Archive of Our Own

Sometimes Kim thinks Daniel likes Lindsay more than he likes his own girlfriend. People think Kim's stupid, but she notices things. She notices the wayward glances and she's almost certain that, in Lindsay's head, Daniel's the popular quarterback crush to her geeky awkward Mathlete. Lindsay probably thinks Daniel has hidden depths that she could drag to the surface. She probably thinks there's some kind of actual intelligence behind the ridiculous, not-very-manly-at-all bravado.

There is not.

Kim is also half convinced the only reason Daniel manages to pull off the cocky aspect on Lindsay is he's imagined her naked in detail often enough that he thinks he has some kind of upper hand in their relationship. Friendship, dynamic, whatever. He has such a clear image of Lindsay's perky tits in his head that they're practically real to him at this point and somehow, in his twisted brainless skull, that affects Lindsay in some way. Basically, in Daniel's world, Lindsay's the hot, innocent librarian to his James Dean alter ego.

Kim's not sure how she fits into either scheme. They probably write her out altogether in their little fantasies, which is all fine by her, thank you very much, but she's bored a lot, so she thinks about that. She thinks in the librarian scenario she'd probably be the long-suffering girlfriend who dirtied herself up for the bad boy and now that her life's fucked up beyond repair the bad boy's gotten bored and needs someone new to corrupt. She'd probably try to warn the librarian out of jealousy and end up cheating on the bad boy with his best friend before the bad boy even thought about growing the balls to break up with her.

In the quarterback scenario, she's. She's the bitchy blonde head cheerleader who... believes in Jesus and pretends to be a virgin for life even though the quarterback pressured her into giving it up when she was like, fourteen.

Kim may or may not groan in disgust in the middle of English class, because bitchy blonde, yes, but Christian cheerleader, oh God no.

She'd probably invite Lindsay into the cheerleading squad just to ridicule her in front of the whole school during the biggest game of the season, and then Lindsay would cry and the quarterback would try to comfort her and realize that his girlfriend was not as good as she seemed, and then they'd hook up, and the head cheerleader would go all psycho on them, reinforcing the movie-goer's idea that the quarterback and the pretty geek are made for each other, and the head cheerleader should take all her prejudices and neuroses and hypocrisy and walk into a river carrying them as weights.

Kim absolutely does not feel a sudden rush of sympathy for the cute, perky cheerleaders in the school squad just because maybe they're just conflicted inside. If she does, which she doesn't, she's not admitting it. They're still overly privileged and too stupid to be so high up on the social scale. Kim does not relate.

Lindsay's nice, though. Lindsay likes Kim about as much as she likes Daniel, just in a different way. Which sucks every other day, because every other day Daniel shows Kim just how little he values her, and every other day Kim wants to cheat on him just to show him she can. Not flirt or tell him she has, but actually have something major going on in her life that he has no say in.

And Lindsay would be perfect for it. The hot librarian seduced with honesty by the girlfriend of the bad boy who was trying to corrupt her. Right under his nose. Because, if you think about it, how many librarians would let themselves be lured into bed by someone who's both taken and whose girlfriend has warned them he's scum? Kim thinks not a lot of them. Porn clichés have a gazillion plotholes; it's one of the two or three reasons Kim can't stand to watch those movies.

And, okay, maybe it's not just scorning Daniel. Maybe she's thought about it a bit. A lot. The first time an image of Lindsay writhing under her touch popped up randomly in between unrelated fantasies, she came so hard she hit her ankle on a rough spot of the wall and made it bleed. Then it kept happening and she thought, well, I'm already a freak, might as well be a lesbian, too, and indulged in it. If it wasn't for Daniel throwing dirty looks at Lindsay all the time, it wouldn't even have occurred to Kim to see her as a sexual being, and she practically dry-humped Daniel on Lindsay's bed once. She's not sure whether she wants to thank him or hit him.

Mostly she just wants to go back to Lindsay's room and do to her what she did to Daniel, except with more effort and less clothes and a lot more tongue, and hopefully no thoughts of Daniel whatsoever, because Kim is not sharing Lindsay. Lindsay's the one thing she wants for herself.

Kim's not sure what it is about Lindsay's room, though, except for how Lindsay's been grounded for a month and paid her sentence because she thinks it's worth it, which, whatever, that's her prerogative, but Kim thinks once she's allowed visits, or once her parents and Sam go to that party one of Lindsay's neighbors is throwing, Kim could easily just swing by and wind her up about unfair punishments and persuade her to defile that childhood bed of hers. Because childhood beds needs to be defiled, and that's teen freedom protocol, and it should be on Lindsay's likely physically existing list of things to do before she's out of high school.

"Really?" Lindsay asks when Kim informs her of this, leaving out the part about wanting to be involved in it. "Shouldn't that be before I move out? Or before my parents get rid of it? I'm gonna be out of high school in a year, I don't. I'm good."

"You're so naïve," says Kim.

Lindsay attempts to reason against the claim, but whatever she's trying to say comes out in gibberish, and at the end she just says, uselessly, "I'm not naïve," and she doesn't even sound all that sure. "I walked into an orgy once during the tour."

"And you ran screaming for your life."

"It was an orgy," Lindsay repeats. "It was... gross. And private."

Kim snorts, because one, it wasn't private, and two, Lindsay sounds all of five years old, but she doesn't tell her that. Lindsay's not five years old. Kim has no interest in orgies herself. Kim thinks the Deadheads do them partly because they're never gonna see each other again, or remember each other if they do, and partly because of the 'shrooms. Lindsay's just ridiculously sheltered, and Kim can feel herself getting wet at the thought of inexperienced Lindsay figuring out what makes Kim squirm—or figuring how to make herself squirm. She's probably never considered getting herself off, Kim realizes. She probably doesn't even know it's a possibility.

"Have you ever," she considers the wording carefully and tries not to look too holier-than-thou, "touched yourself?"

Kim has no idea if girls actually talk about this stuff. She doesn't have a lot of female friends, but it's clear Lindsay and Millie never have, and if there was any doubt about it, Lindsay's sudden blush confirms it. Maybe they shouldn't be talking about this. Maybe Kim shouldn't have brought it up, but Daniel broke up with her again last Saturday, and this is like, the best time to do this there's ever going to be, and Lindsay's not wearing a bra.

Kim notices this because Lindsay's nipples are hard under her pajama top for no external reason Kim can discern, and Lindsay's biting her lip, and there's no way to turn this back into a friendly conversation now.

This is dirty talk, as far as Lindsay's concerned, and Kim suddenly feels a surge of warmth rise up her neck.

"I..." Lindsay begins, eyelids fluttering in thought. "I don't know," and she looks down at her hands over her lap, fidgeting.

"How can you not know?" Kim says, quieter than she expected, softer, not as sarcastic. She thinks it's a reaction to Lindsay's tone; Kim's words are clearer, but not flashy. They fit in somehow.

"I mean, I know," Lindsay says, and it sounds like she's gonna say something else, but she doesn't.

Kim's hand fits between Lindsay's, too, and Lindsay looks up, eyes wide.

All of a sudden Lindsay's lips are on Kim's, and Kim doesn't know how to react, because she hadn't even considered that could happen. She thought she'd have to push. She didn't know Lindsay would cave in so easily. She didn't think Lindsay would ever initiate, but there she is, and before Lindsay pulls away completely, Kim mentally slaps herself and cups Lindsay's jaw with her hand, brings her back in.

Her hair is soft, her skin is soft, but for some reason it's not weird at all, just different. Not that Kim expected to be weirded out by it, because Kim isn't weirded out by many things, but it's still a surprise.

Then Lindsay's small hands slide under Kim's sweater and there's contact, skin on skin, and Kim doesn't even think before she takes it off.

"Oh," Lindsay mouths, surprised. Kim smirks at her.

"Yeah," Kim says, and Lindsay goes still, like she doesn't know what to do.

So Kim helps her by fumbling with the buttons of her pajama top. "Um," Lindsay mutters, "I'm not—wearing—"

"I know," Kim says, nodding, and Lindsay gets a glint in her eye, like she's finally caught up with what's going on, with what's about to go on, like she didn't propel it into happening in the first place.

Lindsay murmurs a syllable, something that might be wait, Kim isn't sure, and then she's climbing on the bed, knees bent, thighs on her heels. Kim is there a second later, tugging at the buttons of Lindsay's top again until they're all undone and she has access, can lower her mouth to nibble at Lindsay's jaw and downwards, until Lindsay's lying back, squirming, and her legs are disentangling, stretched around Kim's body, accommodating it.

Lindsay shakes her head when Kim tugs at the edge of her pajama bottoms, and Kim has a moment of panic, of suddenly not knowing where Lindsay thinks this is going, but then Lindsay grabs Kim's hand and spreads Kim's fingers over her belly, pushes downwards, and Kim doesn't need to be told twice to slide her hand inside Lindsay's underwear.

Lindsay's ridiculously wet already; it's so easy to slip a finger inside her, so easy to rub her clit with a thumb until Lindsay starts pushing her hips up against her hand.

When Kim looks up, Lindsay's watching her. It's intimate, the way Lindsay's looking at Kim, like she's sharing something really special with her, and it's—it's not about corrupting virgins, it's not about being a rebel. It's about Lindsay, who's beautiful despite how hard she tries to hide it, who's in a good place but is open-minded, makes an effort. It's about Lindsay sharing a part of herself with Kim of all people, and it hits Kim pretty hard, how much that whole mess of stupid emotional connotations turns her on.

"Oh my God, Kim," Lindsay whispers, her mouth taking on the shape of an 'o', and Lindsay's calves shiver against the back of Kim's thighs as she comes, hips rising, feet shaking over hers.

They manage to get Kim's jeans off between the two of them, and then Lindsay's small hand is crawling into Kim's panties and Kim's shuddering before Lindsay's even touched her, meeting her fingers halfway, sitting up to reach Lindsay's lips with her own, to let her know she likes to be kissed through it. Lindsay yields easily to her wishes, starts on her mouth and finds the spot above her collarbone that makes Kim moan loudest, and it's like a hurricane, the few remaining teddy bears falling off the sides of the mattress, the bed creaking beneath her as she screams.

"Does this mean we're not gonna be able to do this when my parents are home?"

Kim blinks. What, she thinks she says, except she's pretty sure she just thinks it and no sound comes out. She's frowning, though, so Lindsay explains.

"You screamed," Lindsay points out. "Really loud."

Kim cracks up and almost falls off the bed, because one, her head's halfway off already, and two, really, that's the kind of thing you say when you're trying to turn something into more than a one-night thing, not when it's true, except Lindsay's totally serious, and looks kinda terrified. "I don't think your neighbors heard me."

"Are you—"

"And if they did, they're not going to assume this," says Kim with a chuckle, pointing vaguely at their discarded clothes. It's a shame, actually, because no, they're not going to assume anything like this even if they know Kim was there when it happened. Even if the window's open, even if she sneaks out through it. Michigan is not a place where this ever crosses anybody's mind.

Lindsay smiles softly.

Sometimes Kim does think Daniel likes Lindsay more than he likes Kim, but deep down, Kim kind of likes Lindsay more than she likes Daniel, too, so it works out. Silently and secretly, right under everyone's noses, it works out. It sucks that Kim can't use this to freak people out, and it sucks when she realizes she can't use this to freak Daniel out, but maybe that's why it matters.

Maybe it's the one thing that does.