Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/302946.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      American_Horror_Story, American_Horror_Story:_Murder_House
  Relationship:
      Tate_Langdon/Violet_Harmon
  Character:
      Tate, Violet
  Collections:
      Yuletide_2011
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-12-25 Words: 3092
****** to learn a thousand things a person has to still start with one ******
by pesha
Summary
     Tate and Violet share a very intimate moment. When people are young
     and in love, they want to know everything about each other, but to
     learn a thousand things, one still has to start with one.
Notes
     Takes place before episode six of the show and Tate is still mostly a
     mystery to Violet. There may still be spoilers for the show though,
     in case you haven't seen it entirely.
School at Westfield was completely jacked. Every day was a living nightmare
where no one had a clue how to get their heads out of their asses and Violet
genuinely thought she'd learned more in the eighth grade than what she was
being taught at their high school. She dreamed about the East Coast while her
new teachers went on above stuff she'd already learned years ago and spent her
lunch periods in the bathroom trying to avoid getting another humiliating beat
down. It would have come from a different pack of girls -still bitches, just a
different set since Leah had lost her power after the accident- but it would
have come for her if she'd gone out to face it.
Violet wasn't scared though. She was beginning to think that Tate was right in
thinking that she wasn't afraid of anything. Fear had never been a big
motivator for her, period. Her biggest motivation turned out to come from
anger, pure and simple.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?"
She was panting and her panties were literally soaked from where Tate had been
grinding into her for what felt like hours. Sweat was sticking her hair to her
face from where they'd been rocking against each other while kissing and
kissing and kissing and her lips were fucking bruised and he wouldn't even let
her get his shirt off. What was that about?
Tate opened his mouth -his lips even looked a little bruised, cherry red and
swollen from where Violet had been biting at them every time he pressed in hard
enough to hit the good spot for her- and she could see the protest forming
already. She had heard enough excuses from him to last a lifetime and it had
only been a few weeks. They hadn't been going at it every day, sure, but it
felt that way sometimes. Fuck, sometimes it felt as if every day was the same
in the house and Violet only dreamed that she had left it to go back to school
or to run errands with her mom or to sneak out to hang with Leah who had turned
out to be surprisingly cool after she'd been all enlightened and shit in
Violet's basement.
"Don't give me any bullshit either. You know what I'm talking about. Why aren't
you interested?"
She had pushed him to the side while she tried to figure out what his deal was,
but Tate rolled back between her legs to press in meaningfully. If Violet
hadn't been so fucking pissed off, she might have been embarrassed about how
wet she was since she knew, just knew he was going to wind up with a wet spot
on his pants from grinding into her. As it stood though, she was angry enough
that she didn't give a shit. Let him worry about whether or not his mother
noticed his pants smelled like pussy when he threw them in the wash. He
deserved it for jerking her around.
"I'm interested," he touted in a protest that was all pouting lips and sad, sad
eyes, "You don't think that's interested enough?"
Violet shoved at him again until she figured out that he wasn't going to let
her push him away this time. He really must have been panicking if he was
fighting to keep in her space under the circumstances. She needed the space
though whether he wanted to give it to her or not so she dug her heels into the
mattress until she had pushed herself up the bed to settle her back against the
headboard.
"You know what I mean. You won't even let me get my hand under your shirt. Are
you afraid I'm going to find out you've got boobs? Seriously, Tate, you being a
cocktease stopped being cute weeks ago. I'm over it."
Tate rose up to his knees and his sweater fell too far down for her to see the
bulge in his pants that she'd been feeling but that didn't stop her from
looking. He rubbed his hands down his thighs as if his palms were damp. Violet
would have fallen for that if he hadn't had his hands under her shirt only
moments before. If Tate suffered from any embarrassing ticks, sweaty palms
wasn't one of them. She'd definitely have noticed by now.
He must have noticed that she wasn't buying it because his expression changed
in a way she hadn't seen before. He chewed almost nervously on his lower lip
for a moment before fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. Violet lost track of
his facial expression because her attention was too busy focusing on the peep
show he wasn't quite giving her while he seemed to be making up his mind about
whether or not he was actually going to take the goddamned thing off already.
She knew exactly when he decided against it since she was watching when his
hands relaxed and smoothed the material back in place.
Her eyes rose to meet his as he settled fully on his heels. She was pretty much
prepared for anything he could possibly throw at her, excuse-wise, but then
Tate opened his mouth and Violet realized that she could definitely still be
wrong. That wasn't something that had changed even though everything else
seemed to have out on the West Coast.
"You don't have a cock. I can't be a cocktease."
"Are you serious? That's your response? Fuck you, Tate. Get out."
That definitely got a response. Definitely. Tate actually looked fucking scared
for a moment and Violet felt a flush of power that only served to fan the
flames of her indignation. He'd been screwing with her head for weeks. It would
serve him right to get a taste of that.
"It's not that big."
His hands clenched hard on the hem of his sweater and Violet's eyes nearly went
crossed at that. That was his deal? There was no way that was his issue. If the
guy had been grinding into her any harder, he'd have left a cock-shaped bruise
on her skin for her to measure later.
"Again. Seriously? Do I look stupid to you? Do you have a funky birthmark? A
venereal disease? A freakishly large mole? There's no way I'm buying that
you're worried about how big your dick is, Tate. Read my lips: no and way."
Tate's jaw clenched as he protested, "I only said that because you were
listening. In your dad's office, I mean. I was fucking around trying to impress
you. I don't want you to think I'm some kind of porn star or something."
If Violet had rolled her eyes any harder, she would have permanently sprained
something.
"Trust me. I think it's big."
"Yeah. I still have my clothes on. It doesn't really count. That's like if I
told you I liked the way you taste. You wouldn't agree I could say that because
I've kissed you, would you?"
Her face flushed and Violet wanted to scream in frustration. It shouldn't be
fair that he could make her blush by talking about tasting her pussy when she
hadn't gotten even a little red while talking about the size of his cock. That
wasn't even a little fair.
"That's not the same thing. You completely know that's not the same thing."
"I think it is and isn't it all a matter of perception?"
Violet felt her anger -blessed, familiar anger- flare back up at the bullshit
shrink speak that he'd likely heard from her dad. She worked to get her hands
under her skirt while keeping the material in place as much as possible. Once
she got her hands hooked in her tights, Violet shoved at them until they were
all the way down her thighs so she could settle back against the headboard and
take them off entirely. Tate was staring at her, really, really staring at her,
as she pushed her hand under her skirt again and into her panties. She rubbed
her fingers deliberately hard into her sex to get them slick with her own
wetness before she let her hand reemerge.
It felt as if it were someone else's hand stretching out between them when
Violet offered her glistening fingers to Tate. Her voice was familiar, filled
with every bit as much sarcasm as before, but her fingers didn't feel like her
own at all as they both stared at them.
"Okay then, perceive that. Taste me. Tell me what you really think."
She couldn't connect her fingers to her body until Tate's mouth was on them.
His hand was wrapped around her wrist to hold her in place and he licked at
them before he sucked one and then two into the heat of his mouth and Violet
wished for a moment that she really did have a cock because she'd make him suck
it exactly like that if she did: hungry and greedy and hard. Her fingers took
effort to pull free of his sucking mouth and the sound it made was obscene.
Violet would definitely have blushed at that sound if she hadn't still been red
already.
"Tell me. What do I taste like? Is it good? I think you like it, but maybe
that's just my perception."
"You taste salty and sweet and a little like rainwater. Drinking the ocean
maybe? I don't know. I like it. I do like it."
"How I taste, you mean? Say it. Say you like the way I taste."
Tate parroted back for her, "I like the way you taste, Violet."
His face was still cool and the only flush he was sporting was from kissing her
earlier. It made her furious since the heat from her face felt high enough to
get a fucking sunburn off.
Violet stared him down as she issued her demands.
"Your turn. You wanted to talk perception? Fine. It's all a part of give and
take in these things, so I showed you mine, now you show me yours. Stop fucking
around at fucking me, Tate, and take your dick out."
The sound of his zipper was impossibly loud in her room; Violet was literally
stunned that both her parents hadn't been summoned by it to burst through her
room and demand to know what the fuck was going on in there. Her eyes were
riveted on his hands as Tate pushed his sweater up almost irritably to unbutton
his pants and peel apart the opening of his fly. He wore boxers which was
unexpected, but they looked pretty plain to Violet before he shoved those down
under his balls. The band of the boxers was snug enough under his sac to push
his balls up snug and tight and his dick was flushed at the tip twice as red as
her face which was oddly gratifying.
Violet noticed his breathing sped up as she started to really look at him so
she just kept staring. She made herself take him in with an objective eye. Porn
was free on the internet and Violet had definitely seen her fair share from a
combination of curiosity and boredom. His dick wasn't disappointing as far as
she could see. He wasn't a porn star, but he was definitely big enough that
she'd feel it; her inner muscles clenched hard at the very thought of how much
she'd feel it.
"I think you're big."
Saying it a second time was harder than the first. The anger was fading away
and Violet wasn't sure what was taking its place in her chest. It was a warm
feeling, a heaviness that was spreading out from her heart all the way out to
her fingertips and her toes. Violet would have rather been stabbed in the eye
than call it love, but it was something. It felt more real than anything else
she'd ever felt at least.
Tate gave a weak scoff at her, "How many have you seen?"
She turned it back on him easily enough though. Violet thought that she might
be beginning to get him.
"Plenty. The internet is for porn, right? How many have you seen?"
His expression changed again, an enigma written out in muscle movements Violet
had no hope of understanding.
"I'm not gay. We have to change out for gym. Westfield doesn't think we need
curtains in the boys' locker rooms, didn't you know?"
Violet took a chance on getting the truth out of him. They hadn't ever talked
about what had led to him leaving the high school. It was one of only a
thousand things about Tate that Violet would kill to know.
"Is that why you got kicked out? Bullying? You get fed up because they called
you a fag too many times? I could get that, y'know? They call me all kinds of
shit there. Kids are assholes."
"I---I didn't really get kicked out."
Tate's eyes skittered away from hers and Violet was struck by how odd that was
that he could look her in the eye with his dick out, but he couldn't when he
was talking about being picked on at school? People who said girls were hard to
read clearly hadn't met a guy like Tate. He was harder to read than ancient
Greek. At least they had books on old Greek. Violet had a feeling there wasn't
anyone anywhere who had ever tried to write a book on understanding Tate.
"No?"
"No," he offered, quiet enough that she almost didn't think he'd said anything
at all, "I just---couldn't go back."
His voice was practically begging her not to press him for more and Violet
really, really didn't want to if he was going to freak out over it. She was
having fun with the strange intimacy they had adopted. It felt free, liberating
somehow. It made her bold.
She leaned forward to reach for his dick, folding her legs underneath herself
as she went and trying not to think about how much she really wanted to take
her panties off to see how far he'd let her get. Violet already had her lips
parted in anticipation when Tate grabbed her shoulders to pull her up. He
wrapped his arms around her and she fell into him. The swollen length of his
shaft was pressed into her belly between them and she made an embarrassing
sound in reaction.
"No," he whispered, his voice cracking from some unnamed emotion into her ear,
"You don't ever have to do that. I don't need you to do that."
"Why?"
It was a breath of air, a questioning wind more than a real query. He answered
her though.
"My mother did that. She thought she had to. She went from being my mother to
being a cocksucker and my father left and I don't ever want you to think you
have to do that. I wouldn't ask you do that for me."
"What if I wanted to?"
"How could you want to? I just told you. My mother was a cocksucker and I don't
want you to have to be like her and you think you want to?"
Violet turned her face to press a kiss against Tate's neck. He shuddered in her
arms and held her tighter, tight enough to make it hard to breathe and almost
impossible to get a hand between them though she did it. She wrapped her hand
around his length and he felt hotter than her face, hotter than the surface of
the sun. Rubbing her thumb over the slick, angry-colored head, Violet wondered
if she'd wind up with the shape of his dick burned into her hand when he came.
"Everyone's mother is a cocksucker if their dad is lucky. You know that,
right?"
He laughed then, a young, wounded sound, and Violet thought again about the
thousand things she didn't know about Tate.
"You'd want to? Really?"
"Would you want to? Really?"
His body went still in her arms and he leaned back gradually, slowly moving
away from her as if he didn't want her hand to let go.
"You'd want me to do that for you? I never have. I might not be very good at
it."
Violet moved her fist down Tate's dick from tip to base and twisted it back up
again, hard enough to feel the skin move but not nearly as hard as she could.
She'd read enough and heard enough gossip while hiding in the bathroom at lunch
to know that most guys liked it a little rough. His hips bucked in her grip in
reaction and it was helpless enough that she knew she'd done something right.
"I've never done it before either. I'm willing to test perceptions again with
you. I'll show you mine and you tell me what you think then you show me yours
and I promise to give you an honest answer on how well you did? Fair?"
He kissed her hard, suddenly, thrust his tongue in her mouth and Violet sucked
at it to prove a point. Tate pulled back and this time it was his face that was
flushed and Violet thought she might finally, finally be starting to understand
again.
"Nothing is ever fair. I guess you haven't learned that yet."
Violet raised a brow as she started to let go of his dick only to have him wrap
his hand around hers on the shaft, holding her hand in place.
"I'm in though! Deal."
She grinned before she started to work out how to make this happen. Violet
figured she might be terrible at it, she might really fucking blow at blowing,
but at least she'd have tried. Fuck, Tate might be right about himself and he
might suck at it. She figured they could try it together and find out.
There were a thousand things she wanted to know about him. A thousand things.
Her panties were easy to push off with her tights gone and Violet couldn't
think about anything at all except how no one could learn a thousand things
about anyone without first starting with one.
Her first thing she was determined to find out about Tate was going to be how
he tasted in her mouth and the second was going to be if he was any good with
his own.
The way she saw it, they could figure the rest out later. It wasn't like they
were dying any time soon. They were young.
They had all the time in the world.
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