Chemistry||drabble
The kamina’s venom glistened on the crystal and Isaac, feeling actually kind of accomplished after a chemistry assignment, held the tongs closer to Lydia. The look she shot him was almost distasteful, but there was a spark of intrigue in them that had his blood heating. He wasn’t some freshman anymore, chasing five feet of cinnamon colored hair and green eyes. He was a werewolf now, he wasmore.
He barely recognized Scott’s stupid interruption, he was focused on Lydia, on the shiny pink lips that had just been moments away from passing or failing his Alpha’s little test. Isaac swayed forward, setting down the chemistry tongs and looking up at Lydia from under his eyebrows. He watched her roll her eyes away from McCall and back onto him. He didn’t even care that the venom didn’t work on her, he was too busy watching her tongue lick the grains of sugar from her lipgloss.
"What’s the verdict?" he asked, his voice sounding foreign in his ears. The corner’s of Lydia’s mouth turned down slightly, her lower lip poking out a bit as she considered his words. Then, very surely, held out the candy between her fingers under his nose.
Her eyes narrowed, daringly. “Why don’t you have a taste?”
He waited for a beat, then two, and never once did her gaze waver from his face. Quick as lightning his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, holding on just tightly enough to make her swallow, drawing her hand closer to him. She swallowed again, but this time there was a heavy, heady undercurrent to go along with it. His tongue darted out, tasting sugar cane and grapefruit lipgloss before he closed his teeth around the hardened sugar and broke off a piece.
The sound of his molars grinding against his chemistry project was almost as loud as the sound of Lydia’s heart beat in his ears, the smell of her almost as thick as the tension at his back. A delicious smirk joined her narrow eyed ensemble, and Lydia unceremoniously dropped the candy in her fingers, raising her forefinger to her mouth to suck off the sugar. It was Isaac’s turn to swallow, straightening slightly as his fingers slid down her forearm, curling into the crook of her elbow.
"If you’re quite done, Lahey-” Mr. Harris’ voice was like so many nails against a chalk board, and worse was it ruined the moment. Isaac flicked the tip of his tongue across one canine, turning his eyes onto his soon-to-be-dead chem teacher with an annoyed expression.
"Oh yeah," he drawls instead, staring down Mr. Harris until he shifts uncomfortable and practically spins away, stomping back to the head of the class to finish his lecture and present another piece of homework to their ever growing pile. No one bother’s to write it down.
Isaac’s contemplating skipping out of his last class with Erica, maybe regroup with Boyd and Derek, when his pulse jumps as Lydia’s fingers brush against his thigh. He looks sideways at her, sure it was an accident, and she’s looking so prettily indifferent at her text book that he believes it.
He’s still leaning across the desk, practically in her personal space and uncaring; he’s close enough to distinguish her perfume from her conditioner and the kind of toothpaste she uses. The moment he looks away her hand is back on his leg, warmth spreading across his knee as she sighs in boredom and leans an elbow against the desk. She’s better at the power play game then Derek is, she’s winning, and her hand keeps climbing up his thigh.
Isaac isn’t sure if he should be scared or not, (this is Lydia Martin after all) but her touch is so sure that he’s struggling to keep his breathing even. Her hand slides around the inside of his thigh and squeezes, and he nearly looses it. His elbow slips off the table, but he doesn’t dare make a sound; instead he looks over at Lydia, itching to smooth away the crinkled frown between her eyes as she ignores him and focuses on her notes.
He can smell her, hear the throb between her thighs, and it’s maddening. He’s suddenly thankful that he’s sitting down because he’s so hard he hurts. There’s no doubt that she doesn’t know what she’s doing, or the effect she has on him, but what’s so surprising is what he’s doing to her. He wasn’t good looking, at least he’d never thought so, but there was something about Lydia that told him looks only went so far with her. He was confident now, no more roaming the school like a shadow and trying not to breathe too loudly when he was at home.
Mr. Harris practically skips out of class as the bell rings, and the room clears out immediately; Lydia’s hand is off his leg but she’s slow to pack up her things. Isaac rolls his shoulder, glancing behind him to find Erica staring at him with a knowing smirk as she leans against the doorframe. They need to talk to Derek about Lydia-the-homicidal-lizard, but he doesn’t want to, not yet. He dismisses Erica with a flick of his eyes, turning back to lounge forward on his stool just in time to catch a glimpse of the creamy white skin of her thigh as Lydia shifts on her own chair, uncrossing and recrossing her legs.
“Hey, Lydia-“
Isaac interrupted Stiles with a sharp glare and a flash of yellow eyes, and right on cue Erica reached out to grab the collar of his shirt, and dragged his yelping ass backwards into the hall. Scott leveled a glare on him, but followed, probably anxious to get to Derek and plead for Lydia’s life. Isaac took the opportunity to guard the redhead until further instruction from his alpha was given. The moment the door shut behind Scott, Lydia was on her feet, leaning back against the table and staring at him curiously.
“Something’s different,” she purred, raking her eyes across his shoulders and down his chest, taking her sweet time to measure him up. She propped one high heeled foot on the bar of his stool, between his legs, pressing her knee against his crotch. He bit back a hiss, but wasn’t able to help the involuntary jerk of his body as arousal shot through him like electricity. “It’s hot.”
Isaac didn’t bother answering immediately, there was nothing to say. It was true. Lydia placed her palms behind her on the table, her dress tightening across her chest. He curled his hand under her knee, sliding up the back of her thigh until his fingers brushed against lace and silk. He could hear her heart jump and her breathing became shallow. Isaac flashed his teeth at her sweetly. “I know it is.”
He practically uncoiled, raising to his feet and stepping between her legs as he crowded her personal space, tilting his head down to graze the tip of his nose across her temple. His fingernails (the normal ones, the mood totally would have been ruined if he wolfed out on her) bit into the back of her thigh, drawing her leg over his hip; Lydia tilted her head, catching his eye and giving him a withering look that promised verbal violence and social execution.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
He grinned, tempted to ignore her. “I can stop,” he said with a casual shrug and pressed his pelvis into hers, pushing her onto the table behind her. Lydia made a noise in the back of her throat that could have been out of surprise or protest. He slid his hand around to the inside of her thigh either way, under the hem of her dress, and dropped to his knees in front of her. Isaac looked up at her again, lifting his eyebrows for permission to continue, and found Lydia staring back with a gleam in her eyes that made his blood heat.
“Oh please continue.”
And heightened senses were wonderful, Isaac thought as he pressed his nose to the soft skin of Lydia’s thigh, her legs widening to accommodate him almost instinctively. A low moan escaped her mouth, her fingers curling into his hair as his tongue pressed against her center, tasting her through the material of her panties. He pushed the fabric away, the heady scent of arousal making him light headed. Lydia’s grip tightened on his hair, pulling his face closer as his tongue and teeth worked her clit, adding a finger to join his mouth in his mission to get her off. She hummed in approval, her thighs tightening around his head and urging him on.
“Fuck.”
That whispered gasp was the only warning he got before she came in his mouth, arching into his face. Isaac leaned back on his heel, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. Lydia bit her bit, swinging one foot cutely as she stared down at him. He took it as an invitation to stand, placing his hands on either side of her and leaning in closer, eyes on her lips.
"Do I taste good?" she asked haughtily, tilting her chin up. His mouth ghosted over hers.
"Sweet."
