We kissed for so much longer, moving together as if it was something we'd been put here to do. We were made to love each other. And we kissed like that through almost an entire movie when Dad got home. She scurried about when she heard the door, afraid of getting me in trouble. I already had this planned out though.
"Shh," I whisper to her, "pretend to be asleep." And she quickly catches on. She rolls onto her side and I hug her from behind. We even out our breathing by the time he has the door unlocked. When he comes in he takes in the sight of us, and I hear him sigh. I had my back facing him, thank god, because I was scared to death honestly of betraying his trust. Then again, he had never given me a time.
The TV screen was blue, us having left it after the movie was over. But we were lost, exploring the new world we'd found together. But Dad crushes that fantasy by nudging my shoulder.
"Stiles," he whispers loudly, "Stiles wake up." I blink a few times and squeeze Lydia's hand inconspicuously to let her know she should still play asleep. I turn and look up at him groggily, looking around for a moment like he's woken me from the deepest of slumbers. I yawn and look at my watch, midnight. I had never been a good actor, but I gotta admit, I think right now I'm doing a fine job.
"Sorry Dad," I whisper, carefully untangling myself from Lydia as if the gentlest of movements could harm her. He just pats my shoulder and shakes his head.
"Just head up to your room, don't wake her." And with that he's off to bed. I grin to myself and do as I'm told. But I know Lydia, she'll fall asleep fine but wake up in the middle of the night, alone here in my living room, and have a panic attack. She's terrified to be alone at night. Though she's never admitted it to me but I know she is, she always calls me at a late hour and keeps me up as long as she can, always wants to stay awake through the night, or be with me when she sleeps. I can't be so clueless to this fear; I've felt it as well. Constant paranoia that something evil will take you the second you close your eyes.
"Please don't leave me alone," Lydia fists my shirt in her hand, her beautiful green eyes pleading. I lean down once to press my lips to hers, still reveling in the fact that I can do that. Just the small action accelerates my heart, and my pulse goes crazy.
"I'll be back as soon as I know he's asleep," I tell her softly, giving her the best smile I could. It was genuine; I'd never been this happy before.
But alone in my room I was glad Dad told me to leave her down there. It gave me a chance to relieve myself of this ache in my pants. I knew it was too soon to expect Lydia to do this, and even if she would, I can't use her like that. Not until I know I'm exactly what she wants, or needs.
But I hadn't masturbated like this in weeks. It was probably one of the best experiences I've ever had, since I knew the most beautiful woman in the world was downstairs waiting for me afterward. I kept the blankets pulled up to my chest, and they were thick. They created a cavern, where sweating was easily possible. I was moving firmly, strictly. I had the biggest smile on my face, just too happy to hold anything back. And why should I hold it back?
It was so hot in here. My body was throbbing, pleasure like nothing I'd ever felt flowing through me like blue fire. The touches my mind conjured up were so real, so sincere, and so sexy. But my mind had some help, seeing as some of those touches just occurred a few minutes ago. The soft caress of Lydia's baby skin soft fingertips as they followed my jaw line, or the way her nails dug into my back as I lay on top of her, the way she whimpered my name when our hips ground together so softly, so smoothly that I even questioned it happening. Of course that didn't go very far; Dad walked in and we had to play possum.
But now there was nothing stopping me from revisiting those recent memories. Memories, not fantasies, and knowing that made this so much better. I moan softly, over the embarrassment of it. I used to think when I was younger that it wasn't manly, but soon I grew to not let it bother me. No one was going to know, and if they did then they would love me enough to not care.
Lydia overwhelmed me, the slightest touch took my breath away, and kissing her like that killed me. It was simply too much for me to handle, and the imagery of this was getting out of control. It was too good, I was going too fast, there was too much heat, and the pleasure that coursed through my body was too rich. It was like thick liquidy gold flowed in my veins, and if I dared to open my eyes I'd see the flames of it ravishing my pale skin, running in pulsing waves through my body.
My breath was no longer even, and the feeling of her was so stunning I couldn't help but drop out of myself and fall into the sky. My breathing sped out of control and I couldn't contain myself. There was an explosion, gold and silver and diamonds shattered from the vault of eternal pleasure, my back arched, lips groaning her name as if it were that one word that could save my life. I struggled not to scream it. So much pleasure, and the moment I came down from the high of my climax I had already started searching for my clothes.
I couldn't pull my pants up quickly enough, needing to be near her right now. I needed her in my arms in this moment or I'd die.
Down in the living room she sits up, leaning against the couch, hugging her knees. When she sees me coming she stiffens at first, but as I come into the light of the TV all she can do is stare.
"God," is all she can say, and she can barely say that.
"What?" I whisper, kneeling down next to her and taking her hand.
"No no, stand back up," she instructs. I do and she just grins shyly at me.
"Why are you so slaphappy?" I chuckle.
"Were you thinking of me?" she questions, taking my hand and bringing me down on the floor with her as soon as she's gotten a good long look. I gaze at her curiously for a minute.
"Thinking of you when…?" I ask.
"You're glistening," she responds in the same hushed tone, and in the dim light I can see her blushing. My cheeks inflame as well and I just look at my own hands.
"Yeah, I was thinking about you," I answer honestly.
"Was I good?" she asks, and as I look at her I know she must be trying extremely hard to contain her enthusiasm. I bury my face in my arms as my cheeks burn on.
"Yes," I mutter, "but don't get too flattered, you might actually suck in person," I shrug, trying to make a joke of it but knowing that Lydia Martin would never ever be a sexual letdown. I loved her, and making love to her will be amazing no matter how skilled she is.
"I only suck if you really want me too," she says, in her casual sing song voice. My jaw drops and I can't help but wonder if she really means it. But I can tell she isn't in a sexual mood, she just lies down and gestures for me to do the same. I wrap my arms around her and sigh, pulling the blankets up and yanking pillows off the couch so we weren't too uncomfortable. I hold her tightly, kissing her hair, her cheeks, her face, and her lips.
"I can't tell you how much you mean to me," I whisper into her ear. Sure she's kept her walls down so far, but I can't just assume she always will. I need her to know exactly how strong I feel before she retreats back to her Lydia cave. A good long run for us is considered lucky, and I've never been lucky.
She looks up at me and cups my cheek in her palm, "I'm sorry I've ignored you for so long," she says quietly.
"I get it," I shrug, "I'm not exactly the coolest guy. Sarcasm is my only defense, I'm not too good looking," I take a deep breath, "but when it comes to you Lydia, I would do anything, I would be anything, to make you happy. You're my entire world, I need to keep you alive in every way I can." She takes that in for a moment, thinking, pondering before pressing her lips to mine in a brief but sweet, sweet kiss.
"Stiles, you're beautiful, don't ever think otherwise." That's all she says, and it's enough to make my heart swell… Lydia thinks I'm attractive…beautiful…
"Is that why were staring a minute ago?" I murmur against her lips with a grin.
"I had never seen anything so amazing, not even on Jackson," she replies, and I wait for the backlash of an effect saying his name must have on her. But it doesn't come.
"Really?" I question. She nods.
"You're genuine." She sighs. "Unique, like no other person can match perfectly what you have. Comedic quality but still, deep down, the most tortured," she strokes my face, wiping away tears I hadn't realized were there. "Or maybe that's what we have in common."
"Lydia," I take her face in my hands, study it, her eyes, make sure she isn't going to send us twenty steps back after all the progress we've made. "Promise me you won't leave me again, I'll stay here with you and be here when you need me if you're here when I need you," I whisper, needing this confirmation that she was really here to stay.
"I can't promise you I'll be the same around other people, like at school," she starts. "But I trust you, and I don't trust people. I don't trust anyone but you."
"So you'll be open around me? You'll be the Lydia I love?" I beg, ready to give up about everything I have. Every ounce of sanity on the table.
"You love me?" she whispers back slowly.
"Yes, I love you." It was the one thing I could say so surely. The one answer on the test I was ready for, craved, and knew I would get right. This was my existence, and it so must be true.
She nods, pulling my lips to hers in a fierce, passionate kiss before pulling away. "Okay, I promise you I'll be here for you…because I love you too." And the last of my world explodes in tiny little golden shards.