Entry tags:
Fic: Things You Can't Learn From Books (Everwood, Ephram/Madison)
Title: Things You Can't Learn From Books
Fandom: Everwood
Pairing(s): Ephram/Madison
Word Count: 1661
Rating: R
Summary: It's not exactly guaranteed privacy, but it's been a while since they've seen anyone, so he's not that surprised when Madison kisses him. Well, maybe a little.
Notes: Spoilers up to episode 2:12 - Controlling Interest.
So. He made it to the library.
He made it to the library, and you know what? It's just a library. It's a little bigger than most, and unlike the library at school he thinks people might actually be here to study, but other than that, it's pretty much the same. Books, tables, mildly angry-looking librarians. Fairly standard. Really, the only remarkable thing about it is the strict entry requirement, which - it turns out? Not so strict.
All in all, the whole 'get into the library' plan was a solid success. With, of course, only one real drawback: It means he's in the library.
Honestly, the unit on Portugal really isn't as interesting as he made it out to be. It doesn't seem like abnormal psych is much better, Madison squirming in the seat next to him, tapping her pencil, resting her head in her hands; he thinks at one point she actually tries to go to sleep.
"This isn't working," she says, rubbing the back of her neck. Ephram resists the impulse to do it for her; there are still people around, and he's trying to learn from his mistakes.
"Yeah," he says instead. "Tell me about it."
"I thought you were interested in Uruguay."
"Portugal," he says. "But it's nice to know you were listening to me."
"Sorry," she says, and he shakes his head.
"Don't be. I was talking about high school, I was barely listening to me."
"I did warn you this wasn't going to be much fun."
He shrugs, holding her gaze. "It's okay. I like spending time with you."
"Yeah," she says. "Well, the good news is, I've only got two chapters to go."
"Down from eight," he says. "That's pretty good."
She laughs; it's the first time he's seen her smile since he sat down. "Is that your subtle way of pointing out that you were listening to me while I was ignoring you?"
"No," he says. And then, "Maybe a little. Do you want to take a break?"
"Can't," she says. "I really need to get this done tonight, I'm sorry. But you can leave if you want to."
"No," he says. "It's okay, I'm good."
"Good," she says. "In that case, I should probably get back to this."
A couple of minutes later, she apparently changes her mind.
"Okay," she says, putting her pencil down. "You know what? You were right, I definitely need to take a break."
"All right," he says. He's pretty much done, anyway; evidently, college classes that suck are way harder than high school classes that suck. "You want a snack or something? I think I saw a couple of vending machines downstairs, I could get us something."
"No, it's okay," she says. "Come on, how about I show you around a little bit?"
"You mean, in case I need to come here again and manage to find another international student to borrow an ID from?"
"Something like that," she says.
She doesn't take his hand, but she doesn't object when he walks next to her, through rows of shelves stacked high with more books than Ephram honestly thought they had in Colorado. There aren't exactly stacks like he always pictured them, all dark wood and musty, shadowy corners perfect for hiding in, but it's still pretty cool; he thinks he could probably still get lost, if he tried.
They finally stop at the far end of one of the rows, near the back, shelves full of books on a subject he can't even begin to decipher. It's not exactly guaranteed privacy, but it's been a while since they've seen anyone, so he's not that surprised when Madison kisses him. Well, maybe a little. But it's not like he's going to stop and complain about it, he's not a complete idiot.
He loves the way she kisses - it still feels new, her lips soft against his, actually kissing him back, pressing against him like she actually wants to be here. No matter how many times they do this, he thinks it'll always feel new, being able to kiss her and touch her and want her, reaching out to grab her hips, pulling her a little closer. Her tongue slides against his like they're still learning this, still finding their rhythm, only he doesn't mind; doesn't mind the way he can never completely relax when he's touching her if it means he gets to feel like this, all electric wires running under his skin like he's going to explode the very next time she touches him.
Part of him still can't quite believe it hasn't happened yet. Literally, even, blood and guts all over the place. Most of the time, he can't even believe any of this is really happening.
And - okay. The thing is, it's not like he's trying to push his luck, he really isn't. And he knows they're in public, technically, so he's trying to be careful. But he can't help the impulse that makes him dip his head to nip at the skin of her neck, and Madison doesn't protest when he does. Quite the opposite, actually; she sort of sucks in a breath that almost sounds like a whimper, if Ephram thought that was any kind of sound he could make a girl make, and presses against him a little more. Not much, but enough to drive him crazy, hands grasping at her waist underneath the fabric of her shirt, clutching desperately at bare skin.
So, really, this is when he expects her to put a stop to things. Because she always does, before things go too far, before she starts getting uncomfortable, and that's a good thing, because if it were up to him - it's just a good thing it's not up to him. Only she doesn't, not this time, and by the time Ephram's been sucking in her neck long enough to give her a pretty serious hickey in the morning, she's - well, it feels like she's practically dry humping him even though she's probably barely moving, right here in the freaking library, and it's not at all where he ever would have expected this to go down.
Not that, um. Not that going down is what's going on, just - something. Happening. In the library. And, okay, maybe also in his pants.
Slowly - achingly slowly - he moves his hand up, over her shirt. Palming her stomach, feeling her tense against him, and then further. Cupping her breast over the fabric, and it's not like they haven't done this before, but it still sends a thrill of electricity up his spine. That he's doing this, that he's allowed to do this, with her.
Madison's hands find their way under his shirt, making him start, and then he's pushing her up against one of the shelves, hoisting her up so she's half-leaning, never breaking contact. His hands move back down to her sides, her waist, and then lower; then he's fumbling at her jeans, fever-hot and thoughtless. The part of his brain that's still functioning still expects her to stop him, or at least to take charge, but she seems happy to let him be in control. Not, of course, that what he's feeling is anywhere near being in control.
Especially not when the top button of her jeans pops open - after maybe a minute of him trying to work it free, like, real smooth - and his thumb brushes the top of her underwear, the smooth bare skin below her stomach. And he just - he isn't capable of thinking any more. If he ever was. His hand dips lower, teasing the elastic, and Madison honest to god gasps out loud.
"Is this -" And it's practically killing him to stop and ask, but he's not like one of those guys, the kind of guys he hates. "Is this okay?"
"Shh," she says. But smiling, like it's a joke. "We have to be quiet, okay?"
"Yeah," he says. Chokes out, really. Quiet. Because they're in a library. A really public library, in a not-so-public corner. "Okay."
And then he's touching her for real, hand sinking lower inside her jeans, and this? This, they haven't done so much. Or at all. And Ephram has no idea if he's doing it right, can't even focus, can't think of anything except the way she feels around his fingers. Soft and warm and wet, god, and he has no freaking idea what he's doing but Madison's breathing erratically against his neck and sometimes she kind of shivers, and he just - he hopes that's a good sign, he hopes -
Her breath hitches, in and out a little rough, and then she tenses against him. He freezes, has no idea what's happening, and then he does, or at least he thinks he does; she slips away from him, smiling softly, and he just - well, he doesn't ask, but he thinks.
"Wow," he says. Softly, so she's not supposed to hear, but she smiles a little wider anyway.
"Yeah," she says. Buttoning her jeans, and he wipes his hand kind of awkwardly on his pants; he has no idea what else he's supposed to do. "That was -"
"Yeah," he says.
"Not exactly what I meant to do tonight," she says, but her voice is soft, not like she's saying it was a mistake.
"No kidding," he says. Laughs a little, and he thinks it's mostly nerves.
"We should probably get back to -"
"Yeah," he says again. Somehow still feels awkward, even after everything.
"Do you still have studying to do?"
"Yeah," he says. It's not quite the truth, but somehow - maybe the first good instinct he's ever had about a girl - he doesn't think leaving now would be the best thing to do. "Yeah, I could stick around."
Madison smiles again. This time, she takes his hand as they walk back to the desk.
Fandom: Everwood
Pairing(s): Ephram/Madison
Word Count: 1661
Rating: R
Summary: It's not exactly guaranteed privacy, but it's been a while since they've seen anyone, so he's not that surprised when Madison kisses him. Well, maybe a little.
Notes: Spoilers up to episode 2:12 - Controlling Interest.
So. He made it to the library.
He made it to the library, and you know what? It's just a library. It's a little bigger than most, and unlike the library at school he thinks people might actually be here to study, but other than that, it's pretty much the same. Books, tables, mildly angry-looking librarians. Fairly standard. Really, the only remarkable thing about it is the strict entry requirement, which - it turns out? Not so strict.
All in all, the whole 'get into the library' plan was a solid success. With, of course, only one real drawback: It means he's in the library.
Honestly, the unit on Portugal really isn't as interesting as he made it out to be. It doesn't seem like abnormal psych is much better, Madison squirming in the seat next to him, tapping her pencil, resting her head in her hands; he thinks at one point she actually tries to go to sleep.
"This isn't working," she says, rubbing the back of her neck. Ephram resists the impulse to do it for her; there are still people around, and he's trying to learn from his mistakes.
"Yeah," he says instead. "Tell me about it."
"I thought you were interested in Uruguay."
"Portugal," he says. "But it's nice to know you were listening to me."
"Sorry," she says, and he shakes his head.
"Don't be. I was talking about high school, I was barely listening to me."
"I did warn you this wasn't going to be much fun."
He shrugs, holding her gaze. "It's okay. I like spending time with you."
"Yeah," she says. "Well, the good news is, I've only got two chapters to go."
"Down from eight," he says. "That's pretty good."
She laughs; it's the first time he's seen her smile since he sat down. "Is that your subtle way of pointing out that you were listening to me while I was ignoring you?"
"No," he says. And then, "Maybe a little. Do you want to take a break?"
"Can't," she says. "I really need to get this done tonight, I'm sorry. But you can leave if you want to."
"No," he says. "It's okay, I'm good."
"Good," she says. "In that case, I should probably get back to this."
A couple of minutes later, she apparently changes her mind.
"Okay," she says, putting her pencil down. "You know what? You were right, I definitely need to take a break."
"All right," he says. He's pretty much done, anyway; evidently, college classes that suck are way harder than high school classes that suck. "You want a snack or something? I think I saw a couple of vending machines downstairs, I could get us something."
"No, it's okay," she says. "Come on, how about I show you around a little bit?"
"You mean, in case I need to come here again and manage to find another international student to borrow an ID from?"
"Something like that," she says.
She doesn't take his hand, but she doesn't object when he walks next to her, through rows of shelves stacked high with more books than Ephram honestly thought they had in Colorado. There aren't exactly stacks like he always pictured them, all dark wood and musty, shadowy corners perfect for hiding in, but it's still pretty cool; he thinks he could probably still get lost, if he tried.
They finally stop at the far end of one of the rows, near the back, shelves full of books on a subject he can't even begin to decipher. It's not exactly guaranteed privacy, but it's been a while since they've seen anyone, so he's not that surprised when Madison kisses him. Well, maybe a little. But it's not like he's going to stop and complain about it, he's not a complete idiot.
He loves the way she kisses - it still feels new, her lips soft against his, actually kissing him back, pressing against him like she actually wants to be here. No matter how many times they do this, he thinks it'll always feel new, being able to kiss her and touch her and want her, reaching out to grab her hips, pulling her a little closer. Her tongue slides against his like they're still learning this, still finding their rhythm, only he doesn't mind; doesn't mind the way he can never completely relax when he's touching her if it means he gets to feel like this, all electric wires running under his skin like he's going to explode the very next time she touches him.
Part of him still can't quite believe it hasn't happened yet. Literally, even, blood and guts all over the place. Most of the time, he can't even believe any of this is really happening.
And - okay. The thing is, it's not like he's trying to push his luck, he really isn't. And he knows they're in public, technically, so he's trying to be careful. But he can't help the impulse that makes him dip his head to nip at the skin of her neck, and Madison doesn't protest when he does. Quite the opposite, actually; she sort of sucks in a breath that almost sounds like a whimper, if Ephram thought that was any kind of sound he could make a girl make, and presses against him a little more. Not much, but enough to drive him crazy, hands grasping at her waist underneath the fabric of her shirt, clutching desperately at bare skin.
So, really, this is when he expects her to put a stop to things. Because she always does, before things go too far, before she starts getting uncomfortable, and that's a good thing, because if it were up to him - it's just a good thing it's not up to him. Only she doesn't, not this time, and by the time Ephram's been sucking in her neck long enough to give her a pretty serious hickey in the morning, she's - well, it feels like she's practically dry humping him even though she's probably barely moving, right here in the freaking library, and it's not at all where he ever would have expected this to go down.
Not that, um. Not that going down is what's going on, just - something. Happening. In the library. And, okay, maybe also in his pants.
Slowly - achingly slowly - he moves his hand up, over her shirt. Palming her stomach, feeling her tense against him, and then further. Cupping her breast over the fabric, and it's not like they haven't done this before, but it still sends a thrill of electricity up his spine. That he's doing this, that he's allowed to do this, with her.
Madison's hands find their way under his shirt, making him start, and then he's pushing her up against one of the shelves, hoisting her up so she's half-leaning, never breaking contact. His hands move back down to her sides, her waist, and then lower; then he's fumbling at her jeans, fever-hot and thoughtless. The part of his brain that's still functioning still expects her to stop him, or at least to take charge, but she seems happy to let him be in control. Not, of course, that what he's feeling is anywhere near being in control.
Especially not when the top button of her jeans pops open - after maybe a minute of him trying to work it free, like, real smooth - and his thumb brushes the top of her underwear, the smooth bare skin below her stomach. And he just - he isn't capable of thinking any more. If he ever was. His hand dips lower, teasing the elastic, and Madison honest to god gasps out loud.
"Is this -" And it's practically killing him to stop and ask, but he's not like one of those guys, the kind of guys he hates. "Is this okay?"
"Shh," she says. But smiling, like it's a joke. "We have to be quiet, okay?"
"Yeah," he says. Chokes out, really. Quiet. Because they're in a library. A really public library, in a not-so-public corner. "Okay."
And then he's touching her for real, hand sinking lower inside her jeans, and this? This, they haven't done so much. Or at all. And Ephram has no idea if he's doing it right, can't even focus, can't think of anything except the way she feels around his fingers. Soft and warm and wet, god, and he has no freaking idea what he's doing but Madison's breathing erratically against his neck and sometimes she kind of shivers, and he just - he hopes that's a good sign, he hopes -
Her breath hitches, in and out a little rough, and then she tenses against him. He freezes, has no idea what's happening, and then he does, or at least he thinks he does; she slips away from him, smiling softly, and he just - well, he doesn't ask, but he thinks.
"Wow," he says. Softly, so she's not supposed to hear, but she smiles a little wider anyway.
"Yeah," she says. Buttoning her jeans, and he wipes his hand kind of awkwardly on his pants; he has no idea what else he's supposed to do. "That was -"
"Yeah," he says.
"Not exactly what I meant to do tonight," she says, but her voice is soft, not like she's saying it was a mistake.
"No kidding," he says. Laughs a little, and he thinks it's mostly nerves.
"We should probably get back to -"
"Yeah," he says again. Somehow still feels awkward, even after everything.
"Do you still have studying to do?"
"Yeah," he says. It's not quite the truth, but somehow - maybe the first good instinct he's ever had about a girl - he doesn't think leaving now would be the best thing to do. "Yeah, I could stick around."
Madison smiles again. This time, she takes his hand as they walk back to the desk.