few minutes, she shut the drawer, her hands empty. "This is ridiculous." She turned to him. "I'm nervous as hell, Lucas," she admitted, her hands shaking. "I don't…I don't know what I want. I mean, I do. Of course I do. I just don't know if I'm strong enough to let myself have it."
"Well. That's fair."
"Is it?" She sincerely doubted it.
"Peyton, you know that I want you. That kiss this morning…it was more than I expected. I'm grateful I got that much."
"I'm not leading you on, Lucas. And if it feels like I am, I don't mean to be that way."
He shrugged. "I'll admit that it's not easy sleeping with you and being around you without…but I manage. I sleep on my hands. I… take care of it myself, when it comes to that." She shot him a look and he met it head on. He wasn't ashamed of the fact. He should be, but he wasn't. He was being respectful. He was waiting for her to come to him. "I'm not going to goad you into it. It wouldn't be any fun if I had to do that. When you want me, you know where to find me."
"And if I said I wanted you now, tonight?"
Normally he wouldn't second-guess her; after all, Peyton had always been absolute in what she wanted. She was different now. Losing Christopher and nearly losing their marriage had changed her. He had to tread carefully even if he'd have to spend another month relieving the burn with his hand. A little reluctantly, he said, "I'd say you're probably doing it for my benefit and tell you that it's not necessary."
"But maybe we should just get it over with?"
He scowled at her. "You make it sound like a school bake sale that you have to suffer through. Thanks."
"No, no, that's not what I meant," she assured him. "It's just…the last time…the last time I remember how perfect everything was. Christopher was still alive and there wasn't this…this awkwardness between us."
"Yeah. We certainly didn't have to chat about sex. We just had it."
"Precisely my point. We should just have it. If you want to."
"That's like asking me if I want to breathe, Peyton," he said through clenched teeth.
Right. He was a man. A man who hadn't had sex in…months. She didn't want to ask, but she had to. "While we were apart…you didn't…?"
His temper flared for a moment but he subdued it. How could she even ask him that? She was being safe, though. He couldn't begrudge her that. If he'd thought for a second that she'd…while they'd been separated… He banished the thought with a shake of his head. Just the thought threatened to undo him. "No. I didn't. I wanted you." He smiled that boyish smile of his that she loved so much. "I want you." Slowly, Lucas crossed the room watching with amusement as Peyton backed up, finding herself trapped against the bureau. "Nothing has to happen that you're not ready for," he told her as he stopped in front of her.
Peyton sighed. "Maybe we should ease into it."
He smiled triumphantly. "We don't have to have sex. We could just…play."
"Monopoly or Jenga," she quipped, aware that he wasn't talking about board games.
"Oh, Monopoly. Definitely."
"Can I be the banker?" His right eyebrow lifted. "Do not pass Go. Do not collect $200."
She expected him to say something crass, something sexual. She didn't expect him to say, "Thank you."
"For what?" she asked, honestly confused.
"For letting me come home. For giving us another chance. For…all sorts of things."
"I was wrong about a lot, Lucas. I realize that now. I wanted answers. I wanted a reason why our baby was dead and the cops and the coroner couldn't give me one. So I lashed out. I needed someone to blame and that someone turned out to be you. I was horrible to you."
He shook his head. "No. No, you weren't—"
"Yes, I was. I was mean and unyielding and I pushed you away. I made a mess of everything." She broke away from him, eager to confess the feelings that had been toiling about inside her. It wasn't the same kind of confession about love and passion that Lucas had expressed recently, but she'd get there. For now she had to explain. He had to know that it wasn't him…that it was her.
"When I think about those months that you were gone…my God. You could've…you could've had an affair. You could've filed for divorce. You could've done so many things just to hurt me, as I know I hurt you." She faced him, finding him staring at her, his face gone white. "I did, didn't I?"
"Yes," he said simply.
"How come you didn't…?"
Lucas knew what she was asking. "I thought about it. I didn't want either of us to be miserable. But I loved you. Even when you were ignoring me or being as mean to me as you could be, I soothed my pride with the overwhelming love that I have for you. In the end, I knew I couldn't do it. I couldn't go to a lawyer and tell him to dissolve our marriage because I didn't want it dissolved. I wanted us, our family. But if that's what you wanted, I wouldn't contest, I wouldn't fight. If you were happier without me, then, well, at least you'd be happy. At the time I would've died to see you smile again."
Peyton smiled, just for him, because he made her happy. Smiling wasn't enough. She wanted to show him how happy he made her. She wanted to show him that he hadn't lost her, that he wouldn't. That she loved him. She reached for the hem of her dress, lifting it over her head. Lucas said not a word. Not when the dress fell at his feet or when she turned off the lights. However, when she reached behind her back for the clasp of her bra, he held out his hand and growled, "Wait."
"If you turn me down, so help me God…"
Laughing, Lucas said, "No, no," as he crossed the room toward her. Stopping in front of her, he cocked his head to the side, studying her, before asking, "Unless you were aiming to do a striptease? Because if so, the floor is yours." He said this with a step back and a flourish of his hand.
"Would you like a striptease?"
"I've had my fair share of stripteases over the last few weeks, thank you very much."
Her eyes bugged. "I have not!" she exclaimed, outraged.
"Not purposefully, no. To my utter disappointment."
Her hands on her hips, she said, "This is a one-time offer, Lucas. Going once. Going twice." She waved. "Oh, there it goes."
Lucas hauled her into his arms, smothering a laugh as she squealed. "Liar. I can get you to strip for me if I so choose."
"You think so? Who do you think you are, buddy?"
"I'm your husband."
His playful mood was contagious. "You're too tall to be my husband. Promise you won't tell him about this?"
"Why? Is he the jealous type?"
"The worst."
"It's because he loves you so much."
The tenderness in his voice, in his eyes, broke something inside Peyton, her defenses, that last wall that separated them. "I love you, too."
Then he was kissing her, ravaging her mouth with a need that consumed him. Wrapping her tight in his arms, Lucas lifted her and carried her to the bed, his mouth never leaving hers. He laid her down atop the blankets, not bothering to strip the bed or move them out of the way. He covered her body with his, taking care not to abrade her soft skin with his clothes. Her hands were at his waist, simply resting, then they were coasting up his back, taking his shirt with them. They stopped kissing long enough for her to throw his shirt over the side of the bed.
Lucas rolled them over so that Peyton was looming above him. He was in awe as she pulled out her ponytail, her curls flowing free and around her shoulders. "Wow," he gasped. As if that wasn't enough to render him speechless, she reached around her back and unclasped her bra. "Tell me I'm not dreaming."
"You're not dreaming."
"Good. Because if I am… don't wake me up." He sat up, one arm curving around her back, tongue flitting out to flick her pebbled nipple. "Mmm. Just like I remember."
Peyton groaned, grinding against him. "Luke…"
"Shh. Just let me…"
She huffed. "Fine. If you insist."
He flipped her onto her back, amused when she took the chance to pop the button on his jeans and slid the zipper down. "Well. All you had to do was ask." She tried to snake her hand inside, but he grabbed her wrists and held them to the bed. "Do that and this'll be over in two seconds."
"But—" she started.
"I waited. Now it's your turn."
She scowled up at him. A scowl that quickly turned into a leer. The sudden change shocked him until he realized that she was up to something. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him down on top of her. Her lips landed at his ear, licking, nibbling. He tried to pull away, but the moan that escaped his lips already told his wife that she was successful in her endeavor. He heard her giggle even as he felt her open his jeans wide, her small hand reaching inside to wrap her fingers around his swollen length.
"Peyton…please…"
"Please, what?"
Lucas couldn't think properly. "Please."
Indulging him, she held him firmly and slowly began to stroke. Up, down, up, down. Peyton didn't increase her momentum until Lucas asked, hell he practically begged. To help the process along, she leaned up to nibble his ear, but it had the opposite effect. Instead of a moan, Lucas growled. He pushed her hands away, flattening her back against the mattress. He yanked at her panties and when his efforts were hindered by their entangled limbs, he simply tore them.
"Those were my favorite panties!" she exclaimed as he tossed the silky scraps over his shoulder.
"Like you don't have a whole drawer full." Lucas leapt off the bed long enough to shuck his pants, then he was lying atop Peyton, pushing her thighs open with his knee, his hand snaking between. He touched her softly, just to make sure that she was ready for him. He grinned down at her.
"Don't look so pleased with yourself."
Lucas kissed Peyton to quiet her, sliding inside of her as he thrust his tongue into her mouth. She was warm and wet and…home. Overwhelmed, he stopped to stare at her. Peyton kept her eyes trained on him, breathless and confused. "Tell me you won't regret this in the morning."
"I won't."
"I don't think I could bear it, Peyton."
Peyton expelled a frustrated sigh that felt odd yet delightful considering their precarious position. "Am I going to have to goad you into this?"
"You might have to. I'm feeling some reservations."
"You're feeling some—" Peyton repeated even as he pulsed and lengthened inside her. "If you're having second thoughts, I'm going to sleep." She attempted to sit up, but he pushed her back with a hand to her chest.
"I don't think so. I'm not finished with you."
"How could you be finished? You never started."
It was as if no time had passed, like nothing had changed, Lucas mused as he pulled out only to thrust back in a moment later. They shelved conversation and surrendered to passion, Peyton's moans and pants inciting his own desires.
Peyton came hard and fast, surprising them both with the scream that emitted from her throat. Lost in the moment, she sunk her teeth into Luke's shoulder, prompting his own release.
Sated, they lay together, the room silent aside from their breathless pants. Lucas looked at his wife, beautifully disheveled and clearly spent. "So?"
"What? You're not expecting a score, are you?"
He laughed. "No, of course not." Then, "But if you have one I'm happy to hear it."
Peyton smacked his arm, playfully, feeling light and, above else, happy. She ran her fingers over his shoulder, where she'd bit him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…did it hurt?"
"It was a good kind of pain." He fell to his back beside her, breathing deeply. "Are you sleepy?"
Peyton shook her head, smiling wickedly as she climbed atop him. "Not at all."