Wishlist fic 7/12: Enough (1/2) (Veronica Mars) for hanitje rated R
Title: Enough (1/2)
Author: JaqofSpades
Fandom: Veronica Mars
Prompter: for hanitje, who prompted “Season 3, based on Francise Capra's confession. Weevil is tired and cranky after V bails him out of the jail, and he kisses her. She asks about Lilly, and he says he's moving on.”.
Characters/Pairing: Veronica Mars/Eli Weevil Navarro
Rating: R (frequent coarse language, non-explicit sexuality)
Wordcount: 1349 (this part)
Summary: He's had enough of a life so fucking sad that the highlight of his month is being bailed out of jail by a girl he's not even sure he can call a friend.
Author's note: Sorry I couldn't finish this in full in time to get it for you for Christmas! Part 2 will land soon, I promise ... before the New Year, for sure!
It hits him at some point during his fifth hour in lock up. This damn cell feels more like home than his shitty little shoebox does, and there's something so fucking pathetic about it that he's in a filthy mood when she comes to bail him out.
Eli is sick of ending up in jail at the drop of a hat. He hates the fact that Veronica Mars has to keep money on hand for his fucking bail money. He's had enough of a life so fucking sad that the highlight of his month is being bailed out of jail by a girl he's not even sure he can call a friend.
He follows out to her car and boosts himself into the passenger seat without saying a word, answering her questions about the charges with monosyllabic grunts. Her mouth thins into a harsh line round about the tenth time he shrugs his shoulders, and by the time she pulls up outside his complex, her movements are jerky with annoyance.
He's already got the car door open when she explodes.
"HEY!"
"Not tonight, Mars. I've had enough. Read me the riot act tomorrow."
He's halfway up the walk when she comes steaming after him, body taut with outrage.
"So, I'm just the chaffeur? 'Home, Veronica' and then I'm dismissed? Really Weevil?"
"What do you want me to say, V? I haven't done a goddamn thing and he's locking me up anyway. You're wasting your time trying to look out for me ... sooner or later Lamb's gonna put me back in that place and there won't be a thing anyone can do, not even you, the girl wonder."
Veronica flushes and looks away, and he hates himself for mocking her. But home truths gotta hurt. And he's breaking his own heart with what's coming next.
"Thanks for coming, V. But next time, I'm calling a bondsman. I ain't dragging you into my shit no more."
He's got his key in the lock when she grabs his arm.
"Hell no! You don't get to drop that on me and just walk away, Eli. Not without an explanation," she hisses. "Are we not friends anymore? Is it that you don't trust me? Why would you --"
Her mouth is already open, so he simply slicks his tongue along her top lip and tugs at the bottom one before he dives in to explore all the sweet corners of her mouth. She tastes of those mints she likes so much, he thinks idly, before the realisation strikes him full force.
He's kissing Veronica Mars.
He's kissing Veronica Mars, and she is kissing him back, with tongue and teeth and little sounds of pleasure that rocket straight through him, sending his arousal sky high. Her hands are clutching at his biceps, and their bodies are straining against each other, and she's so far from tasering him it's almost funny. (Because he's thought about this before and that was always a possibility).
Must be why he's smiling when she finally yanks herself away.
"Eli?" Her voice is shaky, and he braces himself for the rejection he knows is coming.
"S'ok, Veronica. I know we're not like that. Just ... can't blame a guy sometimes, you know? All that crap and then ... there's you."
"So - that was like stress relief? Just because I'm here?" she says cautiously, and the hope in her voice is like a fist to his gut. He might have gotten her hot and bothered for a moment, but he's never gonna be one of the rich white boys she likes to date. Doesn't stop him from wanting her, though, and something ornery inside of him needs her to know that.
"Jesus. Stress relief? You're the most fucking stressful thing in my life, girl. And if that's all I wanted, plenty of girls round here would be happy to help out," he says pointedly. "Sometimes I wanna kiss you. So I did."
Her eyes are wary now, and he snorts in disgust.
"Don't worry. I'm not stupid enough to think anything's gonna happen just 'cause you like the way I kiss. You can go straight back to pretending you haven't got a clue," he sneers.
She looks poleaxed, and he wonders exactly why she's so shocked. The fact that he's into her? That he'd managed to keep it a secret for so long? Or was it the way she had kissed him back, all roaming hands and soft little groans of pleasure?
But it's none of those things.
"What about Lilly?" she finally asks.
"Huh? What's she got to do with anything?"
Veronica rolls her eyes, managing to recover some of her sass. "In Neptune? Everything, of course." She bites her lip, and he can see her bracing for what comes next.
"I wondered ... about us ... a few times, but you never tried anything, so I thought ... maybe you were holding a torch," she shrugged, looking away in embarrassment.
"Oh, V. There was torch alright. Big fucking torch. But it was never for Lilly," he says softly, watching her flush as she takes his meaning. "Time just never seemed right. 'Specially when you were with Echolls."
"Because of Lilly," can go damn well unsaid. He didn't feel guilty, exactly, because they'd been broken up when he and Lil started, and when they got back together he had been too cockblind to say no to being her backdoor man. It'd been too easy to hate Echolls on principle, and when he'd seen the bruises on Lilly, he'd been more than happy to jump to the wrong conclusion. Maybe he felt a little bad about that, Eli admitted to himself. Or maybe he just didn't want to be some white girl's plaything again.
So maybe it was about Lilly, a little. But Veronica's no bed of roses, either, and most days, the thought of getting caught up in her drama ...
Doesn't help him at night, he thinks, staring at the glow of her hair under the yellow streetlights. Doesn't help him at all, now that he knows how she tastes, and the noises she makes, and the fact that his bed is twenty feet away on the other side of an already unlocked door.
And she's still here, even though it's long past time for her to have walked away. So he shrugs, and lays it on the line.
"You coming in?"
She chews on her lip so hard it's almost flattering.
"We're just gonna talk, right? Sort this thing out?"
He snorts and shakes his head.
"It's two o'clock in the fucking morning. I still got the taste of you in my mouth. What do you think, Veronica?"
Her head jerks up and she stares into his eyes as if trying to read his intentions there. They must have been pretty clear (he's a simple man) because she needs to take a long, deep breath and he can't help it. He has to touch her, fingers skimming along her cheekbone and thumb idly stroking her neck.
She leans into him, and her eyes slide closed for a moment, as if the feel of him is something she's trying to memorise. But when his hands slide down, down over her shoulders, down her back, down to trace the irrestible swell of her ass, she drags in an unsteady breath and steps away.
"I have a boyfriend," she blurts, and he raises an eyebrow because, yeah, he's met him. Snarski or something. Big white dude. He doesn't know him, and doesn't owe him a goddamn thing.
"So?"
She narrows her eyes at him and her trembling mouth firms with her glare.
"And that, right there? Why I need to go. See you tomorrow, Weevil."
He knows he won't, of course. She'll be spooked as fuck tomorrow - probably try to avoid him all week, maybe even the rest of the term.
It's probably for the best, he tells himself, but then the door catches his foot and he's kicking it, outraged, losin' it for no reason at all.
… to be continued.
Disclaimer: This fanfiction was written for personal enjoyment rather than profit. No infringement on the rights of the intellectual property owners is intended.
Author: JaqofSpades
Fandom: Veronica Mars
Prompter: for hanitje, who prompted “Season 3, based on Francise Capra's confession. Weevil is tired and cranky after V bails him out of the jail, and he kisses her. She asks about Lilly, and he says he's moving on.”.
Characters/Pairing: Veronica Mars/Eli Weevil Navarro
Rating: R (frequent coarse language, non-explicit sexuality)
Wordcount: 1349 (this part)
Summary: He's had enough of a life so fucking sad that the highlight of his month is being bailed out of jail by a girl he's not even sure he can call a friend.
Author's note: Sorry I couldn't finish this in full in time to get it for you for Christmas! Part 2 will land soon, I promise ... before the New Year, for sure!
It hits him at some point during his fifth hour in lock up. This damn cell feels more like home than his shitty little shoebox does, and there's something so fucking pathetic about it that he's in a filthy mood when she comes to bail him out.
Eli is sick of ending up in jail at the drop of a hat. He hates the fact that Veronica Mars has to keep money on hand for his fucking bail money. He's had enough of a life so fucking sad that the highlight of his month is being bailed out of jail by a girl he's not even sure he can call a friend.
He follows out to her car and boosts himself into the passenger seat without saying a word, answering her questions about the charges with monosyllabic grunts. Her mouth thins into a harsh line round about the tenth time he shrugs his shoulders, and by the time she pulls up outside his complex, her movements are jerky with annoyance.
He's already got the car door open when she explodes.
"HEY!"
"Not tonight, Mars. I've had enough. Read me the riot act tomorrow."
He's halfway up the walk when she comes steaming after him, body taut with outrage.
"So, I'm just the chaffeur? 'Home, Veronica' and then I'm dismissed? Really Weevil?"
"What do you want me to say, V? I haven't done a goddamn thing and he's locking me up anyway. You're wasting your time trying to look out for me ... sooner or later Lamb's gonna put me back in that place and there won't be a thing anyone can do, not even you, the girl wonder."
Veronica flushes and looks away, and he hates himself for mocking her. But home truths gotta hurt. And he's breaking his own heart with what's coming next.
"Thanks for coming, V. But next time, I'm calling a bondsman. I ain't dragging you into my shit no more."
He's got his key in the lock when she grabs his arm.
"Hell no! You don't get to drop that on me and just walk away, Eli. Not without an explanation," she hisses. "Are we not friends anymore? Is it that you don't trust me? Why would you --"
Her mouth is already open, so he simply slicks his tongue along her top lip and tugs at the bottom one before he dives in to explore all the sweet corners of her mouth. She tastes of those mints she likes so much, he thinks idly, before the realisation strikes him full force.
He's kissing Veronica Mars.
He's kissing Veronica Mars, and she is kissing him back, with tongue and teeth and little sounds of pleasure that rocket straight through him, sending his arousal sky high. Her hands are clutching at his biceps, and their bodies are straining against each other, and she's so far from tasering him it's almost funny. (Because he's thought about this before and that was always a possibility).
Must be why he's smiling when she finally yanks herself away.
"Eli?" Her voice is shaky, and he braces himself for the rejection he knows is coming.
"S'ok, Veronica. I know we're not like that. Just ... can't blame a guy sometimes, you know? All that crap and then ... there's you."
"So - that was like stress relief? Just because I'm here?" she says cautiously, and the hope in her voice is like a fist to his gut. He might have gotten her hot and bothered for a moment, but he's never gonna be one of the rich white boys she likes to date. Doesn't stop him from wanting her, though, and something ornery inside of him needs her to know that.
"Jesus. Stress relief? You're the most fucking stressful thing in my life, girl. And if that's all I wanted, plenty of girls round here would be happy to help out," he says pointedly. "Sometimes I wanna kiss you. So I did."
Her eyes are wary now, and he snorts in disgust.
"Don't worry. I'm not stupid enough to think anything's gonna happen just 'cause you like the way I kiss. You can go straight back to pretending you haven't got a clue," he sneers.
She looks poleaxed, and he wonders exactly why she's so shocked. The fact that he's into her? That he'd managed to keep it a secret for so long? Or was it the way she had kissed him back, all roaming hands and soft little groans of pleasure?
But it's none of those things.
"What about Lilly?" she finally asks.
"Huh? What's she got to do with anything?"
Veronica rolls her eyes, managing to recover some of her sass. "In Neptune? Everything, of course." She bites her lip, and he can see her bracing for what comes next.
"I wondered ... about us ... a few times, but you never tried anything, so I thought ... maybe you were holding a torch," she shrugged, looking away in embarrassment.
"Oh, V. There was torch alright. Big fucking torch. But it was never for Lilly," he says softly, watching her flush as she takes his meaning. "Time just never seemed right. 'Specially when you were with Echolls."
"Because of Lilly," can go damn well unsaid. He didn't feel guilty, exactly, because they'd been broken up when he and Lil started, and when they got back together he had been too cockblind to say no to being her backdoor man. It'd been too easy to hate Echolls on principle, and when he'd seen the bruises on Lilly, he'd been more than happy to jump to the wrong conclusion. Maybe he felt a little bad about that, Eli admitted to himself. Or maybe he just didn't want to be some white girl's plaything again.
So maybe it was about Lilly, a little. But Veronica's no bed of roses, either, and most days, the thought of getting caught up in her drama ...
Doesn't help him at night, he thinks, staring at the glow of her hair under the yellow streetlights. Doesn't help him at all, now that he knows how she tastes, and the noises she makes, and the fact that his bed is twenty feet away on the other side of an already unlocked door.
And she's still here, even though it's long past time for her to have walked away. So he shrugs, and lays it on the line.
"You coming in?"
She chews on her lip so hard it's almost flattering.
"We're just gonna talk, right? Sort this thing out?"
He snorts and shakes his head.
"It's two o'clock in the fucking morning. I still got the taste of you in my mouth. What do you think, Veronica?"
Her head jerks up and she stares into his eyes as if trying to read his intentions there. They must have been pretty clear (he's a simple man) because she needs to take a long, deep breath and he can't help it. He has to touch her, fingers skimming along her cheekbone and thumb idly stroking her neck.
She leans into him, and her eyes slide closed for a moment, as if the feel of him is something she's trying to memorise. But when his hands slide down, down over her shoulders, down her back, down to trace the irrestible swell of her ass, she drags in an unsteady breath and steps away.
"I have a boyfriend," she blurts, and he raises an eyebrow because, yeah, he's met him. Snarski or something. Big white dude. He doesn't know him, and doesn't owe him a goddamn thing.
"So?"
She narrows her eyes at him and her trembling mouth firms with her glare.
"And that, right there? Why I need to go. See you tomorrow, Weevil."
He knows he won't, of course. She'll be spooked as fuck tomorrow - probably try to avoid him all week, maybe even the rest of the term.
It's probably for the best, he tells himself, but then the door catches his foot and he's kicking it, outraged, losin' it for no reason at all.
… to be continued.
Disclaimer: This fanfiction was written for personal enjoyment rather than profit. No infringement on the rights of the intellectual property owners is intended.