A Hero in the Night

Rated:             X

Setting:            AU, Not long after LBYL, Milwaukee

Disclaimers:     All the usual apply

Summary:        Laverne can’t stop thinking about Lenny’s proposal…or Lenny

So, no sacred temple had been violated, as Shirley so eloquently put it. No rabbits had died. Carmine even sang the Hallelujah chorus, echoing her own heart’s rejoicing when she’d heard the doctor’s verdict. All should be right with the world; everything back to normal – or what passed for normal in her life.

Yet here she was, still thinking about Lenny Kosnowski, which wasn’t normal by any of Laverne’s standard definitions. 

She sighed and rolled over to check the alarm clock between her and Shirley’s beds for the fifth time. 1:05. Two minutes since she’d last checked. Here she thought that first night she’d realized her period was late had been the longest of her life. Ha!

She rolled onto her stomach and stuffed her face in her pillow. Maybe she could half-smother herself into oblivion. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to think of Fabian, of James, of Elvis.

Lenny’s face reappeared on the screens of her inner eyelids. His blond hair slicked back into going-to-church tidiness, his ridiculous tie dangling from the collar of his best shirt, the one he’d dug out of a Goodwill bin that had been set up at the brewery last year.  His blue eyes. How had she never noticed they were the color of the sky right after a storm had cleared?

She growled into her pillow and flipped onto her back. Get out of my head! she demanded. But his eyes, his gentle smile, the hopeful expression he’d worn when he’d dropped to one knee remained stubbornly seared into her brain.

Other thoughts crept in, even less welcome but much more…stimulating. The feel of his wiry arms around her when they’d embraced. The solidity of his chest against her cheek. His unique scent of Brylcream, spicy aftershave, and Pfister’s Laundry Pflakes, laden over a natural musk that made the muscles in her thighs tense at the memory.

“Oh, for pity’s sake.” She flipped over onto her side and stared at her sleeping roommate, weighing her need to talk this nonsense out against how crabby Shirley would be if Laverne interrupted her beauty rest. She glared at her friend, hoping she’d somehow sense Laverne’s need and wake herself, but no dice. Shirley continued to dream, a slight smile on her face, her arms wrapping her slender form in self-embrace.

Bet you’re dreaming of Carmine, Laverne thought. She grinned. As much as Shirley protested she was over the philandering boxer, Laverne knew better. Hell, everyone did. All they had to do was glance at Shirley’s face whenever Lucille sauntered over to Carmine’s side to see the truth of her feelings. The only dumbbells who were blind to the truth were Shirley and Carmine themselves.

You should be together, Laverne continued her silent conversation, you’ve been into each other since high school, for heaven’s sake! You’ve been friends forever, you still flirt all the time, you know all the good and bad stuff about each other. The attraction is so obvious, just like it is for me and….oh. Oh!

“Oh, no,” Laverne continued aloud. She sat up and cradled her head in her hands, shaking it. No, she and Lenny were different. They’d never dated – not for real – and they could hardly be called friends. Could they? What else were they, if not friends? Hell, the guy had offered his entire life to her when he thought she was in trouble by someone else. Who but a friend would be that kind, that self-sacrificing?

Not that he’d acted as though it would be a sacrifice to be with her. Not at all. He’d made it seem like it’d be a goddamn privilege.  What kind of a guy does that for someone who is barely a friend, who they didn’t accidentally knock up?

Maybe it was time she found out.

Laverne swung her legs over the edge of her bed and yanked off her hairnet. She fluffed her hair with one hand as she grabbed her robe with the other. She was out the door of her apartment and heading up the stairs before she had an idea of what she would do once she got to Lenny and Squiggy’s.

Confronted with the door, she pulled up short. Her breath caught in her throat. What was she going to say to the man, standing there in her jammies and robe at this ridiculous time of night? Hey, Len, just dropped by for a chat. You busy? She smacked herself in the forehead with the heel of her hand and turned away from the door.

Which swung open behind her.

She froze. Oh, please let it be Squiggy, she thought. Squiggy she could easily bamboozle into believing she was sleepwalking and make a pretty clean getaway.

“Laverne?”

She winced. The voice, though weighed down by drowsiness, was unmistakably Lenny’s. She slowly turned and looked at him, framed in the doorway. “Uh, hiya, Len. What’s…doing?”

He blinked at her, one hand tangled in his short blond hair, the other scratching his stomach. His undershirt was hitched up and Laverne got a look at his surprisingly solid-looking belly and just a glimpse of the line of fine hair that ran from his bellybutton down to….

She gulped and turned away again, trying not to think about where that line of glory might be flowing. What is wrong with me? I must be possessed. She decided that she’d call Father DelVecchio in the morning for a confession and possible exorcism.

“I was just finishing my bedtime cup of Bosco,” said Lenny. He yawned. “Ya want some?”

“Oh, I’d better…wait.” She took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. Better to deal with this now, get it out of her system, else she’d never sleep a wink tonight. She turned and faced Lenny. “Yeah, sure. Bosco’d be great.”

He grinned and bowed, waving her into the apartment like a New York doorman. “After you, my lady.”

She entered and curtsied. “Why, thank you, kind sir.” They giggled together and Laverne felt warmth rush through her that thrilled and frightened all at once.

“So,” she said, standing by the small card table and folding chairs that served as Lenny and Squiggy’s dining room set. He hurried over and knocked a stack of newspapers off one chair, then held it out for her. She sat down with a nod, unable to take her eyes off his bare arms. They weren’t the arms of a bodybuilder, but all the beer keg lifting he did as a trucker gave him a solidity that was unexpected. She swallowed.

“What you doing up at this hour?” asked Lenny. He flipped his chair around and sat so his chest was pressed against the back of the seat as he stared at her.

“I…uh, what’s your excuse?” There was more snap in her voice than intended. She couldn’t seem to find a good way to rest her hands on the table. Instead, her fingers curled and uncurled around each other, as though seeking prayer position.

He shrugged, unaffected by her tone. He was probably pretty used to her snapping at him, she figured. She did it all the time. Only this time, she felt guilty about it. “Had a date that kept me out late. Me n’Squig, we doubled with the Schwartzbaum twins.”

“Oh.” Laverne folded her hands together and planted them firmly on the card table. “So. How’d that go?” She found herself holding her breath.

Lenny rolled his eyes. “The way it usually does. Squiggy’s off at Monica’s place while Veronica got a convenient headache and gave me the kiss off. Same old, same old.” He shook his head. “You know me, not exactly the lady’s man like Squiggy.”

Laverne released her breath, relief confusing her thoughts further. “Well, it’s her loss,” she said, “obviously you got the twin with no taste.”

Lenny looked up at her, his eyes wide. “Wow. Geeze, thanks Laverne. That’s awfully nice of you to say.” He paused, mouth open as if to say more, then snapped it shut and just grinned at her.

She tried to tear her eyes away from his, but his sleepy gaze held her fast. “They’re really blue,” she murmured.

Lenny cocked his head to one side. “What is?” He looked down at his crotch.

Laverne slapped her hand over her face. “No, not those, I mean your…Good Lord, what is wrong with me?”

“Nothing that I can see.”

She peered at him through her fingers. “Would you please stop?” She wasn’t sure if she was addressing him, herself, or both.

Puzzlement warred with the open affection on Lenny’s face. “Stop what?” He leaned across the table. “Laverne, you still haven’t said what you’re doing…?”

She reached out and cupped his face in her hands, lunged halfway across the table, and kissed him full on the lips.

Lenny’s eyes opened so wide she could see the white encircling his damnably beautiful blue irises. Then his lids lowered to half-mast as he leaned into her kiss, his hands encircling her head lightly. His mouth was as warm and inviting as it had been in her fevered imaginings earlier that night.

He broke away abruptly, falling back into his chair with enough force that he nearly took it down with him to the floor. Gulping and shaking, he waved his hands as if to ward her away. “Are you drunk or something?”

She lowered her head, unable to look into his face. Shame burned her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Len, I’m so sorry. I know you think I’m a complete slut who just gets wasted and then does…whatever with whoever…how could you not, considering what just….” She couldn’t finish. Tears stung her eyes and she swallowed a sob.

He was on his feet and standing by her side in an instant. “Aw, no, Laverne, I don’t think any such thing. I just assumed – I mean, I’m me. You wouldn’t…with me. Not if you was in your right mind. Not unless I’m dreaming this again.” He looked thoughtful, then pinched himself, hard, on the forearm. “Ouch! Nope, not a dream.”

“More like a nightmare.” The tears that escaped her eyes did little to cool the heat of her embarrassment or ardor. Something he said caught her attention. “Again?”

Lenny flushed pink. “Well, it’s just that a lot of this night since you showed up has been kind of like some dreams…forget it.”

“Forget it?” She laughed like a crazy person. “I wish I could! I can’t seem to forget anything about you since yesterday. I can’t forget you knocking on my door all dressed to the nines. I can’t forget you getting down on one knee and asking me to be your wife. I can’t forget how sweet you were, or how you felt in my arms, or how you looked at me…like that!” Her voice rose and she jabbed an accusing finger at his chest. “Just like that, with those eyes and that look!”

“What look?” His words were hushed. He knelt in front of her and the last of her resolve melted like a Hershey bar in the summer sun. “You mean, like you’re beautiful? Like you’re wonderful? Like you’re everything I ever wanted in a girl but never dared hope….”

She slid her arms around his broad shoulders and drew him close. Her lips brushing his, she whispered, “Yeah. Exactly like that.”

His mouth landed on hers first this time. His passion enflamed hers and she knew there was no turning back now. Reason and logic were no match for the desire, the longing Lenny’s lips drew from her very core. She closed her eyes reluctantly, wanting to see that expression of utter adoration on his face but unable to resist losing herself in feeling, sensation. His fingers, calloused and strong, brushed down the sides of her neck and over her shoulders, landing on her breasts under her thin pajama top. She opened her eyes and met his. The query was clear, if unspoken, Are you sure?

She responded by shrugging off her robe and guiding his fingers to the buttons of her top. He fumbled with the top button until it slid open, then gave up and ripped the rest clean off. Her eyes fixed on his, she nodded and moaned her approval. He growled deep in his throat and wrapped his arms around her. She locked her legs around his hips and he stood up, supporting her easily. Their lips remained joined and their tongues danced as he carried her into his bedroom, one arm supporting her back while his other hand roamed freely over her bare peaks and the deep valley between them.

She retained the presence of mind to glance at Squiggy’s bed and pulled her head back long enough to ask, “What if Squig comes home?”

Lenny’s words came out in short gasps. “He won’t. Trust me, Monica’s a go-all-night kinda gal.”

Good enough for her. Laverne’s mouth slammed back into his, her tongue darting, exploring, encircling his. Lenny dropped to one knee and lowered them both with tantalizing slowness onto his bed, knocking his stuffed iguana across the floor in the process. She stretch out beneath him, held her arms wide as he hesitated. “Laverne, I’m just a guy,” he said. “If you got any second or third thoughts, you gotta get out of here now.”

“I ain’t going nowhere, Len.” She reached up and caressed his face, his chest. Her fingertip traced that delicious line from his stomach to the base of his cock and he shuddered. “I’m right where I want to be.” One last, sensible thought entered her mind. “Uhhhh, you do have some, you know, protection? Right?” Hot and bothered as she was, she had no desire to have another conversation with her father about a possible bastardo ever again.

“I don’t,” he said. Her heart sank. He rolled off her and lunged for the small nightstand between his bed and Squiggy’s. He yanked the small top drawer out so hard that it clunked onto the floor, spilling its contents. He rifled around in it until he came up with a sealed rubber. “Fortunately, my roommate is the prepared sort.”

Laverne blessed Andrew Squigman for the first time in her life. She took the condom from Lenny and ripped the top open with her teeth. “This can wait a few minutes,” she said and set it down next to the pillow.

“Okay, then.” Lenny grinned. “You got something in mind first?”

“A little warm up.” She sat up and pulled Lenny down beside her. She kissed him again, nearly became lost in the sensation, then sat up and slid down his legs. She pulled his pajama bottoms down with her until they were bunched around his ankles. Her heart skipped at the sight of his solid erection, now thrusting free. She licked the palm of her hand and wrapped it around his shaft. His back arched and she hoped he had the wherewithal not to let loose too soon.

She rubbed him up and down within the cocoon of her fingers, twisting her hand as she went from the base to the tip of his cock. It was a little trick she’d learned from Terry Buttafucco back in the day, a move that was a revelation to boys who thought hand jobs could only bring them so far. Lenny was no exception; he nearly writhed right off the bed. “God, Laverne, Laverne,” he moaned repeatedly, a prayer in the night.

She felt him stiffen from stone to iron and knew he was ready. Should she go down on him, too, or would that be too much torture?

He took the decision away from her. He grasped her shoulders and rolled on top of her, then scooted to the bottom of the bed, his lips between her legs. “One good warm-up deserves another,” he said.

He blew lightly and her clit warmed and stiffened. She clutched the sheets and moaned, her hips rising from the bed. His breath again, hot and long, teasing her to the edge of frenzy. His tongue followed, quick licks and light taps from her opening to the tip of her clit. She bit her lip to keep from screaming, half wanting him to get on with it already, the other half desperately hoping he’d go on and on and on….

His tongue was skillful, practiced. It shocked her. Clearly the man knew what he was doing. A tiny part of her got pissed off – so much for the Lenny-the-unlucky-virgin image he maintained. Most of her was too engrossed to give a shit about who had schooled the boy. He was here with her now and all of his attention was on her pleasure. Nothing else mattered.

He circled her bud several times and then his lips closed around it and he sucked. The slow buildup became an explosion, blinding her. Sounds escaped her lips she’d never imagined she was capable of making and her entire body rocked as wave after wave of agonizing pleasure rippled out from her wildly stimulated pussy. Lenny grasped her hips as she bucked beneath him, sucking and licking her juices like they were the finest wine.

Finally, she was able to lie still again and opened her eyes. She looked down at him and he grinned, his lips and chin glistening. “So, that’s what it’s supposed to feel like,” she said. She tangled her fingers in his hair.

He took an edge of the rumpled sheet and wiped his face, then slid up until his face was next to hers. “This ain’t the first time you’ve come, is it?” Worry creased the area between his brows.

She smoothed it away with her fingertips, kissed his neck. “No, not the very first. There was this one time with…never mind.” Talking about other guys seemed like a violation now. “But usually, if I’ve gone this far – and I don’t that much, not as much as other people claim – well, truth is, I’m usually disappointed in the end. Most guys just fumble around down there like they’re lost.” She nuzzled against him. “I ain’t never had it like you just gave it to me, Len. That was fucking amazing.” The word wasn’t one she used lightly, but all things considered, it seemed the most appropriate.

Lenny grinned shyly. “You know what they say about dorky guys. We got to try harder. Most girls won’t let me go – and if they do, that’s as far as it goes. I try not to disappoint. I hate when they look at me….” He broke off and Laverne felt the sting of a hundred rejections on his behalf.

She framed his face in her fingers and said, “There’s no disappointment in this room,” she assured him. A lascivious smile curved her lips. “And it’s your turn.” She reached under the pillow.

He rested his hand lightly on top of hers. “Vernie, this is gonna be your first time going, you know, all the way,” he said. Concern filled his eyes. “You only get one of these. Are you absolutely sure…?”

She pressed her free hand over his mouth. “Absolutely. Sure.”

His mouth broke into a wide smile beneath her fingers. “All righty then,” he mumbled.

She released his mouth and pulled out the condom. Nerves filled her stomach with butterflies, despite her confident words. She wanted him so much that her recent orgasm was nearly forgotten, but what he’d said was true; there was only one first time. Shirley’s relentless preaching about the sanctity of the wedding night echoed in her head. On the other hand, she was a grown woman and there was no husband on her horizon. What if there never was? Was she supposed to die a virgin? Besides, she’d torn her hymen in a spill from her bicycle when she was twelve years old. It wasn’t like there was any intact evidence for her to maintain.

She looked down at Lenny and her doubts dissolved like Pepsi fizz in milk. She thought back to a trick Rosie Greenbaum had described to her one drunken night after an Angora Debs meeting, the one she’d later used, no doubt, to land her rich hubby. Laverne put the condom in her mouth and lowered it onto Lenny’s still-rigid dick. He moaned his approval as she slid it over the tip and down the shaft, unfurling it with her tongue. She held it in place and gave him a few solid sucks before rising up on her haunches and guiding him into her slick pussy.

He filled her completely, a broad hand in a tight glove. Like a couple of puzzle pieces, jigsawed into a perfect fit. She locked hands with him and used his arms to support her as she impaled herself on him again and again. The flame she’d thought he’d thoroughly quenched flared anew between her legs, deeper this time. She sought the center of the conflagration, his manhood her tool.

Lenny grabbed the pillow and shoved it against his face. He bit and worried it like a dog with a chew toy. After several more thrusts, he threw it across the room and grabbed Laverne’s shoulders. She yelped at the iron bands of his fingers, but the stinging pressure only turned her on more. He flipped her onto her stomach and she drew her knees up instinctively. He entered her dripping pussy from behind and the reverse stimulation made her clit snap to attention. “Yes, yes!” she cried, not caring how loud she was, not caring about anything but his passion and the tantalizing release promised by each thrust of his steely rod.

“Laverne!” he shouted. Her name was a curse, a blessing, a vow in the night. The sound of it on his lips, uttered in passion and complete joy, burst the dam against her fulfillment. A rush from deeper inside than she’d ever thought possible bubbled up and geysered outward. Her clit thrummed within its sheath for a second time and she was completely unable to stifle the cry that accompanied it. At the same time, she felt Lenny pump inside her, a fireman’s hose shooting jets against her flames. Their bodies vibrated to crescendo together, then, spent, they both flopped down on the bed. His weight atop her back was pleasantly uncomfortable.

After what felt like an hour but was probably only several seconds, Lenny rolled to one side. “Sorry, didn’t mean to squash you there.”

She was as limp as overboiled linguine. She smiled and waved one hand weakly. “S’nothing,” she assured him. “I’m good.” Now there was an understatement.

They lay there, just staring at each other. Finally, Lenny said, “Now what?”

Those two simple words were laden with meaning. What would come next, now that they’d been together? Were they a couple? What would their friends say? Hell, what would her father think? Had this been just a one-time thing or was it the start of something…real?

“Let’s deal with it tomorrow,” said Laverne. She clawed for the blanket they’d kicked to the edge of the bed and tugged it over the both of them.

He pulled her against his chest and buried his face in her hair, inhaling as if to bring her inside him. “Okay. Tomorrow.” He closed his eyes, his arms surrounding her, protecting her from the rest of the world. Her hero.

She smiled and drifted off with ease. She may not have been certain of tomorrow, but she was confident in that night.

-- END --