tampered | We used to ride, baby ride around in limousines [Closed]

When; September 20th
Rating; Let's call it TV-14 to be safe.
Characters; Lydia Martin

saturniapavonia
Summary; To the victor goes the spoils; Roman and Lydia's date.
Log;

Lydia actually has no idea where Roman is taking her, but she decides to risk dressing for the occasion anyway. A guy who drives the car he claims he does is a guy who deserves a little red dress. Add to that the fact that he'd come running to help her, and didn't make her feel like she was a mutant or yelled at her when she came out of the banshee closet. The truth was, even with his own brand of weirdness that he'd shared with her, he's just the sort of guy she'd have dated back in Beacon Hills, her current arrangement with Aiden aside. But Aiden isn't here, and Roman is, and at the end of the day Roman ain't hard on the eyes, either.

She doesn't like to give the impression that she's waiting for someone to show up when going out on a date, but at the same time she doesn't want Melissa to worry, nor does she want Scott to feel like he has to play the protective big ~~brother~~ alpha. So she does her best to time things so she doesn't have to answer a lot of questions and she and Roman can transition quickly from the apartment to getting out the door.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Fucking on the first date is bad form, Lydia.

That's what she's telling herself right now.

But she is getting ideas about just where she wants him to put his mouth as she kisses him back, pushing against him a little.]

Keep doing that.

[An order. An answer to his question.]

[Also not a good start to a possible relationship or so they say. Roman is trying to talk sense in that way too.]

Mmmhmmm.

[Mouth, teeth because somehow just running them close to the sweet smelling skin does something to him. They're normal, flattened and unremarkable teeth. Besides opening his mouth in such a way lets him slip out his tongue too.

Dancing that line of getting hot and heavy enough to test the fit of his trousers and keeping the lady happy is quite the exercise.]

[There's supposed to be some kind of undefined line in one's knowledge that is somewhere between experimental and slut. Lydia owns her own sexuality with a fierceness but even she occasionally will question her own line in the sand.

Like when Roman is kissing her like this.

Like when she starts to suck on Roman's tongue and it's not hard to imagine what else she could probably be sucking like that.

She pulls her mouth away slowly after a few moments murmuring low.]

I don't want to torture you [Doesn't she?] but I think a little bit of patience on both our parts is in order.

[She's not exactly walking the walk with her hips pressed against him like that. It's the eternal war of Should Do versus Want.]

[Great mouth she's got there. Even when it is telling him the direct opposite of what he wants to hear. Roman pushes his hair back from his own forehead to slick it flat against his head again. He swallows.]

Okay. Yeah. That's cool.

[Totally not cool. But it is going to be what it's going to be. He clears his throat because that whole husky low voice is not going to cut it.]

I can take torture.

[Because he deserves it. To wait. To suffer. Roman shuts is eyes a little and just wraps his arms around Lydia to hold her clothes while he just breathes.]

[She feels bad about it, but she's not putting out because she feels bad about it.

She is still for a moment when he embraces her, but just a split second before he might suspect her of being unresponsive, she curves herself into him. Is it comfort? For her, yes. She suspects for him too.]

[Better not let on she feels bad about it. He might try to change her mind. Roman kisses the top of her head.]

D'you smoke, Lydia?

[She chuckles a little, and for a moment her face is against his throat, and he can feel her mouth curving into that smile.]

I don't, but I don't mind if you do.

[Slow spreading smile. Damn. Un-fucking-fair.]

Let's get out of here. I'll do it outside.

[Roman has been trying to be on his best behavior. That included not being the human chimney for a hot minute. He smoked on the way to getting her. Didn't after dinner. Didn't while they've been here. Enough being good there. He starts to pull away but offers her his hand.]

[She's sort of banking on common smoker's courtesy; that he'll exhale it away from her. She's admittedly not a fan of nicotine taste and she intends to kiss Roman a lot. But she knows she's tested his patience and he's born up like a champion, so how can she deny him his precious smokes?

She takes his hand, letting him lead her out of the club. Her resolve is admittedly crumbling, but if she can keep it together by the time they make it back to the apartment, it'll be alright. She can't invite him upstairs after all, with Scott and Melissa there.]

[Oh he is going to abide by courtesy. Smoking without decency is for company like Peter. Peter wouldn't care. He's a real smoker too. With his hand clasping Lydia's roman navigates them out of the club. The underground streets are relatively crowded for the hour.]

Isn't it great to not get carded?

[He smiles as they pass by another club. Smoking for a few years has given him the talent of being able to get out a cigarette with one hand. It stays perched between his lips for a time as they walk.]

No curfew either.

[Not that he obeyed one any way. Their path naturally starts to lead upward to the City proper. No rush. Except the longer they're together the more he wishes he could get all over her.

Restraint, fucker. Learn it. There's a stinging, stabbing and ashamed feeling that cuts through him with a face and a name that he doesn't want to think of right now. Summing it up to mean restraint though is important. Very, very important.]

It's pretty much a relief. The amount of freedom we have here is remarkable, but I suppose it's to balance out being stuck here until whoever controls this place sees fit to let us go.

[It's a dark thought and not one she wants to pursue at this moment. Instead, she smiles at him.] We could stay out all night. Walk in when the sun comes up. Take off our shoes and dance around in the fountain?

Or that they don't care enough to regulate out side of that.

[Slim shoulders lift in a shrug. Oh well. There's his lighter now. Click, click. First inhale is great. Just what the doctor ordered.]

Why not just swim in that case?

[Just saying.]

I bet there's an arcade or something around here.

[They don't have to turn in but the less likely they'll get private one on one time the better.]

The fountains kind of shallow, and I'm not drunk enough to consider streaking.

[She laces her fingers into his.] I'm sure we'll find something to entertain ourselves. I'm all for staying out as late as we can.

We used to ride, baby ride around in limousines [Closed]

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