Baby, It's You
By Missy

SERIES: Souvenirs
SUBTITLE: Baby, It's You
FOLLOWS: Souvenirs, Fire With Fire, Bury That Jewel,
High Sierra, Walking Lonely, Blues Along The Way, Balloons Land, Do You Know What it Means to Miss New Orleans, Somewhere Sails
PART: 1 of 1
RATING: NC-17 (Het Smut)
PAIRING(s): L/L

DISTRIBUTION: To LW, Kai, Myself and FG so far; any other archives are welcome to ask, but disclaimers must be included, my email left intact. send a URL, and provide full disclaimers as well as credit me fully. Please inform me if you are going to submit my work to any sort of search engine. Please do not submit my work to a search engine that picks out random sets of words and uses them as key words, such as "Google"

Please contact me in order for this story to be placed on an archive, or if you want know of a friend who would enjoy my works, please email me their address and I will mail them the stories, expressly for the purpose of link trading. MiSTiers are welcomed! Please do inform me that you'd like to do the MiSTing, however, and send me a copy of the finished product. I'd also love to archive any MiSTings that are made of my work!
CATEGORY: Songfic.
FEEDBACK: PLEASE?!
SETTING IN TIMELINE: California Era
SPOILLER/SUMMARY: Laverne and Lenny pass the time in a Mississippi motor lodge during a thunderstorm.
NOTES: Tenth fic in a shared universe. Lyrics from the Burt Bacharach song "Baby, It's You." Don't belong to me, they belong to ASCAP.

****

It was too hot to move.

Every cell in her being cried out for a cool bath, but that required energy, and every last ounce she had had been spent dragging the billions and billions of paper bags they had aquired during the trip upstairs. A stifling breeze wafted through the room, adding only more heat to her baking skin.

"You wanted out of Milwaukee." She mumbled to herself, then smiled bittersweetly. She remembered too many bemoaned winters, freezing-cold air stinging her lungs. Common sense should have reminded her that it was worse to be hot.

"I got food!" Lenny burst into the room, placing Styrofoam containers on the bedspread before her. He wrinkled his nose and smacked his lips against the stale air. "Boy, it's hot up here."

"Yeah, I opened up all the windows, but the one in the bathroom wouldn't budge." She pulled the tab on the container. "Barbecue!" She grinned.

"I hope you like it, cause there ain't much else out there." Lenny said. "They were sayin' something about thunderstorms down in the restaurant, so it might get cool."

"Good." They began munching down their ribs, corn, pork-butt and plain white bread. Halfway through, Laverne felt herself full, and gave the rest of the meal to Lenny, who happily wolfed it down.

She felt completely comfortable sitting beside him, the screen door sending a sweet breeze over their bodies. The heat, her minimal clothing, and the dim lighting reminded her of their evening together in New Orleans.

He handed her a cold beer and lounged beside her, dumping the empty containers on the floor. "Laverne?"

"Mmm?"

"You think I can make it in Nashville?"

Laverne thought about it for a minute. "You're good with a guitar, and you sing real nice. They need more guys like you, Len."

"Yeah; more ex-brewery workers-slash-talent agents." He laughed shortly.

"Stop it." She insisted. Outside, a clap of thunder roared, followed instantly by a sliver of lightening. Through the scream door, she watched as the flashing light came closer and closer to their motel, illuminating the dark green leaves of the trees surrounding the property. Silence floated between them like a familiar specter. They both froze as the light sputtered, then flickered off. "Great; whatt're we gonna do with no TV?"

He smiled at her knowingly.

She tilted her head. "Get me some light first."


**


Four minutes later, Lenny returned with a glass kerosene lantern. "The night manager says power's down all over the city..." He stopped in his tracks and stared at her as she lay across the bed.

"It was hot." She said, shrugging. "All I had was underwear."

He continued to stare. "Yer beautiful." She heard him whisper.

"It's just old underwear, Len. And you saw it back in New Orleans."

"So? I ain't used to seeing you like this. Not yet."

"C'Mere." She said. "Remember this?"

As he sat down on the bed, she laid an empty beer bottle between them.

His eyes showed confusion. "Seventh grade?" He wondered.

"Yeah...remember? My birthday party."

"Nah; that was five minutes in heaven, remember? I grabbed you an'..."

She winced. "...I hit you...."

"...And then I fell and broke your pop's umbrella."

"Sorry, Len."

"S'allright. I'm used to it."

"Shouldn't be. I don't know why the bottle's familiar." She eyed it. Then a sudden montage of memories floated through her mind. The Royal Cactus...tequila. Kissing Lenny. "Oh." She said quietly.

"What?" He watched her with hazy, far-away eyes.

"Never mind." She said.

He gently took the bottle from her and placed it between them. "Since we ain't never played Spin The Bottle...If it points to you, you choose what we do. It points to me, I do."

"Good deal." She sat back from the bottle and watched it spin in slow circles, until it pointed....

At her.

"Okay." She said, standing up at the right side of the bed. "C'mmere." She extended her arms.

He stood up. "What?"

"Put your hand right here..." She pressed it to her right hip. "You know how to slow-dance?"

"You wanna dance?" He sounded somewhat disappointed.

She nodded.

Wordlessly, he swayed against her, and it became less a dance than an undulation of torsos against one another. Heat began to flow through her limbs; her right arm wrapped itself around his neck, and she kissed the exposed area of collarbone bordering his tee-shirt.

"We need a song." She pointed out. He breathed against her ear, pulling her up, closer.

"Sha la la la la la la la"

She was seventeen again when he murmured those sounds. Seventeen, and dancing with him at their senior prom -having avoided the pain of having to go with her cousin Vito that year-. And his arms were the only things protecting her from the icy chill of a Milwaukee thaw as they danced a foot apart, while he stared at her and she felt awkward.

And made eyes at other boys.

"...It's not the way you smile that touched my heart. It's not the way you kiss that tears me apart..."

Other nights at the Pizza Bowl, dancing down the line, doing the "Walk", as she tried to fall into line with a sailor to avoid his touch. But he would mange to find her, as he was apt to do, just to twirl her around and try to dance more closely together.

"Many nights go by...I sit alone at home and I cry over you. What can I do? Can't help myself, 'cause baby, it's you...Baby, it's you..."

And California, listening to the jukebox and Cowboy Bills, and at Hoot Night. Just one of the songs she could never really get her throat around.

"You better not sing the part about being a cheat." She remarked.

"What can I do, and it's true." He retorted against her ear. "Don't want nobody, nobody, 'cause baby, it's you. Baby, it's you."

She let go of his neck, cupping his chin. "Is it?"

"It's always gonna be you."

"I can take a hint..." She kissed him, slowly, tickling his lips with her tongue before allowing him to take control. Heat burst to life beneath her skin, and she let out a half-muffled sigh as his fingers threaded through her hair, pulling it out of a ponytail. He pulled away from her kiss, his fingers left her head and rested on her shoulders.

She felt the heat coming from the open palms on her shoulders; suddenly, being warm wasn't so obtrusive. "You know that it's you, don't you?"

"Uh-huh." There was no teasing in his voice now.

"It is. I love you."

It was his turn to kiss her, and this time it both endured and sent chills of anticipation down her spine. His tongue tangled around hers, then withdrew; he nipped her lips and sucked on the lower one tenderly.

She pressed the hand on her shoulder down and to the right, until it reached the left strap of her bra. He broke the kiss, looked into her eyes, and pushed the strap downward.

The other followed, as the thunder rolled outside as if in approval.

His right hand slipped down her arm, fingers threading together. He walked around her, standing behind and sitting down on the bed while his fingers worked at the strap. She squirmed, trying to help him, willing to rip the thing so that she might feel his hands upon her.

The squirming only brought his attention to her rear, distracting him from his progress. He growled, pressing an open palm against her stomach, pulling her backward; onto the bed and into his lap.

She turned her head, pressing a kiss to his lips while she pushed the straps of her bra off of her arms, wadding it up against his midsection. Compressed, it was easily removed, and ended up in a heap on the floor.

She squirmed around, until she knelt on the mattress between his thighs. She shoved him backward gently, so that he could see her in the orange-shaded light. His eyes focused upon the soft rise of her breasts; full, their dark-wine color deeper in the flickering glow of the kerosene. He licked his lips, and she boldly lifted her chin.

Her boldness faded a bit. "Touch me?"

A smile spread over his lips, tenderness warring with lust in his expression. Lenny's hands cupped her hips and pushed her down to the bed, rolling until he lay atop her. She rewarded him for his acrobatics with a kiss.

She broke the embrace this time, and his mouth trailed down her chin, to her neck, licking and kissing, nipping the pulse-point at the base of her throat. She gasped, her fingers fluttering against the back of his neck, then dipping lower, until it bunched up his teeshirt. With a swift yank, it joined her bra on the floor, and his chest pressed her bare breasts. Lenny stroked her collarbone, watching the rapid rise and fall of her breathing. His open palm slowly stroked downward, before sliding to the right and cupping her right breast.

Laverne's breathing quickened dramatically, and she arched upward against his open palm. Encouraged, he squeezed.

Too hard. That wasn't something she tolerated with anyone.

"Easy, Len." She warned gently. He immediately let go of her breast.

He blushed, and a look of sadness crossed his face. "Maybe I oughta stop." He sat up between her legs and tried to turn away.

Laverne felt the separation from him as keenly as if it were pain. "No!" She gasped.

He raked his hands through his hair. "You need someone good at it. And I ain't."

"If I remember right, you're plenty good at it." She declared, straddling his knees.

He shook his head sadly. "You gotta say that, Laverne."

"I don't say nothing that I don't mean." she slipped her fingers down his chest. "Lemme show you." She kissed his neck...he didn't protest. She kissed his collarbone, then rocked her hips against his, the force of her motion sending him backward. She sat up, straddling his thighs.

Satisfied, Laverne slid her hands down his chest, through a light sprinkling of dark blond hair that decorated the slight definition of his pectoral muscles. She smiled to herself, tickling the tips of his nipples in concert, causing him to contract upward at the unusual sensation, his jaw going slack.

"Do you wanna stop?" Laverne asked.

He shook his head.

"Show me where you want me to go."

He grabbed her right wrist and pulled it from his chest down to his belly button. He hesitated, then gave in to his baser instincts, flattening her palm against the crotch of his jeans.

Laverne sucked in a startled breath; encouraged, she rubbed him through the denim, following the somewhat impressive shape as it bulged beneath her hand.

Lenny's head lolled to the side at her touch; she watched as his expression turned from grim determination to hold himself in check to unbridled desire. His hands shot downward and began to clumsily unbuckle his jeans. She tried to help, but he moved too quickly, and she had to move so that the jeans might come down and join her bra on the floor.

Laverne returned to her former position, looked down, expected to find underwear to impede her progress.

And instead saw him. All of him.

His voice came out in an embarrassed creak. "Uh, I left my boxers back in New Orleans."

"You only own one pair of shorts?"

"Laverne, I'm a guy! We don't got much ta dress up."

"That, Len," She announced, staring at him, "is bull."

He snorted. "Like you said, you gotta show me!"

"I would, but ya have your boots on."

Lenny gulped, unseating her again and reaching down to pull off the boots. She realized that he felt awkward, being exposed, probably as strange as she did kneeling there in front of him. He lay back, completely naked, and unable to meet her eyes.

Laverne's gaze fell to his groin; half-hard from his embarrassment, but somewhat formidable; a rose-shaded pink. A tiny bead-sized drop of clear liquid drizzled down from the head. It wasn't anything she had seen the previous day, but in the half-light of their little shack of a motel room, it was just as beautiful as it had been in the brighter lights of New Orleans.

She stared on; men were built so strangely. When a pillow suddenly obstructed her view, she realized that her staring and doing nothing was really making things worse.

"Cut it out." She insisted, then pulled the pillow away. She started stroking his belly, a sensation just ticklish enough to make him relax; his face spasamed with barely-suppressed giggles.

Her fingers threaded through his pubic hair, gently encircling his shaft and tugging. He groaned softly, emboldening her response. Cupping his testes in her palms, she shifted herself, lying flat against the bed. Her fingers stroked over the moist skin of his cock.

Lenny sounded like a dying man; rattling gasps and groans made their way through his lips as her fingers teased their way over the head of his erection. She licked over his glans and he bucked against her mouth.

"I needed to get you wet." She pointed out, before encircling his shaft with her right hand and slowly stroking downward.

The blue eyes opened, watching as her hand moved rapidly up and down. His moans were becoming guttral. Lapping with the tip, she panted against him before enclosing the head of his erection in her mouth.

He let out a strangled groan, which she quickly matched when he pushed on the back of her head, forcing her down on him, causing her to gag.

He was apologetic, murmuring, stroking her ears and then her hair. Gradually, the sensation passed, and she began to release him from the confines of her throat.

More carefully, she suckled at the head of the erection, then took as much of his as she could fit into her mouth. It was quiet enough; his entire body quaked, his hips bucking. She released him, leaving him quivering, red-cheeked.

"Laverne!" He shouted, along with the drumming of the rain.

"I want you inside me." She said. From the rictus of pleasure that crossed his face, she could tell that her words made up for the disappointment of being released.

She lay down on the narrow bed, and he was instantly over her, his cock pressing against her hip as he thrust his tongue into her mouth. She loved it his aggression and his sweetness in equal capacities; and threw her head back so that he would kiss her neck.

He read her mind, finding a sensitive point where shoulders and throat joined. Her turn to gasp; his smile was prideful.

He licked her nipples instead of sucking them. He alternated from one to the other and then back.

When he climbed between her legs, he gave her another kiss on the mouth. She could feel his erection against her belly while his tongue was in her mouth. She expected his entrance as soon as he broke the kiss, but he went back to her breasts, kissing all over both of them before resuming the licks on her nipples.

He deliberately began to kiss the undersides of her breasts, working down across her ribs.

"Len!"

"Uh huh?" He said from between her breasts.

"Now."

"Nope."

"Aww!"

"You ain't ready." And, to prove his point, he slipped his hand beneath her panties and stroked across her soft lips.

Now she bucked her hips, biting down on her lip to keep from screaming and arousing the motel's other denizens.

"Lift up yer legs...all the way." He said thickly. She raised them as far as she could, and he gently shoved them backward, pulling her panties off and tossing them to the floor.

Now unencumbered, he stroked her gently. His lips traced along her thighs, ghosting strokes. His breath gusted against her soft, open warmth.

He was torturing her. Torturing her on purpose! His tongue flicked over the exposed outer lips, heading upward...

Two fingers pierced her abruptly, accompanied by a gentle flickering touch upon her clitoris.

One stroke. Two. Three....She lost count, her pleasure hitting a plateau before suddenly coasting upward. Her fingers pumped into her as she lost all semblance of reason and order, fingers sliding through his slicked back hair as she spasamed around him.

It was the sort of orgasm that seemed to last for an eternity. What seemed like Minutes, what was in actuality seconds, ticked by before she could move. What brought her back to herself as he leaned over her was a kiss on her lips.

"So wet." She heard him murmur. She felt him reaching to spread her open and reached down to assist, feeling the smooth, warm, unencumbered tip of his erection...

Her eyes flew open. "Rubber!"

She heard him swear to himself, nearly tumbling off the bed in an attempt to find his jeans. She heard him heave a sigh of relief upon finding it, then giggled as he carefully tore the thing open.

"Glad I stocked up this morning!"

She weakly punched his arm, watching then as he carefully slipped the rubber down, encasing himself. The muted color of the lambskin made an intriguing shadow against his belly, and in some nervous part of her psyche she found it somewhat funny.

Lenny was beyond laughing at that point. He pushed her legs apart, climbed between them, and stroked himself against her. "I ain't gonna be able to stop." He warned her, gritting his teeth, guiding himself against her with his hands.

"I don't care."

"Vernie..."

"I love you."

Lenny let out a groan of submission before sinking into her completely.

She let out a gasp of pleasure when he filled her. The previous night's activities had stretched her, and she readily embraced the length of him.

"Len." She moaned, raising her hips. He was buried to the hilt inside of her, and yet she wanted more of him. She felt him rest his weight against her belly, shifting before kissing her bright cheeks and flushed lips. He cupped her breasts, resting his weight back against his knees.

He ground himself against her deliberately, and she let out a grunt of passion. His sudden withdrawal and swift re-entry sucked the breath from her lungs.

She lost track of the motions, the stroking. At some time he released her breasts, clutching her buttocks, deepening his thrusts. Everything about Lenny was honest, and as he had warned her that his self-control would be weak. The intense friction was nearly unbearable; Laverne cried out weakly as another, smaller orgasm cut through the haze, a miniature, rippling sensation that sent her contracting around his cock. She heard Lenny gasp, felt his grip on her rear tighten, felt him lengthen and harden impossibly inside of her before he shouted something unintelligible and threw his head back.

Laverne could feel every spasm, every tremor he made. She saw a smile form upon his lips, before he crashed down onto her vulnerable body.

When her breathing grew deep and even, when the world made itself known around them, she noticed that Lenny's hands were trapped beneath her rear end, that there was a cool breeze blowing in from the door, that he was squashing her flat, and that the man she loved was asleep.

She stroked the back of his head and he stirred; his smile was very tired but very happy. She grinned back, reaching out for a kiss, unable to give the extra effort of her tongue. When they separated, his expression had darkened.

"I told you I ain't good." He frowned

"Don't ya remember what I told you yesterday? Perfect." She pointed out.

The smile weakened. "I'm kinda scared that it ain't really that perfect."

"Len, you're gonna have to trust me," She stroked his spine.

The smile returned. His head fell to her shoulder and there rested.

Until the phone rang.

FIN


To "Somewhere Sails"
To "So..."










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