Summary: After a long flight, Zig and MC (Lydia) need to stay awake to get on London time. Luckily, they find the perfect activity to keep them occupied while they reminisce about where they began.
“I’m so excited to be here, but I want nothing more than to take a nap right now,” Zig said as he and Lydia made their way out of Heathrow, their huge backpacks hoisted onto their shoulders.
“No, you can’t!” Lydia protested. “It’s only 11 AM here, we have to stay up and get on London time to avoid jetlag.”
Zig groaned, but didn’t object.
“Besides,” Lydia added with a mischievous grin. “I thought you were worn out on the plane and ended up getting some rest?”
Zig playfully pinched her side, making her giggle.
“Oh, you wore me out, alright,” he said. “But the plane wasn’t exactly comfortable, I felt like I kept waking up every fifteen minutes.”
Lydia reached for his hand and threaded her fingers between his.
“I’m sorry,” she said, not sounding the least bit apologetic. “I promise I’ll make it up to you later.”
“By way of a nap?” Zig asked hopefully. Lydia laughed. “I know, I know. I’ll stay up, I promise. But you might need to prop open my eyes in a few hours,” he said.
“So,” Lydia said, changing the subject as she gave his hand a quick squeeze. “You said you booked a hostel for us tonight, right?”
“Yes, I did. Say that, I mean,” Zig said. Lydia waited for him to continue, but he didn’t.
“What does that mean?” she finally asked.
“Well, I didn’t actually make any reservations at a hostel,” Zig admitted.
“Oh,” Lydia said. “Well, that’s okay … we can just pick one. How hard can it be, right? I mean,” Lydia said with a smile, “after all, this is how we’re going to run the rest of the trip.”
“I said I didn’t make reservations at a hostel,” Zig said, a knowing smirk playing across his lips. “Actually, I made reservations somewhere else.”
“Oh?”
“Yup,” Zig said as they stepped into the misty London rain and he raised a hand to a black cab, which stopped at the curb. He tossed his backpack into the trunk and took Lydia’s, packing it in beside his before they climbed into the backseat.
“Where to?” the driver asked in a clipped accent.
“The Rookery,” Zig said, glancing at Lydia with a grin. The driver nodded and Zig settled back into the seat. He took Lydia’s hand in his and kissed her fingers as the cab pulled away from the curb and into the London streets.
“Oh my god!” Lydia exclaimed when they opened the door to their suite.
“Do you like it?” Zig asked, dropping their bags on the floor.
“Babe! This is incredible!” she said as she let her eyes wander around the room. The furniture was heavy and ornate, with a large four poster bed draped with thick red curtains and a brocade bedspread woven with gold. It looked like a room fit for British royalty. “God, I almost feel too much like a peasant to even be in here.”
“You look like a queen to me.”
Lydia glanced back and saw Zig’s cheeks flush with embarrassment. He wasn’t often verbally demonstrative like that and she knew it made him bashful. She crossed the room and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in the hollow of his neck. He returned her embrace, pulling her close against his t-shirt, still damp from the London rain.
“This is amazing,” she murmured, her lips brushing his clavicle. “I don’t know what I did to get so lucky.”
“You didn’t have to do anything,” Zig said, squeezing her tighter. “You’re you and I love you.”
Lydia reached up with a hand and tilted his face down to hers. She kissed him softly, her fingertips grazing his cheek. Zig’s lips were warm and she felt everything outside of herself begin to slide out of focus the way it always did when she kissed him. All she could think about was the feel of him against her and soon, she wanted more. Lydia tugged at the front of his t-shirt and pulled him with her as she led him across the room towards the four poster bed. When she felt the backs of her legs bump against the bed, she sat down and pulled him with her. Zig put a hand on either side of her on the bed, but when she tried to lie down, he didn’t come with her.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, sliding a hand underneath his t-shirt and running her fingers up the length of his spine.
“Dia, I’m sorry,” Zig said. “But if I get even vaguely horizontal, I’m afraid I’m going to fall asleep. I’m dead tired.”
“No, you can’t sleep!” Lydia protested. “We have to get on London time!”
“I know!” Zig agreed. “I want this trip to be perfect for you, and I don’t think perfect involves me being jetlagged for a few days.”
Lydia gave a resigned sigh, but she pulled his hips against hers.
“I promise I’ll keep you awake,” she said with a mischievous grin. Zig groaned and playfully bit at her shoulder. “Hey!” she protested with a laugh.
“I know you will, but then afterwards I really won’t be able to keep my eyes open,” Zig said. “You have a tendency to wake me up but then wear me out.”
“Oops,” Lydia said with a shrug, not looking or sounding the least bit apologetic.
“Tell you what,” Zig said as he straightened up and took her hands in his. “Why don’t we go explore the city a little, and later I’ll make it up to you?”
“I guess that would be okay, Zigmund,” Lydia said as she hauled herself to her feet with exaggerated disappointment. Zig rolled his eyes.
“Oh, god, you’re using the full Zigmund. Now I know I’m in trouble.”
Lydia laughed and kissed him.
“Alright, mister,” she said. “Let’s go see London.”
After a day of taking photos of Big Ben, watching the changing of the guard, and exploring Piccadilly Circus, Lydia and Zig found themselves at a bar as night began to fall over London. Zig took a sip from his dark, bitter ale as he examined the pool table, trying to choose his shot.
“My god, will you shoot already?” Lydia asked as she took a swig of her cider. “You’ve been staring at the table for ten minutes.”
“You’re exaggerating, gatita,” Zig said, but he set down his glass and leveled his stick with the cue ball. He lined up his shot carefully, but when he hit the ball, he barely nicked the red ball he’d been aiming for.
“All that preparation and that’s what you end up doing?” Lydia teased. Zig shrugged with a grin.
“Maybe I’m just trying to hustle you,” he said as Lydia examined the table. She wasn’t looking at him, but she could feel his eyes on her.
“Oh, you’re doing something alright,” she joked with a roll of her eyes. Zig laughed. She bent down to line up her shot, but she suddenly felt Zig standing behind her.
“Need any help?” he asked. Lydia stood up, feeling his breath on her neck as he moved closer.
“After that embarrassing shot you just took?”
Zig put his hand on her hip and moved even closer until his body was flush against hers.
“Is this okay?” he murmured in her ear. Lydia smiled, remembering their very first game of pool they’d played during her freshman year. However, she wasn’t thinking so much about the first game of pool as she was about what had happened in the back of the bar afterwards.
“Excuse me, sir, but you’re making it very difficult for me to take my shot,” she said, pressing back against him.
“Are you complaining?” he asked, his lips brushing against her neck as he spoke.
“Not at all,” Lydia said. “But I thought you were so tired from the flight and from our long day of playing tourists.”
“Strangely enough, I’m feeling very awake at the moment,” he murmured, sliding his hand from his hip around to her stomach, his fingers grazing the tops of her jeans. She could feel that he was telling the truth. Without another word, she took him by the hand and led him out of the pub.
They were barely inside their hotel room when Lydia grabbed a fistful of Zig’s t-shirt and pulled him close, her mouth searching for his. The room was dark, with only a faint glow from the streetlamps floating through the gauzy window drapes. He kissed her and pushed her against the door, practically slamming it shut in the process. His lips left hers and trailed along her jaw, her earlobe, and down her throat, his hands cupping her breasts. Lydia tugged at his shirt and he quickly yanked it off, tossing it aside. She kissed him again, letting her hands run over the muscles in his back, finely honed through hours of football practice. Lydia ground her hips against his, grabbing his buttocks and pulling him tightly against her.
She felt his hands slide down her front from her breasts to the top of her jeans, his fingers fumbling with the button before finally freeing it and tugging down her zipper. Zig’s lips left hers and he knelt in front of her, pulling down her jeans as he did so. Lydia ran a hand through his hair and he yanked off her panties, letting the damp lace puddle around her ankles. She stepped out of them and Zig caught her right leg before she put it all the way back down. He put her thigh over his shoulder and leaned closer to her, his breath hot on her already trembling legs. Zig ran his lips along the inner thigh of her, biting and licking her skin as he drew closer to her core. Lydia shivered, desperately wanting to feel his mouth on her. She tilted her hips forward, her body begging him to come closer.
Zig’s tongue finally connected and lapped at her hungrily. Lydia moaned, tugging at his hair as his fingers dug into her hips, both steadying her and undoing her all at the same time. His tongue slid inside her and around her clit, moving in the ways he knew she liked best. Her desire mounted quickly in the semi-darkness of their hotel room and before long, Lydia’s hips began to buck against his mouth. His hands gripped her harder, steadying her as he pulled her closer and closer to the edge. Just when she was about to climax, Zig sucked hard on her clit and Lydia came undone, crying out as she came on his tongue, pulling his hair as he buried his face between her thighs. The leg she was still standing on began to buckle but Zig pushed her harder against the door, holding her up as she came.
When the sensitivity of her body overtook her and it was too much to bear, Lydia finally gasped that she couldn’t take anymore. Zig finally moved his mouth away, tracing his lips and tongue along her skin as he made his way back up her body. He pulled her shirt off and threw it away, her bra quickly following suit. Zig captured one of her nipples in his mouth, flicking his tongue against it, already hard. He let one of his hands wander down over her stomach and between her legs before he slid a finger inside of her wetness. Lydia trembled at his touch, sure she would have collapsed on the floor had Zig not been holding her up. She fumbled clumsily for the front of his jeans and tried to undo the button, but her fingers were too shaky.
“I need you,” she gasped, her hips moving against his hand as he added a second finger and slid them in and out of her.
“You need me?” Zig murmured, rising enough to bring his lips close to her ear. Lydia could hear the smirk in his voice. “Are you sure?”
“Please,” she begged, no longer feeling in control of her own body as she desperately pulled him closer.
Zig removed his fingers and swept her into his arms, carrying her over to the bed. He deposited her on top of the sheets and she reached for him again. Zig kissed her for a moment, his tongue folding against her as she tasted herself on his lips, before he pulled back. He gently guided her until she was kneeling on all fours on the bed, facing away from him. Lydia could hear the rustle of fabric and she knew he was taking off his pants. The bed shifted a little as he knelt behind her and he caressed her backside. Zig ran one of his hands up her spine and tangled it in her hair, wrapping it around his fingers. With his free hand, Lydia felt him trace his fingers over her sensitive, swollen lips.
“What do you need?” he asked, his voice husky. He was still tracing her lips and Lydia realized it wasn’t his fingers. She pushed her hips back, but he pulled away, not letting more of him inside than just the tip.
“You,” she begged, desperate to feel him inside her. Zig tightened his grip on her hair and tugged. Lydia moaned at the sensation, wanting more.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked.
“Fuck me,” she pleaded.
When Zig finally pushed into her, thrusting hard, Lydia cried out at the overwhelming pleasure of him filling her, again and again and again.
“Is that what you want?” he asked.
“Ye–oh, fuck,” Lydia moaned as Zig’s free hand found her clit, his fingers rubbing her in circles to match the rhythm of him moving in and out of her. Lydia was overcome by her body and as she felt the orgasm rising, her arms collapsed underneath her and she dropped to her elbows. Zig didn’t let go of her hair and he didn’t let up his rhythm for a moment. When she came, Lydia buried her face in the brocade comforter to muffle her cries, her hips writhing hard against Zig as the orgasm roared through her body. As her climax began to subside, she felt Zig begin to speed up and she knew he was close. Soon after, she felt him come, pulsing inside her as he fell forward over her raised hips, his nails digging into her skin.
After a moment, Zig pulled out and collapsed on the bed beside her and Lydia slid her knees out from underneath her so she was lying flat on her stomach. Zig leaned over and gently swept her hair to one side, leaving feathery kisses along the back of her neck and shoulders.
“That was …” she started to say before the words faltered, disappearing behind her lips as she tried to regain her breath..
“Yeah,” Zig agreed. “It was.”
“We should travel overseas all the time,” Lydia said, her voice still half-muffled by the blanket. Zig laughed.
“You know,” he said, still panting a little. “If your former housemates thought you were loud before, all I can say is they have no idea.”
“Was I that loud?” Lydia asked.
“I’m pretty sure they could hear you all the way back in Hartfield.”
Lydia gave him a half-hearted smack on the arm and Zig laughed. He caught her hand and kissed her palm.
“I’m definitely not complaining,” he said. He rolled her onto her back and Lydia looked up at him, his face only vaguely illuminated by the streetlamps outside. “Just when I thought you couldn’t possibly be any sexier, you go and do that.”
Lydia reached for his face and gently pulled him to her. She kissed Zig and snuggled against him, wrapping a leg over his hip. Zig traced his fingertips from her knee up to her hip before bringing his hand flat against her lower back.
“Welcome to London,” he murmured. Lydia couldn’t be sure, but she could have sworn she felt his smirk against her lips.
“Welcome to London.”
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