FIREWORKS, part one
by: AliLamba
rated: NC-17, duh, this is totally pwp.
A/N: Ehhh no clue when this takes place. Sometime in season 2. I don't want to know how I'm doing it wrong.

Technically, Veronica Mars is not a virgin.

Apart from the dreaded technical technical lack of virginity, which Veronica generally chooses not to dwell on, she's had a handful of completely sexual encounters with the person she once thought of as the love of her life, Duncan Kane.

"F.Y.I.? If cuddling's the best part, he didn't do it right."

Sitting in the back of Mr. Brice's history class, Veronica cringes at the memory. In part because of the circumstance in which the words were said, and in part because even the partial-truth hurts. But what is a totally inexperienced girl with a solid male role-model (thank you darling, doting dad for making me love myself in spite of men everywhere) to do? For all her bravado, there is one arena in which Veronica has no confidence whatsoever: the bedroom.

Mr. Brice ignores her while Veronica figures she should applaud herself for being so self-aware. Yes, a very defensive and proud part of her brain decided long ago that any man lucky enough to see her naked body would get what she damn-well gave and be mother fucking thankful… But in all honesty, the idea that someone could reject her at her absolute most vulnerable is terrifying. Sex with Duncan had been sweet and gentle and satisfying in the sense that she was pretty sure she knew what an orgasm felt like. I mean, it was good at the time, but she was still confused by all these allusions to 'fireworks' girls seem to mention with the culmination of intercourse.

And now sex with Logan is on the horizon.

She figured that one out after their last make-out session, crammed into the backseat of his Xterra this morning after she'd cornered him in the parking lot before school. There had been fondling and groping of Veronica, but when she'd instinctually tried to respond by fondling Logan through his pants…he'd said…

"Ah!"

For a moment Veronica is terrified. Then she is sorry thinking she might have hurt him. Then she is confused as to how she could have hurt him. Her wide eyes glance at his crotch, and then she looks back into Logan's eyes, dumb-founded.

Logan looks playfully wounded, his heavy breathing and dropped lower lip exposing how turned-on he is.

"Zippers," he explains. "We must always be mindful of zippers."

At this point Veronica realizes that she is supposed to relax, maybe do something confident and playful like demand Logan wear clothes that only fastened with velcro as all proper boy toys do… But instead she feels…embarrassed. She had no idea that zippers could interfere with male erections.

The morning bell rings as her embarrassment mounts. After a rueful sigh from Logan, there is an awkward make-out, smooth-out kiss and make up. Logan stays behind to cool down while Veronica makes it to class on time.

It is now second period, and Veronica is still deep in thought about sex.

She chews on her lower lip as her instructor waxes on about the French Revolution. Louis the XVI she could study for…but she is wondering…could anyone really study for sex?

Naturally, she could finally get around to watching all that porn these young kids keep yodeling on about, but when you share an internet connection with the aforementioned good and decent father-figure in your life, the very same one who potty trained you… There is just no firewall in the world strong enough to make her feel comfortable asking the world wide web for that kind of help.

Logan clearly has the advantage here. His first girlfriend was Lilly for crying out loud…and Lilly had been like sex wrapped up in a pretty pink bow. Logan could potentially be Veronica's teacher, but that idea conflicts with every self-righteous opinion she has of herself. Honestly she just can't be so…helpless like that. With anyone. The whole idea of letting some man teach her what to do in any circumstance makes her squirm.

Which doesn't really help her in this scenario. Logan clearly wants to have sex with her. It just goes along with the whole…male parts and female parts in proximity thing. And, frankly, Veronica wants to have sex with Logan too. Again, it goes back to the whole female parts and male parts in proximity thing. Particularly when those male parts are attached to a ripped, thick, sexy hunk of…

"Veronica?"

Veronica jumps in her seat and spins around, finding some pimply-faced freshman politely asking for her attention.

"What?" she shouts, annoyed.

"It's uh…it's just you're in my seat."

Veronica looks around, and finds a sea of unfamiliar faces. Right, she realizes, gathering her things abashedly. It is third period now.

While it does totally bug her that every kid in school seems to know her name by sight and reputation, a different thought preoccupies her mind as Veronica walks to her chemistry class. Logan is in a position to be her sexual mentor, if she can sacrifice enough pride to let him.

The problem with this is the innate submission of power – something she isn't at all comfortable yielding…to anyone.

Veronica frowns as she takes the seat at her lab table. It is far more appealing to resort to the you-take-what-you-get-or-you-get-nothing-at-all philosophy when it comes to sex with her boyfriend.

The problem with that is Logan's…apparent…skill. If he didn't always manage to unclasp her bra in one snap of his fingers, or if he didn't kiss like a freaking Olympic tongue champion, maybe she wouldn't feel so self-conscious and critical when alone in the aftermath, reliving their escapades.

Her teeth catch her lower lip again and she chews on it absently. She feels impossibly stuck. And when Veronica Mars feels impossibly stuck she always lets nature take its course* (*blatant lie).

But what the hell. They are both more or less animals anyway, right? And according to the Nature Channel animals can certainly figure out how to mate on their own.

Logan is waiting for her at lunch. She finds him propped against the wall of lockers across from her English room door after the class is dismissed for midday food.

An annoying flush fills her cheeks at the sight of him, especially given the preoccupation of her thoughts the last few hours. Veronica isn't much of a blusher, so she has the feeling that he can't see how much blood is in her face. But if he kisses her, the warmth of her skin will surely give her away…

Sex. The word pops into her brain before she can stop it and it stops Veronica in her tracks.

"What," Logan says casually, sauntering towards her in the way only Logan can. "Did someone steal your milk money?" He leans into her physical space, pinning her to the spot, ensuring that any classmates who follow Veronica into the hallway will have to take a detour around their bodies.

Logan touches her hair and slides a few pieces behind her ear. "Let me take you out. Sushi. My treat."

Veronica fights to smile thankfully.

The spicy tuna rolls take up most of their lunch period, so there are only time for chaste kisses before the final two classes of the school day. Their date had been fun and flirty and Logan had called her beautiful, so Veronica feels borderline confident while conjugating irregular Spanish verbs distractedly amid her peers. She decides that there's no way she could actually do something wrong to her boyfriend in a sexual way. Her body was made to experience sex, and by every indication it is primed for sex with Logan. She decides that there is no need to be self-conscious or feel inept in any way.

People just figured that shit out.

"Ow ow ow ow ow!"

Logan's face is red. His eyes are wide and it looks like he is trying really hard not to shove her to the opposite side of the car.

Veronica's hands spring away from Logan's crotch. She grimaces, mouth stretched open apologetically and anxious. What did I do?

"Too—" Logan tries to say, his face taught, his eyes now shut tight. "Too hard," he breathes. "There is delicate equipment down there."

Veronica looks down at Logan's lap. It's hard to see clearly in the limited light, but nothing she sees looks delicate. Maybe a little more wilty than before she'd tried to manhandle him (poor choice of words), but still. Certainly not delicate.

They were back in the Xterra again, but this time, Logan has the backseats pushed down to make a makeshift trunk bed with some sleeping bags and pillows. They are parked along some deserted part of the PCH, and they can hear the ocean rather than see it.

Logan's breathing is slowing, and his erection is similarly losing steam.

Veronica doesn't know where to look or what to do. She knows that men need a refractory period – does that include side effects of unnecessary roughness? And what had actually gone wrong, anyway? Veronica glances down at her hands, and flexes her fingers in the weak moonlight. Is she stronger than she thinks? And isn't it a known thing that guys like it rough? The tighter the better, right? Veronica tugs her lower lip between her teeth.

"Maybe we just cuddle," Logan suggests, making Veronica realize that he's been watching her this whole time. She agrees silently, with a bare glance in his direction, and lies down next to him, facing away from his mixed expression.

Veronica hears Logan collect his delicacies and zip his pants before sliding behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist and tugging her into his chest. He breathes in her hair and kisses her cheek so she can feel his contented smile.

"We are quiet this evening," he whispers. Veronica doesn't respond. "Quiet and rough." Logan bites her earlobe gently and settles in behind her, snuggling her close, and breathing her in.

All of a sudden, Veronica nearly feels like crying. How can she be so bad at this? All her enthusiasm, and she is doing it wrong?

She tries to think back to coupling with Duncan, and feels immediately guilty for doing so. But hadn't it been so easy then? A little above the clothes action, a little boob touching, then straight down to business all of the four or five times they'd consciously made love.

Maybe she should just stick to what works. Veronica twists in Logan's arms to face him. He catches her eyes and holds them, glancing back and forth between each one as if he can discover her mysteries if he looks hard enough. "What are you thinking, Veronica Mars?" he murmurs.

Veronica pushes herself forward, until her lips touch his. She can't decide what she wants: some sort of release is a priority, sex with Logan comes second, and saving face comes….well, it pervades most aspects of her life. She can do this, damnit!

Kissing becomes deeper faster than she's anticipated. Her tongue sweeps inside his mouth before he can properly kiss back, and it immediately triggers a response. He tries to push into her but she pushes back, rolling over his body so she can mount him properly and show him how capably sexual she is.

Veronica puts half her mind into kissing Logan's lips and sucking his tongue, and puts the other half in her hips. She slides down enough to hover her crotch over his, and then she sinks so they are touching through their jeans. She pushes her hips into him, feeling a rush of hormones when she feels something that can only be his returning erection. She pushes her hips in farther, swiveling in a way she imagines is deeply arousing. Logan moans into her mouth and Veronica feels a rush sweep through her. She is doing it! Veronica lets her mouth move on autopilot as she digs even harder into Logan's crotch, gyrating more seriously now. Veronica Mars can make grown men cream their pants, yes she can! A sound reverberates from Logan's throat and Veronica can't help but smile as she bites down onto Logan's lower lip – hard.

"Yeeeaaaaahhh-JESUS CHRIST VERONICA!" Logan bellows, shoving her off deliberately. "Are you trying to kill me?!"

He retreats to a seated position, pulling himself up with his legs. One hand is held to his lip (which she can see is leaking a little bit of blood) and the other is gingerly protecting his crotch. "I said it was too – fucking – hard!"

Guilt like ice water spills down her spine, as Veronica sits immobilized for a moment. Then she is scrambling to the trunk door and throwing it open, clambering toward the road. Only a few cars are out this time of night, but she needs to be out there, among them, and she needs to get away from her boyfriend. She tears blindly across the highway and toward the beach, only barely hearing her name being called out to her from behind. What is she doing? She doesn't know the first thing about having sex with a man. Yeah, she has cajones, but after all the wasted effort trying so desperately to impress Logan she realizes that she needs to face facts.

Logan is simply…better than her, at this. She cannot match him in this arena, and she needs to stop trying. Her pride aches and revolts inside her chest, attempting to reason that she is a desirous woman and reminding her of the he gets what he gets mantra... What happened to that? Veronica feels too stupid to be proud. She had been so preoccupied with being Logan's equal that she wasn't willing to relent to him on anything. Modern woman swims as a phrase in her head, defiantly, but meekly.

Logan catches up with her on the beach.

He grabs her arm and swings her around to face him. One hand is still at his waist, as if guarding his nuts by proximity.

"Veronica!" he shouts, exasperation dripping from his voice. Tears are welled in Veronica's eyes but she doesn't let them fall, and she prays that he can't see them.

"Jeez, so you like it rough, okay? You just…you need to go easy on me. I'm made of softer stuff than that."

She feels embarrassment burn through her again. How can she say that she wasn't trying to be rough…she was trying to be…well, she thought he would like it? She thought that's what she was supposed to do? Suddenly she wishes she was drunk – really drunk – so she could blame this infraction of her pride on something else.

She should really just tell him. It is time to come clean. It's time to fess up and let him teach her how to handle his parts like he probably already knows how to handle hers. Let him show her fireworks.

"Look—" she says, immediately deciding to do anything but be honest and do everything she can to protect her limited amount of self-worth, "obviously this isn't working. It's not going to work. So if you want someone to fuck so bad then you should go back to that slut Kendall, because from what I could see you must've had that down to a science."

Logan's mouth hangs open. He totally looks like an idiot, but Veronica's efforts to withhold any emotionally vulnerable outbursts override empathetic observation for his state of mind.

"It's just not going to work, Logan!"

She spins away from him again and shoves her fingers into her mouth, clamping her teeth on her fingernails to keep herself from losing it.

A long moment passes while Veronica attempts to salvage some dignity. Then Logan's warm hand is on her upper arm, and he is ducking into her line of sight.

"Hey," he says, ever so softly, "we'll figure it out, okay? It's new. It's okay."

She looks up into his eyes, guilt hanging heavy in her chest and writhing in her belly. But her wounded pride can't resist the tiny amount of hope inspired by the sweet tone of his voice.

"I just clearly need to practice dipping my balls in ice water or something if I'm going to keep up with you."

Veronica can't help it. She laughs. A little. So what if it was more or less a lie; it was funny. Logan's hand reaches her neck tentatively, and then he rests both wrists against her shoulders so he can cup her face. His thumbs brush against her jaw as he claims her gaze.

"I want you to be happy, Veronica."

Tears tickle the back of her eyes again, so Veronica blinks fervently a few times and takes a quick glance in all directions. She licks her lips and still feels guilty, and vulnerable, and proud.

"I think I want to go home," she finally decides.

TBC...