The OC/Veronica Mars (Theresa/Weevil, Ryan mentions)
Title: Afternoon Delight
Rating: PG-13
Author: Heath
Summary: The OC/Veronica Mars - Theresa/Weevil (I know!) Ryan mentions.
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything.
Notes: This is what happens when I get insomnia.
____
Her mama’s going to be home any minute, but she can’t worry about that when she’s pressed into the cushions by Weevil’s weight. She wonders when he stopped going by Eli. Whether he’ll ever let her call him that again when they aren’t so intimately pressed and his sentimentality isn’t running on overdrive. For now, he smiles and nips her ear when she moans it over and over.
Their olive skin blends together in a mess of limbs like twisted puzzle pieces. And for an afternoon, they can just be stupid teenagers again, doing stupid teenage things and not paying heed to all the reasons that this is so very wrong.
They can forget all the secrets they’re keeping: Dead bodies and fake miscarriages. A baby-growing so fast and looking more like his daddy every day. Bullets holes and bus crashes, unrest and accusations. So many untruths and unanswered questions. Too much stress for eighteen.
They’re not in it for love. They’re both wrestling with their own demons.
He’s pining for some blonde back in Neptune.
She’s still in love with Ryan.
It’s mutual need that brings them together like this. It’s a purely carnal relationship...affair...tryst. Whatever.
It’s a hell of a good way to waste up an afternoon. Better than doing laundry or washing the mountain of dishes in the sink. Since becoming a mother, she doesn’t know what to do with any moments that she’s left alone. Privacy has become a thing of the past. So when she’s alone, she truly feels it. And when Weevil comes by, she doesn’t have to feel anything but pleasure. She can just close her eyes and sink into the sensations.
"That kid of yours needs a papa," Weevil tells her later, as he slips on his boots and roughly ties up the laces.
"Don't start that again, Eli."
"I'm just saying, the kid oughta have a dad and if that rich boy over in Orange County ain't man enough-"
Some part of him wants to take care of her. She sees that in his eyes. But he could never be what she needs him to be. They both know that.
"It's not like that. Ryan's not rich. Ryan's... It's complicated, okay? Complicado, si? No entiendo qué nos sucedió." The wave of emotions hit her before she has time to put them in check. She takes a deep breath to calm her racing heart. She doesn’t want to think about Ryan right now, not while she has Weevil’s sweat still drying on her body. "I don't want to talk about this."
Weevil stands and reaches for her, but she takes a step back. His hand drops to his side.
"Look, all I'm saying-"
She shakes her head, and, thankfully, he doesn't persist.
"I've told you before to just leave it. My mama was good enough for me and Arturo and I'll be good enough for my son."
He smiles gently in defeat.
"Okay, you're right. I get it. It's none of my business. It's just Arturo, you know. He told me to take care of you."
Before she can stop it a flush creeps onto her cheeks and her mouth quirks into a smile.
"Take care of me, huh? If Arturo knew just how well you were taking care of me, I don't think you'd still be walking."
He puffs out his chest and she can’t stop the giggle that slips out of her mouth.
"I can handle myself."
She rolls her eyes.
"That’s right, I forgot. You're Weevil now, head of some badass motorcycle gang."
"Hey, now, don’t think you’re too big that I won’t chase you around and tug on your pigtails like I did when we were kids.”
Wiggling her eyebrows suggestively, she laughs.
“How do you know I wouldn’t like that?”
“Oh, I know you would, but I don’t think your mama would be too pleased to see me here, bending you over that table, once I caught you.”
His voice has gone husky and a little rough, like the sex had been. It makes her clench her thighs together from the sudden arousing tingle she feels begin to stir in the apex between her legs.
“Tease,” she chastises.
“Always.”
She goes willingly into his arms and presses into his chest, breathing in his masculine scent, before pulling away and attempting a smile.
He tips his chin at her, with that half-smile on his face that she’d always found so endearing in their childhood. Nowadays, it seems even more mischievous.
“Take care of yourself, okay?”
“I always do.”
“Tell your mom I said ‘hi’ and hug the rugrat for me.”
“I will.”
She follows him to the door, leans over and gives him a quick kiss on the cheek. She watches him get on his bike and put on his helmet just as her mother’s beat-up old car starts down the block. The engine roars to life and she watches him speed away. She watches until the exhaust from his bike has evaporated and all that’s left is the ghost of his smile and the echo of the engine in her head. She watches until her mother pulls her into the house to put away the groceries and the laughter of her son fills her ears.
--End--
(Translation "No entiendo qué nos sucedió." = I don't understand what happened to us.)
Rating: PG-13
Author: Heath
Summary: The OC/Veronica Mars - Theresa/Weevil (I know!) Ryan mentions.
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything.
Notes: This is what happens when I get insomnia.
____
Her mama’s going to be home any minute, but she can’t worry about that when she’s pressed into the cushions by Weevil’s weight. She wonders when he stopped going by Eli. Whether he’ll ever let her call him that again when they aren’t so intimately pressed and his sentimentality isn’t running on overdrive. For now, he smiles and nips her ear when she moans it over and over.
Their olive skin blends together in a mess of limbs like twisted puzzle pieces. And for an afternoon, they can just be stupid teenagers again, doing stupid teenage things and not paying heed to all the reasons that this is so very wrong.
They can forget all the secrets they’re keeping: Dead bodies and fake miscarriages. A baby-growing so fast and looking more like his daddy every day. Bullets holes and bus crashes, unrest and accusations. So many untruths and unanswered questions. Too much stress for eighteen.
They’re not in it for love. They’re both wrestling with their own demons.
He’s pining for some blonde back in Neptune.
She’s still in love with Ryan.
It’s mutual need that brings them together like this. It’s a purely carnal relationship...affair...tryst. Whatever.
It’s a hell of a good way to waste up an afternoon. Better than doing laundry or washing the mountain of dishes in the sink. Since becoming a mother, she doesn’t know what to do with any moments that she’s left alone. Privacy has become a thing of the past. So when she’s alone, she truly feels it. And when Weevil comes by, she doesn’t have to feel anything but pleasure. She can just close her eyes and sink into the sensations.
"That kid of yours needs a papa," Weevil tells her later, as he slips on his boots and roughly ties up the laces.
"Don't start that again, Eli."
"I'm just saying, the kid oughta have a dad and if that rich boy over in Orange County ain't man enough-"
Some part of him wants to take care of her. She sees that in his eyes. But he could never be what she needs him to be. They both know that.
"It's not like that. Ryan's not rich. Ryan's... It's complicated, okay? Complicado, si? No entiendo qué nos sucedió." The wave of emotions hit her before she has time to put them in check. She takes a deep breath to calm her racing heart. She doesn’t want to think about Ryan right now, not while she has Weevil’s sweat still drying on her body. "I don't want to talk about this."
Weevil stands and reaches for her, but she takes a step back. His hand drops to his side.
"Look, all I'm saying-"
She shakes her head, and, thankfully, he doesn't persist.
"I've told you before to just leave it. My mama was good enough for me and Arturo and I'll be good enough for my son."
He smiles gently in defeat.
"Okay, you're right. I get it. It's none of my business. It's just Arturo, you know. He told me to take care of you."
Before she can stop it a flush creeps onto her cheeks and her mouth quirks into a smile.
"Take care of me, huh? If Arturo knew just how well you were taking care of me, I don't think you'd still be walking."
He puffs out his chest and she can’t stop the giggle that slips out of her mouth.
"I can handle myself."
She rolls her eyes.
"That’s right, I forgot. You're Weevil now, head of some badass motorcycle gang."
"Hey, now, don’t think you’re too big that I won’t chase you around and tug on your pigtails like I did when we were kids.”
Wiggling her eyebrows suggestively, she laughs.
“How do you know I wouldn’t like that?”
“Oh, I know you would, but I don’t think your mama would be too pleased to see me here, bending you over that table, once I caught you.”
His voice has gone husky and a little rough, like the sex had been. It makes her clench her thighs together from the sudden arousing tingle she feels begin to stir in the apex between her legs.
“Tease,” she chastises.
“Always.”
She goes willingly into his arms and presses into his chest, breathing in his masculine scent, before pulling away and attempting a smile.
He tips his chin at her, with that half-smile on his face that she’d always found so endearing in their childhood. Nowadays, it seems even more mischievous.
“Take care of yourself, okay?”
“I always do.”
“Tell your mom I said ‘hi’ and hug the rugrat for me.”
“I will.”
She follows him to the door, leans over and gives him a quick kiss on the cheek. She watches him get on his bike and put on his helmet just as her mother’s beat-up old car starts down the block. The engine roars to life and she watches him speed away. She watches until the exhaust from his bike has evaporated and all that’s left is the ghost of his smile and the echo of the engine in her head. She watches until her mother pulls her into the house to put away the groceries and the laughter of her son fills her ears.
--End--
(Translation "No entiendo qué nos sucedió." = I don't understand what happened to us.)